Chapter 448: Why Do You Have That, Father?

TL: FoodieMonster007

It was all a setup. The skilled gambler, the shills mixed in with the bettors to build up the atmosphere, and even the tout who brought us here were all on the same side. Everyone else was a person who had already lost their money or was about to.

"Alright, guess which bowl has the die, and I'll give you three times your bet!"

The gambler was a short, middle-aged man, but his gaze was as sharp as any martial artist's.

Father asked me, "Do you have any money?"

"You don't have any?"

Father nodded. "I have no reason to carry it around."

True. When would the Heavenly Demon ever need to pull out a wallet?

I couldn't just pass up this precious opportunity to tease my father. "If you lost me and Uncle Hwi, you wouldn't even be able to buy a meal. You'd have to either dine and dash or pawn that sword of yours."

Just imagining my father in such a situation was amusing.

"If you're done teasing, money." Father held out his hand.

I took out a taels from my wallet and handed it to him. "Bet carefully! In this game, that man is a sword god and the God of War. His hands are faster than our eyes."

Of course, he couldn't fool my father's eyes. I was just saying it for the swindlers to hear.

"Alright, I'll start shuffling now." The man opened each bowl to show they were empty, then placed the die he was holding into one of them.

He opened it. Closed it. Sent it here, sent it there. His hand movements were not too fast, which paradoxically made them more confusing and suspicious. Finally, the man's hands stopped.

"Now, where will you place your bet?"

Father placed a taels in front of the middle bowl.

Wasn't this probably the first time in his life my father had gambled on the street?

"Anyone else want to bet? Then I'll open it."

When the man opened the middle bowl, the die was there. The hand was not faster than the eye.

"You have good eyes." The gambler seemed relaxed.

Was that confidence because he hadn't used his real skills yet? Or was it a strategy to let you win a little at first, only to eventually clean you out?

The tout also came over and needlessly praised my father. "Martial artist, you truly have sharp eyes."

Father didn't even look at him. What held my father's interest right now were those three white bowls.

"Alright, here we go again!" The gambler shuffled the die again. The die moved dazzlingly between the bowls.

This time, my father chose the one on the right.

"Anyone else betting?"

Again, my father was the only one who bet. When he opened the bowl my father had chosen, the die was there. As he guessed correctly in a row, the onlookers let out low gasps of admiration.

Father's third choice. He guessed the bowl with the die again.

It was then that I saw it. The gambler's slightly flustered expression. He had clearly tried to guide his opponent to choose a different bowl, but it hadn't worked.

At the same time, I also saw the pleasant smile on my father's lips. He was enjoying playing along with these guys.

"Father! You've won three times in a row."

The onlookers also began to show genuine interest. The gambler shuffled the die again. This time, his hand movements were even more cautious.

"He got it right again!"

At that, the crowd cheered in admiration. These weren't the shills, but the real spectators. From the tout to the shills, they all looked clearly flustered. It was probably because the gambler didn't usually let anyone guess correctly four times in a row.

While quick glances were exchanged between them, the die was shuffled again. On the fifth round, other people followed my father's lead.

Father guessed correctly again. Applause erupted from all around. Now, even passersby gathered to watch.

All eyes were on my father. Having only ever received gazes filled with respect and fear, had he ever been watched by a market crowd full of anticipation? Of course not. These people would never have been able to get this close.

"Alright, shuffle again!"

Father was purely enjoying himself. If he had any ill will toward them, he wouldn't have kept betting only one taels at a time. Or he could have made them suffer a much greater loss.

What if he let them win ten taels, then twenty, and then put down a thousand-nyang note? What if they happily accepted the bet, and he guessed correctly then? The problem wouldn't be losing the money, but the fact that trying not to pay up would cost them their lives.

However, my father didn't do that. He just kept betting one taels at a time.

When he guessed the sixth one correctly, the crowd cheered. By the time he got the seventh, the gambler's expression had completely stiffened.

Finally, the tout came over and suggested subtly, "Excuse me, how about we stop now?"

Father looked at him. I wondered what he was thinking as he looked at these people. I couldn't know for sure, but it was clear he hadn't started this to torment them. He was literally just having a bit of fun because it looked interesting.

"Alright." Father gave me the money he had won so far. "Let's have dinner with this."

"With this much money, we could enjoy a feast."

Just then, the gambler proposed, "How about one more round, betting all the money you've won today?"

The tout, startled, went up to him and whispered something. It seemed like he was telling him not to get excited and to just end it, but the gambler didn't listen.

Would my father ever refuse such a situation?

"Shuffle."

Given the circumstances, wouldn't the gambler use his trump card? A trick that could never lose.

Three overturned bowls. Father chose the middle one. Since all the money he'd won so far was on the line, the amount was quite large.

Seeing the gambler's confident expression, it was certain the die wasn't in the middle bowl.

"Alright, I'll open it now."

The moment the man opened the middle bowl, his eyes flew wide open. The die was there, in the spot that should have been empty. Even his final trick hadn't worked.

Not only the gambler, but the tout and the spectators were all shocked. They probably never imagined he would guess correctly even on the very last round. The crowd cheered.

"As expected! Father is the best!" I said to the gambler. "Now, hand over the money."

For a moment, the gambler was speechless, as if his soul had left him.

"Please wait a moment."

The tout's eyes darted back and forth. The moment they decided they were reluctant to pay, their fates would be sealed.

Finally, the gambler took the money from his wallet and handed it over. "Here you are."

This gambler had lost the bet for money, but he had won the bet for his life.

"How on earth did you do that?"

Father replied as he took the money. "Have you ever taught your skills to others? It's the same for me."

I laughed out loud at my father's answer. It was the first time I had ever seen him say something like that to a gambler. However, the surprises didn't end there.

Father returned half of the winnings to the gambler.

"Why are you giving half of it back?"

To the gambler's question, my father answered quietly, "Sometimes, there will be people you should send away by giving them their money back. When that time comes, give them half and let them go."

In that moment, the look in my father's eyes changed. It was no longer the soft gaze he had when playing with the swindlers. It was a heavy gaze that a mere gambler could not withstand.

The moment he saw that gaze, the gambler's head bowed instinctively. "I will be sure to keep that promise!"

Leaving him with his head bowed low, we started walking again.

"That was amazing."

"Amazing? He won't keep his promise anyway." Father didn't believe the gambler's promise.

"He will."

"He might keep it once or twice. But even so, he'll eventually forget the fear of this moment."

Father fundamentally didn't trust people. It was even less likely he would trust a street gambler.

You're right, Father. Perhaps that's true. But he might also keep that promise for the rest of his life. You say that because you don't know how terrifying your gaze is.

"Then why did you give him a chance?"

After a brief pause, my father answered, "Because I'm in a good mood today."

The moment I heard those words, I stopped in my tracks.

Could his mood be as good as mine right now? As good as mine, seeing him this happy for the first time? As good as mine, hearing him express that feeling to me?

"Since I won the money, I'll buy dinner."

"Why don't we buy that dinner and eat it in the carriage on our way?"

Father looked at me, then nodded. He understood my meaning.

The gambler had conceded gracefully, but the tout might regret the lost money and send thugs after us at night. Besides, he had seen that our wallet was thick. And if we got rid of those guys, someone else behind them would come after us. Then, what the Strategist had worried about might happen.

We might get unavoidably caught up in things while traveling, but not now. Our journey is only on its second day. Father, no matter how much fate tries to draw you in, we can just avoid it first.

The next day, we were riding in a carriage toward Shaanxi. Father had his eyes quietly closed, and I was looking at the scenery outside. As I watched the wildflowers blooming along the river, I suddenly asked my father a question.

"Father, are you good at fishing?"

Father nodded with his eyes still closed. His expression was confident, as if to say, 'Is there anything I can't do?'

"How about a fish dish for dinner tonight? Let's make a bet on who catches the bigger fish. The loser has to do everything from gutting and cooking the fish to, ah, cleaning up afterward. You can forfeit if you're not confident."

With his eyes still closed, my father said to Hwi, "Stop the carriage by the river."

Father was a man who had left his worries behind at Headquarters.

Hwi stopped the carriage by the riverbank.

"What's the biggest fish you've ever caught, Father?"

Then, a surprising fish was mentioned by my father. "The Shiny Scale Fisherman."

It was a spirit beast fish from the legends. It was probably bigger than a person.

"Does it really exist?"

"I caught it and even consumed its inner core."

"Ah! I can't beat the Shiny Scale Fisherman."

I might lose in terms of size, but I will win in terms of rarity. The 10000 Year Fire Carp. The ultimate king of spirit beast fish. Of course, I can't catch it now. The 10000 Year Fire Carp can only be obtained at the place and time where I acquired it in the future.

"I'm quite the fisherman myself."

It's no joke. I really searched the waters until my body felt like it would burst, just to catch that damn 10000 Year Fire Carp.

"Alright, let's start by making the fishing rods."

I used my movement arts to look around for bamboo. I cut down the best one I could find. I cut two, one for my father as well.

"Which bamboo will you choose?"

"You choose first."

"Acting so relaxed. I, for one, won't be going easy on you."

However, contrary to my words, I chose the less suitable of the two bamboo stalks. No matter what, I couldn't choose a better one than my father's. I took out a dagger and carved the bamboo to make a fishing rod.

"You can't blame your equipment later."

"You'd better not do that either."

"Uncle Hwi, did you hear that? You have to be a fair judge. You can't let my father stretch his fish later!"

Hwi laughed at my words. He really was the type who would try to use his martial arts to stretch the fish if the one my father caught was smaller than mine.

"But Father, aren't you making one?" Father just watched me make the fishing rod.

"You're not planning to catch one with your martial arts, are you? That's not allowed. We have to catch them fair and square with a fishing rod."

"I know."

"Then why aren't you making one? No matter how you look at me, I'm not making it for you. You have to make it with your own hands. Are you planning to blame the rod later?"

Still, my father didn't move an inch. In the end, I threw up my hands.

"I lose. I've lost."

I set down the one I was making and started on my father's rod first. Of course, I made it with more care and skill than my own. Father silently watched me do so.

Once the rod was complete, I took a fishing line and hook from my luggage to finish the job. And so, two fishing rods were made.

"Here, Father, is your weapon. Please choose first." I dramatically presented the two fishing rods.

"Not needed."

Father extended his hand toward the carriage. What an ominous gesture!

At that, my father's large leather pouch on the carriage opened. Something shot out from inside, flying toward us. It was a piece of bamboo, about the length of an adult's forearm.

SHWOOOSH.

As my father manipulated the bamboo, it lengthened like a wish-fulfilling staff. Surprisingly, it was a fishing rod. It looked flexible yet sturdy, and it was clearly no ordinary item at a single glance.

"What is that?"

Then came a surprising name. "The East Sea Fisherman's unique weapon."

The East Sea Fisherman was a murim master who roamed the Central Plains with a single fishing rod. And his rod was known to be perfect. There was even a saying that if you could catch a great whale with a fishing rod, it would have to be the one belonging to the East Sea Fisherman.

"Why do you have that, Father?"

"He lost a duel against me long ago, offered his fishing rod, and left."

"So you were the one who made him retire?"

"It was his own pride that made him retire."

I was moved. This feeling wasn't because my father had defeated the East Sea Fisherman in his youth. Nor was it because I was seeing that perfect fishing rod in person. I was moved by the fact that my father had brought it with him.

An image of my father, late at night, packing that fishing rod from the Heavenly Demon Vault into his leather pouch came to mind. While packing it, he must have thought that he might end up fishing with me.

"No, if you had a fishing rod, you should have said so. You just had to tease your son like this." Perhaps he enjoyed the sight of his son making a fishing rod for him. "And the fishing rod of the East Sea Fisherman? This is cheating!"

"Who was it that said we shouldn't blame our equipment?"

I stood side by side with my father on the riverbank. Our fishing competition to catch the biggest fish had begun.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

"You'll reek of fish today, so sleep far away from me."

"That's my line. I'll endure the smell coming from you and sleep. I'll prove that a true master doesn't blame his tools."

It's true, it won't be easy for you even with that rod.

Our fishing lines flew over the river water, sparkling in the sunlight. The curve drawn by the fishing lines was more beautiful than any line created by martial arts. As the bait entered the river, gentle ripples spread out before it became calm again.

The gentle sound of water could be heard. The sound of a water bird flapping its wings was carried on the river breeze. The surroundings were utterly quiet and peaceful.

It was my first time fishing with my father.