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In late autumn, the air in Wuhan gradually turned cooler, and people began to wear thicker clothes. Yang Qianfan had recently been getting along well with Li Lingfei, and their relationship was rapidly heating up, much like tropical plants growing at an astonishing rate. On a Sunday morning, a thick layer of fog enveloped the world outside, making it resemble a giant bathhouse. People walked through the misty streets as if they were in a sauna. At this moment, Yang Qianfan was still in bed, hesitating over whether to stretch his left arm out from under the covers first or his right arm, as if this decision had become one of the most challenging moments of his life. He lifted his head slightly to glance at the clock hanging from the beam and mumbled to himself, "It's still early, just eleven-thirty. I’ll sleep a bit longer and get up at one o'clock for good luck." With that thought, he buried his head back into the infinitely warm blankets until the strong sunlight around noon finally dispersed the lingering fog, prompting him to slowly get out of bed.
Not long after getting up, he received a call from his friend Zhang Ming, who invited him over in the afternoon to play mahjong. The mere mention of mahjong made Yang Qianfan's blood boil with excitement; he immediately agreed to come over in the afternoon.
It had been quite a while since Yang Qianfan had played mahjong, and during this time, he had developed a longing for it akin to a drought yearning for rain. Zhang Ming's call felt like a timely blessing.
When Yang Qianfan arrived at Zhang Ming's house that afternoon, several friends had already gathered and were waiting for him to start the game. As soon as he joined in, luck seemed to be on his side; he won round after round without ever losing his turn as the dealer. Just as he was caught up in the thrill of the game, he suddenly heard someone knock on the door, followed by hurried footsteps coming from the living room toward the room.
Curiosity got the better of Yang Qianfan as he peeked into the living room like a curious goose. It turned out to be Hu Yuanji and Liao Chengwei. Liao Chengwei looked particularly unhappy today, with a furrowed brow that suggested he was harboring some deep-seated grudge. Upon entering, he immediately began venting his frustrations without pause.
Yang Qianfan felt his good mood dissipate as Liao Chengwei's incessant complaints filled the air. "What’s wrong with you? Did your dad die or something? You come in here whining non-stop," Yang Qianfan snapped angrily, slamming his mahjong tiles down on the table.
Liao Chengwei flinched at Yang Qianfan's outburst and fell silent, lowering his head. Hu Yuanji noticed this and awkwardly chuckled before moving closer to Yang Qianfan to defend Liao Chengwei. He then turned to Liao Chengwei and scolded him, "If you're in a bad mood, don't drag everyone else down with you. You didn’t sleep at all last night; go lie down in the other room for a bit!" He shot Liao Chengwei a look that urged him to leave and not cause any more trouble. Understanding the hint but feeling reluctant, Liao Chengwei suppressed his anger and retreated to the next room to sulk.
Seeing that Yang Qianfan's table was piled high with cash, Hu Yuanji realized that Yang must be having a lucky day and had likely won quite a bit of money. So he decided to flatter Yang Qianfan with a smile, saying, "Wow! You look radiant today; you must have won quite a lot!"
Yang Qianfan couldn't help but feel pleased by this compliment and grinned back at him. "Looks like you have good eyes! I’ve been on fire today—cleaning up!" With excitement, he flipped over his tiles again and declared another win.
The others playing with him felt frustrated as they watched him win yet again.
After several more rounds of play where Yang Qianfan continued his winning streak, just as he was basking in his success and gathering stacks of cash, Hu Yuanji suddenly sighed beside him and lamented, "If only Liao Chengwei had luck like yours today!"
Hearing Hu Yuanji bring up Liao Chengwei again dampened Yang Qianfan's spirits. He put down his tiles and pretended to care as he asked coldly, "What’s going on with your Liao Chengwei today? He seems unusually off."
"He was kicked out by his father and is now homeless!" Hu Yuanji exclaimed.
"Oh, I see. Sounds promising," Yang Qianfan replied with a smile, casually playing a card. It seemed that "sounds promising" had become his catchphrase over time.
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