Sweet Nostalgia of the 80s-Chapter 48 - Gambling

”

“High, high, high!

Bet on high!

Trust me, I’m right!”

“Low.

Bet on low.”

The onlookers gave their various suggestions.

An Hao shook her head—it was gambling after all.

In the eighties, even the villages had started gambling in this way.

The more backward a place was, the more it fostered bad customs.

She had always disliked gambling, even hated it intensely.

In the previous generation, her brother An Ping had died because of it.

She could still vividly remember the scene of him being slashed by random knives, the glaring red blood and his agonizing screams that occasionally still haunted her dreams.

Just thinking about it made her shiver.

She turned to leave when suddenly she heard An Ping’s voice drifting over, “I’ll listen to Brother Yufeng, bet on low.”

“Open!” shouted the ne’er-do-well.

A sigh came from the crowd, “What a pity.

If you had bet on high, you could have won a dollar this time.”

“Ah Ah Ah Ah!

Damn my luck!” An Ping reached into his pocket and suddenly realized he didn’t have a single penny left.

He had brought all six dollars An Hao had given him that evening, and had lost it all.

Now he even owed the ne’er-do-well a dollar.

Hearing this, An Hao felt a chill as if plunged into an ice cellar—An Ping was actually starting to learn gambling here.

In her panic, she turned back, pushed through the crowd, and squeezed inside while calling out, “An Ping!”

As there were too many people and the noise was loud, no one heard An Hao’s cries, including An Ping.

Seeing his pocket cleaner than his face left him dumbfounded.

“Money!

Give me the money!” the ne’er-do-well extended his hand to An Ping.

“I don’t have any money.

Look…

Can I owe you a dollar?

I’ll get the money from my family tomorrow and give it to you?” An Ping said to the ne’er-do-well with an embarrassed look on his face.

“No way!

If you don’t have money, why gamble?

Are you joking with me?

So many people are watching; don’t think you can just run off!” the ne’er-do-well grabbed An Ping’s wrist and wouldn’t let him leave.

“Yeah, don’t gamble if you can’t afford to lose,” the crowd remarked.

An Ping’s face turned red with urgency, and turning to the ne’er-do-well, he said, “I’m not saying I won’t give it to you.

I’ll go get the money!”

“Who believes that,” the ne’er-do-well glanced at An Ping, “Your new clothes aren’t too bad.

Take off that jacket, and we’ll call it even.”

An Ping naturally refused; the clothes had cost him two dollars, and without them, he’d have no explanation when returning home.

He looked pleadingly towards Bai Yufeng.

Bai Yufeng pinched the little coin in his pocket, unwilling to part with it, and gestured with his eyes for An Ping to run.

Left with no choice, An Ping feigned agreement, “Okay, I’ll take off my clothes for you.

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Now let me go!”