Chapter 32: Accompanying the Boss into the Casino

Having already anticipated the outcome, Jiang Fan returned to the factory to pack his belongings. In his dormitory, there were three sets of clothes and two pairs of sneakers that Hao Meng had bought for him, as well as clothes gifted by Li Jiuguan, who couldn't even bear to wear them himself. To Jiang Fan, these items were not only valuable but also carried the weight of kindness and gratitude.

He was unaware that taking belongings out of the factory required a clearance slip. After packing, as he walked toward the factory gate, the security guard nervously approached him, saying, "Assistant Manager Jiang, where are you going?"

"One should know their place. After beating up those bastards, I'm leaving on my own accord," Jiang Fan replied, not taking his anger out on the guard who was only doing his duty.

"What? You’re leaving after just two days here?"

Jiang Fan turned to see Deputy Director Tang standing behind him.

He knew that Deputy Director Tang was second only to Chen Anlong in the factory hierarchy. Because of the vast difference in their positions, they had only met face to face twice, without even exchanging pleasantries.

During his brief days at the factory, Jiang Fan had observed that those with a bit of power enjoyed bullying others, and the higher-ups from Taiwan kept their noses in the air, looking down on mainland workers as if they were beneath notice.

Leaving the factory meant that these haughty people would no longer have authority over him. So when Deputy Director Tang suddenly called out to him, Jiang Fan showed no warmth. "If I don't leave, am I supposed to wait for you all to throw me out?"

Deputy Director Tang ignored the anger in his words and continued, "It was just a minor incident—who said you had to go? As the one in charge of security, how could I not know if you were being dismissed? If you’re feeling upset, take a break outside for a while. I’ll explain things to General Manager Chen."

Not sure if Jiang Fan would be willing to stay, Deputy Director Tang then turned to a security guard at the gate, saying, "Help Assistant Manager Jiang take his luggage back to the dorm. Nobody is to gossip about what happened at noon—understood?"

Though he seemed to be addressing the guard, Deputy Director Tang was in fact indirectly telling Jiang Fan that the incident was over and the factory would not pursue it.

Jiang Fan, though disillusioned with factory life and harboring resentment toward Chen Anlong, had nowhere else to go at the moment. Hearing Deputy Director Tang’s words, he took the opportunity to hand his luggage to the guard, left the factory, and once again made his way to the dumpling restaurant.

Kind-hearted Uncle Qiu, having learned from Ah Zhen’s younger sister about her situation, felt sympathy for her, especially since she had been brought by Jiang Fan. After discussing with Aunt Qiu, they decided to let Ah Zhen’s sister temporarily help out at the restaurant for a monthly wage of one hundred and twenty yuan, until she found other work.

But there was still the issue of accommodation. The elderly couple was discussing making up a bed for her in the restaurant at night when Jiang Fan returned.

After hearing their arrangement, Jiang Fan felt deeply grateful. He hesitated for a while, then handed the key to his rented room to Ah Zhen’s sister, indicating his own place. "I don't know if I'll rent it again next month, but you can stay there for the next twenty days or so."

Jiang Fan hesitated because sometimes Hao Meng would come by, and he also liked the idea of sharing a bed with her for the long term.

He wasn’t sure why Deputy Director Tang had tried to keep him. Jiang Fan knew he was in the wrong for causing trouble at noon, but he understood the limits. Near six o’clock, just before the factory’s shift ended, he returned.

Worried that Ah Zhen might be anxious about her sister, Jiang Fan sought her out in the canteen during dinner, telling her where her sister was so she could rest easy.

Hearing that Jiang Fan had arranged work and even a temporary place to stay for her sister, Ah Zhen thanked him again and again.

What Jiang Fan didn’t know was that after he hit the team leader—whom he once regarded as nothing more than a lackey for the bosses and deeply resented—the other workers now looked at him with a new sense of camaraderie.

He didn’t want to get close to Chen Anlong, but duty called, so after dinner, Jiang Fan returned to the dormitory.

Before seven o’clock, he received an internal call from Chen Anlong, telling him to get ready—they would be going to Zhangmutou at eight.

“The sun must have risen in the west. That bastard actually called me himself today,” Jiang Fan mused in surprise after he hung up the phone. Normally, Chen Anlong would have his secretary call Jiang Fan for instructions, but this time he had called personally.

As an assistant, Jiang Fan couldn’t keep the boss waiting, so he was at the factory gate before eight.

Since Jiang Fan couldn’t drive, an extra driver was always arranged whenever Chen Anlong went out.

On the way to Zhangmutou, Chen Anlong said nothing to Jiang Fan, nor did he mention the fight. Despite the incident causing a stir throughout the factory, he acted as if he knew nothing about it.

Jiang Fan assumed it was another drinking engagement, but to his surprise, the car stopped at a fork in the road a few miles outside Zhangmutou town, where another vehicle was already waiting.

They followed the waiting car to a newly built three-story house in Shixin Village.

This time, Chen Anlong told the driver to wait outside and beckoned Jiang Fan to follow him, led by an escort into a room on the second floor.

The second floor, over a hundred square meters, had only one room. Inside, around a long, rectangular gambling table over two meters long and more than a meter wide, fifty or sixty people were crowded.

On the table was a large semicircle, evenly marked with the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. On the flat side of the semicircle sat a dealer responsible for shuffling cards.

Seven or eight people were seated on the other three sides of the table, each with stacks of cash piled high in front of them. Behind every player, people crammed together, each gripping a wad of cash, their voices blending into a chaotic din.

The game being played was “Three Cards.” Some shouted the cards they needed, others echoed the points already revealed.

The man who brought Chen Anlong and Jiang Fan inside entered the room and shouted loudly, “Boss Chen, introduced by Boss Zhang from Humen, has arrived! Make room for the boss.”

A bald man in his fifties picked up over a dozen bundles of cash from the table and stood up. “Come, take my seat. I’ve won a bit today—better to quit while I’m ahead, or I’ll just lose it all again.”

Jiang Fan’s knowledge of gambling dens came from Chow Yun-fat’s film “God of Gamblers”; seeing so much money in person was a first.

Chen Anlong sat down, called Jiang Fan to stand behind him, then pulled out five large bundles of cash from the shoulder bag he carried. With an air of swagger, he set them on the table. Each bundle was a hundred thousand yuan, straight from the bank and still sealed.

Seeing him bring so much money, Jiang Fan thought again of Dafeng’s unpaid wages to its workers and cursed internally, “Lose every penny, you bastard.”

At first, Chen Anlong was something of a gentleman, placing bets of three or five thousand. After a few wins, he generously tipped the dealer two hundred yuan.

The dealer responded politely, “Thank you for the tip, boss. May you win big tonight.”

But the dealer’s words brought him no luck. After the flattery, Chen Anlong lost several hands in a row.

After a string of losses, he began to raise his bets from a few thousand to ten thousand each time, tossing a whole stack of cash on the table with every hand.

In this stretch, losses far outweighed wins. After half an hour, only one large bundle of cash remained in front of him.

The banker’s pile neared a million, and he was about to step down.

Though Chen Anlong wasn’t short of money, losing four hundred thousand in such a short time left him anxious. Hearing the banker was stepping down, he immediately stood and said, “I’ll take the bank.”

To take the bank meant to play against everyone at the table.

The dealer, having pocketed a tip, showed no favoritism, adopting a businesslike tone without room for negotiation: “Boss Chen, the minimum to take the bank is two hundred thousand. You’ll have to show your money before you can take the seat.”

Chen Anlong rolled up his sleeves and replied with bravado, “I’ve got more cash in my car. Let me take a hundred thousand from the house first. Once the game’s over, I’ll settle up—I wouldn’t shortchange you for this kind of money.”