The weapon by the pillow

Chapter 90 Husband's Finger Bone

Sitting opposite Fang Jie, Cheng Tan felt like he was playing cards with a system.

When everything started, the pace slowed down.

The game was going very slowly.

Fangjie plays cards cautiously, agonizing over each move. General Manager Zhao, on the other hand, is more casual, often making unexpected plays. Director Sun is taciturn, but his moves are methodical, clearly indicating he's a seasoned mahjong player.

There are advantages to going slowly... Cheng Tan quickly grasped the rhythm of the game thanks to his calculation skills.

I just want to set the tone!

He quickly constructed a probability model in his mind, calculated the probability of each card appearing, and speculated on the card types in the hands of the other three people.

This is his specialty—simplifying complex problems into mathematical models and finding optimal solutions.

On the eighth round, Cheng Tan's hand was ready to win, waiting for the three, six, and nine of bamboo. He drew a four of bamboo. It wasn't the tile he needed, but it was safe to discard.

Just as he was about to play four of a kind, Sister Fang suddenly spoke up: "Little Han, how long have you been married?"

Cheng Tan paused for a moment, then replied, "Three years."

"Three years..." Fangjie said thoughtfully, "That's the adjustment period. Have you ever argued?"

Cheng Tan knew that she and Cheng Jing were pretending to be husband and wife... This was a very personal question, and Cheng Tan didn't know why she asked it.

He was momentarily at a loss for words. He glanced back at Cheng Jing, who shook her head slightly, signaling him to answer cautiously.

"We argue occasionally, but we make up quickly," Cheng Tan said softly.

"That's great." Sister Fang printed out a 70,000 yuan note. "My husband and I were married for twenty years, and we argued for twenty years. In the end, he died, and I realized that without someone to argue with, life was even more lonely."

Mr. Zhao laughed: "Sister Fang, are you missing Old Chen? If Old Chen were alive, he would be very pleased to know that you miss him so much."

Director Sun also spoke, his voice a little hoarse: "Old Chen was a good man. It's a pity he left us too soon."

Fang smiled but didn't reply. Her gaze fell on her hands, her fingers gently stroking a sieve.

Cheng Tan's heart skipped a beat. Oh my god, could this be her husband's bone?

With that in mind, Cheng Tan played four cards.

"Pong!" Boss Zhao shouted immediately. He picked up the four of bamboo that Cheng Tan had played and combined it with his own two four of bamboo to form a set. "Sorry, Xiao Han, I'll take this card."

Cheng Tan nodded and continued drawing cards. The game entered a stalemate in the next few rounds.

No one won, and everyone played cautiously to avoid giving away points.

On the fourteenth round, Cheng Tan drew a six of bamboo. He was overjoyed—he had won! But instead of immediately discarding his tiles, he glanced at Fang Jie. Fang Jie's expression was calm, but her fingers were trembling slightly.

She's nervous. Why is she nervous?

Cheng Tan glanced at his hand again. He had a six of bamboo tiles, but the score was low, only one point. If he won by self-draw, he could get an extra point. But he had a feeling that if he won now, he might miss some important information.

He decided not to play a winning hand. He played a safe card – East Wind.

"A kong!" Fang Jie suddenly exclaimed. She took out three East Wind tiles and added them to the one Cheng Tan had played, forming a kong. Then she picked up a kong tile from the end of the wall, glanced at it, and a smile appeared on her lips.

She put the card into her hand and then played a nine of bamboo.

Cheng Tan's heart skipped a beat. Nine of Bamboo was one of the tiles he could win with.

But he still didn't move.

He was waiting, waiting for a signal.

In the next two rounds, Cheng Tan drew two useless cards in a row, which he played safely. Fang Jie, on the other hand, drew good cards in a row, and her hand was clearly developing into a strong hand.

On the seventeenth turn, after drawing her card, Fang Jie pondered for a long time. Her fingers tapped lightly on the card surface, the rhythm very slow, like some kind of Morse code. Cheng Tan noticed this detail and listened carefully to the rhythm.

Short, short, long, short, short...

This was not an unconscious action.

This is a conscious signal. But to whom is the signal meant? To Cheng Tan? Or to the others in the room?

Fangjie eventually played a five of bamboo.

"Hu." Director Sun said calmly, pushing over his hand. "Pure suit, concealed hand, self-draw plus winning on the kong, a total of six points."

Cheng Tan looked at Director Sun's hand—it was all of the same suit, from one to nine of the same suit, forming multiple sequences and triplets, indeed a very strong hand.

The first round ended, and Director Sun won a lot of money.

When the scores were tallied, Sister Fang remained calm. She took out an elegant wallet, counted out a stack of banknotes, and handed them to Director Sun. General Manager Zhao also paid. Cheng Tan, being the only one who didn't win, lost the least.

"Director Sun is still as sharp as ever," Sister Fang said with a smile. "He played his hand beautifully."

Director Sun pushed up his glasses: "Just lucky."

Before the second round began, a waitress came in to change the tea. It was a young girl in a cheongsam, who moved very quietly. After changing the tea, she didn't leave immediately but stood behind Sister Fang, seemingly waiting for instructions.

Fangjie waved her hand, and the girl bowed and withdrew.

Cheng Jing noticed this detail. The girl's eyes were wary; she wasn't an ordinary waitress. Her posture and movements revealed signs of training. Moreover, there were calluses on the web of her right hand—marks left from long-term gun handling.

This teahouse is no ordinary place, Cheng Jing thought. It might be more than just a place to play cards.

The second game begins.

This time, Cheng Tan decided to change his strategy. He stopped pursuing winning hands and began to observe. He observed everyone's micro-expressions, small movements, and playing habits. He was collecting data to build a more complete model.

When Fangjie plays mahjong, her left hand is always under the table. This posture is strange because people who play mahjong usually keep both hands on the table for easy handling and arranging of tiles. Cheng Tan tried to observe from different angles and finally discovered that Fangjie's left hand wasn't resting, but rather operating something—a small electronic device hidden under the table.

Was she cheating? Cheng Tan wondered. But if she was cheating, why did she lose the first game?

Cheng Tan began to pay attention to the order in which Fang Jie played her cards. He noticed that before each card was drawn, Fang Jie would move her left hand under the table. The cards she drew were usually the ones she needed or safe cards.

This wasn't luck. It was some kind of technology—perhaps using electronic devices to sense the cards or control the order in which the mahjong machine played the tiles. Upon closer inspection, Cheng Tan realized he was overthinking it; the woman kept touching the die…maybe it was her husband's finger bone die!

Good heavens! What kind of hobby is this!

But why did she let Director Sun win such a big hand in the first round?

Was he deliberately losing money? Or did he have some other motive?

On the sixth round, Cheng Tan's hand was terrible, with almost no chance of forming a winning hand. He decided to concede this round and focus on observing. He played a dangerous card—a 70,000.

"Hu," Fangjie said, pushing over her hand. "A standard win, one point."

Cheng Tan paid the money. He didn't lose by much, but he gained an important piece of information—Sister Fang was indeed controlling the game in some way. She could choose when to win and whose hand to win against.

The second round ended quickly, with Fangjie winning by a narrow margin.

Before the third round began, Sister Fang looked at Cheng Tan and Cheng Jing: "How did you get used to the first two rounds? Starting from this round, the loser has to leave a souvenir or a story. Are you ready?"

Cheng Tan stared intently at the finger bone die and nodded: "I... am ready."