It was seven in the evening.
Lin Cheng had already been sitting in the bookstore for seven hours. During that time, he hadn’t moved from his seat except to swap one book for another. The bookstore staff occasionally refilled the water in his disposable cup.
Litchi had finally finished all her tasks. Without even changing her clothes, she arrived at the table across from Lin Cheng, still dressed in her office-lady ensemble. She waved a hand in front of his face. Lin Cheng looked up at her.
“What are you reading?”
“Gu Cheng’s poetry.”
“Scumbags recognizing fellow scumbags, huh.” Litchi clearly held Gu Cheng’s life in particular contempt. A man who ended up killing his wife and then himself wasn’t all that different from a overgrown manbaby.
“You look at me for a while, then at the clouds.
I feel you’re far when you look at me,
close when you look at the clouds.”
Lin Cheng closed the book in his hand. “We can’t deny his poetic achievements just because he’s a bastard. Though yeah, he really was a damn bastard.”
“What’s all this about far and near?”
“Gu Cheng’s ‘Far and Near.'”
Lin Cheng’s expression turned unusually serious. His gaze gently fixed on Litchi’s face, taking in the faint beads of sweat on her fair forehead. In a soft voice, he said, “You’ve worked hard.”
Litchi turned her face away, apparently unused to such a look from him. She muttered under her breath, “Didn’t know you were capable of caring about people.”
“It’s rare to see you dressed like this. Are those super-sheer black stockings? Mind if I touch? Just once.” As he spoke, Lin Cheng set the poetry collection aside. His hand inched slowly—ever so slowly—toward Litchi’s slender legs, encased in black stockings beneath her hip-hugging skirt. But before he could make contact, Litchi whipped her head back around, silently plucked a book from the nearby shelf, and gave Lin Cheng’s head a light smack with it.
“Drop dead.”
Lin Cheng sheepishly pulled his hand back.
At seven-thirty, Lin Cheng and Litchi sat in the monitoring room. A bowl of ramen sat in front of him. Lin Cheng confirmed one more time, “This isn’t your cooking, right?”
“Nope.”
“That’s a relief.” Lin Cheng happily grabbed his chopsticks and slurped up the noodles with gusto. He had firsthand experience of Litchi’s culinary skills. This prodigy who had earned an elite degree at the age of fourteen was hopeless in the kitchen.
The array of monitors before them displayed scenes from the casino on the top floor. Even though it was only half past seven, the place was already lively. Men in suits rubbed shoulders with elegantly dressed women, their eyes bright with anticipation. Female servers in prim uniforms wove through the crowd, while stacks of chips, along with the gamblers’ mix of dejection and glee, made for a captivating spectacle.
“Pull up Xu Wanyue’s previous surveillance footage again.”
Lin Cheng brought up all the recordings from her prior visits. The woman was in her early twenties, with refined features. She always dressed in sexy, eye-catching outfits: micro shorts, spaghetti-strap tops, backless cocktail dresses, pleated miniskirts, lace corset gowns. She drew plenty of attention from the gamblers. Lin Cheng watched her navigate the casino while eating his ramen. Litchi sat beside him, her black-stockinged legs crossed beneath her hip-hugging skirt.
“Notice anything?”
“Nope.” Lin Cheng polished off the last soft-boiled egg. “But it’s great chow-down viewing.”
“We’ve already lost thirty million.” Litchi gave him a wistful look.
“This year’s revenue hit two hundred million, didn’t it? We’ve got plenty more to lose.” Lin Cheng’s tone was utterly nonchalant. After all, Litchi wired him his monthly allowance of five thousand dollars. If he ran out, he could always ask for more—as long as he specified the reason.
The little housekeeper was stickler on that front. But it was a rule he had agreed to with Litchi himself: give a man money, and he’ll turn bad. Lin Cheng didn’t mind. After all, true masters approached freeloading with a pure heart.
“Did you figure out how she’s cheating?”
“She’s not.” Lin Cheng shook his head. “At least, I didn’t spot any evidence.”
“I don’t buy it… It’s statistically impossible.” Litchi’s brows furrowed slightly, a hint of displeasure in her voice.
As a probability expert and a skilled gambler in her own right, Litchi knew exactly how outrageous it was to turn twenty bucks into thirty million in three days.
“She’s just lucky.”
“Absolutely not.”
“No, what I mean is…” Lin Cheng chuckled, let out a burp, and leaned back in his recliner. His voice took on a mysterious edge.
“Her luck is exceptional.”
Litchi opened her mouth to respond but froze for several seconds before realization dawned. “Oh… I get it.”
“So how do we win our money back?” Litchi turned to Lin Cheng. He stretched lazily. “Strictly speaking, she earned it fair and square with her skills. We shouldn’t just take it back. Casinos have their rules, after all.”
“Are you really a stickler for rules?”
“I like to think so.”
“Beat her, and you get to touch the black stockings.”
“Deal!” Lin Cheng bolted upright in his chair. Moments ago, he’d been sprawled like a corpse; now, he brimmed with energy. His gaze locked onto Litchi’s slender calf, cocked at a slight angle, her toes idly dangling her black high heel.
“You’re drooling, perv. Heh heh heh…”
Litchi rolled her eyes at him.
Eight o’clock that evening.
The downstairs monitors captured the Alliance Adjudicator named Xu Wanyue arriving right on schedule. She stepped out of a taxi. The instant she appeared, Litchi was already gritting her teeth.
“She really has the guts to show up again.”
“Disappointing.” Lin Cheng eyed her outfit and pursed his lips.
Xu Wanyue cut a tall, perfectly proportioned figure. Today, she wore a white spaghetti-strap tank top, her dark wavy hair spilling over her shoulders to reveal delicate collarbones and a cute navel. Loose jeans covered her long, shapely legs entirely.
Lin Cheng glanced at Litchi’s mildly furious expression. “Strange. Why are you so worked up?”
“When she hit five million, I jumped into a Texas Hold’em game with her and played all night.”
“You lost?”
“All her tells were written plain as day on her face, but I still dropped five million.”
“No wonder.”
Lin Cheng had known Litchi for years. She was proud as could be, and Texas Hold’em was her specialty. Getting outplayed in her wheelhouse naturally left her fuming.
Xu Wanyue had already cashed out twenty-five million in chips on a prior visit, leaving five million behind. She rode the dedicated elevator up to the casino. Her name had clearly gained notoriety here. Outside of house games, hardly anyone wanted to face her anymore.
In the house games, most players were now riding her bets—and her hit rate exceeded seventy percent. In under half an hour, her five million in chips had swelled to six million.
Xu Wanyue wore an innocent expression.
The gamblers shadowing her bets erupted in ecstatic cheers with each win, drawing a slight frown from her. She disliked noisy environments. These days, even successful bets brought little thrill; it was merely the chip totals climbing.
That changed when the crowd parted to reveal a young woman in office-lady attire.
Even with gold-rimmed glasses and 7cm heels, Litchi’s cheeks retained a hint of youthful softness. Her voice betrayed the same—even as she tried to steady it, the girlish timbre shone through.
Xu Wanyue remembered her well. She was one of the casino’s managers, a probability expert. Yet that night, she had lost five million to Xu Wanyue—one of the few games that had truly put her on edge.
“Miss Xu Wanyue, speaking as a casino representative, I’d like to invite you to a high-stakes game with a ten-million ante. Are you interested?” Litchi’s smile was gentle, but her eyes gleamed sharply.
Xu Wanyue had known this moment would come. The casino wouldn’t let her keep raking it in unchecked. They’d eventually pit an expert against her to claw back the chips. But ever since she started playing, she hadn’t faced a true rival.
“Sure.”
“Please follow me. I’ll explain the rules en route.”
Xu Wanyue fell in quietly behind Litchi. They crossed the casino floor, Litchi’s heels clicking rhythmically on the stairs. Suddenly, her foot slipped, pitching her body forward. On instinct, she clutched Xu Wanyue’s arm.
A fleeting shadow crossed her eyes.
Xu Wanyue steadied her hurriedly.
“Sorry about that…”
“No worries at all.” Xu Wanyue’s voice was gentle. Litchi released her grip quickly.
They arrived at the upstairs room prepared especially for this. Pushing open the door revealed a young man in a button-up shirt, sipping cola from a glass bottle through a straw riddled with teeth marks.
“Please, have a seat.” Litchi’s smile remained gentle.
Xu Wanyue took the seat across from Lin Cheng. He set down his cola and gave her a thorough once-over from head to toe, his gaze lingering a few seconds extra on her delicate collarbones.
“Who might you be?” Xu Wanyue’s eyes turned to him.
Young shota voice! Score!
Interest finally flickered in Lin Cheng’s eyes. He replied, “Name’s Lin Cheng. I’m your opponent for the showdown today. I’m… what you might call the casino’s resident expert.”
“What’ll we be playing?”
Litchi wheeled over a case and stacked the chips neatly in front of Lin Cheng. It was a full hundred million, piled high like a miniature mountain.
“I’m game for anything. You choose.”
“Ditto. Your call.”
“Fair enough. But before we start, I’ve got a question for you, Miss Xu Wanyue.”
“Yes?”
“Do you see gambling… as a game of pure luck?” Lin Cheng smiled as he met her eyes.
Xu Wanyue tilted her head. “Pretty much.”
“Perfect.”
Lin Cheng slid one of the two dice cups on the table toward her. “Then let’s do dice shakes for the high roll. Five dice apiece. Highest total is thirty, lowest five.”
Xu Wanyue’s brow furrowed faintly. “What’s the point of a game where I can’t verify if you’re cheating? I’ve heard seasoned gamblers can shake out whatever number they want with practice.”
“I understand your concern.” Lin Cheng tapped the table lightly with a fingertip. “That’s why you’ll shake both cups. We compare the totals. Highest wins. Ties go to the next round. Ten million per round.”
Xu Wanyue stared intently at Lin Cheng for several long seconds, her expression peculiar.
“You’re certain?”
“Inspect the dice all you like. Shake both however you want. Pick whichever result you prefer afterward; I’ll take the remaining one. Any other stipulations, just say the word.”
Xu Wanyue had only one worry. She lifted her chin slightly and bit her lip. “If I clean out all your chips, will I make it out of here alive?”
“Of course. The Alliance backing you is our valued partner. We’d never lay a hand on a friend. Besides, going after players like that breaks every rule in the book.”
Lin Cheng leaned forward a touch, steepling his fingers as his eyes bored unblinkingly into hers.
“Very well.” Xu Wanyue narrowed her eyes. “Let’s begin. I want to see… exactly where your confidence comes from.”
