yournovel What's there to be nervous about at 022?
What's there to be nervous about at 022?
"More than forty thousand..."
Wang Zhe stroked his chin. If all of these 40,000 yuan were invested in the next Italian bet with high odds, and the winnings quadrupled, it would become over 100,000 yuan.
If this sum of over 100,000 yuan were only spent at one or two lottery outlets, it would definitely cause a sensation. Furthermore, winnings exceeding 10,000 yuan on a single lottery ticket must be claimed at the lottery center, and a 20% personal income tax must be paid.
"To ensure that the winning amount of each lottery ticket is less than 10,000, we need to break it down into even smaller amounts."
Wang Zhe did some mental calculations. If the odds were 4 to 5, then the bet amount on a single lottery ticket couldn't exceed 2,000 yuan. His initial capital of 40,000 yuan would need to be split into at least twenty lottery tickets.
"Looks like this afternoon will be busy; I'll have to find a few more lottery shops..."
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
That night, the night was deep.
Wang Zhe arrived at Jiang Di's house as agreed.
Upon entering, one is immediately struck by the intense atmosphere of watching the game. The coffee table in the living room is laden with snacks such as peanuts, braised chicken feet, and pig's head meat, and the television has been tuned to the sports channel, broadcasting pre-match analysis.
"Wang! You're here!" Uncle Jiang, wearing a white vest and holding a palm-leaf fan, greeted him with a rosy face.
Compared to his previous politeness, he now looked at Wang Zhe as if he were looking at his own father, or rather, as if he were looking at a living golden Buddha.
"Hello, Uncle." Wang Zhe greeted him politely.
Jiang Di was wearing casual loungewear, but her face looked freshly washed, and her ponytail was neatly styled. She stood somewhat shyly to the side, saying, "You're here..."
"Sit down, sit down! The match starts in half an hour, let's grab something to eat first!" Uncle Jiang warmly pressed Wang Zhe to the head seat of the sofa, which was directly in front of the TV.
After Wang Zhe sat down, he found that there were only the three of them in the living room.
"Where's Auntie?" he asked casually.
"She's going to bed," Uncle Jiang waved his hand. "She doesn't understand football and finds it noisy."
Jiang Di leaned over and poured Wang Zhe a glass of cool water, then whispered, "Actually, Mom used to hate it when Dad watched and gambled on football. She would yell at him whenever he watched a game. But recently, Mom suddenly agreed. She even specifically told us before bed to keep our voices down while watching the game so as not to disturb the neighbors, and she told Dad to treat you well."
The girl's warm breath, carrying a hint of shower gel fragrance, gently brushed against Wang Zhe's cheek.
Wang Zhe turned his head, looked into her bright eyes, and chuckled softly, "Of course. Before, it was your dad who lost money, now it's your dad who makes money. Can you say the nature of things is the same? That's what they call the economic base determining the superstructure."
Jiang Di stuck out her tongue: "How realistic..."
"Life is inherently realistic." Wang Zhe took a sip of water.
Just then, Uncle Jiang came over carrying a plate and mysteriously placed it in the center of the coffee table.
"Come, come, look at this!"
It was a beautifully packaged bottle of Honghualang liquor, and judging by the vintage, it must have been quite old.
"This is some fine wine I've been saving for years. I usually can't bear to drink it myself," Uncle Jiang said, skillfully unpacking the wine. "Today we're happy, and it's also to celebrate our upcoming big victory, so we have to have a drink!"
Upon seeing this, Jiang Di immediately frowned: "Dad! Why are you drinking again? And Wang Zhe is still a student, why are you making him drink baijiu!"
Uncle Jiang glared at his daughter: "He's not a child anymore. He's finished his college entrance exams. What's wrong with having a little drink? A real man should know how to drink!"
The girl wanted to say something more, but was silenced by a comment from someone nearby.
"Don't think I don't know you're secretly smoking! I haven't even settled accounts with you yet, and you're already telling me what to do about my drinking?"
Jiang Di: "..."
Her face flushed red instantly. She glanced at Wang Zhe subconsciously, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She immediately fell silent and could only sit down and angrily peel peanuts.
Wang Zhe almost burst out laughing at the sight. This family was really something else. The father gambled on football and was a heavy drinker, the daughter smoked, and the mother was greedy for money.
When Uncle Jiang offered him a wine glass, Wang Zhe shook his head and blocked it with his hand.
"Uncle, I appreciate your kindness, but I really don't drink alcohol."
"Hey, drink less! You can't watch a game without alcohol!" Uncle Jiang advised.
Wang Zhe firmly refused: "Really not. I don't like the feeling of alcohol numbing my brain, and besides, I can barely handle beer, let alone this."
If it were Wang Zhe from his past life, who had to drink until he suffered a stomach hemorrhage due to social obligations, he might have accepted the drink. But in this life, he has the confidence to refuse.
Uncle Jiang paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, not angry at all: "Alright, you've got guts! No wonder you guessed so accurately, it seems you have to stay clear-headed at all times! Well then, I won't force you, I'll drink it myself!"
As he spoke, he poured himself a full glass, took a sip, and looked thoroughly enjoying himself.
Time ticked by, and then the referee blew his whistle on the television, signaling the start of the match.
The atmosphere in the living room instantly became tense.
Although Uncle Jiang was drinking, his eyes were glued to the screen, and he even forgot to fan himself with the palm-leaf fan. A fine layer of sweat even appeared on his forehead.
Jiang Di was also a little uneasy. She quietly tugged at Wang Zhe's sleeve and whispered, "Look at my dad, he seems really nervous..."
"How can you not be nervous?" Wang Zhe glanced at Uncle Jiang's tense back and whispered, "On paper, Italy is weaker than Germany and Italy, so the odds are very high. If he wins this match, his stake can quadruple."
Jiang Di gasped, "What if we lose?"
"If we lose, we'll be back to square one," Wang Zhe shrugged.
"And what about you?" Jiang Di stared at his profile. "Why aren't you nervous at all?"
Wang Zhe turned his head and looked at the girl's worried eyes.
The light from the television screen reflected on his face, creating a play of light and shadow that made his young face appear exceptionally deep.
"I'm nervous too, you just can't tell."
He wasn't nervous at all, because he had read the script.
"Oh my! This German attack is too fierce!" Uncle Jiang suddenly slapped his thigh, startling Jiang Di.
On the screen, the German team launched a fierce attack right from the start, putting the Italian team under immense pressure.
Uncle Jiang picked up his wine glass, his hand trembling slightly, but he couldn't drink it and had to put it down again.
Until the twentieth minute of the match.
Cassano dribbled past Hummels on the left wing and crossed the ball.
Inside the penalty area, the abstract star Balotelli, known for wasting opportunities while contemplating life, suddenly became like a wild beast awakened, overpowering the defenders and smashing the ball into the goal.
"Goal!!!" the commentator roared.
"Holy crap!" Uncle Jiang sprang up from the sofa, throwing his palm-leaf fan all the way to the ceiling. "It's in! It's in!"
He was so excited that his face turned red. He turned around as if to hug something, but when he saw Wang Zhe sitting there, he felt it was inappropriate. So he could only hug the air next to him and punch it a few times.
"Come on! Eat, eat!" Uncle Jiang picked up his wine glass and finally drank it all in one gulp, which was incredibly satisfying.
Wang Zhe calmly picked up a piece of pig's head meat with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth, chewing it with relish.
"Uncle, don't celebrate yet," he pointed to the screen, "the best is yet to come."
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.