After an unknown number of rounds, it wasn't until the man holding the King-high Flush had very little money left that he finally realized something was wrong.
It was only then that his face turned deathly pale again, even leaning toward a greenish hue, and the sweat on his forehead began to drip incessantly like rain.
Forcing a look of composure, he tossed out 20 yuan and said to Wang An
"Let me see your cards."
As he spoke, he stood up and reached out to grab Wang An's cards.
Wang An immediately covered his cards with his hand and cursed ruthlessly
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Don't you know the rules of Fried Golden Flower? There are still two blind players left; what the hell do you want to see? You think I'm letting you look?"
Wang An's goal was to harvest. Not only did he want to harvest Ma Ben, but it would be even better if he could conveniently eat up all the money in this kid's hands as well.
Mainly, from the start of the game, Wang An had found this kid extremely irritating. With only a little over a thousand yuan in his hand, he wanted to use tricks to win money—specifically, he wanted to win the 10,000 yuan in Wang An's hand. He wondered who had given him such courage.
Although the intent of Fried Golden Flower is to "fry," meaning to "bluff" or deceive, wanting to bluff others when you don't even have enough capital is practically a joke.
One must realize that at a gambling table, you really can crush someone with money because the rules are simple: I bet 10,000 yuan, and I just ask if you can afford to call.
You can call? Fine, then I'll add another 10,000.
If 10,000 isn't enough, then 20,000; if 20,000 isn't enough, then 100,000. As long as you dare to call the bet.
After Wang An finished cursing, the man with the King-high Flush froze, his outstretched hand stiffening. He swallowed hard a few times and turned to look at Ma Ben with a face full of pleading, stammering
"Ma... Brother Ma, why don't... why don't you... you look at the cards?"
At this moment, only if Wang An or Ma Ben looked at the cards could the man with the King-high Flush escape this predicament.
But as the old saying goes, "There are no fathers or sons in a casino." Regardless of his relationship with Ma Ben now—even if they were biological brothers—it was impossible for Ma Ben to look at the cards.
Mainly, Ma Ben had gone blind for an unknown number of bets already. If Ma Ben's hand was very small and no match for the King-high Flush, wouldn't all the money Ma Ben had just thrown in also go down the drain?
Ma Ben gave a bitter smile. Just as he was about to speak, the man with the King-high Flush said hopefully
"Brother Ma, my hand can definitely win. If I win, I'll give you half. Just look—"
Seeing that Ma Ben didn't agree immediately, the man hurriedly added
"No, Brother Ma, I'll give you 70%. I'll just take 30% to cover my costs."
Unfortunately, Ma Ben kept his three poker cards pressed firmly against the table in front of him, his expression cold.
Clearly, these two knew each other, though their relationship was likely mediocre.
Of course, having a good relationship was useless. Who cares about relationships at a gambling table?
For a gambler, even if their own father showed up, it wouldn't matter.
Wang An watched this scene impassively and casually pulled out a cigarette.
Just as he put the cigarette to his lips, Huang Zhong sensibly produced a lighter, lit it, and held it over.
Wang An took a puff. He saw Ma Ben advise the man with the King-high Flush
"Second Brother, just fold. If I win, I'll give you 100."
To be fair, for Ma Ben to say this at a gambling table was actually quite decent.
But compared to the nearly 600 yuan he had already thrown in, the man with the King-high Flush was clearly unwilling to let go. In his view, as long as he could hold out until the end, he would definitely be the one to sweep all the money off the table.
Because what he held was a very strong hand: a King-high Flush.
What he didn't know was that all of this was an illusion. Wang An simply wanted to conveniently empty his pockets to teach him a lesson.
However, as the saying goes, "Kind words cannot persuade a ghost destined to die," and "The pitiful always have something hateful about them."
After Ma Ben spoke, the man's expression changed instantly. He looked at Ma Ben with hatred for a while, endured it for a long time, and then turned to a man who "sold slips" and said
"Brother Hu, get me 20,000 yuan. I'll put my Jiefang truck up as collateral with you."
Unexpectedly, the so-called "Brother Hu" replied ruthlessly
"How old is that truck of yours? Every single day it's either this breaking or that breaking. You can't even squeeze 8,000 yuan out of it."
Wang An had never expected that there was actually a loan shark hiding in this room.
However, Wang An didn't care much. He had dealt with someone as substantial as Wei Cheng; he certainly wouldn't be bothered by a loan shark in Sujiatun.
That said, Wang An was actually quite interested in the Jiefang truck.
Buying a vehicle in this era was not an easy task. Wang An had originally set his sights on a Jinbei double-row SY132 produced in Fengtian, but even with the influence of Wu Dong and Zhang Shuya, buying one privately was extremely difficult.
Whether it was freight trucks or passenger cars of this era, annual production was very low. Furthermore, the new cars produced were mainly supplied to various units and factories; they simply wouldn't sell to private individuals.
Since Wang An and the others started collecting furs, they urgently needed a truck for long-distance transport. If he didn't have one, he would have to borrow from Wu Dong or Zhang Shuya.
But that was just how Wang An was: if it was something he could handle himself, he didn't want to trouble others, not even his "siblings" from different parents.
While thinking this, Wang An remained impassive. Regardless, there was no way he would buy a truck from this kid with the King-high Flush.
After "Brother Hu" finished speaking, the man's face turned ashen, and his whole body swayed.
In his heart, he still believed this was a guaranteed win. Once he won, he would immediately have money. In fact, the money currently on the table already exceeded what he had in his hand when the game started.
Unfortunately, in this "sure-win" game, he had run out of gambling capital and had been ruthlessly bled dry to this point.
With bloodshot eyes and a determined face, he said to Brother Hu
"Then 8,000. I know the rules. If I win, I'll give you 8,500 to redeem the truck. If I lose, the truck belongs to you."
Brother Hu's face lit up with joy. He glanced at him and then said coldly
"Don't forget the 500 yuan 'head-cutting' fee. You'll only get 7,500 yuan. If I don't get the 8,500 yuan redemption money by 6:00 tomorrow morning, the truck is mine."
It had to be said, the interest was terrifyingly high; even Wang An grimaced upon hearing it.
This was equivalent to borrowing 7,500 and having to pay back 8,500. The key was that it was currently 5:00 PM, meaning there were only 13 hours until 6:00 AM tomorrow.
At this point, Su Guangjun couldn't help but interrupt
"Dai Hongsheng, are you fucking crazy? You bought that truck for 15,000 just the year before last, and it's still hauling grain. Can you just stop playing, for fuck's sake?"
Only then did Wang An learn that the man with the King-high Flush was named Dai Hongsheng.
Dai Hongsheng was clearly completely swept up in the heat of the moment. After Su Guangjun spoke, Dai Hongsheng said with bloodshot eyes
"Stay out of it. I don't believe I can lose this hand."
Turning back, Dai Hongsheng said to Brother Hu
"Brother Hu, do the paperwork. Give me the money."
Su Guangjun sighed, his cheeks twitching, and stopped speaking.
And so, after signing the mortgage papers, Dai Hongsheng successfully obtained 7,500 yuan.