Sometimes, happiness arises.

Fatty had always considered himself a decent pool player, but he hadn’t expected Ma Ping to be even better—the two were simply not in the same league. In just twenty minutes, they played ten games, including the time it took to rack the balls. Whenever it was Ma Ping’s turn, he didn’t hesitate at all; he’d raise his cue and take the shot, sending ball after ball flying into the pockets as if they were bullets.

Out of those ten games, Fatty only managed to win one, and that was pure luck. Counting the two hundred he’d won earlier, he had lost a total of fourteen hundred yuan.

He couldn’t keep playing—the more he played, the more he lost. Setting his cue down in defeat, Fatty pulled out all the cash he had, six hundred yuan, and asked Zhang Pa, “How much do you have?”

Yesterday, he’d withdrawn a thousand for the hospital. After paying the rent and adding what was in his pocket, he had just over five hundred left. He counted out five hundred in crisp bills. “That’s it.”

Fatty turned to Ma Ping. “Is eleven hundred enough?”

“No way,” Dragon Brother cut in before Ma Ping could answer.

Judging by their age, Dragon Brother and his two companions were probably around twenty-two or twenty-three, a few years younger than Fatty and Zhang Pa. Now, having to face debt collection from a bunch of kids made Fatty’s face turn grim.

Zhang Pa tried to smooth things over. “Alright, let’s settle it here. By the way, didn’t you lose your phone? Da Hu found it, you should go get it.”

“It’s been found?” Dragon Brother sneered. “I don’t really care about the phone—I just don’t want to be taken advantage of. But if you’ve found it, fine, I’ll consider you sensible. How about this: you still owe three hundred, right? Let’s play one more round. I’ll play, and either of you can take me on, doesn’t matter who. If you lose, you don’t owe me anything—just call me ‘Lord Dragon’ in front of everyone. If you win, not only is your debt cleared, but you can also take all the money on the table.”

Fatty gritted his teeth. “I’ll pay what I owe, but I won’t gamble with titles. Three hundred on one shot. If I lose, I’ll owe you six hundred. Give me your number, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”

“Six hundred just to get me to play? You must be joking.” Dragon Brother chuckled. “Let’s not bother with six hundred, it sounds ugly. There’s eleven hundred on the table, right?” He pulled out a wad of cash, counted out nine hundred, and placed it on the table. “Let’s make it an even two thousand. Winner takes all. But if you lose, you don’t have to call me ‘Lord’—just give yourself ten hard slaps in front of everyone here. So, do you dare?”

Fatty protested, “It’s just three hundred yuan, is all this really necessary? If you can wait, I’ll go get the money now.”

Dragon Brother considered it. “That’s no fun. I’ll make it fairer—let’s bet on ten slaps each. If I win, I slap you; if you win, you slap me.”

Fatty retorted, “What’s with you and slapping people? Are you a pervert?” Then he turned to Zhang Pa. “Stay here, I’ll go get the money.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dragon Brother said. “I’m not done playing.”

Zhang Pa interjected, “We just had a fight, no one came out ahead. Is this really necessary?”

“It is. You tried to scam my phone, so yes, it’s necessary,” Dragon Brother replied. “I need to let off steam. Think about it: if I’d scammed you, wouldn’t you need to vent too?”

Zhang Pa rubbed his nose. He realized he’d misunderstood—this wasn’t just a game of pool, it was payback. They were out for revenge, looking for trouble. If he didn’t let them get it out of their system, they’d never let them leave.

He asked Dragon Brother, “What’s your name?”

Dragon Brother smirked, “What, trying to get my background? My surname’s Long. Call me Dragon Brother, that’s enough.”

Zhang Pa shook his head. “How about this—forget the slaps, it’s pointless. Let’s play one round. If I lose, I’ll stand here and let you punch me five times—I won’t dodge. If I win, we take back our money, and all old debts are canceled.”

Dragon Brother agreed, “Fine, but the money’s still two thousand. Winner takes all; loser takes five punches. And as for old debts—those are separate from today.”

Zhang Pa had no room to haggle. A crowd was gathering, and he couldn’t tell if any of them were Dragon Brother’s backup—they were all strangers. He picked up a cue and asked, “Who breaks?”

“Up to you,” Dragon Brother replied. “I’ll give you the first shot.”

Zhang Pa acknowledged him, racked the balls, and asked, “Is this arrangement fair?”

He was trying to separate the solids and stripes as much as possible to keep things fair, but true fairness doesn’t exist. Dragon Brother didn’t even look, just grunted his approval.

Judging by his attitude, was this guy a master too? Seriously, were pool masters that common? Fatty was already quite good, but now he’s met three more on a random night—something didn’t add up.

Fatty suddenly cut in, “You play. If you lose, I’ll take the punishment.” Meaning, he’d take the beating.

Dragon Brother refused. “This is between me and him. If you want to get hit, wait for the next round.”

Fatty grew anxious and said to Zhang Pa, “Sorry to drag you into this again.”

Zhang Pa replied, “Didn’t you say I was lucky? Trust me.” He placed the cue ball near the edge of the table and broke hard, sending the fifteen balls scattering with a bang.

Fatty, when he played, would break cautiously, like he was playing snooker—just making sure the cue ball touched the pack, not opening the balls up, trying not to leave an easy shot for his opponent. But Zhang Pa broke with full force, which was almost suicidal and usually ended badly.

He broke, stood aside with his cue, and said nothing.

Dragon Brother eyed him, “Did you do that on purpose? I don’t want to take advantage; I want you to lose fair and square.” He potted a solid, chose his suit, then picked another ball by the cushion and gently stroked it in before straightening up. “Your turn.”

He had left the cue ball awkwardly on the rail, with no easy shot. Zhang Pa tilted his head, aimed, and shot with force.

He was playing stripes, nine through fifteen, needing to clear his balls before going for the eight. Miraculously, the hard shot caromed and knocked the eight ball into the corner pocket.

Game over—Zhang Pa won.

He picked up the eleven hundred and told Dragon Brother, “Sorry,” before turning to retrieve his suitcase.

Dragon Brother was put out, frustrated beyond words. How could this happen? The cue ball was on the rail, the eight ball was stuck on the cushion, and the nine ball had no angle. Yet somehow, through sheer dumb luck, the eight went in?

Dragon Brother demanded, “Play another round.”

Zhang Pa replied, “The debt’s settled.”

Dragon Brother pointed at the nine hundred still on the table. “That’s yours.” He pulled out more money. “One game to settle it all—two thousand against two thousand. Do you dare?”

Zhang Pa didn’t want to play, but he knew he couldn’t leave if he refused. “This is the last game?”

“The last game, win or lose, and everything’s done,” Dragon Brother said. “You break.”

Zhang Pa agreed. Losing a bit of money was better than getting into a fight.

He approached the table, set the cue ball, and broke with all his strength—again, the balls exploded across the table.

Dragon Brother was exasperated. He had wanted a proper contest to show off his skills, but what was this?

He glanced around at the twenty-something spectators, chalked his cue, chose a target, and began his attack.

He played beautifully, clearing six balls in quick succession. Not only was he sinking his own balls, but he was also performing trick shots, dropping some of Zhang Pa’s balls as well. Six shots in, six of his balls and three of Zhang Pa’s were down.

His positioning was superb. No matter if the target was hidden or stuck to the rail, he could find a way. With this skill, he could have entered a national open tournament.

Zhang Pa felt helpless. Was this guy on the national team? Did he have to be this intimidating?

There’s a saying about not getting cocky. Dragon Brother had been riding high, but as he lined up his last ball, glanced at the eight, and played a high-spin shot, things took a turn. As predicted, his ball went in, the eight rolled to the pocket, but unexpectedly, the cue ball followed it in.

Now it was Zhang Pa’s turn with five balls left on the table. He was allowed to place the cue ball wherever he wanted. He aligned the cue ball, the target, and the eight in a straight line, softly nudged the cue ball, which hit the target, which bumped the eight, and the eight rolled slowly into the pocket.

Another win.

Zhang Pa didn’t touch the cash on the table but said to Dragon Brother, “We’re leaving,” and picked up his suitcase.

“Take your money,” Dragon Brother said angrily. “I’ll be at Da Hu’s tonight. If you’ve got the guts, come again.” He tossed his cue aside and called for his group to settle up and leave.

Zhang Pa pocketed the cash, turned to Fatty, and said, “You almost got me killed.”

Fatty gave him a thumbs up. “I believe in luck now. With your luck… let’s go play mahjong.” Then, “Give me my money.”

“We’ll talk downstairs,” Zhang Pa replied, carrying his suitcase out.

They split the money downstairs; Zhang Pa gave Fatty a thousand, meaning Fatty was ahead by four hundred. Including his own five hundred, Zhang Pa had made twenty-five hundred. As they divided the cash, he remarked, “If you want to get rich, gambling is the way.”

Fatty grinned, “Let’s do it again.”

“No way!” Zhang Pa said. “Business is business. Four hundred is good enough for you.”

Fatty protested, “I came back to save you, aren’t you touched?”

“Yeah, right. If you hadn’t run off, would I have been in such a mess?” Eyeing his suitcase of books, he told Fatty, “You go on, I’m going to sell my books.”

“You’re crazy—won over two thousand and still selling books?”

“That’s the difference between you and me. This is about passion. You wouldn’t understand.” Zhang Pa went to the curb, opened his suitcase, set out a few books, and shouted, “Fresh new urban novels! Come and see, twenty yuan a copy!”

His shouting attracted no customers, but it did draw the group they’d just separated from.

Dragon Brother squatted down and flipped through a book. “Selling pirated books? Interesting.” Suddenly, he shouted, “City inspectors! Someone’s selling illegal books—dirty books, too! Quick, fine him!”

Zhang Pa sighed, “How bored are you?”

“I’m not bored. I’m doing my duty for the country,” Dragon Brother joked.

Zhang Pa said, “Fine, you win.” He started packing up, but Dragon Brother was still holding one of the books.

“Hand it over,” Zhang Pa demanded.

“Come on, say it again,” Dragon Brother taunted.

Zhang Pa was even more exasperated. He shot him a glance, hefted his suitcase onto his bike.

Dragon Brother followed, “You live so simply. Brother, tell me, are you over thirty? Over thirty and still riding a bike around town selling books—how do you get by?”

Zhang Pa looked at him, then at Fatty. Fatty quickly shook his head, signaling he didn’t want to fight.

After a moment, Zhang Pa realized—he really couldn’t afford to get into it. If this guy truly was surnamed Long…