Of course, for Wang Zhuo, it was merely the final stretch of his academic career; he wasn't getting into university, nor did he have the funds for tuition.
Stepping out of the hospital doors, Wang Zhuo felt a surge of good cheer, even switching the tune he was whistling from his usual Dubeaux’s Song to Triumphant Laughter.
Patting his pocket, his pack of cigarettes was gone—lost at some unknown time. He only had five yuan in cash; the balance on his bank card had long since hit zero. Wang Zhuo sighed dramatically toward the heavens: A hero in decline!
Gurgle, gurgle... His stomach chose that precise moment to betray him with a loud rumble.
“Damn it all,” Wang Zhuo muttered, flicking his hand dismissively and heading toward a street-side convenience store to buy something, anything, to fill the void.
Bread? Instant noodles? A hot dog? Five yuan didn't buy much, and Wang Zhuo was thoroughly sick of all those options. Gloomily staring at the shelves, Wang Zhuo hardened his resolve: he wouldn't eat that junk.
“Boss Lady, give me a room-temperature Tsingtao beer. And one of those Zhongjie Big Ice Creams.”
Two yuan for the Tsingtao, one for the ice cream. After taking Wang Zhuo’s five yuan, the proprietress didn't give change, instead asking with a smile, “You have two yuan left, want to try a Lottoday ticket?”
Only then did Wang Zhuo notice the store also sold lottery tickets. He waved a hand dismissively: “Those swindlers at the Welfare Lottery Center? I’d sooner trust a sow to climb a tree. No thanks, just give me the change.”
The proprietress had no choice but to hand over two yuan, not forgetting to offer a small lesson: “The Double Color Ball is the Welfare Lottery; Lottoday is the Sports Lottery.”
“The General Sports Administration is even dirtier!” Wang Zhuo grumbled, taking the beer the proprietress handed over. Suddenly, several boxes on the counter caught his eye.
Seeing his interest, the proprietress eagerly jumped in: “These are Scratch-Offs. Instant win, instant prize. How about a few? Try your luck!”
The Scratch-Off was the most traditional form of lottery. The ticket was a piece of paper where the winning area was covered by an opaque coating that had to be scraped off to reveal the result. Rumor had it the coating used high-tech processes, rendering it impervious even to professional inspection equipment.
Taking a bite of the Zhongjie Big Ice Cream, Wang Zhuo narrowed his eyes and activated his X-ray vision, focusing on the Scratch-Off tickets. Without the slightest effort, his gaze pierced through the covering—a layer supposedly impenetrable even to the most advanced instruments—and clearly saw the symbols beneath.
Wang Zhuo immediately broke into a wide grin: “Heh, these tickets are interesting.”
“They are, they are! Very popular,” the proprietress nodded repeatedly. “So, want to play a few?”
“Can I pick?” Wang Zhuo stared intently at a box of tickets, each valued at two yuan.
The proprietress burst out laughing: “Of course you can!”
“One first.” Wang Zhuo reached out, pulling a ticket, simultaneously placing his remaining two yuan on the counter.
He scratched the ticket. Just as he had seen when looking through it, this one had won ten yuan. The proprietress checked the ticket and exclaimed repeatedly, “Young man, you have good luck! Want another round?”
“Draw, why wouldn’t I draw?” Wang Zhuo pulled the box closer to himself, shuffling through the tickets. “Five more, I’ll take my time picking.”
In a short while, the Zhongjie Big Ice Cream was gone, and he’d drunk half the beer. Wang Zhuo slowly selected five tickets. Four of them won nothing, but this was intentional—winning every single time would be too conspicuous. The fifth ticket had a modest prize: one hundred yuan.
Wang Zhuo was disappointed to find that this particular box of two-yuan Scratch-Offs offered no larger prizes. Besides the one hundred he'd picked, there was only one fifty-yuan winner left.
But that was fine. There were other game types to try, and with one hundred yuan in hand, he could afford to buy the higher-denomination tickets.
“Which one has the biggest prize?” With one hundred yuan in his pocket, Wang Zhuo adopted a slightly swaggering demeanor.
“This one.” The proprietress pushed forward a gleaming golden box. The single ticket inside was larger than several of the other tickets combined. “The top prize is one million. Young man, if you actually win, don’t complain about the taxes.”
“If I win the lottery, am I afraid of paying taxes?” Wang Zhuo chuckled, looking over the rules, and casually asked, “If I really win a million, how much tax is there?”
The proprietress held up two fingers: “This much.”
Wang Zhuo nodded: “Twenty thousand? Not bad, two percent.”
Just then, a man of astonishing girth happened to walk in from outside. Hearing Wang Zhuo’s words, he immediately let out a booming laugh: “Little brother, that’s two hundred thousand! The remaining eighty is your legal take-home.”
The stout man had a coarse face, a gold chain thick as a finger around his neck, and his slicked-back, wavy hair hung down his back. He held a fat cigar between his fingers and walked over to Wang Zhuo with an air of forced familiarity.
“Two hundred thousand? That’s damn highway robbery!” Wang Zhuo clicked his tongue while already calculating the possibilities of tax evasion.
The stout man seemed to read his mind. “Don’t even think about it. The lottery center withholds the tax automatically. What you receive is the after-tax prize money.”
Wang Zhuo conceded that made sense; the tax bureau wouldn’t leave such a loophole for winners. He selected five tickets and showed them to the proprietress. “Just these.”
“Five tickets, exactly one hundred.” The proprietress counted the tickets and took Wang Zhuo’s hundred yuan. For her, this was already a successful sale—a turnover of one hundred twelve yuan, netting her a tidy profit.
“Here, get me a few tickets!” The stout man, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulled a briefcase from under his arm, took out several slips of paper, and slapped them on the counter. Seeing the beer bottle in Wang Zhuo’s hand, he told the proprietress, “Get me a beer too, Boss Lady—iced!”
Wang Zhuo took a long swig of beer and began scratching the tickets with the wooden stick from his Zhongjie Big Ice Cream. He scratched quickly because he already knew which ones were winners and which were losers.
The stout man leaned against the counter, sipping his beer, watching Wang Zhuo scratch. When he saw Wang Zhuo scratch four blanks in a row, he couldn't help but interject: “I have no respect for you Scratch-Off players. Whether you win or not is pure guesswork, no skill involved whatsoever.”
Wang Zhuo looked up at him and smiled, asking, “The game you play takes skill?”
“Naturally.” The stout man gave a thumbs-up. “I play the number games. You need probability theory; I calculate something for every drawing. There’s a lot to it, more exciting than stocks, endless fun.”
Wang Zhuo was speechless. He had clearly run into a die-hard lottery fanatic. He couldn't help but counter: “Do you know that the drawing results are artificially manipulated?”
“Of course I know that.” The stout man laughed heartily. “What I calculate are the numbers they manipulate the results to show. That’s the real skill. Just knowing probability isn't enough; you need psychology too—to calculate what number the people manipulating the draw will arrange!”
“Impressive, truly impressive.” Wang Zhuo was genuinely convinced. He lowered his head and went back to scratching his tickets, casually remarking, “But I still prefer these instant-win tickets. Even if the winning rate isn't as high as advertised, at least the outcome is physically printed on the ticket face. No one can manipulate that.”
The stout man shook his head repeatedly, about to continue lecturing this obtuse young man, when he saw Wang Zhuo hold up the last ticket he’d just scratched toward the proprietress: “Sister, can this ticket be cashed in?”
The stout man looked over curiously at the ticket in Wang Zhuo’s hand and suddenly froze: “You... you won five thousand?”
“Huh? Won five thousand?” The proprietress stopped messing with the lottery machine and stood up from her keyboard.
“Yeah.” Wang Zhuo feigned calmness, though inside he was ecstatic. With this five thousand yuan, he could temporarily escape the cycle of having one meal and waiting for the next.
Five thousand yuan! Half a year’s living expenses, just earned by looking at it and scratching it! It was his first taste of unearned wealth, and it felt incredibly good, absolutely fantastic!
The fat man stared blankly for a long moment, then gave a wry shake of his head, managing to squeeze out three words: “You’re the man.”
Wang Zhuo deeply agreed with the stout man’s assessment. Right now, he too felt like he was utterly incredible!
The proprietress verified the ticket. It was indeed five thousand. She exclaimed admiringly, “Little brother, your luck is truly blazing!”
“Heh, I think so too.” Wang Zhuo laughed heartily, but his words carried another meaning; his good luck wasn't just the five thousand yuan, but the possession of X-ray vision.
The proprietress’s expression tightened: “This ticket... I might not be able to cash it right now...”
“Not enough cash?” Wang Zhuo had already guessed this possibility.
The proprietress nodded vigorously. “Yes.”
At that moment, the stout man suddenly chimed in: “I have cash here.”
Wang Zhuo was momentarily taken aback, thinking the hefty uncle was trying to buy his winning ticket at a discount. Instead, the man said, “My few tickets totaled three thousand eight hundred yuan. Boss Lady, add that to your cash—that should cover five thousand, right?”
The proprietress suddenly understood and repeatedly agreed: “Enough, more than enough.”
Wang Zhuo thought to himself, So that’s how it is. I judged him by my own petty standards. At the same time, he was secretly amazed; spending three thousand eight hundred yuan on just a few tickets? This fat guy played on a grand scale.
The stout man took out a wad of cash from his bag, counted out three thousand eight on the proprietress’s counter machine, and the proprietress added one thousand two from the till. After verifying the total on the machine, she handed the money to Wang Zhuo.
Five thousand yuan in hand, earned effortlessly. Wang Zhuo bought a mobile phone top-up card, offered his thanks to the stout man, paid for his beer, and left the store.