The weapon by the pillow

Chapter 92 Showdown Moment

On the eighth round, Cheng Tan's hand was ready to win again.

This time he was listening to a seven-of-a-kind, which was very difficult to win with.

But he sensed something was wrong. It was like that strange feeling he was about to enter one of his thirteenth dreams.

It was full of bloodshed and absurdity, full of cold, indifferent gazes!

He had a feeling that this game would be crucial.

Cheng Tan broke out in a cold sweat. He drew a tile, and it was a six of bamboo.

This wasn't the card he wanted, but he still noticed a small scratch on the six of bamboo card, with a dark red substance inside.

Needless to say, this is bloodstains again.

Like creating a PowerPoint presentation, Cheng Tan began to connect these clues. Bone dice, bloodstained mahjong tiles, Jin Dafu's family massacre, Liu Li's secret, Fang Jie's mystery... These seemingly unrelated things all started this afternoon, and there may be countless connections between them.

He suddenly remembered what Liu Li had said in Xiao Hao's chess and card room: "This secret is the lock on your key... the key to unlocking your dream!"

A lock made of keys... bone dice... bloodstained mahjong tiles...

What kind of secret could connect these people from thirteen years ago into a single thread?

In the twelfth round, Fang Jie played a seven of bamboo.

Cheng Tan thought about it and decided not to lie.

He deliberately let that card go. He wanted to see what would happen if he didn't win.

Sure enough, in the next round, after drawing a tile, Director Sun turned over his hand and said, "I win! I have the Grand Slam, four points!"

Another big hand.

While tallying the scores, Cheng Tan noticed that Sister Fang had lost the most, but she seemed very calm, even somewhat satisfied. She paid her share and then looked at Cheng Tan: "Little fool, you almost won this round. Why did you let the seven of bamboo go?"

Cheng Tan was startled. How did Sister Fang know he was waiting for the Seven of Bamboo? Unless… she could see everyone's hands.

"I feel like I'm having bad luck, I want to change my cards," Cheng Tan made up an excuse, knowing that even he couldn't fool himself.

But Fangjie just smiled and didn't ask any further questions.

She turned to Director Sun and said, "Director Sun, you're really lucky tonight. According to the rules, you won, so you can ask me to leave you a souvenir or a story. Which would you like?"

Director Sun adjusted his glasses: "I'll choose a story. I'd like to hear the story of the little finger bone die."

He pointed to the smallest die in the box, which looked to be made from the first joint of his little finger, with the number "one" inlaid with black agate.

Unexpectedly, this request caused the air to freeze, and Fang Jie's expression changed slightly.

Her fingers trembled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

"This one..." She picked up the little finger bone die and examined it closely, as if it were a work of art. "This is a girl's little finger. A very pretty girl, twenty years old, just graduated from university, full of hope for the future."

"How did she lose her little finger?" Director Sun asked.

"Because of love." Fang's voice became somewhat unsteady. "She fell in love with a man she shouldn't have. That man had a family, status, and secrets. The girl found out his secrets and threatened to expose them. The man gave her two choices: take some money and leave, keeping quiet forever; or leave a memento and then disappear."

"She chose the latter?" Cheng Jing asked.

"No, she didn't choose either," Fang said. "She chose to fight back. She was going to call the police and expose everything. Then... she disappeared. Three days later, her body was found by the river, missing her left little finger."

The story was vivid and cruel, plunging the room into silence once more.

Cheng Tan was cursing a thousand times in his mind... High and mighty nobles, you can treat human life as worthless, you can treat other people's finger bones as works of art, you can't hear their souls crying!

He looked again at the bone dice in the box... The stories behind these dice were all filled with bloodshed and violence.

Fang Jie isn't a collector, she's... what? A judge? A vengeful spirit? Or simply a psychopath?

"It's time for the last round," Sister Fang broke the silence. "After this round, we can talk business. Xiao Han, Xiao Hua, I don't think you came to see me tonight just to play cards, right?"

Cheng Tan knew that the moment of truth was approaching.

The fifth and final game.

Everyone knew this round was of extraordinary significance. General Manager Zhao sat ramrod straight, Director Sun took off his glasses, and Sister Fang's expression turned serious. Even Cheng Jing stood up from her spectator chair and walked to Cheng Tan's side.

Roll the dice and draw cards.

Cheng Tan had a strong starting hand, with two pairs of wind tiles, and one each of the Red Dragon, Green Dragon, and White Dragon. He decided to go for a hand of all honors, one of the hardest hands to win, but one with a very high score.

The game was intense. Everyone was giving it their all, holding nothing back. Cheng Tan was completely absorbed in his calculations; his brain was like a supercomputer, processing massive amounts of data—the number of cards remaining in the wall, the probability of each card appearing, the possible hand combinations for each player, their playing habits and patterns…

On the sixth turn, Cheng Tan drew an East Wind tile, completing a set of three East Wind tiles. He now had three sets of three identical tiles, needing only one more to complete his winning hand.

On the eighth round, Cheng Tan drew a Red Dragon. He hesitated for a moment. The Red Dragon was an important card, but keeping it would complicate his hand. He decided to play a safe card—the North Wind.

"Pong!" Fangjie said, taking the North Wind tile that Cheng Tan had played and combining it with her two North Wind tiles to form a set. Then she picked up the set, glanced at it, and a smile appeared on her lips.

Her hand is also developing into a strong one.

On the tenth round, Cheng Tan drew a white tile. His hand was now ready to win, waiting for a single white tile. With all honors and a single pair, winning would result in a very high score.

But he didn't show it. His expression remained calm, and he played his cards cautiously.

In the twelfth round, Fang Jie played a "Fortune" card. Cheng Tan didn't touch it; it wasn't the card he wanted.

In the thirteenth round, General Manager Zhao played a South wind. Cheng Tan still didn't make a move.

In the fourteenth round, Director Sun played a west wind. Cheng Tan remained silent.

There were only eight cards left in the wall. Cheng Tan calculated that there was still one blank card in the wall, a probability of one in eight. Not high, but not entirely hopeless.

More importantly, he could sense that Fangjie's hand was also close to winning, and she was waiting for a big hand. If he let her win first, all his efforts tonight might be in vain.

On the fifteenth turn, Cheng Tan drew a card. His heart skipped a beat when his fingers touched the card—it was a blank tile.

He won the hand.

But he didn't immediately discard his hand.

He looked at Fang Jie, and Fang Jie was looking at him too. Their gazes clashed in the air, like two sharp knives.

"Sister Fang," Cheng Tan said, his voice firm. He felt like he was almost finished with a PowerPoint presentation in his head. "If I win this round, I hope you can grant me one request."

"What is it?" Fangjie asked.

"I guarantee Jin Xiaohao's safety." Cheng Tan looked into her eyes and said loudly, "I know you have the ability to do so."