There are some things in life where the outcome can’t be predicted from the start—like Đinh Trường Sinh cozying up to Khấu Đại Bằng. At first glance, no one could tell whether this was a blessing or a curse. But little by little, Đinh Trường Sinh was getting closer to both the man and his family.
Khấu Đại Bằng watched as Đinh Trường Sinh chatted animatedly with Khấu Oánh Oánh. A thought crossed his mind: This kid’s got potential. If I train him right… maybe he could be the one to carry the torch someday?
Meanwhile, Đinh Trường Sinh was chatting about life at school—interesting stories, funny little moments—and of course, the occasional academic struggle. Though his new learning techniques hadn’t exactly been field-tested, as a teacher, Triệu Hân Nhã found them worth a shot. So her fondness for the young man wasn’t just because of that fancy necklace anymore.
In that moment, each of the four had their own thoughts. As for Đinh Trường Sinh, his mind was racing through the night’s gains—and what was still left to do. He had to head back to Lô Gia Lĩnh soon, so after dinner he didn’t linger. He hopped into Khấu Đại Bằng’s car and hit the road.
Because tonight, something big was going down.
A few days earlier—just as Lý Phượng Ni had predicted—Trần Tiêu Tử had come looking for him. Cards. A little friendly game of cards. Back then, the special contact lenses he needed hadn’t arrived yet. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if that old man Uncle Long had scammed him. But when those lenses finally arrived, Đinh Trường Sinh felt like Columbus discovering a brand new continent.
Because when he wore them, not only could he see straight through standard playing cards, but even mahjong tiles were an open book. The first time he tried them on, he took a stroll around the village—nearly causing chaos just for the fun of it.
Lô Gia Lĩnh Village, Vương Gia Hổ’s House
“Hey Hổ, you really think that kid’s gonna show up?” Trần Tiêu Tử asked, a bit antsy. “I don’t know, man. He doesn’t seem like an easy one to mess with.”
“What are you afraid of, Tiêu Tử? You didn’t used to be like this,” Vương Lão Hổ replied, clearly annoyed. “That punk’s just a stray mutt wearing a cop’s uniform. You seriously scared of him?”
“He’s got a point, Hổ,” said Lưu Ma Tử, chiming in. “We oughta be careful. The kid is technically part of the government now. You wanna go piss off Hoắc Lữ Mậu?”
A voice cut in from the door. “Who you calling ‘kid’? You got a big mouth—careful the wind doesn’t twist your tongue right off.”
Đinh Trường Sinh stepped into Vương Lão Hổ’s shabby excuse for a house, holding a plastic bag in his hand. The place looked barren, like it had been cleaned out by debt collectors. No doubt, Vương had lost a fair bit of cash recently.
“Well damn, Officer Đinh’s here! Come on in, take a seat! We were just messing around, nothing serious, right Hổ?” Trần Tiêu Tử jumped to his feet, grinning like a greased weasel.
Lưu Ma Tử didn’t say anything, but his eyes were sharp. The moment he spotted the plastic bag in Đinh Trường Sinh’s hand, he locked onto it like a hawk. Under the light, he could clearly make out stacks of crisp red bills—at least ten bundles, maybe more. Ten grand, minimum. He couldn’t help but wonder: Wasn’t this guy dead broke a few months ago? Stealing chickens, running errands... Now he’s rolling in cash? What the hell happened?
Vương Lão Hổ was about to toss out a few snide remarks, but Lưu Ma Tử elbowed him in the ribs. He followed Lưu’s gaze—and his eyes landed on the bag of money on the table.
“So, how we doing this, Hổ? One-on-one? Everyone in? I’m not too fancy with the games—I just play big or small. Highest number wins. But hey, if you’re not into the simple stuff, I’m good to sit out. I only showed up because Tiêu Ca asked nicely. Right, Tiêu Ca?” Đinh Trường Sinh tossed a grin at Trần Tiêu Tử.
“Right, right! Hổ here’s played every game under the sun, right bro? Why don’t you go a round or two with Officer Đinh while we watch?” Trần Tiêu Tử winked at Vương Lão Hổ with a look that screamed: This one’s ripe for the picking. If you don’t fleece him, I will.
“Alright then, let’s play!” Vương Lão Hổ burst out laughing, then laid down the rules: “Each round, three cards. No folding—if you do, pay 100 yuan. Reveal cards to compare—lowest loses 200!”
Confident in his years of gambling, Vương set the stakes high. Trần Tiêu Tử and Lưu Ma Tử both tensed up a little, thinking, Damn, this guy’s getting greedy already. But Hổ was in too deep now, too fired up to back down.
“To keep things fair, I brought some brand new decks. You veterans can check 'em yourselves. I picked these up from Auntie Vương’s shop. If you’re feeling paranoid, go grab some more from her.”
“No problem. That’s where we usually buy ours too,” said Trần Tiêu Tử, tearing the seal off one and giving it a glance.
Đinh Trường Sinh sat down, eyes glued to Trần Tiêu Tử’s shuffling. Meanwhile, Vương Lão Hổ lit a cigarette, smoke curling around his face as he stared down Đinh like a butcher eyeing a fat lamb.
“First round. Three cards each. Pass 'em around,” Trần Tiêu Tử called as he dealt. Nobody paid him much mind.
Đinh Trường Sinh looked excited, snatching up his cards and rushing off to the corner of the room like a giddy kid. One 10, two Aces—a monster hand. He strutted back to the table, eyes locked on Vương Lão Hổ. His cheeks were flushed, practically glowing with gambler’s fever.
“Flip ‘em!” Trần Tiêu Tử said with baited breath.
“This one’s in the bag!” Đinh shouted and slapped his cards down like a boss.
Vương Lão Hổ glanced at the hand, then at Đinh Trường Sinh, and shook his head. The look on his face said it all—rookie move, kid.
And so began the bloodbath.
Hand after hand, Đinh Trường Sinh kept losing. Ten grand evaporated in a blink. Trần Tiêu Tử and Lưu Ma Tử couldn’t stay seated any longer—they practically begged Hổ to step aside so they could take a crack at the money tree.
What a glorious night this was turning out to be!
But if Heaven ever wants to destroy a man, first it drives him mad.
And tonight, the one losing his mind… was Vương Lão Hổ.