Chapter 77: Hongqin Gambling Den

The Hongqin Gambling Den was hidden in a mezzanine within Hongweida Furniture City; it wasn’t like the gambling dens portrayed in movies and TV shows—it was usually small and concealed within large markets, hotels, restaurants, apartment buildings, or even large residential compounds.

Most were sparsely decorated or not decorated at all, since gamblers didn’t care about such things—as long as the games were thrilling and the house could guarantee safety, there would always be customers.

Zhu Haitao was a man of every vice; even the term “five poisons” was insufficient to capture his depravity—he specialized in organizing prostitution but was also an expert in fraud, deception, theft, drug use, and gambling.

Gambling was his greatest passion. Originally, like in the New World, he had merely acted as a middleman (similar to a “diamai zi” in Macau), but watching others play left him itching to join—he eventually stepped in, and once he did, he was hooked; his addiction grew worse until he successfully transformed from a middleman into a gambler himself.

The Hongqin Gambling Den at Hongweida was the one he visited most frequently.

The owner, Ai Hongqin, was a young widow in her early thirties; it was said her husband had been a seasoned gambler, fifteen years her senior, a master of cheating—the legendary “laoqian.”

Ai Hongqin had followed him since she was sixteen or seventeen. In the mid-1990s, rumors spread that the old cheat had been caught red-handed during a gambling match in Diannan and had vanished ever since. Ai Hongqin then moved to Zizhen City, burdened with his massive gambling debts. At that time, Chang Huazhong, recently released from prison, spent his days loitering in mahjong halls, while Ai Hongqin earned her living by playing mahjong. They met several times at the same table and quickly realized they were both “professional players.” They soon became regular partners, gaining fame across Zizhen’s mahjong halls—but also driving away all other players.

During this time, Chang Huazhong wanted to take her elsewhere to run games, but Ai Hongqin, haunted by her late husband’s fate, refused to leave. Meanwhile, Chang Huaqiang’s career was soaring—he acquired the land of a bankrupt enterprise on Qianjin Road and built Hongweida Furniture City. The two used this advantage to open the Hongqin Gambling Den in a mezzanine of the complex, vowing they would never play themselves and would never allow cheating in their establishment.

Gamblers knew both of them well, especially Ai Hongqin’s exceptional skill, and Chang Huazhong’s band of brothers—particularly his elder brother Chang Huaqiang, rumored to have close ties with a high-ranking official in the province. For a time, the Hongqin Gambling Den thrived.

(I’ve devoted so much space to describing the Hongqin Gambling Den because many events in the coming story will revolve around it...)

Gamblers are almost always lecherous—that was Zhu Haitao’s initial understanding when he first became a middleman. He had intended to pursue both gambling and women, but Hehe ... Regardless of whether one was a gambler or a lecher, they all shared one common need—food.

Gamblers had only one requirement when it came to eating: they couldn’t be forced to leave the table. Thus, feeding so many gamblers became an unavoidable task.

Ai Hongqin and Chang Huazhong handled it the same way: hire a chef to cook on-site. Most importantly, this was safer.

Huang Laoliu had been cooking at the Hongqin Gambling Den for three years. His skill rivaled that of the head chef at Zhang Shaojie’s Wanguo Hotel, and he had another excellent trait—he was quiet and never meddled in others’ affairs. That was why Ai Hongqin kept him on.

Huang Laoliu served one or two hundred people daily. These gamblers had no sense of time—they ate when hungry. So Huang Laoliu needed assistants. Ai Hongqin made it clear: “I only recognize you, Huang Laoliu, and I trust you completely—so you choose your own helpers.” The unspoken meaning: if anything goes wrong, I’m holding you responsible.

When gamblers were hungry, they signaled a code boy, who then notified the kitchen. Most gamblers didn’t care what they ate—they left the choice to the code boys, revealing how well the code boys understood their patrons. Of course, code boys weren’t all full-time; anyone could become one, as long as they could bring in gamblers and arrange access to the den.

Once the food was ready, a few designated individuals from the den delivered it—so the kitchen staff never actually saw the gamblers’ faces.

After Gu Changzheng learned basic information about the Hongqin Gambling Den through the Public Security Detachment, he proposed smashing the den in one strike—but the bureau rejected it. They told him Ai Hongqin was no ordinary woman; she was colluding with a black boss from another province, suspected of organizing cross-provincial gambling, with complex connections under investigation by the Public Security Branch. They forbade any action that might alert the suspects.

Zhu Haitao could only be arrested secretly—but the problem was, who knew when he’d finally leave the gambling table?

Fortunately, the officer handling the liaison from the Public Security Detachment was an acquaintance—Jiang Xiaohé, who had led the raid on the New World.

Seeing Gu Changzheng at a loss, Jiang Xiaohé volunteered: “Brother Gu, I’ve got a way to get you close to Zhu Haitao—but what you do after that is up to you.”

Gu Changzheng brightened: “Really? That’s great—what’s your plan?”

Jiang Xiaohé smiled mysteriously and leaned in: “Our detachment has an informant at Hongqin—I can get your man inside.”

Gu Changzheng stared at him in surprise. Before he could speak, Jiang Xiaohé added, a little embarrassed: “But he’s just a low-level code boy—he usually just gives us tips on gambling dens. He can only get one person in, and you’ll need to bring some cash.”

At this, Gu Changzheng understood: Jiang Xiaohé’s informant was a minor code boy who occasionally brought in casual gamblers.

But to catch Zhu Haitao immediately, this was the best option. After weighing the pros and cons, Gu Changzheng nodded: “Alright, thank you, Xiaohé. Arrange it—I’ll send someone with no prior record.”

Soon, Jiang Xiaohé contacted the informant and arranged for the infiltration into the Hongqin Gambling Den.

Gu Changzheng selected Gao Ye, a newly hired officer. He had originally planned to go himself, but feared that some gamblers might recognize him from past arrests.

Gao Ye, however, was not only a newcomer—he also had a distinct look: he didn’t appear like a cop at all, but rather carried the aura of a street-smart outsider. He was perfect for the role.

With the personnel confirmed, Gu Changzheng and Gao Ye, along with several other team members, planned the operation. Everything was ready.

The operation to capture Zhu Haitao in the gambling den was about to begin.