Chapter 13: Reunion

Returning to the ward once more, Wu Bei’s face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, his expression unbearably grim. Wu Shihao had also put down his newspaper and was sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed, seemingly waiting for him.

The father and son locked eyes for a moment before Wu Bei spoke in a low voice, “You know I served my first year in the reconnaissance company!”

“Old Wei and Old Guo came by today, but I just couldn’t remember in time,” Wu Shihao replied, coughing twice with a forced laugh.

The Old Wei and Old Guo he mentioned were businessmen who used to have a good relationship with him, but since his illness, all contact had been completely severed. Wu Bei had even begged them, but they wouldn’t even answer his calls.

Seeing his father looking like he’d done something wrong, Wu Bei softened his tone and reproached, “Whoever comes, no smoking in the ward. Don’t you care about your lungs?”

Wu Shihao immediately put his hands together in a gesture of promise, “Alright, alright, I got it. You scared me just now—I didn’t even dare to breathe.”

Wu Bei didn’t press further. His father’s mental state fluctuated, and having someone come to visit and chat wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Changing the subject, he asked, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Wu Shihao thought seriously for a few seconds, then tentatively said, “How about crucian carp soup? It’s been a long time since I’ve had any meat.”

Seeing his father’s longing expression, Wu Bei’s heart ached deeply.

Once, this man had been so dignified and proud, but now they even had to discuss what he could eat. Wu Bei felt the weight of failure as a son.

“Alright, I’ll get it for you!” Without hesitation, Wu Bei grabbed the food container by the bedside.

“Xiao Bei...” As he was about to leave, his father suddenly called out.

Wu Bei turned his head in confusion.

The old man’s heavy eyebrows twitched twice, then he forced a faint smile and waved his hand, “It’s nothing.”

After attending to his father’s meal as usual, Wu Bei left the ward and headed to a nearby lottery shop.

The shop was small, only six or seven square meters, but filled with a smoky haze. Men and women with bloodshot eyes stared intensely at the lottery charts pinned on the wall.

When instant wealth becomes a distant dream, perhaps only the lottery can stimulate the dopamine of those at the bottom.

“Here you are, Brother Wu!” A young man with a head full of dyed white hair came out from behind the counter with a bright smile.

Wu Bei nodded and handed over a cigarette, asking, “Brother, did the loan come through yesterday?”

“It’s all ready for you,” the young man said, pulling out a wad of crisp bills and handing them to Wu Bei.

The young man’s name was Qi Jinlong, a hustler who made a cut by exploiting loan apps. He had a wide network and was fairly straightforward. His interest rates for Wu Bei were reasonable. Over the past year, all of Wu Bei’s online loans had been through him.

“Thanks, brother. Take this and buy yourself some cigarettes!” Wu Bei licked his fingers, counted the money, and casually slipped a note into Qi Jinlong’s pocket.

Qi Jinlong didn’t refuse and asked, “How’s the old man’s health lately?”

Wu Bei sighed bitterly, answering all his questions with a heavy heart.

“Getting into a mess like this, even the heavens have no solution,” Qi Jinlong remarked, running his hands through his hair as if suddenly recalling something. He leaned close to Wu Bei and whispered, “By the way, Brother Wu, are you good at debt collection? I know a big boss who’s got over a million in debts floating around. If you can get it back, we’ll split it fifty-fifty!”

Wu Bei’s eyes lit up immediately.

He was desperate for money.

Before coming, Nurse Su Qing had told him that even sending his father to the provincial hospital would require at least seventy or eighty thousand.

“Ka-ching!”

“Are you running a train here?” Just then, the sliding door of the lottery shop was yanked open, and a young man with a head full of dreadlocks strode in.

Wu Bei stared—it was the flashy rich kid who had crashed into Luo Xue’s car at the Caesar Crown casino.

He remembered the kid called himself “Second Brother.”

“Shh, keep your voice down! Come play some slots with me,” Qi Jinlong hurriedly waved him off, then looked half-heartedly at Wu Bei, “Brother Wu, get back to your business. I’ll get back to you later about that thing I mentioned.”

“Running a train” was a type of slot machine and also part of Qi Jinlong’s business. Wu Bei came here often but had never seen anyone win.

The young man clearly recognized Wu Bei and, acting familiar, winked, “Hey, you like this too? Looks like we really are birds of a feather... uh, I mean, kindred spirits. Second Brother’s really taken a liking to you. Come on, let me buy you a few rounds!”

Before he could reach out, Wu Bei deftly dodged, nodded politely, and brushed past him to leave.

“I say! What a character! Second Brother likes you! Leave your contact info!” the young man grinned and chased after him.

Without saying a word, Wu Bei quickly distanced himself.

Years of military life had taught him caution. He never initiated conversations, much less engaged with those who approached him.

He knew better than anyone that in this materialistic world, no one contacts you without a reason.