Chapter 22: Ran into Young Master Ji

“Hu Juan, do you two still want to play?”

Hu Juan was about to shake his head when he saw Bearded Bro’s warning glare. He forced a smile. “I’ll play a few more hands with you.”

“Good brother.” Xiao Fen laughed and pulled him aside to whisper something.

Scarface and Bearded Bro saw Xiao Fen’s actions and exchanged a glance in private.

The dealer from earlier began shuffling the cards with practiced flair, her movements flashy—sometimes just a blur of hands. It looked chaotic, but the cards ended up in exactly the order she wanted.

She dealt cards to the four of them. Xiao Fen didn’t touch his. He asked, “How big do you want to play?”

“You’re going to keep up?” Bearded Bro played his card and glanced at it with a cold laugh.

“I’m the winner here. If someone’s handing me money, of course I’ll welcome all comers. I’m just afraid you’ll take out high-interest loans and end up bankrupt, jumping off a building.” Xiao Fen leaned back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, hands spread lazily.

“I hope you can still talk big later.”

“Hit me?” the dealer asked.

Hu Juan glanced at her hand—right on top again. He felt dejected but said cautiously, “No.”

Scarface, however, said bluntly, “Hit me.”

“Pretty sister, I’ll pass.”

“The house can still hit.”

“I’m good.”

The dealer gave Xiao Fen a perfunctory smile. As she dealt to Scarface, her left thumb was on top of the stack, riffling open the first card. Her right hand swiftly pulled out the second and dealt it.

It all happened so fast no one could see it with the naked eye—unless they had a high-speed camera slowing it frame by frame. But after reseating, Scarface was right beside the dealer. The two leaned toward the table, perfectly blocking the overhead camera from catching her hands.

That was cheating the casino couldn’t detect.

Scarface looked—it was a 3, making blackjack with his hand.

Seeing the dealer’s confident face, he borrowed fifty grand from the casino and called.

Bearded Bro laughed. “Seventy grand on the line this hand. If it flips four times by mistake, that’s two hundred eighty grand. Be careful.”

“Is your hand an ace and a ten? No way. Pretty sister’s been dealing hot all night.” Xiao Fen pushed all seventy grand in chips forward. “I’d be heartbroken. So it’s not just good to me.”

“Why don’t you call to borrow money first? Save getting high-interest loans you can’t repay, getting cornered on set, and ruining your reputation.” Bearded Bro was confident. The dealer was one of theirs—Xiao Fen couldn’t have blackjack.

“I bet you lose.”

“I’ve said all there is to say. If you want to die, don’t blame me for not holding back.” Bearded Bro said smugly.

Hu Juan showed first—only 17. Good thing his bet was smallest; he didn’t lose much.

Scarface excitedly slammed his cards down. King, 3, 8—blackjack.

Bearded Bro said, “Nice, but not big enough,” and slowly revealed his. Ace, 10.

Blackjack—the max.

The live stream chat exploded.

【It’s over. Brother Fen lost.】

【Not just a little—A and 10 pays four times, blackjack pays double. That’s six times the bet for Brother Fen!】

【Four hundred twenty grand?! He’d have to sell himself!】

【Right, almost forgot—this guy’s been strutting around City A for two days. How hasn’t he been caught?】

【With a different look every day, even I’d miss him face-to-face.】

【18th-Tier Celeb played himself. With his status, how much can he earn? High-interest rolls faster than he makes. Can’t wait for him to go duck.】

【Suddenly looking forward to it hehe.】

【I remember you haters who can’t stand Brother Fen doing well!】

【Blame your idol for being useless and arrogant. Birds of a feather—fans like you are the same. Stanning him is your shame.】

At the table, Xiao Fen widened his eyes in horror.

“How— all blackjacks?! Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

Even Fang Si Ting stood up, staring at the cards with a grim face.

“Hahaha, told you. You still green fighting me.” Bearded Bro scraped his beard with his thumb. “Today, pay up or you don’t leave!”

Scarface leered calculatingly. “Looks decent. Sell him to a nightclub to cover the debt—not bad.”

Some got buried in gambling debt, forced into the life—one wrong step, no way back, not even their own body.

“You’re so happy—ever think about my feelings?” Xiao Fen said. “Or look at my cards first before saying that.”

“What beats mine?” Bearded Bro laughed.

“Did you forget? I’m the house.” Xiao Fen said. “What if I have blackjack too?”

Bearded Bro’s smile froze.

“Flip it.” Xiao Fen gestured.

Bearded Bro scoffed, muttered “Impossible,” and flipped his hole card.

Ace, 10.

In blackjack, same hand strength—house beats player, players by order.

Last hand, Xiao Fen was house, Bearded Bro player.

In a blink, Bearded Bro and Scarface each owed Xiao Fen four times.

The world spun for them; everything felt like grasping at flowers through the mist.

“Stupid or cheap? You knew our ties and still rushed to hand over money.” Xiao Fen patted Hu Juan’s shoulder. “Thanks to you tonight.”

Scarface stared in realization, eyes bulging with rage.

No wonder—they won all night until Xiao Fen showed. He called out the dealer’s trick, stopping her cheats. Then they raked it in. This hand, those two carried millions in debt while Hu Juan escaped early with pocket change. Unless he tipped Xiao Fen off and they teamed up—why else was he the only light loser?

“You?! You two?!”

Bearded Bro pointed venomously.

Hu Juan looked blank and shocked. “No, I didn’t know… Ah!”

Bearded Bro and Scarface rushed him, pinning him down. Four fists flew—blood frothed from his mouth. In moments, eyes rolled back, face swollen like a pig’s head.

Casino guards pulled them off. Xiao Fen leaned in—barely conscious.

“Looks rough.” He glanced up at Fang Si Ting. “You just watch him get beat? No public decency?”

Fang Si Ting slanted him a look. “Think about why he’s getting beat.”

“Talking back now?”

Xiao Fen raised a brow. Seeing the glare shot back, he shut up obediently.

Just then, the ornate solid-wood door at the hall’s far end opened. Two teams of black-clad men escorted a young man in.

He had tousled brown curls in a sleazy perm, brown shades, cigarette dangling from his lips. Light blue shirt, dark blue slacks, matching suit jacket over shoulders. He spun a steel ring on his finger, smirking their way.

The crowd parted. Many quit gambling to gawk.

“Young Master Ji.” Some passing gamblers knew him and greeted respectfully.

“Ji?” Xiao Fen found the name familiar and recalled.

Lu Family in business, Fang Family in politics—this Ji Family ran the gray areas.

Like this underground casino, hidden in the Ji Family Hotel’s basement two floors down—discreet, with solid early-warning systems.

So even if the Pursuit Team knew he’d appear, only Fang Si Ting was inside tonight; others waited outside the hotel.

He remembered the book: Ji Family had a son who liked Ou Yu too. Minor role, maybe fourth male lead.

Should’ve brought Ou Yu to seduce—missed chance.

Ji Qinglin pushed his shades atop his head, eyeing Fang Si Ting coldly, then Xiao Fen. To the manager: “When did our casino get so lax? Letting minors in?”

Fang Si Ting glanced beside him, a mocking glint in his cold eyes.

“Looks young—problem?” Xiao Fen haughtily adjusted his slipping black frames.

“Young Master Ji, these two cheated!” Scarface yelled from under two bouncers.

“Proof?”

“He admitted it!”

“I say you’re a pig—admit it and start rooting?”

Scarface choked.

“Young Master Ji, casino rules: pay on the spot, settle at the table. They owe me five hundred sixty grand—how to handle?” Xiao Fen said.

Scarface and Bearded Bro paled, legs shaking, lips white.

Ji Qinglin nodded. A man behind hauled two big cases of cash over.

“Our casino honors rules. Yours won’t be short.” Another grabbed their thumbs for prints on two docs.

“Generous, Young Master Ji.” Five-sixty plus prior wins—near six hundred grand, over two hundred pounds. Xiao Fen split a case to Fang Si Ting to carry. After two steps, two tall bruisers blocked them.

Coldness flashed in Xiao Fen’s eyes. He narrowed his fox eyes, smiling faintly at him.

“You accused cheating—I let it slide, even got your debt collected.” Ji Qinglin sat front-center, arms spread, wrists on the table, eyeing them. “As thanks, play me a couple hands?”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“You think you walk with that six hundred grand?”

“Ji Family casino—no honor?”

“Only if you had honor.”

Scarface and Bearded Bro, hands bound behind by bouncers, shouted: “They cheated! How else all blackjacks!”

Xiao Fen smiled sweetly at them. They ducked heads, silent.

“Young Master Ji, let me introduce.” He stepped up beside Fang Si Ting, hand on the suitcase handle, leaning, backhand patting Inspector Fang’s solid chest. “Mr. Fang, my bodyguard. Merc in S Country, saw combat, fought pirates, hijacked planes. Retired under a year—hands still bloody. Want to go hard? We go all the way.”

Fang Si Ting glanced down. That long, strong hand patted his chest teasingly, lingered.

No sign of leaving.

He grabbed the slim wrist, hauling the unserious guy straight.

“What nonsense.” Sounded like an international terrorist.

“So rigid.” Xiao Fen whispered in his ear. “Out here, identities are what you make.”

“What’s yours now?”

“Crime genius turned gambling god—degenerate underage college dude slaving an hour for six hundred grand.”

“…”

“Too little, right?” Xiao Fen hugged his chest, shaking his head. “Waste of time.”

“Your face shines bright.”

“Yeah? You see the holy glow from my soul too?”

“Too much gilding.”

Xiao Fen: “…”