Run Sheng was happily riding ahead, feeling that the blue sky, white clouds, fields, and irrigation channels were all so beautiful at this moment.
Ever since he could remember, every time his grandfather would say to him:
"Marquis Runsheng, Grandpa is going to play cards, if I win some money, I’ll buy you meat to eat tonight!"
Initially, Run Sheng really looked forward to it; later, every time he heard this, he would immediately run to the rice bin to check if there was enough rice left to cook a pot that could stand chopsticks upright for both of them in the evening.
Today, Run Sheng finally realized that playing cards... could actually win money.
The "home-schooling" he received over a long period almost made him feel that playing cards was similar to making offerings to the Buddha during festivals, as a kind of sacrifice.
In contrast, the expression on Li Zhiyuan sitting behind was not as beautiful.
Under his feet was a bag of money, including coins and wrinkled bills, both new and old; although not a vast sum in absolute terms, it was enough to start a small workshop behind Grand Master’s house considering the current prices and labor costs in the countryside.
Occasional good luck in card games is normal, who doesn’t eat a meal of dumplings during the New Year?
Essentially, this is still a probability issue.
But when a series of luck strikes in quick succession, the issue gradually shifts from probability to mysticism.
Given the memory loss after last night’s luck transferring ceremony, Li Zhiyuan was now almost certain: the ceremony worked.
Working doesn’t necessarily mean success; it just means it had an effect, brought changes, and even whether these changes are good or bad is debatable.
Li Zhiyuan didn’t know how much Luck the Grandmaster had transferred to him, but considering the "cooperative performance" of his fellow players at the card table just now, Grandmaster must have given him quite a bit.
Liu Yumei had once told him, Grandmaster’s Luck is not so easy to take; it’s more like a transaction.
Uncle Qin and Aunt Liu, with their small salaries, work like dogs at Grand Master’s House, hoping for the few steel coins Liu Yumei mentioned tucked away in some corner.
Now that he had taken so much at once, what price would he have to pay for it?
At this moment, there was no fullness of happiness, only overflowing fear.
Li Zhiyuan lowered his head, feeling that using Luck for gambling... was foolish.
Like a short-sighted Tomb Robber, who, after braving life-threatening dangers and finally entering the tomb, only has eyes for the gold and silver coins, completely ignoring the clothes, bronzeware, and porcelain that are also works of art.
"Brother Runsheng, don’t ride with no hands."
"Brother Runsheng, slow down a bit."
"Brother Runsheng, ride a bit to the side... no, better in the middle."
"Nevermind, Brother Runsheng, just ride as usual."
Just now, Li Zhiyuan suddenly felt a chill in his heart; he worried if an accident might suddenly occur, such as a serious car accident for himself?
But after a short bout of anxiety, he quickly returned to calm.
If the backlash from Grandmaster’s Luck was just , it would be too cheap, even make one feel like they got a bargain.
The more it seemed that way, the more uneasy Li Zhiyuan felt inside, because it meant that down the road, in the "distance ahead," what awaited him would be something big.
The tricycle entered Mr. Shan’s place, Run Sheng scratched his head, and asked Li Zhiyuan:
"Xiao Yuan, can I borrow some money from you first to buy more things to stock up for Grandpa? I’ll pay you back when Grandmaster gives me my salary."
Li Zhiyuan was silent.
In the past, he would have indifferently said: "Just take whatever you need."
But this money, won not by skill but by sheer Luck, felt hot to the touch; passing this hot potato to Mr. Shan seemed somewhat improper.
Li Zhiyuan rummaged through the bag and took out a few bills, an amount that didn’t exceed his capital; should be no big deal.
"You don’t need to give so much, really, just a little more rice, flour, and oil for my grandpa is enough, you gave too much, Xiao Yuan."
"It’s okay, you buy more."
"I shouldn’t buy too much; if I buy too much, he will easily sell it, and then we might end up even without enough food."
"You’ve thought it through thoroughly."
"By the way, Brother Runsheng, keep it a secret that I won money playing cards, don’t tell anyone."
"But how to explain this money..."
"Just say you won it."
"Brother Runsheng, where is your toilet?"
"Over there, you have to go around from behind the house, up the rice paddy ridge, it’s the neighbor’s toilet, we share it."
As soon as Li Zhiyuan left, Mr. Shan hustled back in from outside.
Even though the old man was getting on in years and not in good health, he was still energetic.
This might seem contradictory, but it’s not. Such elderly are often the kind who won’t linger long on their deathbeds, but rather, once their time comes, they pass quickly.
This is what the neighbors often say: "I thought he was quite hale and hearty, aye, how could he just be gone like that."
Mr. Shan had two reasons to rush back in such a hurry; one was because he lost all his money.
He has a habit of accepting his losses at cards, but he absolutely refuses to borrow money to try and turn the tables.
The second reason was that he heard that his own Run Sheng won a big sum of money at the village gate!
Of course, those who spread the word couldn’t pass it along so delicately. They don’t know Li Zhiyuan, so it naturally became that it was Run Sheng who won at cards.
"Grandpa, you’re back..."
Mr. Shan gave Run Sheng a fierce slap across his face.
"I told you not to learn bad habits, to play cards!"
"I was wrong, Grandpa."
"I’m asking you, where’s the money you won?"
Mr. Shan walked to the tricycle and, upon seeing the bag of money, his eyes widened.