The game resumed. I didn't rush to make a move.
I simply played the usual way, following the natural flow of the tiles.
Maybe Huajie and the man across from her thought of me and Sister Mei as clueless suckers.
Their signaling grew more frequent, their gestures bolder.
As a result, it didn't take long before Sister Mei lost another ten thousand yuan.
I occasionally won a few rounds, just enough to keep my own losses within a couple of thousand.
Time passed, and the night grew late. The end of the game was near.
For the final round, Sister Mei was the dealer.
Before she could even roll the dice, Huajie spoke up:
"I've got to get to work after this, so don't say I didn't give you a chance on this last hand. Go big if you want, Huajie can afford it…"
She struck a generous pose.
I knew—the moment had come.
Time for me to act.
But tonight, I wasn't playing to win for myself—I was going to let Sister Mei win.
I had a good impression of her. When I first arrived at Tianxiang, I was stationed at the front desk for the men's bath area.
Because I never smiled, a drunk customer once complained about my attitude.
By the rules, I should've been fired.
But Sister Mei showed mercy and transferred me to the back to distribute supplies.
That, in a way, gave me a chance to survive.
And now—it was time to repay the favor.
Sister Mei rolled a seven and was set to draw from my wall.
Before she reached, I nudged the stack slightly forward.
A completely ordinary move on a mahjong table.
But within that mundane motion—lay hidden mastery.
In the motion of pushing, I swiftly palmed the pre-arranged set of all-Pairs from one suit and, in the same motion, placed them into the exact positions she would draw from.
That way, every tile Sister Mei picked up would be part of a "Pure Suit Pairs" hand.
This move is known in the world of cheats as "Shifting Mountains and Moving Ridges"—
An art of swapping tiles right under people's noses, as if performed by ghosts or spirits.
Even if Sister Mei had rolled to draw from another player's wall, I could've still executed the same technique to ensure she got at least four pairs of matching tiles.
When all tiles had been drawn, it was Sister Mei's turn to play.
But she just sat there, staring at her hand in disbelief.
For a while, she didn't move.
"Aren't you going to play? Don't tell me you've lost so badly you forgot how to play!"
Huajie puffed a cigarette and jiggled her cleavage impatiently.
The man across chimed in with a grin:
"Hey, Miss Sumei, what's on your mind? Thinking about a man or something? Play your damn tile."
Sister Mei slowly lifted her head and glanced at me.
Then she turned to Huajie.
Before she could speak, Huajie cut her off:
"What are you looking at me for? Do I have mahjong tiles on my face? Play already!"
Sister Mei still wore an expression of disbelief.
Looking at Huajie, she spoke in a hushed, almost stunned tone:
"I… I won. Heaven Draw. Pure Suit. Seven Pairs. No terminals…"
A Heaven Draw—that's when the dealer wins immediately after drawing, without a single discard.
Its odds are astronomically low. Some say about 1 in 330,000.
And to top it off, it was a Pure Suit, Seven Pairs, and No Terminals or Honors.
That made the odds even more absurd.
Yet that's exactly what Sister Mei claimed.
"Don't mess with me. Heaven Draw? More like bedpan draw…"
Huajie and the man laughed it off, thinking she was joking.
But Sister Mei slowly revealed her hand—
Seven perfect pairs of Dot tiles. All low numbers. No terminals. No honors. Clean as could be.
"Impossible!"
Both of them gasped in unison.
They leaned in, inspecting every tile, as if trying to prove their eyes wrong.
But no matter how they looked, the tiles didn't lie.
Pure Suit. Seven Pairs. Heaven Draw. 32 fans.
Here, a Heaven Draw counts as 168 fans. Some places give 108 or 32—depends on regional rules.
So: 32 + 168 + 2 (for No Terminals) = 202 fans.
Which meant: each of them owed Sister Mei 20,200 yuan.
She had lost over twenty grand that night, and now not only won it all back—she profited another 20k.
That's not even counting the two grand they owed for my wins.
Their faces darkened.
After cheating all afternoon, they ended up deep in the red.
Suddenly, Huajie turned to me, her eyes blazing:
"You little virgin—what's going on between you and Sumei, huh?"
My heart skipped a beat.
Did she find out?
What gave me away?
Had I underestimated her?
Could she have spotted my swap?
But that shouldn't be possible…
Shifting Mountains relies on one thing—speed.
At my peak, Sixth Master once said my speed was among the top few he'd ever seen.
Even he wouldn't notice it unless he was watching for it.
"What could possibly be going on between us?"
Sister Mei interjected quickly.
Huajie rolled her eyes, letting out a cold snort.
"Hmph! I think you two do have something going on. Sumei, did you screw this little virgin or what? Why else would your luck shoot through the roof as soon as he sat down?"
When I heard that, the knot in my chest finally loosened.
She didn't suspect the truth—she just thought we were sleeping together.
Sister Mei didn't take it seriously either and continued:
"I've played mahjong for years, and this is my first time hitting a Heaven Draw. A Pure Suit Seven Pairs Heaven Draw, no less. I still can't believe it happened…"
Huajie gave a dismissive "Tch," but still paid up.
Sister Mei continued as dealer.
This time, I didn't help her too much—just a regular All Pairs win.
Over the next few hands, she won a few more, not big hands, but enough to rake in another eight or nine thousand.
The game ended with Huajie grumbling non-stop.
Not only did they lose all their winnings, they each walked away down more than ten grand.
Once they left, it was just Sister Mei and me in the office.
I stood up and placed the leftover few thousand on the table in front of her.
"Sorry, Sister Mei—I still lost you three thousand… not even counting that Heaven Draw round."
Sister Mei didn't look at the money. Didn't say a word.
She just stared at me—up and down.
In her gaze, I saw curiosity. And something like… confusion.
After a while, she suddenly asked:
"Chuliu, how long have you been working at Tianxiang?"
"Half a year."
"You don't seem to smile. Ever."
I stayed silent.
Watching my father die in front of me, limbs severed…
Living under someone else's roof, abused and beaten…
Not even knowing where my own mother is—
I truly don't know what in this world could ever make me smile.
Seeing I didn't respond, Sister Mei asked again:
"How have I treated you?"
"Pretty well."
I answered truthfully.
"Then if I ask you something—will you answer honestly?"
"Go ahead."
"Have you… kai shi er?"
I froze, looking up at her.
In northern underworld slang, "kai shi er" is code.
It means—Do you know gambling tricks? Are you a cheat?
I always thought Sister Mei was just a bathhouse manager, a casual mahjong player.
I never expected her to drop underworld lingo like that.
Could she be one of us too?
But she didn't look like it…
I shook my head.
"Sister Mei… I don't know what you mean."
She smiled.