King of Gamblers: Growing from a Student to a Jade King

When someone feels low, helpless, and burdened, it's easy to fall into despair and self-abandonment. I kept telling myself, "Forget it, let it go." But deep down, I couldn't. I simply couldn't resign myself to it.

Suddenly, a pair of boxing gloves was tossed my way. I looked up to see Zhao Kui. He grinned and said, "Come on, Fei."

He beckoned, adopting a boxing stance. I didn't want to fight; I felt drained. But Zhao Kui kept urging, "Come on, Fei. Be a man!"

His insistence and my foul mood left me no choice. I put on the gloves and walked over. "Hit me here," he said, pointing to his chest.

I threw a punch at the spot he indicated, but he sidestepped nimbly, leaving me stumbling forward. Anger flared. Was he mocking me? Gritting my teeth, I aimed a punch at his face, but he ducked and dodged effortlessly.

Undeterred, I kept swinging, fueled by frustration. My punches gradually sped up, but Zhao Kui evaded them all with ease. My irritation mounted. I refused to believe I couldn't land a hit.

As my movements grew faster and more aggressive, Zhao Kui retreated with fluid precision. My fists grazed his shoulders or arms at best, and I couldn't close the gap. He moved with such agility that it seemed impossible to corner him.

Determined, I increased the tempo, forcing him toward a corner. Zhao Kui dodged skillfully, never striking back, until finally, I pushed him against the wall. Anger surging, I unleashed a barrage of punches. He shielded his head, letting me hit his arms. Then I spotted an opening and landed a blow to his abdomen. As he shifted to protect his stomach, his head became vulnerable.

Seizing the moment, I delivered a powerful punch to his face. But he caught my fist mid-air, smirking as he said, "You've found the right approach. Keep going."

His words fueled my determination. Thrilled, I swung at his abdomen again, forcing him to double over. With a swift uppercut, I sent him reeling, his head striking the wall before he collapsed to the floor.

Startled, I leaned over to check on him, but Zhao Kui broke into laughter. I couldn't help but join in, collapsing onto the ground beside him, drenched in sweat. For the first time in days, the weight in my chest felt lighter, as though all my pent-up frustration had finally been released.

"When I was in the army," Zhao Kui began, "I struggled with smaller movements because of my size. My comrades laughed at me, and my squad leader criticized me constantly. Back then, I was so frustrated I didn't even want to train. I fought with my bunkmates—it was miserable. My squad leader took me to the boxing room one day and sparred with me. He dodged every single punch, never hitting back.

"Afterward, he told me, 'Boxing is like life. You must find the right strategy to target your opponent's weaknesses. If you wallow in sadness and negativity, you'll fall apart.'"

I lay there panting, exhausted yet exhilarated. Zhao Kui always knew how to lift my spirits, offering wisdom and support when I needed it most.

He continued, "Our enemies are strong, but it's not that we lack the strength to fight back—we just haven't found the right strategy. They're cunning, so we must corner them. Once they're trapped, every punch, every move will be on our terms. It may take one punch, or three, or even more, but eventually, we'll land a decisive blow."

His words struck a chord. I nodded and said, "Thank you, brother."

Zhao Kui sat up, brushing off the gratitude. "No need for thanks. You're my big brother. Helping you is what I'm supposed to do."

I smiled faintly, letting his words sink in. Instead of dwelling on courtesy, I headed to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, I barely recognized myself. My disheveled beard and haggard face reflected my recent ordeals.

Blaming others was pointless. I had only myself to blame for being careless, for letting my sympathy be exploited. Determined to move forward, I shaved off the beard, showered, and changed into clean, simple clothes. Though plain, they made me feel refreshed, a small step toward regaining my composure.

After tidying up, I learned that Wang Gui had arrived and was now at the hospital. I instructed my men to take good care of him but decided against visiting just yet. I needed time to clear my mind.

Zhao Kui rented a car, and as we drove, he asked, "Where to?"

I gazed out the window and replied, "Let's find Ma Lan first, then head back to Kunming."

Arriving at the jade market, we found Ma Lan inspecting a pair of bracelets crafted from our winning stone. Spotting me, she put them down and teased, "Dressed so sharply—trying to charm my staff, are you?"

I chuckled, glancing at Sang Ling. She met my gaze briefly before turning away. Leaning on the counter beside Ma Lan, I whispered, "I want to take out Skinny Monkey."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Come to my office," she said.

Once inside, she shut the door and perched on her chair. "Why this sudden idea?"

"Don't ask. Will you help me?"

"What do you expect me to do?" Ma Lan replied sharply. "My father despises internal strife. If he finds out I'm involved, I'll suffer too."

"One word: yes or no."

After a pause, she sighed. "Fine. What's the plan?"

I grinned. "I want everything you know about Skinny Monkey. You and Fat Pig Zhu frequent his nightclub. You must know him well."

Ma Lan hesitated before nodding. "Skinny Monkey deals in more than nightclubs—he's into women, drugs, and connections with the Nung Dao underworld. His club, Ruili World, is the city's most upscale venue, attracting high-profile clients."

I listened intently as she recounted details of his operations. With every word, my resolve deepened.