A Turn of Fortune

*Smack!* It felt like a split second, yet also as though an eternity had passed. Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes and found himself lying in bed. Sitting up, he carefully scanned his surroundings. He needed to verify not only whether this was truly his bedroom, but also whether he was currently dreaming. After a long while, Li Zhuiyuan confirmed that this was reality. Yet the crisp, echoing sound of Great-Grandpa holding a talisman and slapping it down against the tile floor still seemed to linger in his ears. And then, everything had gone black. He had no clear recollection of what followed. He could not even remember when the fortune-transferring ritual had concluded, nor how he had walked out of Great-Grandpa's room and made it back to his own bed. Looking down at the quilt resting over his knees, he noted that every night before falling asleep, he always pulled it over his belly, folding it in a very specific, personal way. In other words, Great-Grandpa had not carried an unconscious boy back into bed, because the quilt had been folded by Li Zhuiyuan himself. He got out of bed and glanced at the wall clock: five in the morning. Ah Li usually did not come over until around six. Having walked the yin path so many times, he was prone to waking up in a haze accompanied by a slight flutter of anxiety in his chest, instinctively driven to distinguish the real from the illusory. It was just like walking a short distance down the road after leaving home, only to abruptly stop and obsess over whether the front door had been locked. Whenever he woke up and immediately saw Ah Li sitting in the chair, he could bypass that entire step. Feeling parched, Li Zhuiyuan walked over to his desk to grab his water cup, only to discover that the glass was filled with paper ash. He promptly began checking his notebooks. Although the job had been done very neatly, traces remained where pages had been torn away. Yet whatever had been torn out was not anything he recalled writing. His gaze drifted to the penholder on the desk. There were four pens inside, arranged according to his usual habit, but the ink level in his most frequently used pen had dropped considerably. A scene took shape in Li Zhuiyuan's mind: Late at night, while he was fast asleep in bed, a stranger sat at his desk, holding his pen and writing across the pages of his notebook. Afterward, that person tore the written sheets out, set them on fire, and dropped them into the cup. Li Zhuiyuan pulled open the drawer. Inside lay his leftover pocket money, not a single penny missing. The books, homework exercise pads, and penholder were all arranged according to his habits. Combining this with the fact that he had lost all memory of what happened after last night's fortune-transferring ritual, Li Zhuiyuan could not help wondering: Could the person who had sat there writing last night have been himself? But if it had been him, why would he burn what he had written? What could he have known that he was unwilling to let himself see? Moreover, the act of burning the papers proved that the version of him from last night had already anticipated that this stretch of memory would be lost. Li Zhuiyuan flipped through the books on the desk, not really expecting to find any clues within them, as he had no habit of scribbling in books. Yet when he picked up the second volume of *Zhengdao Fumo Lu* and turned to the final page, he noticed an alteration. A single character had been crossed out, and a new character was written beside it. *—Authored by Wei Zhengdao.* It had been changed to: *—Authored by Pseudo Zhengdao.* Li Zhuiyuan furrowed his brows. He was now almost certain that the person sitting at the desk last night was indeed himself. Neither a family member, a thief, a pervert, nor an unclean spirit would ever indulge in such pointless nonsense. Only he harbored that little bit of dark, sarcastic humor regarding the phrase "vanquished by the righteous path." "What on earth did I do?" Li Zhuiyuan walked over to the wardrobe, the mirror on its door reflecting his face. The moment he locked eyes with his reflection, a fierce wave of panic seized him, and he violently averted his gaze. That cold sensation of detachment surged up from the depths of his chest once more, far more violent and ferocious than before. He clutched his head with both hands, frantically murmuring the names of those in his inner circle. This time, the ones he recited the most were Ah Li and Great-Grandpa. As for the rest, including his father and mother, they were merely lumped together at the very end. At long last, the sensation receded. Lowering his hands, Li Zhuiyuan crouched on the floor and turned his head toward the mirror. Both "he" and the reflection were gasping for breath together. Once he had calmed down completely, Li Zhuiyuan stood up and took his washbasin, intending to wash his face to clear his head. As he pushed his door open, the door to the neighboring room swung open at the exact same moment. Li Zhuiyuan and Li Sanjiang stepped outside almost simultaneously. "*Cough*..." A brisk early-morning breeze blew against him, prompting Li Zhuiyuan to pause mid-step and cough. *Splat! Splat!* "Motherfucker!" Two birds happened to fly past side by side overhead, both releasing gifts from nature at that very second. Li Zhuiyuan stared at the bird dropping on the ground in front of him. Had he not paused to cough just now, it would have landed squarely on his head. Li Sanjiang rubbed his head, looked at the white smudge left on his fingers, brought it to his nose for a sniff, and gagged in disgust. He instinctively moved to wipe his hand against the wall, but realized this was his own home right outside his bedroom door. Reluctantly, he trudged over to the water vat on the terrace to wash his hands first, then scooped water to wash his hair. "Great-Grandpa, let me fetch you some hot water. Washing your hair with cold water will give you a cold." "Xiaoyuan Hou, fetch your Great-Grandpa some laundry detergent and a dry towel." Li Zhuiyuan retrieved the items first, then carried over the thermos and poured hot water into Li Sanjiang's washbasin before brushing his teeth beside him. "Damn it, what rotten luck today! Pure filth!" "Great-Grandpa, just take it as magpies announcing good news." "I swear, you wretched little brat have the cleverest tongue of all." "Great-Grandpa, what time did you go to bed last night?" "Right after the ritual ended. I slept early, which is why I'm up so early today." "Great-Grandpa, do you remember what you did after the ritual?" "What else would I do? Went to bed, of course." "I mean, what about right after you slapped the talisman onto the floor? Do you remember that?" "Of course I remember! Why wouldn't I? I didn't drink last night, so it's not like I blacked out." "Do you really remember?" "Xiaoyuan Hou, what's got into you?" "Great-Grandpa, after the ritual ended, did I say anything to you?" "You told me good night and headed back to your room. What's wrong with you? Did you have another nightmare?" "No, nothing. Maybe I just slept too soundly and forgot a few details." "That's completely normal. Not just little kids like you—even grownups get that way. Sleeping well is a blessing; it proves the fortune-transferring worked!" While they were talking, Li Zhuiyuan spotted Ah Li coming up the stairs. Today she wore an aristocratic court dress, looking elegant and charming. Drying his hair with the towel, Li Sanjiang clicked his tongue and remarked, "Say what you will, Xiaoyuan Hou, that girl truly is a stunner. Your Great-Grandpa used to think calling someone 'a natural beauty' was just polite flattery—until I met her." Li Zhuiyuan nodded. "Ah Li really is pretty." In the past, one of the greatest pleasures of the elders was watching youngsters play together and playfully playing matchmaker. Yet Li Sanjiang merely shook his head and sighed. "If only she weren't sick." The old man still vividly remembered the girl flying into a violent frenzy after he tried stuffing candy into her hands. "Great-Grandpa, Ah Li isn't sick." "Fine, she isn't sick. You're the sick one, satisfied?" "Yes." Li Zhuiyuan knew he was indeed sick; an episode had just flared up this morning. "By the way, Great-Grandpa, Runsheng is going back to Xiting today to visit Grandpa Shan. I'd like to go with him." "Go on, then. Oh, wait here a moment—I'll fetch some money from my room so you can buy a few things to bring along." "Great-Grandpa, you're so good to Grandpa Shan." "I'm just afraid that country bumpkin will lose all his money and starve to death." Li Sanjiang ducked into his room to grab some cash for Li Zhuiyuan, then headed downstairs, shouting, "Ting Hou, hurry up and make breakfast early today, I'm starving!" Li Zhuiyuan looked down at the money in his hand, placed his remaining pocket change on top, and smiled. He had enough starting capital. Ah Li glanced at the boy, then at the money in his hands, her eyelashes fluttering slightly. Down in the courtyard, Liu Yumei was brewing tea. Li Sanjiang ambled down the stairs, stretching his arms, and remarked, "Ah, looks like good weather today. Ought to be sunny." Liu Yumei replied, "So you're not going for a stroll today?" "What's there to stroll for? On a day this fine, I'd rather lay back in a rattan chair, soak up the sun, and doze off." Liu Yumei smiled and fell silent, instead using her right ring finger and index finger to lift her teacup. Just as she raised it midway, the cup suddenly shuddered, and a splash of tea spilled over the rim. Ignoring her scalded, reddened fingertips, Liu Yumei stared at the cup in disbelief—or more precisely, at the tea remaining inside, which had been reduced by half. *How did so much spill out all at once?* Though the moon waxed and waned and tides ebbed and flowed, they always followed discernible patterns; stillness could be discerned amid change, so violent fluctuations like this rarely occurred. What on earth had happened? Just then, Li Zhuiyuan and Qin Li walked down the stairs. Liu Yumei's gaze naturally fell onto the boy. As she studied his face, the fingertips of her left hand inside her sleeve lightly tapped against each other in rapid calculation. As if trying to make the girl laugh, Li Zhuiyuan pulled a funny face at Ah Li. Liu Yumei was forced to stop her fingers mid-count, because his physiognomy had shifted. Li Zhuiyuan turned toward Liu Yumei and greeted her politely: "Good morning, Grandmother Liu." "Morning, Xiaoyuan." Li Zhuiyuan went into the kitchen to help Auntie Liu carry out porridge and pickled vegetables. Noticing a batch of freshly made incense sticks drying in the northwest corner of the yard, he asked, "Auntie Liu, could you make me some short incense sticks?" "Of course. How short do you need them?" "About the length of a cigarette in a pack." "What would you use such short incense for? They'll burn down in no time." "They don't need to burn for long. The time it takes to smoke a cigarette is plenty." "Alright, Auntie will make them for you." "Thank you, Auntie Liu." After finishing breakfast, Li Zhuiyuan set off with Runsheng. Heading home made Runsheng so excited that he took both hands off the handlebars now and then, singing at the top of his lungs. He sang many different tunes, but he only knew the signature lines from each, making Li Zhuiyuan feel as though he were listening to a nonstop medley from the back seat. Xiting Town was not very far, and Runsheng's singing did not slow down his furious pedaling. Before long, they pulled up to his doorstep. Li Zhuiyuan looked at the house. Compared to the other village homes they had passed on the way in, it was truly dilapidated. Runsheng went inside and called out several times, but received no response. He came back out and said to Li Zhuiyuan: "Xiaoyuan, my granddad isn't home. He probably went to play cards. But the rice and flour are still here, so we'll have lunch to eat, hehe." "Then let's go find Grandpa Shan." "Come on, I'll take you there." There were several gambling dens in the village, all operating out of residential houses. The small ones had three or four tables, while the larger ones held a dozen or twenty. By tacit agreement, anyone playing cards there had to pay a small tea fee, and if someone won a big hand, they were expected to tip the owner a cut of the celebration money. Beyond providing tea, melon seeds, and peanuts, the owner had to network and gather enough players to keep tables running—a capability that determined whether the parlor could expand. It was still summer, which was off-season for the dens. The real peak season fell around the Chinese New Year. That was when migrant workers returned home for the holiday. Many of them scrimped and pinched pennies while away, but once they brought their year's hard-earned sweat and blood back to the village, they would immediately slip into new clothes, take a seat at the card tables, light up the fine cigarettes they had bought especially for the holidays, and strike a pose, ready to conquer the four directions. Of course, most of the time, they were the ones who got conquered. Almost every village had a small clique of locals who held no proper jobs, idling their days away playing cards. They counted on the New Year rush to win enough to cover their living expenses for the following year. Migrant workers rarely had the chance to play cards while working away, so their skill fell far behind these village slickers, not to mention the risk of walking into rigged games. Consequently, it was common for someone who had just returned home to lose an entire year's wages within days, sometimes even running into debt. Worse still, some had to pack up their bedrolls and slink back out to look for work before the holiday had even ended. Runsheng had explained all of this to Li Zhuiyuan along the way. He had only shared it to dissuade him after hearing Xiaoyuan mention wanting to gamble. Li Zhuiyuan found Runsheng to be a fascinating person. While simple and honest by nature, he possessed an observant streak; otherwise, he never would have noticed such undercurrents. And, of course, his ferocity when fighting was even more staggering. "Runsheng, if you know Grandpa Shan always loses at cards, why don't you talk him out of it?" "He's my granddad, so I have to listen to him. Just like you're my little brother, so I have to listen to you." "You're the older brother." "Granddad says I'm stupid, so I can only listen to two kinds of people in this life." "Which two?" "One is Granddad himself. He says he's stupid too, so listening to him might make me suffer alongside him, but at least he won't hurt me. "The other is listening to smart people. Smart people might hurt me, but before they do, they'll let me enjoy good fortune first." Grandpa Shan was playing cards in a small den at the western edge of the village. There were not many people inside—just one table playing four-player Dou Dizhu. When Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng walked in, Grandpa Shan had just laid down his hand and was paying out his money. "Well, look who's back—Runsheng Hou!" "Runsheng Hou, long time no see!" "Your granddad was just talking about you!" The card players clearly recognized Runsheng and greeted him warmly. Grandpa Shan stood up, felt Runsheng's arm, and chuckled. "Good! As expected, the food at Li Sanjiang's place is doing you good—you look sturdier." His expression was the spitting image of a farmer admiring his own sensible livestock after it had grazed in the neighbor's field. "Granddad, Xiaoyuan came too." "Grandpa Shan." "Ah, Xiaoyuan Hou." Grandpa Shan reached for the cash on the table, hesitated, and said, "Taking money from the table brings bad luck during a game. Tonight, I'll buy some cooked deli meat for you." "Alright, Grandpa Shan." Li Zhuiyuan swept his gaze over the stack of bills before Grandpa Shan... Well, it had worn so thin that calling it a "stack" was a stretch. The next deal began. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, Grandpa Shan drew cards while chatting idly with Runsheng. Li Zhuiyuan stood quietly to the side, watching. Before long, Grandpa Shan had lost three consecutive hands: twice as the landlord and once as a peasant. The sample size was too small for Li Zhuiyuan to say whether Grandpa Shan's luck was truly terrible, but one thing was certain: his card skills were thoroughly mediocre. A player who played poorly yet loved the game was welcomed with open arms anywhere he went. However, Li Zhuiyuan had no intention of playing here. Dou Dizhu moved too slowly, required teamwork, and yielded profits far too inefficiently. Li Zhuiyuan tugged on Runsheng's sleeve. Understanding immediately, Runsheng said, "Granddad, I'll take Xiaoyuan back first." "Mm, go ahead." Grandpa Shan waved without even turning around, thoroughly lost in the thrill of losing. Runsheng pedaled the tricycle to a larger gambling den. A makeshift shed had been erected outside a brick house, sheltering eight tables in full swing. Some were playing Dou Dizhu, others bridge, while the largest round table had nine people playing Zha Jinhua. In a game like Zha Jinhua, the more players there were, the more fun it was, and the better the bluffing worked. "Runsheng, remember what I told you earlier?" "Yeah, got it." Runsheng thumped his chest, walked over to an empty seat at the round table, and sat down. "Deal me in." The other players at the table froze, eyeing Runsheng up and down. Xiting Town sat at a major crossroads; small dens catered mostly to locals, while large dens drew folks from surrounding villages, so many did not recognize Runsheng. The main issue was Runsheng's awkward age. Calling him a child felt wrong given his massive build and years, but calling him an adult did not fit his youthful face either. Gamblers disliked playing with youngsters. For one, it looked bad if word got out; for another, kids rarely had any real money in their pockets. The den owner, a short, tubby man, waved Runsheng off. "Runsheng Hou, don't fool around. Your granddad isn't here—go look somewhere else." "I said, I want to play!" Runsheng deliberately kept a stern face, slamming all the money Li Zhuiyuan had handed him onto the table. Seeing his demeanor and the cash on the table, the players nodded quietly. The owner stopped protesting and turned away to pour tea, muttering under his breath, "Crooked roots make crooked branches." Runsheng was nervous, but he kept his expression stony. The current hand was not over yet; three players were still betting blind. Li Zhuiyuan's gaze swept over the nine men at the table, committing their physiognomies to memory. Zha Jinhua involved only three cards per hand, requiring far less technical skill than Dou Dizhu, with luck being the dominant factor. Ordinarily, playing this game was an unwise choice if one wanted consistent winnings. Yet Li Zhuiyuan had his own method. Once he had memorized their facial features, not a single micro-expression would escape his notice when they checked or drew their cards. Shrewd veteran gamblers were skilled at concealing their feelings or feigning tells, but that did not matter. The vast catalog of physiognomy illustrations from *Detailed Exposition of Yin-Yang Physiognomy* served as a massive mental database inside Li Zhuiyuan's head. No matter how well someone disguised themselves, they could never avoid slipping up entirely. True masters might exist in the world, but Li Zhuiyuan was confident he would not find one in this village; such people would not be bored enough to hustle pennies in a rural parlor. The round ended, and Runsheng posted his ante. For three consecutive hands, Runsheng folded as soon as he checked his cards, never betting blind, and deliberately flipped them face-up as he discarded them without trying to hide them. Li Zhuiyuan had instructed him to do this, needing to expand his sample size to match various hand strengths against specific micro-expressions. Of course, all three hands Runsheng drew were garbage, not even worth a call. With that, the sample data had been collected in thorough detail, aided by the fact that the players here liked showing their folded cards rather than discarding them face-down. Li Zhuiyuan quietly edged closer to Runsheng, who shifted his rear to make room. On the next deal, the cards were dealt right in front of Li Zhuiyuan. This caught the attention of several people at the table. They were somewhat displeased; Runsheng could pass for a young lad, but the child beside him was undeniably small. Still, since they were sitting together, nobody voiced an objection. After all, it was common enough to see fathers holding their sons in their laps and letting them draw cards. Li Zhuiyuan picked up some money, tossed it into the pot, and matched a small blind bet. "Whose kid is this? Look how fair and tender he is." "Nice clothes, too. Looks quite modern." The players began passing comments on Li Zhuiyuan. A bashful smile appeared on Li Zhuiyuan's face. What these men did not know was that from this moment onward, everyone at the table was playing with their cards face-up to this little boy. This could hardly be considered cheating, as reading expressions was an integral part of Zha Jinhua. After a round of blind bets, some checked their cards and folded, while others checked and stayed in. Li Zhuiyuan flipped his cards: a pair of fives. An awkward hand. However, of the two players who had checked and called, one was bluffing with low cards, and the other's hand was worse than his. With three players calling after checking, the remaining players stopped betting blind and checked their cards as well. Li Zhuiyuan felt at ease, having "seen" that he held the best hand at the table. In the end, the sole remaining player tried raising the stakes to intimidate the boy, but the bluff failed. When the cards were shown, he lost. Runsheng stood up, scooped the cash back, then asked the player to his left to shuffle and the player to his right to cut and deal. This was because Li Zhuiyuan was small, while Runsheng had clumsy hands that struggled to deal smoothly. At the same time, it helped avoid potential trouble after winning. The next round. After matching a blind bet, Li Zhuiyuan checked his cards: a pair of Aces. Every reaction as players checked their cards registered in his eyes. Four rounds in, only five players remained. To Li Zhuiyuan's slight surprise, all four held pairs of tens or higher, but he remained calm—his pair outranked them all. Because everyone held decent cards, they went through several more rounds before calling each other. In the end, Li Zhuiyuan's pair of Aces beat out the other pairs. The pot was hefty. When Runsheng stood up to rake in the money, his breath trembled with excitement. Third round: as usual, a blind bet, then checking his cards. A flush—and a straight flush at that! With a hand like this, what else needed to be said? Yet a few rounds in, Li Zhuiyuan realized there was indeed plenty to say. Excluding himself, the remaining five players held two straights and three flushes. Li Zhuiyuan could not help marveling: *Are they really this cooperative?* This round, the bets grew heavier and lasted longer. In the end, without any surprise, Li Zhuiyuan won. When his cards were called, Li Zhuiyuan even put on an innocent face and asked: "Is there supposed to be celebration money for this?" Runsheng stood up, inwardly screaming: *So much money! So much money!* In this game, holding a monster hand did not guarantee a massive win; sometimes, when nobody called, you only collected the ante. Only when multiple players held strong hands did the pot swell, allowing the winner to feast after a bloody showdown. Next round: blind bet, check cards. Li Zhuiyuan maintained a shy expression, but waves rippled through his mind. Three sixes. A three-of-a-kind. His luck today was a little too good. Then, as the others checked their hands, Li Zhuiyuan "confirmed" that among the other five players still in, two had straight flushes, two had flushes, and one had a straight. This... A bloodbath was unavoidable. Finally, Li Zhuiyuan laid down his hand against the last man who paid to see his cards. Everyone at the table was dumbfounded, and players from neighboring tables even abandoned their games to crowd around. While a three-of-a-kind was not unheard of, a clash of hands like this was exceedingly rare. "Beginner's luck is blazing hot, it seems." "This kid's got incredible hands today." "Look at that, how much has he won already?" The crowd buzzed with chatter. Li Zhuiyuan himself felt something was off; his luck seemed unnervingly high today. Runsheng had already dumped the melon seeds out of a bag beside him and was using it to sack the cash. A sudden doubt crossed his mind: *Are Xiaoyuan and Granddad even playing the same game?* For as long as he could remember, he had never experienced what winning felt like, let alone winning like this. Next round: blind bet, check cards. Li Zhuiyuan realized something was seriously wrong, because he was dealt: three Aces. Three rounds passed. Everyone had checked their cards, and not a single soul folded. Li Zhuiyuan "read" their hands and confirmed that something was extraordinarily bizarre. Aside from him, among the other nine players, five held three-of-a-kinds, and four held straight flushes. Li Zhuiyuan suspected he was possessed. He touched the talismans he had drawn in his pocket, sorely tempted to slap one onto his own forehead to see if it would turn black. What followed was no longer a bloodbath—it was a full-blown catastrophe. Having bled cash to Li Zhuiyuan in earlier rounds, everyone felt a sense of divine destiny holding hands like these. No one held back, no one showed mercy, and no one was kind enough to advise anyone else to quit while they were ahead. The maximum bets were tossed into the center round after round without hesitation. A few who ran short on cash showed their cards to bystanders behind them, taking on investors in exchange for a cut of the profits. Li Zhuiyuan felt his arm grow sore from tossing bills into the pile before the round finally drew to a close. After player after player challenged him only to fold in defeat, a suffocating tension settled over the table. When three Aces were ultimately laid bare, the last man nearly collapsed to the floor in tremors. Someone wanted to murmur accusations of cheating, but the words caught in their throats. Neither the boy nor Runsheng had touched the deck; the players to their left and right had shuffled and cut, and those two had lost the most. Yet the room remained relatively peaceful primarily because Runsheng stood up. Runsheng sensed the hostility, and winning such an astronomical sum had pushed him into a state of intense agitation. His eyes were reddening, radiating the exact same menacing aura he had shown yesterday against the two possessed thugs. Li Zhuiyuan's confidence in taking their money had rested on having Runsheng by his side. Even so, he had never anticipated things unfolding this way. In hindsight, the clever tricks he had prepared had been completely useless. Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Still playing?" He intended to throw a few hands on purpose, and if losing proved too slow, he would simply return half the money. "We're playing! Keep going! But this deck is worn out—let's swap in a fresh one." A bearded middle-aged man at the table gestured for everyone to sit down, exchanging a sharp glance with the players seated to Li Zhuiyuan's left and right. They normally never colluded, saving such tactics for the New Year, but today, they had no choice. A fresh deck was brought in. The player to the left shuffled, the one to the right cut, and the cards were dealt on their behalf. Following his routine, Li Zhuiyuan matched a blind bet and checked his cards: three Queens. A three-of-a-kind. Meanwhile, the expression of the man across from him revealed that he held the highest possible hand. They were cheating. What they did not realize was that their subtle eye contact, which they believed to be seamless, was as loud as a shout to Li Zhuiyuan. "I'm out." Li Zhuiyuan turned his cards face-down, sliding them directly into the discard pile and scattering them. "What?" The bearded man sprang to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Li Zhuiyuan. "You're cheating!" By pulling off a cheat himself, he had proven that Li Zhuiyuan had to be cheating as well—otherwise, who would ever discard a three-of-a-kind like that? "Runsheng, take out money for the table, the tea cups, and a cleaning fee." "Huh?" Runsheng was puzzled, but obediently followed instructions. Estimating the cost, he pulled some bills from the bag and set them on the table. Li Zhuiyuan stepped away from the table and said: "Smash it." *Bang!* A massive fist crashed down, shattering the table into splinters. This was not an ordinary person flipping a table, nor an emotional slap. The sight of a heavy wooden round table being pulverized by a single blow stunned everyone present into silence. Li Zhuiyuan calmly looked down at the ruined mess on the floor. He wasn't the one cheating, but did he need to explain himself? Not at all. "Let's go, Runsheng." "Right!" A sinister grin spread across Runsheng's face as he pointed a finger at everyone in the room. He had learned this gesture two nights ago from *God of Gamblers* on the county channel. It was a pity Xiaoyuan didn't slick his hair back with pomade; otherwise, he would be the spitting image of Chow Yun-fat. The bearded man dared not advance, yet remained rooted in place, his voice trembling: "We're calling the police!" It was an absurd threat. Local authorities rarely interfered with underground gambling dens unless reported, but once investigated, the operation was undeniably illegal, and all gambling funds would be confiscated. Li Zhuiyuan halted, turning back to face him: "Tan Yunlong from the town police station is my uncle." With that, he continued out the door. Runsheng toted the bag of cash, skipping along and dragging his shoes in the dirt, strutting in the playful posture of a trendy teenage girl. Li Zhuiyuan, on the other hand, appeared calm, almost solemn. Climbing into the tricycle, he promptly pulled out talismans and slapped them onto his forehead, shoulders, arms, and thighs, looking just like a dead-flipper preparing to finish itself off. After waiting a while, he checked each one. Not a single talisman had changed color. Gathering the talismans, Li Zhuiyuan let out a sigh. He understood now, murmuring: "The fortune-transferring ritual..."