Chapter 059: Night at the Internet Café

This story is purely fictional.

In the north, the difference between indoor and outdoor temperatures is pronounced. Indoors, it feels like the warmth of spring, but outside, autumn winds sweep through, the air grows colder, grass and leaves fall, and dew turns to frost.

Walking along the street, only a few scattered pedestrians can be seen.

Zhao Ming left the hotel and wandered aimlessly. He was not unfamiliar with the city of Q. When Qu Wenkai was attending the Military Medical University, Zhao Ming had visited during a summer vacation.

Twilight in Q City—lights beginning to glow, the night deepening. The waves stirred up by the wind crashed against the sides of the pier. The sound was much the same as decades ago. Yet time had passed, thirty years flickering by in a blink, and the youth he once was had become a blurred memory. The mountains and rivers remained, thriving, vibrant amidst change. The city’s dreamy silhouette reflected in the shimmering water, stirring endless thoughts and making one reluctant to leave.

Zhao Ming stared at the sea, lost in thought. Behind him, on the street near the pier, several people waited for taxis, waving repeatedly, but the cabs all seemed occupied and did not stop. Perhaps there were too few taxis; even after ten minutes, they continued waving.

Only then did Zhao Ming remember why he’d gone out. His wireless network card’s antenna was broken, and the hotel’s internet speed frustrated his attempts to place bets. So, on this Q City night, he chose to spend it battling in an internet café, hoping to reverse his losing streak.

With this in mind, he hurried toward the internet café.

He saw a taxi approaching from afar and rushed into the street. The cab was empty and stopped in front of him. Zhao Ming opened the door, got in, and closed it behind him. The driver, speaking Mandarin with a Q City accent, asked, “Where would you like to go?”

“Wherever there’s an internet café nearby. Just drop me at the entrance,” Zhao Ming replied in standard Mandarin.

“Alright!” The driver quickly started off.

The cab sped along, but soon, a torrential rain began. The windshield wipers swept furiously, and the driver slowed down. Outside was a swirl of darkness and yellow, the world concealed by rain, then briefly exposed in chaotic hues.

Such a scene left Zhao Ming feeling rather unhappy. But inwardly, he prayed for the blessings of heaven and the gods, hoping to win big on this rainy night.

After half an hour, the driver found an internet café and stopped at its entrance. “We’ve arrived at your internet café. Please gather your belongings and prepare to get out,” the driver said politely.

Zhao Ming cracked the window and saw the rain was still pouring. The driver, understanding his reluctance to step out into the downpour, took an umbrella from beside the driver’s seat, glanced at Zhao Ming, and asked, “Not getting out?” As he spoke, he displayed the umbrella. Zhao Ming quickly replied, “Yes, yes, I’m getting out.”

The driver stepped out, opened the umbrella, and came to the passenger side, holding the umbrella over Zhao Ming as he exited. “Take it slow, I’ll walk you to the entrance.”

“Thank you so much!” Zhao Ming was deeply grateful for the driver’s thoughtful service.

At the internet café’s counter, Zhao Ming presented his ID. “Please assign me a computer.”

The staff glanced at the out-of-town guest and asked, “We have private booths. Would you like one?”

Zhao Ming, learning about the private booths, naturally preferred a quiet space for his betting endeavors. He didn’t want to be distracted by others around him during this precious night.

He purchased a booth card and, as he walked to the booth, slid his wallet into his back pocket and sat down calmly.

This was his second night in Q City.

On the first night, he had accidentally slept until dawn, losing twenty thousand yuan to unclear bets. He regretted it deeply, but the betting site’s negative balance was clearly recorded. Those records, time and again, marked his funds flowing into other pockets, causing him heartbreaking pain, yet he could not give up. He always imagined that someday he would recoup his losses. But repeated failures caught him off guard.

After every loss, he would analyze the reasons, planning to turn things around with his next bet. Yet each time, things went awry.

Countless days had passed, and he dreaded weekends. Whenever the weekend arrived, he would anxiously try to erase the negative balance, and after clearing his debts, begin a new week of betting. This endless cycle of pouring money out left him unable to continue.

On this trip, his intention was to recover his previous losses. The poor start—losing twenty thousand—had shaken his confidence. Now, he only wanted to recoup that loss before considering his next move.

He took a long breath, trying to lift his spirits.

The booth was quiet and comfortable. He took off his coat, set it aside, and turned on the computer.

He quickly opened the Corolla Betting Site and browsed the day’s matches. Seeing so many available games, his heart raced. With a betting limit of one hundred thousand yuan, it probably wouldn’t be enough for a night of fierce action.

Because of the limit, he dared not scatter his bets widely. He only chose familiar teams.

After careful analysis, he decided to focus on the five major leagues of Oceania tonight, supplementing them with bets in the English Championship, Serie B, and Bundesliga 2.

With many matches, he had plenty to choose from. He placed five thousand yuan on each main league game, and one thousand yuan on each minor league game.

After placing his bets, he watched the live scores on the Football Scout website. As the matches unfolded, goal alerts sounded constantly. Each alert made him intensely vigilant, checking whether his chosen teams had scored. Whenever his teams scored, he was ecstatic; when they conceded, he felt mournful. Sometimes he was wildly excited, sometimes he slammed the desk in anger. He rode a rollercoaster of emotions—nervous, thrilled, and frightened. He pulled out a sheet of paper and recorded results and win/loss amounts for each match.

Time passed quickly—the first wave of matches lasted ninety minutes. Some games ended, and he hurried to check the outcomes. Upon seeing the results, he frowned. The situation was mixed; out of nearly twenty matches, he ended up with a positive balance—a profit of eleven thousand yuan.

This result, of course, did not satisfy him. He had hoped to recover the lost twenty thousand in the first round, then go back to sleep contented. But with a nine-thousand yuan gap remaining, he resolved to keep fighting, determined to reach break-even by dawn.

He bought several bottles of coffee drinks at the counter, gulping down two bottles, and felt much more energized.

Shaking his head to clear it, he sought a moment of lucidity to continue the battle. He yearned for a decisive victory to greet the coming dawn.

In the second half of the night, matches kicked off one after another. His bets now disregarded major or minor leagues—any scheduled match sparked his desire to wager. At this moment, Zhao Ming treated every game as a chance to recoup his losses, even betting on English Championship matches. He pressed the confirmation button for each wager, and soon, his fifty thousand yuan betting quota was nearly exhausted. He reserved a little for live betting.

The matches began, and the Football Scout site was lively, goal alerts sounded non-stop, but it seemed fate was playing tricks on him. The teams he favored were silent online, while others scored furiously, none of which helped him.

He sat discouraged, staring at the computer.

He couldn’t understand why it was so hard for his chosen teams to take the lead.

Half an hour passed, and not only had his teams failed to lead, they were scored against. He grew restless, trying to use live betting to hedge his earlier bets. But some deep odds had dropped, making the wagers uneven, so he decided to give up. For some shallow odds, after making a mistake he switched his bets, hoping to recover some losses. In uneven matches, he tried to play the over-under odds.

At this point, Zhao Ming was in disarray, sitting there aimlessly placing bets, endlessly browsing between the betting site and the live score site, sometimes slapping the desk.

As his betting quota dwindled to nothing, he felt a despair unlike any before. Without funds, he was like a soldier without bullets, doomed to die waiting.

His mind raced, searching for a solution.

He didn’t want to alarm anyone because of his losses, so he thought of Yun Jiu.

He called Yun Jiu, but Yun Jiu’s phone was switched off. (To be continued)