The gamble officially began.
Xu Wanyue handed her bank card to Litchi to exchange for chips. Now, thirty million in chips sat in front of her—a paltry sum compared to Lin Cheng’s one hundred million. Even with her unshakeable confidence, her breathing quickened just a touch.
For a bet of such magnitude, the atmosphere felt absurdly like child’s play.
Thirty million against a hundred million. She could afford only three losses, while he could take ten. By the odds, his chances looked better. But as Xu Wanyue had pointed out earlier, gambling was a game of luck.
In the first round, Xu Wanyue picked up the two dice cups, shook them one after the other, and set them on the table. She met Lin Cheng’s eyes. “I’ll let you choose first this round. Which one?”
Lin Cheng selected the one on the left. He lifted the lid to reveal five dice totaling twenty-three points. A grin spread across his face, his smugness plain in his voice. “Looks like I’ve got the edge.”
But his triumph lasted less than three seconds. Xu Wanyue uncovered the other cup: twenty-four points.
The smugness drained from Lin Cheng’s face as he pushed ten million in chips toward her. Litchi stood calmly at the edge of the table, her eyes betraying no worry or disappointment.
As long as the boss stepped in, defeat was impossible.
The second round began.
The two shaken dice cups rested on the table. Xu Wanyue propped her cheek on her hand and glanced at Lin Cheng. “I’ll let you pick first again this time.”
Lin Cheng chose the one on the right. He opened it to six points.
His face fell at once. Xu Wanyue revealed hers: twelve points.
Lin Cheng could only push another ten million in chips her way.
In the third round, Xu Wanyue still gave him first pick. Lin Cheng lost.
Fourth round: another loss.
Fifth: lost again.
Lin Cheng’s chips had dwindled to fifty million, while Xu Wanyue’s had swelled to eighty million, stacked high like a miniature mountain. And yet, her expression remained utterly unchanged—no trace of elation.
Lin Cheng showed no real dejection, either.
The winner not jubilant, the loser not downcast. It was the strangest scene imaginable at a gambling table.
“Want to keep going?” Xu Wanyue regarded him coolly. “I’ll give you the right to call it quits.”
“Why not?” Lin Cheng grabbed the Coke bottle from the table and chugged it down until it was empty. He let out a satisfied belch. “You’re finding this boring too, aren’t you?”
“Winning every time is boring.” Xu Wanyue didn’t so much as flutter her lashes, a hint of contempt in her tone. Perhaps the only thing sparking any joy was that fifty-million figure.
“There’s no thrill in this at all.” Lin Cheng gave a soft sigh.
Xu Wanyue lifted her gaze. “You’ve just cost the boss fifty million. Aren’t you more worried about how you’ll survive the night?”
Lin Cheng laughed. “Nah. Litchi’s a good girl.”
Xu Wanyue paused for a beat. She’d assumed Lin Cheng was just some expert Litchi had roped in to stand in for her—after all, she detected no energy fluctuations from him. He was utterly ordinary.
But judging from Litchi’s helpless look after his words, his standing ran deeper than that.
The air grew a touch awkward. Xu Wanyue shook one of the dice cups on the table. “So, you want to continue?”
“Mm.”
“You pick first,” Lin Cheng said evenly.
Sixth round: Lin Cheng got fifteen points. Xu Wanyue, seventeen. He lost.
Seventh: thirteen for him, thirty for her. Another loss.
Now Lin Cheng’s chips sat at just thirty million, while Xu Wanyue’s had reached one hundred million. Their positions at the table had flipped. She shot a glance at Litchi, but the girl’s expression remained unchanged. Xu Wanyue remembered that night at the table—Litchi had hidden it well, but losing five million had left her gritting her teeth. So why this breezy calm now?
Lin Cheng toyed with his chips and looked up at Xu Wanyue. “If you want, I’ll give you the right to stop. You could take that hundred million in chips downstairs and cash out right now.”
Xu Wanyue blinked in surprise.
What was this?
“Getting scared?” The corner of her mouth curved up.
Beautiful women always had that disarming charm when they smiled.
Lin Cheng felt no sting of mockery, only a helpless chuckle. “You’re no pro gambler. In this world, you’re barely a beginner. At first, you lacked confidence, so day one, you played it safe. Day two, you started taking on other high rollers. Even your outfits changed—got a little sexier. Men let their guard down around pretty faces. You’re clever enough to play to your strengths. Once you racked up more wins, the confidence grew… along with the boredom.”
“A sure thing gets dull fast,” Lin Cheng murmured with another sigh. “I was hoping for some leg rings to ogle today, at least.”
Xu Wanyue’s expression turned peculiar. Why had his banter swerved there?
“If you want, grab that hundred million and go. But no returning to this casino. That’s more than fair compensation.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Greed’s a bad look,” Lin Cheng said with a grin.
“No—I bet I won’t lose the next one.”
“What if I told you you won’t win another hand?”
“I don’t buy it.” Her eyes lit up at last. She eyed him with amusement, baffled by his assurance but brimming with her own.
“Fine. If I take all your chips, you play one more game with me.” Lin Cheng’s voice dropped lower. “Deal?”
“What’s the game?”
“It hasn’t even started, and you’re already sweating a loss? The goddess of luck doesn’t like quitters.” He smirked.
Idle words, but a strange unease bloomed in Xu Wanyue’s chest—fear laced with… excitement.
Her eyes gleamed brighter, as if she’d snapped fully awake. “I’d love to see how you pull it off.”
The eighth round kicked off. Xu Wanyue shook the cups herself and even tossed Lin Cheng a scornful look. “Picking first again.”
“Then the left one.”
She lifted that lid: twenty-nine points total.
Lin Cheng smiled at her. “Surrender and forfeit half?”
But Xu Wanyue showed no frustration. She opened her own cup steadily. “If mine’s thirty…”
Her words cut off.
Twenty-eight points. Precisely one short. She’d lost.
Xu Wanyue stared at the cup in disbelief. Such a massive roll, and still she froze for several seconds. When she looked up, Lin Cheng’s calm smile met her.
His gaze skipped her eyes, drifting to the slender line of her collarbone, uncovered by her white tank top. From the heat, it glistened faintly with sweat—an erotic sheen.
The unease swelled within her. She beseeched her luck, but it offered no reply. Damn it—why now, of all times?
The next round started swiftly. This time, she chose first: twenty-nine points, all but unbeatable.
Dread coiled in her gut. She pried open Lin Cheng’s cup, and her cheeks drained of color.
Thirty points.
Lin Cheng took the round.
The one after began right away.
Xu Wanyue’s composure cracked—from cool disdain to shock and fluster, all in mere minutes. Litchi, standing aside, finally curved her lips in a smile.
Xu Wanyue shook the cup again, almost frantically, her lip caught between her teeth. But Lin Cheng’s total edged hers out once more.
His voice cut in perfectly timed. “I told you—you’re not winning another.”
“Smug, are we?” She shot him a glare.
“Shouldn’t I be?” Lin Cheng spread his hands innocently.
Her chest rose and fell with each breath. His unabashed stare raked over her, the scrutiny humiliating.
She shook again. Lost.
Once. Twice. Three times. Five.
Every outcome the same. No matter how she pushed her ability or pleaded with luck, it stayed silent. Lin Cheng’s rolls always topped hers by a point. Her chips vanished entirely.
Only after they were gone did she sense it: the “luck” she’d called in vain now enveloped her anew.
Her luck always faltered for a few minutes each month—that had been it. And now it had returned.
Too late. Her stack loomed before Lin Cheng.
He turned pleading eyes to Litchi. “Can I touch now…?”
Litchi rapped his forehead with her knuckles, her cheeks tinting pink, her tone a fierce warning. “Not now.”
“Gotcha!”
Lin Cheng turned to Xu Wanyue and stretched lazily. “All right. Time for our next game.”
It took her a dozen seconds to shake off the string of defeats. Arms crossed, she fixed him with a stare. “What do you want to play?”
“Something just for two… super intense… you’ll sweat buckets… Nah, too sketchy.” Lin Cheng tapped his own forehead, as if standing in for Litchi.
He glanced at her. “Got the stuff ready?”
“All set.” Litchi’s smile looked downright sinister.
Litchi placed a six-chamber revolver on the table.
Lin Cheng smiled at Xu Wanyue. “No need to explain the rules, right?”
She froze at first. But when she met his eyes, the playful warmth had vanished, replaced by something deeper, colder. His voice carried a chill.
Xu Wanyue’s body began to tremble uncontrollably.
