Chapter Eleven: The God of Gambling Appears

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The moment Wang Liru saw Zhuo Wengang, she beamed with joy. “Wengang, can you guess what Nannan just called me?” Seeing how delighted Wang Liru was, Zhuo Wengang thought Zhuo Nan had been released, so he hurried to ask, “What happened? What did he call you?”

With happiness written all over her face, Wang Liru replied, “Nannan finally called me Mom.”

Zhuo Wengang was taken aback, then broke into a smile. “After going through all this, the child has finally grown up. We’ll have less to worry about in the future.”

But just as the words left his mouth, Wang Liru’s expression changed. The child was still locked up, after all. She quickly asked, “Wengang, did you find Director Wang? What did they say?”

Zhuo Wengang shook his head helplessly. “Wang Zhenguo is a piece of work. I offered to pay twenty thousand, but he flatly refused. He insists on following legal procedures. Isn’t that just making Nannan suffer for nothing?”

“Let’s offer more money,” Wang Liru suggested.

But Zhuo Wengang shook his head again. “We don’t have anything left—all our money is gone. And besides, Wang Zhenguo is dead set on not taking it. What else can we do?”

Wang Liru grew anxious. “Are we just supposed to let Nannan stay in there for three months?” Tears spilled from her eyes once more. Nannan had just called her Mom, and all she wanted now was to cook a table full of dishes for her son and daughter, to fulfill her duty as a mother.

“Don’t worry, Liru. I’ll try to find another way. Maybe I’ll go talk to Old Zhou and ask him to mediate,” Zhuo Wengang said.

Hearing this, Wang Liru agreed. Old Zhou was the workshop supervisor—maybe he could help. “Buy something to bring to Old Zhou’s house. We can’t just ask for help empty-handed.” She handed him two bills, and Zhuo Wengang took the money and left at once.

Now Wang Liru was alone at home. She slumped into a chair with a sigh. Both she and her husband had taken the day off for Zhuo Nan; they wouldn’t be getting their full salaries this month for sure.

Zhuo Nan hadn’t come to school, and rumors had already spread wildly. They said Zhuo Nan had beaten Wang Yu nearly to death and had been arrested by the police. Shi Yang had prepared himself to share the blame with Zhuo Nan that day, but he hadn’t expected the Wang family to call the police and have Zhuo Nan taken away. At first, he didn’t believe the rumors and went to ask Zhuo Lanlan, only to learn it was true. This made him even more furious, but there was nothing he could do—he was just a kid, powerless.

After hearing the rumors, Fu Xinxin found Shi Yang and pulled him aside. In a low voice, she asked, “Shi Yang, I want to ask you something. You have to be honest with me.”

Shi Yang was already in a bad mood and didn’t feel like talking much. “Don’t bother asking. I’ll tell you: Lanlan said Brother Nan was taken away last night. To be honest, it’s clear to me that Brother Nan likes you. Otherwise, why would he beat Wang Yu so badly? Fu Xinxin, don’t let Brother Nan down.” With that, Shi Yang turned and left, leaving Fu Xinxin standing there in a state of confusion.

She did have feelings for Zhuo Nan, but hearing someone else say he liked her made her heart pound like a deer in the headlights. For a moment, she stood there, dazed, not knowing what to do. The term “puppy love” still carried a lot of weight among middle school students.

All day, Fu Xinxin’s mind was a tangled mess, Shi Yang’s words echoing repeatedly: Zhuo Nan had gotten into trouble for her sake—should she step up and tell her father, ask him to help? But if she told her father, what would he think? He’d definitely believe she was having a romance, and then she’d never be able to see Zhuo Nan again. Thinking of the future, Fu Xinxin decided not to tell her father. She’d pretend to know nothing and just treat Zhuo Nan a little better if he ever came back.

In the detention cell, Zhuo Nan sat to one side, lost in thought. Even Long Kun didn’t dare disturb him. Of course, his daze was only an outward appearance; in fact, he was having a mental conversation.

“Brain, is there any way to get me out of here?”

“There are three plans: superior, average, and inferior. Which do you want?”

“Cut the crap. Did you read too much Romance of the Three Kingdoms?” Zhuo Nan shouted inwardly.

“Calm down, calm down. I’ll tell you now.”

“Damn, you only talk straight when I lose my temper.”

“Long Kun and the others will be brought here the day after tomorrow. Have him find two quick-handed people to go to Wang Zhenguo’s house or office, see if there’s anything valuable, and use it as leverage against him.”

Zhuo Nan thought this was a good idea and smiled inwardly. “Thank you.”

“No need for thanks. What I think is what you think.”

“At least you finally said something honest.” Zhuo Nan turned to Long Kun. “Long Kun, come here—I need to discuss something with you.”

The moment Long Kun heard the boss call, he hurried over. “Brother Nan, just tell me what you need.”

Zhuo Nan smiled. “It’s not an order—I’m asking for your help. Here’s what I need…”

After Zhuo Nan finished explaining, Long Kun didn’t hesitate. “Brother Nan, I thought it was something big. Leave it to me.”

“Nothing else matters, but you must be careful. If you get anything, we’ll figure out the next step.” Zhuo Nan wasn’t certain what they might find, so he could only say this for now.

“Don’t worry, Brother Nan. I know what to do—you can trust me.” Long Kun patted his chest in assurance.

Zhuo Nan nodded firmly. He trusted Long Kun’s character. “Brother Nan, want to play a few hands with the guys?” Long Kun asked, seeing Zhuo Nan seemed at ease.

“Play what?” Zhuo Nan was curious.

“Poker—any game you like,” Long Kun replied, full of enthusiasm.

Since they were stuck here, why not? “For money?” Zhuo Nan asked.

Long Kun grinned. “Brother Nan, if there’s no money, what’s the fun? Just small stakes.”

Zhuo Nan hesitated. “I don’t have any money. And aren’t you supposed to hand over all your cash before you come in here?”

“Brother Nan, you don’t know. We come here often enough. The most they make us surrender is metal objects; they never take our cash. They know we’re bored in here,” Long Kun explained with a laugh.

“Oh, well, I don’t have any money, so I’ll just watch,” Zhuo Nan said.

“I’ll lend you some, Brother Nan. If you win, it’s yours; if you lose, it’s on me.” Long Kun was generous. In their line, money was everything, and men like Long Kun were rare.

“I’m not sure that’s right…” Zhuo Nan was still uncertain.

“What’s wrong with it? You’re my boss—think of it as my entry fee,” Long Kun insisted, genuinely.

“Guys, Brother Nan is joining us. Deal the cards!” he called out.

“Brother Nan, sit here. It’s a lucky spot—you’re sure to win,” one of the boys piped up. Zhuo Nan saw he was pretty sharp and said casually, “You seem pretty clever.”

The boy was thrilled. “Thank you, Brother Nan! My name’s Zhu Baigu—just call me Ribs.”

“Ribs? That’s a good name—fits you,” Zhuo Nan replied. Indeed, Zhu Baigu looked as skinny as his nickname.

“Alright, Ribs, stop cozying up to Brother Nan and deal already,” Long Kun urged.

They played “Golden Flower,” or as some called it, Tractor. The first round, Long Kun started with a ten-yuan blind.

“Kun, it’s the first hand and you’re playing big—how’s anyone supposed to play?” Ribs glanced at his cards—a pair of twos—and tossed them aside, complaining.

Long Kun laughed. “Let’s see who has the guts to follow. It’s twenty to look at your cards.”

Zhuo Nan was last to act. Besides Long Kun, one other guy paid twenty to look at his cards. Zhuo Nan peeked—his highest was a queen. Without thinking, he folded.

Long Kun laughed. “Why’d you fold, Brother Nan?”

“Bad hand,” Zhuo Nan replied.

With a sly chuckle, Long Kun squinted at his cards. “I’ll raise to forty. Your turn.”

The other guy, seeing Long Kun’s confidence, figured he must have a good hand. With only a pair of twos, he dared not risk it and folded.

“Haha, a measly ten can win money,” Long Kun gloated at his little victory. Everyone cursed themselves for being too timid, folding even their small pairs. Zhuo Nan smiled—Golden Flower was all about guts and cunning.

The next hand, Long Kun followed the same pattern, but this time, no one fell for it. Anyone with a half-decent hand stayed in. Zhuo Nan was about to look at his cards when his brain piped up, “Don’t look yet—raise to twenty first.”

Following the advice, Zhuo Nan raised to twenty. The others smirked—so Brother Nan was trying tricks too. They all raised to forty after looking at their cards. After another round, Long Kun counted his cash and laughed. “I’ll raise fifty.”

With a fifty-blind, those who’d looked at their cards had to put in a hundred. Those with nothing good folded; the rest agonized over their hands, tempted by the growing pot.

Why not? A win would mean several hundred. This thought led everyone to raise the stakes. Zhuo Nan, still without looking, raised fifty as well.

Who cared? Since Zhuo Nan could see his cards, the others figured the bets would never go beyond a hundred per round. When the round ended, four were left: Zhuo Nan and Long Kun on blinds, the other two already in for two hundred each.

By the third round, Long Kun peeked at his cards, lifting the edge just enough to see, but Zhuo Nan caught the subtle change in his face. “Brother Nan, I’m raising one-fifty,” Long Kun said.

That meant his hand was strong. The two others exchanged glances and folded, thinking, “Damn, Kun’s got a monster hand.”

Zhuo Nan had only one hundred and forty left; he couldn’t match the bet, so he went blind and called. “One hundred to see your hand.”

Long Kun burst out laughing and flipped his cards, ready to take the pot. He had three of a kind.

“Sorry, Brother Nan, I’m taking the money,” he crowed.

Zhuo Nan sighed and revealed his cards, not knowing what he had. When he turned them over, everyone was stunned—three sixes.

“Brother Nan, that’s just cruel,” Long Kun wailed, his cocky look replaced by a mournful one.

“Just luck, just luck. Let’s keep playing,” Zhuo Nan grinned, pulling the pile toward himself. He’d just won nearly four hundred in that hand.

As he shuffled the cards, Zhuo Nan asked his brain, “How did you know I’d win?”

The brain replied smugly, “I’m a super brain. After the first hand, I memorized all the card positions. I know who holds what—you think I’d lose?”

Excited, Zhuo Nan thought, “Maybe I could become the God of Gamblers.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Even if you can always win, do you really think you’d get to spend that money?” The brain had a point. If he made a living gambling, he’d be blacklisted from every casino within a week.

With the super brain’s help, Zhuo Nan won far more than he lost. Within an hour, he’d cleaned everyone out.

“Brother Nan, I never realized you were the God of Gamblers himself,” Long Kun complained, nearly in tears. It was his idea to play cards, never expecting Brother Nan to play the fool and then take them all for a ride.

In truth, Zhuo Nan was deliberately practicing remembering cards after the first few rounds, just like when he’d read that math textbook. His brain and he were gradually merging. He wondered, if one day they fully fused, would he no longer hear the brain’s “voice”? If so, maybe he’d actually miss it.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, the brain chimed in, “Zhuo Nan, at least you have a conscience!”