C12 I Am an Immortal

A gang burst into the yard, led by a man in his thirties, broad-shouldered and clad in a green robe, with a prominent scar slashing across his right cheek—a clear sign of a man not to be trifled with. Flanking him were five or six young men, each brandishing a hefty wooden club, the very image of hired muscle.

This man was Zhang Ba, a notorious ruffian known far and wide