They were all in it together.
The gambler performing tricks, the shills mixed in with the bettors to stir up the mood, and even the tout who brought us here—they were all on the same side.
Everyone else besides them were either people who had already lost their money or people who were about to lose it.
“Come on, guess which bowl has the die, and I'll give you three times your bet!”
The gambler was a middle-aged man of small stature, but his gaze was as sharp as any martial artist's.
My father asked me.
“Do you have any money?”
“You don't have any money?”
My father nodded.
“I never have a reason to carry it.”
True.
When would the Heavenly Demon ever need to take out a money pouch?
I couldn't just pass up this precious opportunity to tease my father.
“If you lost Uncle Hwi and me, you wouldn't even be able to buy a meal. You'd have to dine and dash, or leave your sword as collateral.”
Just imagining my father in such a state was amusing.
“If you're done teasing, the money.”
My father held out his hand.
I took out one nyang from the money pouch in my robes and handed it to him.
“Bet carefully! In this business, that man is a sword god and a fighting god. His hands are faster than our eyes.”
Of course, he couldn't escape my father's eyes.
I was just saying it for the swindlers to hear.
"Alright, I'll start shuffling.”
The man opened each bowl to show they were empty, then placed the die he was holding into one of them.
Opening, closing, moving it here, moving it there.
His hand movements weren't too fast, which ironically made it more confusing and suspicious.
Finally, the man's hands stopped.
“Now, where will you place your bet?”
My father placed a nyang in front of the middle bowl.
I wonder if this was the first time in his life my father had ever gambled on the street.
“Any other takers? Then I'll open it.”
When the man opened the middle bowl, the die was there.
The hand wasn't faster than the eye.
“You have good eyes.”
The gambler seemed relaxed.
Was that confidence because he hadn't shown his real skills yet? Or was it a strategy to let you win a little at first, only to clean you out in the end?
The tout came over and needlessly praised my father.
“Martial artist, you have truly sharp eyes.”
My father didn't even look at him.
What held my father's interest right now were those three white bowls.
“Alright, shuffling again!”
The gambler shuffled the die again.
The die moved dazzlingly between the bowls.
This time, my father chose the one on the right.
“Any more bets?”
Once again, my father was the only one who bet.
When he opened the bowl my father had chosen, the die was there.
After two correct guesses in a row, the onlookers let out soft gasps of admiration.
My father's third choice.
He guessed the right bowl again.
It was then I saw it.
The gambler looked slightly flustered.
He had clearly tried to lead his opponent to choose a different one, but it hadn't worked.
At the same time, I also saw this.
The joyful smile on my father's lips.
He was enjoying playing along with these fellows.
“Father! You've won three times in a row.”
The onlookers also started to show genuine interest.
The gambler shuffled the die again.
His hand movements were even more careful this time, but…
“He got it right again!”
At that, the people around him exclaimed and cheered.
They weren't the shills; they were real onlookers.
From the tout to the shills, their bewilderment was plain to see.
It was probably because the gambler usually never let anyone guess correctly four times in a row.
While they exchanged quick glances, the die was shuffled again.
On the fifth time, other people followed my father's lead and placed their bets.
My father was right again.
Applause erupted from all around.
Now even passersby were gathering to watch.
All eyes were on my father.
He had only ever received gazes of respect and fear.
Had he ever been looked upon with such hopeful expectation by street market onlookers? Of course not.
These people would never have been able to get so close to him.
“Alright, shuffle again!”
My father was purely enjoying himself.
If he had any ill will toward them, he wouldn't have kept betting only one nyang at a time.
Or he could have made them suffer a much greater loss.
What if he had lost ten, then twenty nyang, and then put down a promissory note for a thousand nyang? They would have gladly accepted it, and what if he had guessed correctly then?
The problem wouldn't be losing the money, but that they would try not to pay, leading to a situation where they could lose their lives.
But my father didn't do that.
He just kept betting one nyang at a time.
When he got the sixth one right, the onlookers cheered, and by the seventh, the gambler's expression had completely stiffened.
Finally, the tout approached and subtly suggested.
"Excuse me, how about we stop now?”
My father looked at him.
I wondered what he was thinking as he looked at them.
I couldn't know, but it was clear he hadn't started this to torment them.
He had simply joined in for a moment because it looked like fun.
“Alright.”
My father gave me the money he had won so far.
“Let's have dinner with this.”
“With this much money, we can enjoy a banquet.”
Just then, the gambler spoke.
“How about one more round, betting all the money you've won today?”
The tout, startled, went up to him and whispered something.
It seemed he was telling him not to get carried away and to end it, but the gambler didn't listen.
Would my father ever refuse such a situation?
“Shuffle.”
Given the circumstances, wouldn't the gambler use his trump card? A trick he could never lose with.
Three overturned bowls.
My father chose the one in the middle.
Since all the money won so far was on the line, the sum was quite large.
Seeing the gambler's confident expression, it was certain the die wasn't in the middle bowl.
"Alright, I'll open it now.”
The moment the man opened the middle bowl, his eyes widened.
The die was in the place that should have been empty.
Even his final trick had failed.
Not only the gambler, but the tout and the onlookers were all surprised.
They probably never imagined he would get this last one right.
The crowd cheered.
“As expected! My father is the best!”
I said to the gambler.
“Now, give us the money.”
For a moment, the gambler was speechless, as if in a daze.
"Please wait a moment."
The tout's eyes darted back and forth.
The moment they thought it was a waste to hand over the money, their fates would be sealed.
Finally, the gambler took money from his pouch and handed it over.
“Here you go.”
This gambler had lost the bet for money, but he had won the bet for his life.
“How in the world did you do it?”
My father replied as he accepted the money.
“Have you ever told anyone your tricks? It's the same for me.”
I laughed out loud at my father's response.
It was the first time I had ever seen him speak like that to a gambler.
But the surprise didn't end there.
My father returned half of the winnings to the gambler.
“Why are you giving half of it back?”
The gambler asked, to which my father quietly replied.
“There will be times when you have to return the money and let someone go. When that happens, give them half back and send them on their way.”
In that instant, my father's gaze changed.
It was no longer the soft gaze he had while playing with the swindlers.
It was a heavy gaze that a mere gambler could not bear.
The moment he met that gaze, the gambler's head lowered on its own.
“I will be sure to keep that promise!”
Leaving the man with his head bowed low, we walked away.
“That's amazing.”
“Amazing? He won't keep his promise anyway.”
My father didn't believe the gambler's promise.
"He will keep it."
“He might keep it once or twice. But eventually, he will forget the fear of this moment.”
My father fundamentally didn't trust people.
There was no way he would trust a street gambler.
You're right, Father.
Perhaps that's true.
But he might also keep that promise for the rest of his life.
You say that because you don't know how terrifying your gaze is.
“Then why did you give him a chance?”
After a brief pause, my father answered.
“Because I'm in a good mood today.”
The moment I heard those words, I stopped in my tracks.
Could your mood be as good as mine right now? As good as mine, seeing you so happy for the first time? As good as mine, hearing you express that feeling to me?
“Since I won the money, I'll buy dinner.”
“Why don't we buy that dinner and eat it in the carriage as we go?”
My father looked at me, then nodded.
He understood my meaning.
The gambler had admitted defeat gracefully, but the tout might regret losing the money and send swordsmen after us at night.
Besides, he saw that our money pouches were full.
So if we got rid of those guys, someone else behind them would come after us.
Then, what the Grand Strategist was worried about might happen.
Someone behind them, and someone else behind them.
It's inevitable that we might get caught up in things while traveling, but not now.
Our journey is only on its second day.
Father, no matter how much fate tries to pull you in, we can just avoid it first.
The next day, we were riding in a carriage toward Shaanxi.
My father sat with his eyes quietly closed, and I was looking at the scenery outside.
Watching the wildflowers blooming along the river, I suddenly asked my father.
"Father, are you good at fishing?"
With his eyes still closed, my father nodded.
His expression was confident, as if to say, 'Is there anything I'm not good at?'
“How about a fish dish for dinner tonight? We'll have a competition to catch the biggest fish, and the loser has to do everything from cleaning the fish to cooking it, oh, and cleaning up afterwards. If you're not confident, you can forfeit.”
With his eyes still closed, my father spoke to Hwi.
“Stop the carriage by the river.”
My father was a man who had left things like hesitation back at the Main Sect.
Hwi pulled the carriage over to the riverbank.
“Of all the fish you've caught, what was the biggest one?”
At that, a surprising fish was mentioned by my father.
“A Golden-Scaled Starfish.”
It was a spiritual fish from the legends.
It was probably bigger than a person.
“Does it really exist?”
“I caught it and consumed its inner core.”
“Ah! I can't beat a Golden-Scaled Starfish.”
I might lose in terms of size, but I would win in terms of rarity.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp.
The ultimate boss among spiritual fish.
Of course, I couldn't catch it now.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp could only be obtained at that specific place and time where I had gotten it later.
“I'm quite the fisherman myself.”
It was no joke.
I had searched the waters so much trying to catch that damn Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp that my body felt like it was about to burst.
“Well then, let's start by making fishing rods.”
I used my lightness arts to look around and found some bamboo.
I cut down the best one.
I cut two, one for my father as well.
“Which bamboo will you choose?”
“You choose first.”
“Acting so relaxed. I, for one, won't go easy on you.”
But contrary to my words, I chose the less suitable of the two bamboo stalks.
No matter what, I couldn't choose one better than my father's.
I took out a dagger and carved the bamboo into a fishing rod.
“You can't blame your equipment later.”
“You're the one who shouldn't.”
“Uncle Hwi, did you hear that? You have to be a fair judge. You can't let Father stretch his fish later!”
Hwi laughed at my words.
He really was the type who would try to use his martial arts to stretch the fish if my father's catch was smaller than mine.
“But Father, aren't you making one?”
My father just watched me as I made the fishing rod.
“You're not planning to catch it with your martial arts, are you? That's not allowed. We have to catch them fair and square with fishing rods.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren't you making one? No matter how much you stare, I'm not making it for you. You have to make it with your own hands. Are you planning to blame the rod later?”
Still, my father didn't budge.
In the end, I threw up my hands.
“I lose. I lose.”
I put down the one I was making and started on my father's fishing rod first.
Of course, I made it with more care and skill than my own.
My father watched me in silence.
Once the rod was complete, I took a fishing line and hook from my baggage to finish it.
And so, two fishing rods were made.
“Here, this is your weapon, Father. Please choose first.”
I dramatically presented the two fishing rods.
“I don't need it.”
My father extended a hand toward the carriage.
Such an ominous gesture!
Then, my father's large leather pouch on the carriage opened, and something flew out toward us.
It was a piece of bamboo, about the length of a man's forearm.
Whoosh.
As my father manipulated the bamboo, it extended like a magic staff.
Surprisingly, it was a fishing rod.
It looked flexible yet sturdy, and it was clear at a glance that it was no ordinary item.
“What is that?”
And then came a surprising name.
“The signature weapon of the Eastern Sea Old Fisher.”
The Eastern Sea Old Fisher was a martial arts master who roamed the Central Plains with a single fishing rod.
And his fishing rod was known to be perfect.
There was even a story that if you could catch a great whale with a fishing rod, it would have to be the Eastern Sea Old Fisher's rod.
“Why do you have that?”
“A long time ago, he lost a duel against me, offered his fishing rod, and left.”
“So you were the one who made him retire?”
"His pride was what made him retire.”
I was moved.
This feeling wasn't because my father defeated the Eastern Sea Old Fisher in his youth.
Nor was it because I was seeing that perfect fishing rod in person.
I was moved by the fact that my father had brought it with him.
Late at night, an image of my father packing that fishing rod from the Heavenly Demon Treasury into his leather pouch came to mind.
As he packed it, he must have thought that he might go fishing with me.
“No, if you had a fishing rod, you should have said so. You just had to tease your son like this.”
Perhaps he enjoyed the sight of his son making a fishing rod for him.
“And the Eastern Sea Old Fisher's fishing rod? This is cheating!”
"Who was it that said not to blame the equipment?"
I stood side by side with my father at the river's edge.
Our fishing competition to catch the biggest fish had begun.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
“You'll smell of fish today, so sleep far away from me.”
“That's what I should be saying to you. I'll endure the smell coming from your body and sleep. As they say, I'll prove that a true artisan doesn't blame his tools.”
It's true, even if you use that, it won't be easy.
Our fishing lines flew over the river water sparkling in the sunlight.
The curve created by the fishing line was more beautiful than any line drawn by any martial art.
As the bait entered the river, gentle ripples spread out, and then all became quiet.
I could hear the gentle sound of the water.
The sound of a water bird flapping its wings was carried on the river breeze.
The surroundings were perfectly quiet and peaceful.
It was my first time fishing with my father.