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chapter 18

Opening a deck of Three Aces playing cards, Old Black picked up one card, holding it with the back facing me. He even used his other hand to cover the side of the card, as if he were worried it might slip away. Carefully, he asked me:

“You said you can recognize marked cards, right? Can you tell me what this one is?”

Old Black, built like an iron tower and looking as menacing as a thug, acted surprisingly childish in that moment, like a preschooler trying to show off his tricks.

“Spades 3...”

Old Black stared at me blankly. He flipped the card over, inspecting it from every angle, but still couldn’t figure it out.

“How is that possible? What about this one?”

“Diamonds 6.”

“And this one?”

“Hearts Jack.”

“What about this one?”

“Are you done yet?”

At this point, it felt pretty pointless, but Old Black was now convinced that these cards were indeed rigged.

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Snap!

The sound of glass breaking startled both me and the shopkeeper. Old Black had smashed his fist through the tempered glass on the counter.

“Hou Jun, I treated you like a brother, and this is how you repay me—using marked cards to screw me over. Damn it!”

He started cursing loudly, but after a couple of seconds, he shook his head and mumbled to himself:

“Wait, I shouldn’t curse his mother, she’s a good woman. I should call her ‘aunt’. As for his father, well, that’s another story. He’s just as rotten as Hou Jun—living off gambling and scams...”

The shopkeeper, pale as a ghost, didn’t say a word. After all, he was also involved in this mess.

When Old Black figured out what was going on with the cards, I thought he’d go into a rage and confront Hou Jun—demanding the money back and maybe even beating him senseless.

But instead, Old Black handled it differently. He looked at the cards for a while, sighed, and muttered:

“Forget it. Even if I went to get the money back, he wouldn’t have anything to give. I’ll let him off the hook this time, for old time’s sake.

Let’s just pretend I never knew him. I won’t pay him back either... From now on, I’m just gonna pretend he doesn’t exist.”

He turned to the shopkeeper and pointed at him.

“And you, you’re no better. Don’t think you’re getting away with this. You’re not getting the money for the glass or the cards, either!”

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I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

That was Old Black for you—kind of naive and silly, but also strangely endearing.

After we left the shop, Old Black was looking downcast. He asked me how I knew about these cards. I just said I’d seen them before, and left it at that.

I was planning to head home, but Old Black insisted on following me. Finally, when we were close to my place, he mentioned wanting to treat me to a drink. But after paying back Hou Jun, he only had about 120 yuan left and was worried it wouldn’t be enough.

Looking at the embarrassed Old Black, I calmly said:

“It’s fine, I’ve got money. I’ll treat you.”

He paused for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh and exclaimed:

“How could I forget about that place? Come on, I’ll take you there. Drinks and food are free. But I need to warn you in advance—there’s a lot of shady stuff going on there. Don’t get involved.”

In Old Black’s eyes, I was just another small-time gambler who had gotten lucky with some marked cards.

But that worked to my advantage. It gave me a chance to keep testing his character to see what kind of person he really was.

In the Qianmen Eight Generals, aside from the “Ti Jiang” (the recruiters who persuade people to join the game), there’s also the “Huo Jiang” (Fire Generals).

The Fire Generals are like enforcers or bodyguards. When a situation can’t be resolved through trickery, physical force is needed.

And Old Black seemed perfect for that role. That’s why I had to tell him about Hou Jun using marked cards and even accompanied him to identify them. I needed a partner if I wanted to make a name for myself in the Qianmen world.

Old Black took me to the old street in the city center. Compared to the surrounding high-rise buildings, the area seemed a little rundown. The old gray bricks and stone-paved roads had a certain charm to them, though.

Walking down the street, the usual sounds of life hit us—people shouting, food being stir-fried, the clinking of glasses, and children arguing. All the hustle and bustle from the narrow alleyways could be heard clearly.

When we reached the entrance of an old building, Old Black pointed inside and said:

“This is the place.”

I looked up and saw three rusty, faded characters on the roof: Card Room.

We entered the building, which was an open space. There were several oil-stained tables and long benches scattered around.

About a dozen men were sitting at the tables, eating quickly and noisily. As soon as Old Black entered, someone from the kitchen peeked out and waved.

“Hey, it’s Old Black! Long time no see, where’ve you been making money?”

“Making money, my ass. If I were making money, would I be here eating for free? Get me some food, I’m drinking here today.”

We found a spot to sit, and Old Black gave me a quick rundown of the place. Apparently, he used to look after this place but quit because he got bored of it.

Despite the shabby environment, this place was well-known in the city. They ran over a hundred tables for Mahjong every day, and there were also dozens of tables for games like poker, Pai Gow, and dice.

The room where we ate was specifically for gamblers. They kept the stove running 24/7, and meals were served whenever—free of charge. According to Old Black, even the neighbors who didn’t gamble came here to eat, and the owner didn’t mind at all.

The owner made his money from table fees—like fifty yuan per person for Mahjong, two hundred per table.

If the stakes were higher, it could go up to four hundred or more per table. For poker, Pai Gow, or dice, there was a rake taken from the dealer’s winnings—five percent if the dealer won over two thousand, nothing if they won less.

I listened, amazed, and did some quick calculations in my head. With such a disorganized way of managing things, the owner’s daily earnings had to be at least fifty thousand yuan.

I had planned to drink with Old Black, but after hearing all that, I lost interest. I asked him to take me upstairs after he finished eating.

Although Old Black agreed, he kept warning me that the place was full of shady characters and tricksters. He told me to just watch and not get involved.

I thought to myself, Shady characters? Aren’t I a shady character too?

After finishing our meal, we climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the second floor. As soon as I stepped onto the second floor, I knew Old Black hadn’t been exaggerating. There were Mahjong tables everywhere—even in the hallways. The poker and Pai Gow games were up on the fourth floor.

By the time we got to the fourth floor, it was already packed. Old Black was quite well-known here. People greeted him everywhere, calling him "Old Black" or "Brother Black". It was clear that they respected him, and some even seemed a little afraid of him.

The most interesting thing was, by the time we finished our tour, Old Black had picked up 400 yuan—money given to him by a winning dealer as a tip.

When we reached the innermost poker table, Old Black stopped. The dealer was shuffling the cards when he saw Old Black approach. He immediately smiled and greeted him:

“Well, if it isn’t Old Black! Long time no see. Want to place a few bets?”