Chapter 10: Five Hundred and Twenty Thousand Cash

The man's face was like an overproofed white bun, greasy and gleaming, his jowls wobbling constantly; when he opened his mouth, two rows of yellow teeth were exposed. His worn clothes clung tightly to his body, stained with oil spots that had accumulated over countless days.

His tangled hair, dry and wild as straw, stood in chaotic disarray; altogether, he looked the very picture of a slob.

Those around him, upon seeing him, had already begun whispering among themselves—they all recognized this fellow, the notorious bully of the neighborhood.

He idled away his days, never doing any honest work, only fond of petty, immoral schemes to cheat others. At this moment, many secretly worried for the handsome young Daoist priest, thinking that being entangled by this ruffian would bring him great trouble today.

Chen Ye looked at the ruffian, a faint smile on his lips, and said calmly: "Heh, you're testing me, are you?"

"How? Can't figure it out? If you have no such skill, how dare you give others fortune readings? Aren't you harming people?! Today, Grandpa will rid the people of this menace!"

The ruffian shouted loudly, raising his fist as if to strike—but as soon as he lifted it, Chen Ye seized his wrist, which felt as if clamped in an iron vice, utterly immobilized.

Chen Ye's smile didn't fade; he spoke softly to the ruffian: "If you don't believe me, try first. For this first reading, I charge only one cash. If I'm right, you pay me one cash. If I'm wrong, I repay you a hundredfold. How about it?"

The ruffian strained to pull his hand back, only to see a swollen ring already forming around his wrist—he winced in pain. But upon hearing Chen Ye's words, his eyes darted, and he instantly changed his tone: "If you're right, you only take one cash? If you're wrong, you pay me a hundred? Is this true?!"

Chen Ye's expression was firm; he declared loudly: "A word once spoken cannot be recalled, even by four galloping horses."

The ruffian immediately bellowed at the top of his lungs: "Everyone here heard it! This young Daoist Priest said—if he's wrong, he pays me a hundred cash! Fine, then let's see your skill—guess my surname!"

With this shout, the onlookers held their breath, all fearing for Chen Ye—this handsome young priest shouldn't be bullied by this ruffian.

But Chen Ye seemed deaf to the surrounding anxiety; calmly, he said to the ruffian: "Very well. Please write down your birth year, month, day, and hour…"

The ruffian shook his head, refusing: "Why should I tell you my birth details? You never said I had to give them. Fortune-tellers read faces—your eyes are on my face now. If you can't guess, you lose."

At these words, the neighbors grew furious, silently cursing the ruffian for being too cruel—how could one give a fortune reading without birth details? With nothing given, how could he possibly calculate? Though everyone secretly sympathized with Chen Ye, they also secretly hoped to see how the young Daoist Priest would respond.

Chen Ye slightly furrowed his brow, showing a hint of difficulty.

Seeing this, the ruffian grew even more triumphant, shouting louder: "How? Can't figure it out? Then pay up! Don't try to weasel out—I've got a brother in the magistrate's office; even one cash short, he'll peel your skin off!"

Chen Ye sighed lightly, his expression turning solemn; he spoke gravely: "Since you press me so hard, I shall disobey my ancestral master's command and reveal my true skill."

Saying this, Chen Ye pressed his fingers together, murmuring incantations; after a moment, he declared: "Your surname is Wang—am I wrong?"

The ruffian's face turned pale; his eyes bulged as if about to pop out—but in an instant, he shouted again: "Wrong, wrong, wrong… I'm Li! Wood-and-son Li!"

The onlookers burst into a chorus of boos—everyone knew this ruffian's name was Wang Sanqi.

"This Wang bully won't even recognize his own ancestral surname just to win?"

"Pah, can't even lose one cash—what a piece of trash."

"Go tell his father—let Officer Wang beat him to death."

…

Wang Sanqi's face flushed red and white, clearly embarrassed; fearing this would reach his father's ears, he stiffened his neck and reluctantly muttered: "Fine, you're good—I really am surnamed Wang."

Chen Ye smiled silently, extending his right hand.

Amid the crowd's jeers, Wang Sanqi reluctantly pulled out one cash and tossed it at Chen Ye's feet, still taunting: "Hmph, you just got lucky—like a blind cat stumbling on a dead rat. But guessing my surname isn't real skill. Dare you bet again? Same stakes!"

The crowd booed louder, thinking this was blatant bullying.

Chen Ye's face darkened; he said to Wang Sanqi: "I've already read one fortune for you, proving I'm no fraud."

Wang Sanqi refused: "One lucky guess proves nothing! Dare you read my birth details again?! Same stakes!"

Chen Ye stared at the ruffian, his expression icy; he spoke gravely: "It seems you insist on tormenting me. Very well—I'll make you truly convinced today. But the stakes must change."

Wang Sanqi immediately jumped up, yelling: "Change what? We agreed one-to-a-hundred! How can you break your word?!"

Chen Ye, as if exhausted by the ruffian's shamelessness, sneered: "One-to-a-hundred? Fine. But you won't bet one cash. For this reading, you bet two cash. If I lose, I pay you two hundred. Third reading: you bet four cash; if I lose, I pay four hundred. And so on—how many readings you want, I'll match them all—but stakes must double each time. Dare you bet?!"

Wang Sanqi's eyes darted; he thought: Who in the world would be this stupid? I can just pull out a hundred cash—I'll make him read dozens of times! How could he possibly guess every one right? Thinking this, he shouted loudly: "Fine! You said it! There's actually a fool like this! I'll pull out a hundred cash—I'll make you read dozens of times! I don't believe you'll guess every one right! It's a deal—no backing out!"

The onlookers were stunned by Chen Ye's boldness—wasn't this courting death? No matter how skilled, no one could guarantee perfect accuracy every time. Even if he guessed right, what if the ruffian asked questions only he himself knew—and then denied them? This was certain defeat. Everyone held their breath for Chen Ye.

But Wang Sanqi didn't care—he kept pressing: "Enough talk! Guess my birth details! If you can't, you lose!"

Yet Chen Ye, as if foreknowing, replied instantly: "Jia Chen year, seventh month, thirteenth day, Hai hour, fifteen minutes—this year, you are twenty-seven."

Wang Sanqi's eyes widened again—once more, Chen Ye had guessed correctly.

But Wang Sanqi's eyes darted, about to deny it—when someone nearby shouted loudly: "Wang Bully, dare you lie? We'll go tell your father!"

There were always those who loved chaos; Wang Sanqi's reputation was terrible, and everyone waited for him to be humiliated.

Wang Sanqi turned angrily, but couldn't spot who had spoken; he gritted his teeth: "Fine, you guessed right again. But it's only two cash—again!"

Chen Ye extended his hand toward Wang Sanqi: "Then pay me two cash first."

But Wang Sanqi waved his hand, playing the ruffian: "Put it on account. Do you think I'd cheat you out of two cash? Pay me at the end—everything settled together!"

The crowd booed again.

"Disgusting!"

"Can't even lose!"

"Truly shameless!"

…

Wang Sanqi, as if his face were as thick as a city wall, ignored the insults, continuing to Chen Ye: "Next reading: guess how many people are in my household!"

Chen Ye sneered: "Your parents are alive. At nearly thirty, you still live in a shabby hut, can't find a wife, and spend your days mooching meals at your elder brother's home. Should I say your household has one person—or include your parents and brother and sister-in-law?"

At these words, the crowd applauded enthusiastically.

Wang Sanqi's household was exactly as Chen Ye described—not a single detail wrong; this young Daoist Priest was truly uncannily accurate.

Wang Sanqi, stung, flushed crimson but refused to yield; he gritted his teeth and asked again: "Then guess the color of my dog!"

"You can't even feed yourself—you don't own a dog."

"Which way does my door face?!"

"West."

"What kind of door?!"

"Willow wood."

"What wine do I usually drink?!"

"When times are good, I drink fine Jade Ice Brew; when times are tight, I steal whatever I can find to drink."

"You ox-nose dare slander me?!"

"Heh."

"I will write a character on my palm; you guess what it is."

"You wrote the character 'Wang', but your thumb was stained with ink, ready to add a stroke after I said 'Wang' to turn it into 'Yu'."

The two went back and forth like this; no matter how tricky Wang Wang Sanqi's questions were, Chen Ye answered instantly, as if he had truly calculated everything.

Wang Wang Sanqi seemed blinded by his losses and was about to continue gambling, but Chen Ye said to him: "Wang Wang Sanqi, you have already lost eighteen times. You owe me five hundred twenty-four thousand, two hundred eighty-seven cash. Including the one cash you have already paid, you still owe me five hundred twenty-four thousand, two hundred eighty-six cash. Let's round it up; you owe me five hundred twenty thousand cash. Do you still want to continue gambling?"