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

Sang Ling was a woman of high intelligence and emotional acuity. But why had she involved herself with the Second Island Factory? One word—gambling.

A woman who gambles is a woman who has lost her essence. No matter how educated or beautiful she may be, gambling corrodes her to the core. Gambling with cards and gambling on jade stones are fundamentally different—one is illegal.

I watched as Sang Ling walked out, followed closely by a man. She turned, pointing at him, and shouted, "I'm warning you! Stop following me. We're done!"

After her outburst, she hurried to my car, got in, and started crying. "That bastard!" she sobbed. "He dared to demand money from me, claiming it was compensation for his emotional suffering. What a scoundrel!"

I glanced at the man standing by the roadside. He looked frustrated and regretful, but I noticed something peculiar—the money pouch was still on the café table. If he were truly after money, he wouldn't have left it behind.

I chuckled lightly and said, "Shall I go teach him a lesson?"

"No!" Sang Ling grabbed my arm immediately. I looked at her, and she quickly realized she had overreacted. "Zhao Fei, don't get into a fight for me, okay?" she pleaded.

I glanced at the man outside, who was staring at me with a resentful gaze—like a man who had lost his love but was powerless to reclaim her. Ignoring him, I said, "Let's go to the Jade City."

Sang Ling looked at me curiously. "Zhao Fei, why are we going there?"

"Don't you need to work?" I replied.

Sang Ling hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "I don't want to work under Boss Ma anymore. She's harsh and humiliates me. I know you have a good relationship with her, and I don't want to make things awkward for you."

Hearing this, I put my arm around her and said, "Right now, I still rely on her. Once I win some money, I'll buy you a big villa."

Sang Ling nodded reluctantly, then asked, "Zhao Fei, are you really that skilled in jade betting? I heard Boss Ma say the stone you picked was worth a fortune."

"Not really," I replied nonchalantly. "Just luck. Women shouldn't pry too much into men's matters."

She gave an awkward smile and fell silent. The rest of the drive was quiet until we reached Jade City. I led her to the counter. When Ma Lan saw us arrive together, she immediately frowned.

"Are you kidding me? Coming to work dressed like that? Trying to outshine me? Damn it! Get lost if you're not serious. Don't make my place look like a damn brothel!" she snarled at Sang Ling.

Sang Ling stood frozen, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at me for help. I said, "Sang Ling, go change into something more appropriate. That outfit really isn't suitable for work."

My words seemed to shock her. Ignoring her reaction, I put my arm around Ma Lan and said, "Let's go upstairs. I need to talk to you."

Ma Lan raised an eyebrow. "Are you two involved? Coming here together, huh? Had fun last night, did you?"

I replied loudly, "No. Just a fling. Don't be mad. Let's go upstairs; I have something to tell you."

I spoke deliberately loudly so Sang Ling could hear. Once upstairs, I locked the door.

"What's going on?" Ma Lan asked suspiciously, folding her arms.

"Nothing," I replied, but she saw through me.

"You're up to something," she said.

"Sang Ling," I muttered. "I think she's lying to me."

"Of course, she is!" Ma Lan snapped. "Look at the way she flirts around! She's a gold digger, desperate to snag a rich guy. And you fell for it. Idiot."

"Then why do you keep her employed if you hate her so much?" I asked.

"Because she's a Columbia University graduate, you idiot! I barely finished grade school. Having someone like her working for me gives me bragging rights. I can rub it in my sister's face. 'Columbia grad? So what? I've got one under my thumb!'"

"Your sister went to Columbia too?"

"Yeah. Big deal. She works for me anyway."

I pondered her words. Could it be that Sang Ling and Ma Qing, who I'd heard about before, were classmates? Why would Sang Ling settle for working here? What was she hiding?

Later that evening, Yang Rui, Sang Ling's supposed ex-fiancé, was brought before me. His defiance intrigued me. When I confronted him, his story unraveled a tangled web of betrayal, loans, and shattered dreams.

It was then that I realized: Sang Ling wasn't the victim. She was the one deceiving me.

Yang Rui's defiance was palpable, his jaw clenched as he glared at me. His glasses reflected the dim light of the bar, framing eyes that brimmed with a mixture of anger and heartbreak.

"You're saying she told you I gambled away her savings, borrowed in her name, and left her drowning in debt?" His voice trembled, but his gaze remained unwavering.

I nodded, watching his reaction closely.

For a moment, he stared at the ground, as if searching for words. Then, without warning, he broke down, sobbing like a child. The sound of his grief was raw and jarring, filling the room with an uncomfortable tension. Even my men, who had seen and done far worse, were momentarily at a loss.

"Ten years!" he choked out, his voice cracking. "I stood by her for ten years. From our university days to our time abroad, I gave her everything—my time, my money, my love. We were engaged. I bought us a home, our future. And what did she do? She sold it all, left me with nothing but debts and questions."

His confession painted a picture far different from the one Sang Ling had drawn.

"I gave up everything for her!" he continued, his fists pounding the ground. "And she—she made me the villain in her story, didn't she? The gambler, the addict, the failure."

I remained silent, processing his words. Something in his grief rang true. His clothes, his demeanor, even his hands—clean, meticulous, untouched by the habits of a gambler or a drug addict—all contradicted Sang Ling's claims.

"Fly, what if he's telling the truth?" Wang Gui murmured beside me. "He doesn't look like a junkie or a gambler to me."

I studied Yang Rui carefully. His eyes met mine, filled with desperation. "I loved her," he said softly. "I would've done anything for her. But she's not the woman you think she is."

If what he said was true, then Sang Ling wasn't just deceiving him—she was deceiving me too.

"Take him out," I ordered Wang Gui. "No rough stuff. Just let him go."

Yang Rui didn't resist. As they led him away, I sat back in my chair, my mind racing. If Sang Ling had lied about him, what else was she hiding?

I needed answers, but I knew one thing for sure: if she had betrayed me, there would be no forgiveness.

By the time I returned to the bar, night had fully descended. The dim lights and soft hum of music did little to ease the growing tension in my chest.

When Sang Ling arrived later, her face lit up with a hesitant smile. "Zhao Fei," she greeted, her voice as soft and sweet as ever.

But this time, I didn't smile back.

"Let's talk," I said, gesturing toward a quieter corner.

Her smile faltered, but she nodded, following me.

As we sat down, I leaned in, my voice low but firm. "Sang Ling, tell me the truth. Who are you really?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in her gaze—fear.

Sang Ling's hands trembled slightly as she fumbled to maintain her composure. Her eyes darted around, as though searching for an escape.

"Zhao Fei," she began, her voice wavering, "what are you talking about? Of course, you know who I am."

I leaned back, studying her carefully. Her charm had always been her greatest weapon—a disarming smile, a carefully calculated vulnerability that drew people in. But tonight, I wasn't falling for it.

"Don't play games with me," I said coldly. "I spoke to him—Yang Rui. He told me everything."

Her expression froze for a fraction of a second, a crack in her facade that she quickly tried to cover with a forced laugh. "You believe that liar over me? Zhao Fei, you don't know what kind of person he is. He ruined my life! He—"

"Enough!" My voice cut through her excuses like a blade. "I don't want more lies. If you have any respect for me at all, tell me the truth."

Her face paled, and for a moment, I thought she might actually confess. But then she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Zhao Fei, you don't understand. He's manipulating you. He's—"

"Stop," I interrupted, my tone icy. "I don't need to understand anything except this: you lied to me. You made me believe he was a gambler, an addict, that he destroyed your life. But the truth is, you're the one who betrayed him. You sold the home he bought for you. You dragged him into debt. And now, you're using me."

Her eyes filled with tears, but this time, they felt hollow, like a performance rehearsed to perfection.

"I did it for us!" she cried, reaching for my hand. "Zhao Fei, I needed the money to escape him, to build a life with you. Don't you see? I love you!"

I pulled my hand away, disgusted. "Love? If you can betray someone who stood by you for ten years, what makes you think I'd believe in your love?"

Her tears fell freely now, her voice trembling with desperation. "Zhao Fei, please… I'm not perfect, but I've been through so much. Can't you forgive me? Can't we move past this?"

I stood up, my gaze hard. "Sang Ling, I don't forgive betrayal. Not from anyone."

Her sobs filled the silence as I walked away, leaving her alone in the dimly lit corner.

By the time I returned to the bar, the weight of my decision pressed heavily on my chest. Betrayal had a way of leaving scars, and tonight, I knew I had closed a door that could never be reopened.

As I poured myself a drink, Wang Gui approached, his expression curious. "What now, Fly?"

I swirled the glass in my hand, the amber liquid catching the light. "We move on," I said simply. "But we don't forget."

Outside, the city pulsed with life, oblivious to the storm that had just passed. But in my world, trust was a fragile currency, and tonight, Sang Ling had spent hers.