Chapter 82: The Accidental Gambling God (2/2)

Feng Biao was locked up in a small room at the back of the game arcade, provided with food and lodging, and treated well.

However, if he didn’t pay up within a day, the consequences would be dire.

With permission, Zhao Qingfeng went to the small room and saw Feng Biao.

Feng Biao was dejectedly eating Babao porridge and was stunned to see Zhao Qingfeng.

Embarrassed to be seen in such a state by his younger relative, he quickly wrapped his arm around Zhao Qingfeng’s shoulder and said, “What are you doing here? Looking for pocket money? Go back home first. I’ll play a few more rounds after eating, and if I win, I’ll give you some money to spend.”

Still planning to play?

Zhao Qingfeng chuckled, “Uncle, my mom told me what happened, and it’s not a big deal. I can handle it for you.”

“But first, you need to tell me why you suddenly started gambling and lost so much at once?”

Losing ten thousand yuan overnight isn’t easy unless the machine is rigged or the luck is extremely bad.

Feng Biao didn’t understand the trickery involved, “Ah, it must have been that batch of pig’s blood that jinxed me. My luck was just too bad.”

“Otherwise, this new fruit machine is usually generous. Little Qiang previously won over three thousand here, so why can’t I, Feng Biao?”

“Where is he?” asked Zhao Qingfeng.

“Who?”

“The little Qiang you mentioned.”

“I don’t know.”

“…”

Zhao Qingfeng remained silent, wanting to say ‘Uncle, you really are bold’!

He remembered Sun Wenqiang’s expression on the way here.

People who smile at everyone are either genuinely kind-hearted or up to no good.

Given Sun Wenqiang’s shifty eyes and cunning smile, he must have had ulterior motives.

It seemed Uncle had fallen into a trap, possibly related to the land issues Shen Kuo mentioned.

Growing up in a village, everyone knows it’s a small society with complex relationships.

There’s no such thing as simplicity, and people can be even more ruthless when it comes to interests.

To verify his thoughts, Zhao Qingfeng quickly left the room and asked the fat boss directly, “Boss, where’s your friend?”

“Who?”

“Sun Wenqiang.”

“…”

After a brief silence, the boss’s demeanor changed slightly but he quickly replied with a smile, “I don’t know him. You got the wrong guy. Wanna play? Buy some tokens.”

Zhao Qingfeng already had his answer.

He spent over ten minutes closely examining the gambling machines.

While the boss was in the restroom, Zhao Qingfeng sneaked a peek inside the machines.

When the boss returned and saw him acting suspicious, he cursed, “What are you doing? If you’re not playing, get lost!”

Zhao Qingfeng responded with a smile, went back to the room to assure his uncle he would get him out tonight, and then turned to leave.

Feng Biao, panicked, stopped him, “Hey, Little Feng, don’t go getting into fights like your uncle. I’m tough because I’m not afraid of death!”

“But you’re still young. Don’t follow in my footsteps with violence. Go back home. I’ll think of something else.”

“Keep being bold!” Zhao Qingfeng left the words behind and left.

Feng Biao tried to follow but was stopped at the door. He shouted, “Little Feng, how can you talk to your uncle like that! Go home, don’t worry about it! Tell your mom I have another way, I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I was just worried she didn’t have the money, I was trying to do a good deed!”

Zhao Qingfeng didn’t look back.

Returning to the residential area, he headed straight to Zhang Yang’s house at Building 4.

He knocked on the door, and a sleepy Zhang Yang appeared, alone at home, “What’s up, Brother Zhao? Want to smash Zhang Wuping’s windows? I knew you couldn’t let it go. Let me get dressed, and we’ll do it tonight.”

Low-level.

That was a childish tactic that wouldn’t solve the root problem. Zhao Qingfeng had a bigger plan.

“Smash windows? Come on, tonight you’re going to be a makeshift gambling god.”

After saying this, Zhao Qingfeng rummaged through Zhang Yang’s house, quickly finding a bunch of electronic components. It seemed something was missing, so he dismantled the TV remote control, which had been covered with a protective film for three years, and started tinkering with it.

“What the hell!”

Zhang Yang was shocked, “Brother Zhao, what are you doing? That protective film on the remote has been there for three years, and you just tore it off? If I get beaten up for this, you owe me a meal!”

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