Chapter 20: Xiao Jin Observes the Market

This story is purely fictional.

Xiao Jin was analyzing the odds on Leng Junfeng's computer. The screen displayed: "Currently, the Winter Melon team is giving a one-goal handicap, with odds of 0.85, while the Shrimp team is at 1.05. Judging from the data, Winter Melon has historically been a strong team. With them giving a goal at low odds—0.85—this could psychologically lead players to believe that Winter Melon winning by at least one goal is highly likely. Shrimp's odds are as high as 1.05, making it seem less probable and thus drawing your attention to Winter Melon. In this way, the bookmaker is deliberately setting a tempting line to lure bets towards Winter Melon. In my opinion, this ploy is quite obvious. There's another reason why I'm so certain, which can help you judge the accuracy of my conclusion."

"What's the other reason? Tell me," asked Leng Junfeng, somewhat impressed by the officer before him.

"The other reason is actually quite simple. Winter Melon, being a historically strong team, giving a one-goal handicap, would make the average bettor—one who doesn't understand the odds system—think that winning by one goal is very likely. They believe that as long as the team wins, at worst they'll break even and their capital is safe. But from what we've seen in so many games, when the odds aren't for knockout matches, how often do we actually see break-even results? The bookmakers make their profits from the juice; they don't want break-even results. So, if you think just winning by one goal means you'll break even, you're making a big mistake. In summary, the likelihood of Winter Melon losing is very high, and the tip we received should be accurate." Xiao Jin turned to look at Leng Junfeng and asked, "What do you think of my analysis? I'm betting on Shrimp."

"How much are you putting down?" Leng Junfeng asked.

"I'm betting 4B on Shrimp, 1B on Under, and for the correct score, 1:0 Shrimp to win, a hundred on that at 30 to 1 odds, for a potential win of six thousand. (B stands for thousand, A for ten thousand.) That’s it!" Xiao Jin reported his bets to Leng Junfeng.

"All right, that's a total of 5,100. The correct score odds are 30, so a hundred pays three thousand—I’ll give you full odds. The handicap and under bets can win five thousand, so if you win everything, let's say eight thousand!" Leng Junfeng replied.

"You really are brave, betting so much on a single game. What if you lose?" Wu Zhengzhe asked in astonishment.

"Well, today I'm betting more because I have inside information. If I win, it's a nice profit; if I lose, it's my own loss—it has nothing to do with you," Xiao Jin replied nonchalantly.

"Oh please, you can't expect me to bet with you, can you?" Zhengzhe responded. "Also, let me tell you, it's fine if you place your bets, but don't go dragging others into it, especially not my friend Chi Zhaoming. From what I've seen, nothing good ever comes to those involved in this sort of thing. That goes for you too. Don't be fooled into thinking your eloquent analysis is foolproof—it could still go wrong. I'm telling you this as a colleague. If you were anyone else, I wouldn't bother."

"Yeah, yeah, what’s all this about things going wrong? With my level of analysis, that’s impossible. Don't jinx me! Don’t go messing up my bets today, all right?" Xiao Jin shrugged him off. "Less talk, more watching the game. Just wait and see how I collect my winnings."

"Fine, I want to see you lose," Zhengzhe shot back, not sparing his dignity. Fortunately, Leng Junfeng said, "Come on, let's all see how Officer Xiao meets his end." At that, the three of them burst into laughter.

The match began, and the two watched intently. In the 17th minute, Ban Modi of the Shrimp team scored a goal—Winter Melon, despite giving a one-goal handicap, actually conceded! Xiao Jin, seeing the goal come so early, exclaimed, "Oh no, with a goal this early, my bets on Under and 1:0 are in danger!"

"Look at the broadcast. Winter Melon isn’t panicking after conceding. But for the sake of appearances, they won't concede easily again, I think. So why are you so anxious?" Leng Junfeng shook his head. "You talk a big game, but Officer Xiao, your nerves don’t seem that strong."

"Boss Leng, I’m a salary earner—I can’t compare to a big boss like you. If I lose today, there goes two months’ wages. Unlike you, losing a few hundred thousand is nothing," Xiao Jin replied, sounding a bit uncertain...

Finally, after 90 minutes, the match ended with Shrimp narrowly beating Winter Melon 1:0. Xiao Jin and Chi Zhaoming had hit the mark with their predictions. Xiao Jin was elated, and Wu Zhengzhe, after watching the fun, got up to leave.

As soon as the match ended, Leng Junfeng did something on his computer and informed Officer Xiao, "Eight thousand has been transferred to your account. Congratulations on your victory!"

"Thank you, thank you!" Xiao Jin was beaming with joy, boasting to Zhengzhe.

"Here’s your lucky money—should have waited until tomorrow, but I’m giving it to you today. Go have some fun!" Leng Junfeng said graciously.

"Then I won’t be polite!" Xiao Jin replied. "Let’s go!"

~~~~~~

Early in the morning, after sending Situ off to the market to buy supplies, Mingyue returned home, climbing the stairs. She trudged wearily through the narrow corridor, about twenty or thirty meters long, its concrete walls gray and indistinct. Every few meters, a dusty incandescent bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a dim yellow light. Outside each apartment door, odds and ends were piled up, with charcoal stoves set near the entrances. In one home, someone was fanning the coals, trying to start a fire. The smoke filled the corridor with the pungent smell of unburned coal.

She opened her door and entered. A small dog bounded over, jumping and pawing at Mingyue as if to please her. The dog, a fine French breed, was named Afa—Mingyue always called him by this name, hoping one day to truly become prosperous.

She shooed the dog away, and it obediently lay down, gazing at her with adoration.

The room was a single space of roughly 20 square meters, with a simple wooden bed in the center. On a low cabinet by the headboard sat a 14-inch black-and-white TV, its screen made hazy by the sunlight from the window. A boy of four or five sat on a small stool, utterly absorbed in the cartoon "Calabash Brothers."

"Up watching TV again instead of sleeping!" Mingyue scolded her son loudly.

He was so engrossed he didn’t even hear her.

She took a jacket and put it on her thinly dressed child. "Up this early watching TV—you’ll catch cold. Do you want a spanking?" The boy didn’t seem to hear, just kept giggling, occasionally mimicking the cartoon’s lines: "Hey! Monster, where do you think you’re running?"

"What? You little rascal, calling me a monster now?" Mingyue questioned him.

He looked at her and said, "I'm not talking about you! Look, the monster's trapped Calabash Brother in a bottle!"

Mingyue glanced at the screen, then smiled and stroked her son's head.

She went to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and took out a bankbook. Seeing the numbers, a faint smile crossed her face. She looked around the cramped room, but remembered her brother-in-law’s recent unemployment—he’d been laid off and couldn’t even keep up with loan payments. She felt guilty occupying the apartment; if she moved out, her brother-in-law could sell the place and solve his urgent problems. But what could she do now?

For four years, she and her husband had brought their son from the countryside to the city, working hard to make a living selling vegetables in the market. Life had finally found some flavor, but now the thought of possibly losing her home again left her despondent. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she watched her happy child.

Dejected, disappointed, she stumbled back into the little room, unable to stop crying until her eyes were raw.

For four years by the Great River, the couple had eked out a living on the market’s fringes. Remembering those hard days, Mingyue could only sigh and shake her head.

That evening, after dinner, Situ took their son out for a stroll. Mingyue called after him, "Take Afa with you for a walk—you haven’t heard him whining?"

"All right, we’re off," Situ replied.

Left with nothing to do, Mingyue sat in a daze on a stool. Suddenly remembering she had work to do, she got up to make pickled vegetables.

She washed the cheap cabbages she’d bought at the market, filling a large plastic basin, and began to season them.

When she was done, she packed the pickles into plastic bottles she’d bought from the market and put them away. Just then, Situ returned with their son and Afa. After the walk, Situ had picked up some bottles and jars from the street as well.

"Bringing back more bottles and jars—do we have room for this stuff? And it’s not very hygienic," Mingyue complained about Situ's habit of collecting junk.

"Look, if this stuff is left on the street, it’s not good for the environment. At least if I bring it home, I can sell it for a bit of money," Situ retorted.

Afa, back from his walk, joyfully bounced over to Mingyue again. Mingyue stroked his fur, and he sat obediently in front of her. "Don’t go risking your life over trash again. Last time, you nearly got hit by a car fetching a can from the road—don’t you remember?"

"Oh my, my wife is really something—hardly went to school but knows who Marx is. Not bad, not bad," Situ teased.

"It’s not just you who knows Marx. Every vegetable seller at the market knows his name," Mingyue replied.

Her words set Situ laughing heartily...

~~~~~~

At the Zhizhen Bar, in Dai Yunjou's office, he was carefully reviewing information about the Great River’s players, determined to familiarize himself with the business and help relieve Gao Yating’s burdens.

Normally, Gao Yating worked late, but since bringing Yunjou on board, she’d been leaving earlier. She came to his office and, seeing him so focused on his work, felt a surge of happiness.

"Still not finished? I’ve been waiting for you," she said with a smile.

"Just a few more things to handle," Yunjou replied, glancing at her.

"Leave it for tomorrow," she said, coming over to take his arm and lead him out.

Arm in arm, they strolled boldly through the lobby, catching the eye of Leng Junfeng, who watched with jealous longing until Gao Yating disappeared from sight.

(To be continued)