Chen Wan could remember cards.
He had broken the four suits apart into fragments. Zhao Shengge had already broken up the opposite player’s straight flush in the previous hand, so Chen Wan would not give him the big joker again.
A dealer remembering cards was not strange. But engraving into his mind all four players’ points each round, their scoring spots, what cards they had taken in the previous rounds, and each person’s playing style—that was a very frightening thing.
But the young masters did not know, nor did they have the intelligence to notice such details. They simply felt that playing at Chen Wan’s table was satisfying.
The dealer surnamed Chen had sharp eyes, steady hands, and a mind running at high speed. He spread favor evenly, keeping the players matched against each other, making them compete and kill their way forward. Whoever won would depend entirely on skill.
For this round, he gave the joker to Young Master Huang.
So when Qin Zhaoting let out that ambiguous laugh, Chen Wan did not know whether it was because of that little joker or whether it was purely a smokescreen.
Unfortunately, Zhao Shengge happened to want a little joker for this round.
Chen Wan could remember cards. Zhao Shengge could count them.
In truth, halfway through the round, he had already worked out from Young Master Huang’s card-chasing and Tian Cheng’s full house that the little joker had to be in Qin Zhaoting’s hand.
Zhao Shengge could have adjusted the order and finished eating up points in advance, but he did not. He drew it out card by card, until that little joker appeared in the prize pool ahead of time, like a suspended sentence.
His hand this round was not good.
But who told him to have a high score?
The MVP from the previous round could draw an extra card.
Zhao Shengge lowered his eyes, focused on the meaningless mess of cards in his hand. Without raising his head, he simply extended his right hand and knocked the back of it against the card table.
A clean, fair hand pushed a face-down card in front of him.
Zhao Shengge turned it over.
It was another little joker.
God did his utmost to maintain fairness, but his heart still inevitably favored someone.
Zhao Shengge raised his eyes and looked straight at Chen Wan. The dealer’s brows and eyes were gentle and benevolent, his manner open and composed. Not a single fault could be picked out.
The card table was noisy, waves rolled over the sea, and the sky had already darkened. Their meeting gazes were direct yet obscure. One second, then they shifted away.
From beginning to end, they had not said a word, yet they had already exchanged a thousand moves in their minds.
Zhao Shengge calculated Chen Wan’s dealing. Chen Wan calculated everyone’s playing.
Zhao Shengge’s hand this round was bad, but he did not mind. Bad hands had their own way of being played. Yet Chen Wan was watertight and would not allow the slightest loss of fairness.
The one dealt a bad hand would be rewarded with a weight on the scale.
That weight was the little joker, proof that Chen Wan had already predicted the play of the cards before the round even began.
A dealer who could calculate base balance, card-turning probability, and predict card order with precision—what annual salary would he earn in Shen Zongnian’s casino?
Starting at a million, probably. Pounds.
Chen Wan must have simulated and calculated it hundreds of times in his mind, narrowing down from hundreds of possibilities to the precise combination and order of appearance of every single card.
And the dealing time was only three minutes. That included shuffling, distributing the cards, and handling the players’ jokes and interruptions.
Even in this kind of situation, he still precisely controlled the difference in win-loss probability to a margin of no more than five percent.
He had underestimated him too much.
Zhao Shengge withdrew his gaze and, expressionless, threw that little joker into the pool, ending the game.
After this hand, Zhao Shengge stopped playing. He thought Chen Wan was watertight, that he was protecting himself by appearing irreproachable. But he could not know that Chen Wan had indeed considered everything—only none of that was the most important reason.
The cards dealt to Zhao Shengge in this round truly could not be called good. They looked large, but in fact were very difficult to connect. So Chen Wan left one little joker.
That hole card was, in truth, Chen Wan himself. If Zhao Shengge needed him, he would find him. If he did not, he would never discover him.
Of course, Chen Wan still hoped Zhao Shengge would never have to use it. He hoped Zhao Shengge’s road would be smooth all the way, and that everything would go well.
The sky darkened completely. Tan Youming had the card table moved into the cabin, and everyone went to the top deck for dinner.
Chen Wan and Zhao Shengge were not at the same table. They barely even met face-to-face.
Even on the same ship, too much lay between them.
The cruise liner was almost an all-night venue. After dinner, the sound of cards and chips continued ringing across the deck.
There were many people, and Chen Wan was the most sought-after dealer. He moved among the various card tables, unhurried and composed, elegant and calm.
When he finally had an intermission, he went out onto the deck to clear his head. Being dealer was no easier than being a gambler. It looked as if the dealer held great power, but in this kind of setting, he certainly could not deal however he pleased.
At a table with players on all four sides, any one of them pulled out at random was someone of consequence. He had to rack his brains to maintain the subtle balance among all parties while also ensuring the game did not become so boring that its outcome could be seen at a glance. Coaxing this group of young masters into pleasure and satisfaction truly consumed the mind.
The sea breeze at night was very comfortable. The heat and restlessness of daytime had all been blown away, and the waves rushed and hissed across the surface of the sea.
His nerves had been stretched too tight. Chen Wan had a slight headache. He lit a cigarette and held it between his lips, staring into space to relax. He did not even notice when someone came to stand behind him.
Chen Wan felt a little awkward at being caught. He immediately took the thin cigarette from his lips and politely gave the other man space.
This was the best viewing platform.
Zhao Shengge glanced at him and did not speak. Chen Wan could neither leave nor stay. He had no desire to deliberately strike up a conversation, but turning around and leaving would also be very impolite.
The person who had handled the gambling table with such ease was suddenly somewhat at a loss. There was no one else around. For a moment, the two of them fell into the awkwardness of staring at each other.
“…”
But the awkwardness belonged to Chen Wan alone. Zhao Shengge was never awkward. He could even be called calm and at ease.
Chen Wan could only smile politely and break the ice. “Mr. Zhao had good luck today.” He should have won quite a lot.
Zhao Shengge did not take up those words. He drew a cigarette from its box and bit it between his lips, watching Chen Wan in slow silence. Behind him was the night sea, and Zhao Shengge’s gaze was darker and deeper than the night sea.
After a while, he suddenly said, “Chen Wan.”
Chen Wan paused slightly.
This was the first time Zhao Shengge had called his name.
Not Mr. Chen.
Chen Wan.
Zhao Shengge tilted his head and said, “I didn’t bring a lighter.”
Chen Wan immediately stubbed out the cigarette in his hand with proper seriousness, took out his lighter, and lit Zhao Shengge’s cigarette with both hands. His posture was respectful, the stance of a subordinate lighting a cigarette for a superior.
Zhao Shengge raised a brow.
Lighting a cigarette was very ambiguous. If it had been any of those people with intentions on an ordinary day, they would long since have leaned close, head to head, lighting one cigarette from another.
Chen Wan was proper from beginning to end.
So another of Zhao Shengge’s tests returned in defeat.
Chen Wan was still waiting there for him, holding the lighter up with one hand and cupping the other around it to block the wind, protecting that dying flame. His gaze was sincere and upright, open and clear.
The deep-blue waves and moonlight shone on his face. His skin was so pale it seemed to glow. His whole person looked like some creature that had swum up from the deep sea.
The way he stood there eagerly holding out that bit of fire for someone made Zhao Shengge think of a fairy-tale book. The Matchstick something-or-other. Zhao Shengge had not read these things when he was a child and did not really remember. In any case, Chen Wan’s whole person carried a kind of desire that shimmered like water, pure and sacred, very easy to pity, and very easy to make one want to ruin him—especially someone like Zhao Shengge, whose mind was not quite normal.
He lowered his head and used the end of his cigarette to touch Chen Wan’s flame.
The distance was very close. So close Chen Wan almost fell into the other man’s dark brows and eyes.
Only then did Chen Wan suddenly realize that Zhao Shengge’s handsomeness carried an extremely powerful impact. It was only concealed on ordinary days by his steady, peaceful exterior.
Chen Wan’s heartbeat surged sharply, reaching an uncontrollable frequency. The seawater and night stars in the center of his eyes all receded like a tide, leaving only Zhao Shengge with lowered eyes.
The culprit remained incomparably calm. All at once, he lifted his eyes. His pupils were ink-black, startling the ripples in Chen Wan’s gaze.
That top-down gaze placed tremendous pressure on a person. Chen Wan’s hand shook almost imperceptibly. Just as the sea breeze was about to blow out the wavering flame, Zhao Shengge suddenly raised a hand and steadied Chen Wan’s hand.
“What are you shaking for?”