The dealer began to shake the dice cup.
One hand pressed down on the lid, the other supporting the base—yet that supporting hand was already preparing to pull off a subtle sleight of hand.
In the world of gambling, every dealer worth his salt knew a few tricks. And cheating? It was practically a prerequisite for any seasoned gambler. For a dealer, the bar was even higher.
What this dealer didn't know, however, was that sitting across from him was a young man flanked by two very dangerous individuals—one of whom, the silver-haired elder, was none other than a legendary cheat from the northern province of Yan. As for Qiao Wei, while not a specialist in sleight of hand, his level of mastery placed him firmly in the realm of grandmasters—his eyes sharper than any hawk's.
The moment the dealer began his trickery, both Qiao Wei and Uncle Li spotted the ruse simultaneously.
Meanwhile, the Third Young Master didn't even glance at the dealer. Every time the dice were shaken, he tilted his head back and stared intently at the ceiling, as though studying the paint for divine wisdom.
Of course, his hands didn't stay idle. They were persistently pestering the girl standing next to him—Li Xiaoye.
And his excuse? Always the same:
"Huh? Why are my hands dirty again? Tsk, better wipe them clean…"
Li Xiaoye flushed crimson, her body stiffening as the Third Young Master brazenly took advantage of her. She dared not resist out loud. Her adoptive father now stood firmly on the young master's side, and without *Shan backing her, her only recourse was passive resistance.
Every time his hand slid onto her thigh, she responded with a glare that could kill, her eyes seething with silent accusations—part fury, part shame, and wholly helpless.
But the Third Young Master? His face was carved from stone, immune to her icy glares. He wore a solemn expression, eyes brimming with sincerity—as though what he was doing was nothing short of a sacred mission.
"Young Master has a cleanliness obsession," he explained earnestly. "A speck of dust on my hands must be wiped immediately. What can I do? This gaming table's been touched by who knows how many people. I'm betting real silver here—how can I gamble with dirty hands?"
Li Xiaoye now understood his shamelessness on a deeper level. Earlier that morning, she'd briefly softened toward him after hearing his poignant, soulful singing. But now? His actions stripped away any illusion.
"This man is utterly incorrigible!" she seethed inwardly. "His mind is filled with nothing but... women's bodies! Ah! How could I think such dirty thoughts? I'm a good girl. But still... that damn pervert deserves a thunderbolt to the head!"
Blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, the Third Young Master finally withdrew his hand from her supple thigh when the dealer finished shaking the cup, turning to pick up his silver notes.
"What's the play this time?" he asked Qiao Wei and Uncle Li.
Qiao Wei smirked coldly. "Doesn't matter. Whatever you bet—it won't hit."
Uncle Li chuckled darkly. "Third Young Master, perhaps it's time to spend a bit of silver… buying someone a new pair of hands."
Catching their meaning, the Third Young Master glanced at the dealer, who was now drenched in cold sweat, face pale, his hands trembling under the pressure of two murderous stares.
The Third Young Master chuckled and said leisurely, "Running a gambling den isn't easy. Let's not push too hard—no need to destroy someone's livelihood."
Qiao Wei blinked in surprise. "Well, well. Since when did you become such a benevolent soul?"
Uncle Li sneered. "Spare someone? That doesn't sound like something you'd do, Third Young Master."
The young master rose with a laugh. "The Qin family runs gambling houses too. In our biggest casino, whenever someone wins more than two hundred thousand taels, our people will start 'adjusting the odds' a little. We've only won twenty thousand here, but other gamblers followed our lead and made off with another ten. This little place probably can't cover such losses. As fellow businessmen, let's show some mercy. Come, Brother Wei, Uncle Li—let's cash out and grab a good meal!"
Qiao Wei muttered under his breath, "Funny… you never showed mercy to those flower-thieving bastards. Business rivals are enemies, but these folks get a pass?"
Uncle Li added with a scoff, "If someone tried to cheat under my nose, I'd break their hands at the very least. Third Young Master, you're being exceptionally generous today."
He hadn't even lowered his voice, and the dealer visibly flinched upon hearing it, his gaze filled with dread.
All around the table, the other gamblers exploded with rage.
"Son of a bitch! Cheating?! No wonder I lost every damn round! Thank this gentleman here—I just broke even thanks to him! Bastard, we ought to kill him!"
The crowd surged. Enraged gamblers jumped onto the table, raining fists, chairs, and silver bars down upon the hapless dealer. Others joined in with makeshift weapons—stools, shoes, daggers, broadswords, even butcher knives.
The Third Young Master, Li Xiaoye, Qiao Wei, and Uncle Li slipped away in the chaos.
Behind them, the screams of the dealer echoed across the casino. Security rushed in, trying to defuse the situation, but none dared lay a hand on the customers. The dealer had cheated first—if they killed him, the guards would still have no excuse to intervene.
For a casino, getting caught cheating was a death sentence. It didn't just cost them silver—it cost them their name.
As they walked, the Third Young Master fanned himself lazily. "Uncle Li, your move was brutal. That casino just lost half its clientele."
Uncle Li grinned. "You open a den, you better be ready for the big fish. If you can't take a loss and get caught cheating, you've got no one to blame but yourself. Don't tell me you feel bad for them, Third Young Master."
The young master chuckled. "You know me—'I don't trouble others unless they trouble me. But if they do... I don't let them walk away.' Has anyone who ever tried to cross me lived to brag about it? That dealer tried to play me. Letting him get beat up is a lesson. Running a casino but can't afford to lose? What a joke. I already spared him—if someone else beats him to death, that's hardly my fault. Now come on, let's trade in our chips and blow every tael we just won!"
They swaggered over to the cashier and turned in their chips for exactly 24,000 taels.
Just as they were about to leave, the burly guard who had first guided them to the dice table rushed over, bowing and grinning obsequiously.
"Gentlemen, please wait. Our boss just heard about your astounding skill and would like to personally challenge you to a match."
The Third Young Master waved him off. "Forget it. I've won enough today. Your dealer's getting stomped half to death—go see if he's still breathing."
The guard grinned. "Oh, he's just trash. Deserves to be chopped up. Our guests deserve justice. But sir, our boss insists—if you walk away now, you might regret it."
The Third Young Master's smile vanished. "What was that? Are you threatening me?"
The guard replied with a calm face, "Not at all. Those were my boss's words, not mine. If you've got a problem, take it up with her."
Qiao Wei sneered, stepping forward. "You're really throwing your boss under the bus? Not worried she'll have your hide?"
The guard smirked. "Our boss is far above such petty things. Besides, unless you go tattling to her, how would she know I said anything disrespectful?"
Qiao Wei squinted, scanning the man from head to toe. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "Third Young Master, shall we accept their little invitation?"
The Third Young Master frowned. "Brother Wei, gambling is all about knowing when to quit. We've won—let's not push our luck."
Qiao Wei replied cryptically, "Exactly. Not just gambling—life itself follows that rule. But Third Young Master, this isn't the time to quit. Not yet. There are battles ahead… and we can't afford to take a single step back."
The Third Young Master stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Alright. Just this once, I'll follow your lead. But you two better take the wheel—I don't know the first thing about real gambling."
Both men nodded. "You just say the word, we'll make it happen."
Turning to the guard, the young master said, "Lead the way."
"Right this way, sirs…" the guard beamed, bowing low.
But as he turned, Qiao Wei stepped forward and gently patted the man's shoulder, leaning in to whisper:
"Your 'Phantom Cloud Step'—from the Mysterious Cloud Sect, yes? You've still got a long way to go. That little hitch in your walk gives it away."
The man's body tensed visibly, but he forced a smile. "I don't follow, sir."
Qiao Wei grinned. "Oh, don't mind me. I don't speak unless my master does. Lead on."
As they ascended the stairs to the second floor, Uncle Li leaned over to Qiao Wei and muttered, "Old Qiao… wasn't that a bit much for some junior punk?"
Qiao Wei smiled darkly. "I hate it when people play games in front of me."
Two sly foxes whispered in the back while the Third Young Master and the others followed the guard into the lavish, almost obscenely luxurious VIP chamber.
The moment the Third Young Master stepped through the door, he froze.
It was as if lightning struck him.
His body trembled—and he stood there, dumbfounded…