Eyes That See All

Chapter 3: The Card Room

Zhang Lei left the house at half past six in the evening.

He told his mother he was going to see Lao Zhou about something. Liu Guifen didn't even look up—she was hunched over the lamp, gluing tiny components together, her fingers covered in white 502 Super Glue residue.

"Come home early. Food's in the pot."

Zhang Lei grunted an acknowledgment. Before leaving, he checked the bathroom mirror—nothing unusual about his face, just some red veins in his eyes, probably from the rain and poor sleep. No more nosebleeds. He'd tested the vision a few more times that afternoon, keeping each session under five minutes before shutting it off. No problems.

Five minutes. That seemed to be the safe window for now.

The urban village was at the west end of Binjiang Road, two bus stops from the old factory district. Zhang Lei saved the two-yuan fare and rode his father's rust-bucket bicycle, the one with the chain that kept slipping. The card room was deep inside an alley, behind a glass door with a "Teahouse" sign. Smoke billowed inside. The clatter of mahjong tiles echoed out.

He pushed the door open.

The owner's wife sat behind the counter cracking sunflower seeds and watching a TV drama. She glanced up. "Mahjong or Zha Jinhua?"

"Zha Jinhua."

"Table in the back needs one more. Fifty minimum."

Zhang Lei walked over. The back table had four people around it with one empty seat. Peanuts and tea cups littered the surface—the tea brewed to the color of soy sauce. The four ranged from thirty to fifty years old, all wearing the look of men with nowhere better to be after work. One still had his construction site reflective vest on.

"Need a player?" The man in the vest looked up.

"I'm in." Zhang Lei pulled out the chair and sat.

He fished a stack of bills from his pocket. Counted out ten hundreds and placed them on the table. One thousand yuan. He'd set himself a hard rule—lose this thousand and walk away. No adding more.

Though he didn't think he'd be losing.

First hand dealt.

Zhang Lei picked up his three cards but didn't look at them right away. He activated the vision first.

It was like a switch behind his eyeballs—not a physical one, more like a mental toggle. Focus, and his sight gained an extra channel. The vest guy's three cards across the table: seven of hearts, three of diamonds, jack of spades. Nothing. The bald guy to his left: ace of spades, ace of hearts, nine of diamonds. A pair. The thin man to his right: king of diamonds, king of spades, ten of clubs. Also a pair, better than the bald guy's. The one with glasses diagonal from him: queen of hearts, queen of diamonds, queen of clubs. Three of a kind.

Zhang Lei looked at his own cards. Eight of clubs, six of hearts, four of spades. Garbage. The worst kind of nothing.

He folded.

"I'm out."

Second hand. His cards were mediocre again, but the best hand at the table belonged to the bald guy—a straight. Zhang Lei called two small rounds, estimated the pot size, and folded on the third. The bald guy took the pot. Two hundred yuan.

Zhang Lei was observing. Not the cards—he already had those solved. He was studying the rhythm. How these people bet, when they raised, when they bluffed, what pattern of winning looked like normal "good luck."

Third hand. He drew a pair of kings. Best hand at the table.

Zhang Lei called the first round at fifty. The bald guy raised to a hundred. The thin man called. Glasses and Vest folded.

Second round, Zhang Lei called at a hundred. The bald guy hesitated two seconds, then raised to two hundred. The thin man thought about it, then folded.

Just Zhang Lei and the bald guy.

"Call." Zhang Lei slid two red bills into the pot.

Cards revealed. Bald guy: pair of tens. Zhang Lei: pair of kings.

"Shit." The bald guy slapped the table—not hard, more amused than angry. "Kid's got hot hands tonight."

Zhang Lei gathered the pot. Just over six hundred. His face showed nothing, but his heart ticked two beats faster.

Six hundred yuan. More than a week at the dealership.

Over the next several hands, he deliberately throttled his pace—win one, lose one, win one. Never win every hand; that would draw attention. He kept his bet sizes controlled, never taking too large a pot at once.

The strain was building. After half an hour, his temples began to throb. Zhang Lei realized he needed to conserve—scan the cards once each hand when they were dealt, then switch it off. Don't leave it running.

Rationing it like that, he lasted another forty minutes.

By then he was up roughly eight hundred net. The others' expressions were still normal—after all, there'd been wins and losses mixed in. It just looked like a lucky streak. Nothing outrageous.

Then Zhao Si walked in.

Zhang Lei didn't know the man. Tall and lean, early thirties, wearing a black jacket. Long fingers. Walked with his shoulders slightly forward. He carried a tea cup over from another table, pulled up a chair, and sat down in the empty spot to Zhang Lei's right.

"Deal me in." He lifted his chin toward the owner's wife, then pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and slapped it on the table.

The bald guy glanced up. "Zhao Si's here."

Zhang Lei noticed something: after Zhao Si sat down, everyone else at the table shifted slightly. Vest leaned back. The thin man touched his chips. Not fear exactly. More like... caution.

New hand dealt.

Zhang Lei activated the vision and scanned the table. Bald guy had nothing. Thin man had a pair of fives. Vest had a straight. Glasses had already folded without looking. Then he looked at Zhao Si's cards—

Three cards face-down on the table. But inside Zhao Si's right sleeve, there was a card.

The back of a playing card was pressed against the inside of his forearm, held in place by something adhesive. Zhang Lei could see its face turned toward the skin—ace of spades.

A card hidden up his sleeve.

Zhang Lei blinked and shut off the vision. His temples were throbbing harder now, but he barely registered the pain.

He watched Zhao Si casually gather his three table cards, glance at them with a perfectly blank expression.

At this table, Zhang Lei wasn't the only one cheating.