Chapter 17

Liu Xun left the barbecue restaurant and walked down West Street. It was after ten, but the crowds hadn’t dispersed. Long lines formed at barbecue stalls, and smoke and cumin filled the air.

He turned onto a side street and found a massage club. Around the university district, such places were generally inexpensive: glaring white lights, towels folded into perfect blocks, everything so proper it almost looked suspicious. This time the part-time worker was a kindergarten teacher rather than a college student. Liu Xun slept the night on the massage table.

He woke to daylight, sent Li Qian an address, and left. Over the last two days, he’d realized he needed transportation. Walking and taking taxis everywhere in the university district was inconvenient. But most of his money was in the stock market. He knew Guangsheng Nonferrous Metals would triple in a month and a half, so he couldn’t touch that investment.

He had another idea. On this day in his previous life, September 2, 2010, a medical student had won a million yuan on a scratch ticket at a university-district lottery shop. News had spread so fast that within half a day the shop had hung a red-and-yellow banner congratulating the student. Over the next two days, a scratch-ticket craze had swept the district. Lines formed outside lottery shops, and every ticket sold out. Liu Xun remembered the winning shop. He’d gone there to join the excitement but hadn’t managed to buy a single ticket.

He’d passed the shop while out with Li Qian yesterday and spoken briefly to the owner, a friendly fellow from his hometown. The man had said new stock would arrive this morning. The shop sold two types of scratch tickets with million-yuan prizes. If Liu Xun bought every ticket of both types today, the jackpot should be as good as his.

He stopped at an old restaurant for a bowl of noodles with peas and minced pork. The peas were cooked soft and coated the noodles when mixed in; they tasted excellent. After wiping his mouth, he made his way leisurely to the lottery shop.

Li Qian was already waiting outside. She wore the off-white T-shirt he’d bought her yesterday, its collar lying against her collarbones, and black straight-leg trousers that made her legs look long and straight. Morning light illuminated her fair face and lowered eyes. When she heard his footsteps, she looked up, visibly uneasy, as though afraid he was still angry about last night.

“Don’t do it again,” he said lightly. Her shoulders relaxed, and she followed without asking more.

The shop was smoky. More than a dozen young men crowded the sofa, studying a K3 lottery-results chart on the wall. Some scribbled calculations; others argued around cigarette butts about the next numbers. Tobacco and old lottery paper made the air sharp.

Liu Xun moved around the crowd to the counter, where the young bespectacled owner was checking his accounts. Recognizing him, the man lifted his chin. “You’re here.”

“Did today’s stock arrive?”

The owner wasn’t surprised. Each book of scratch tickets had a guaranteed minimum amount in prizes. Many shopkeepers quietly managed sales accordingly: if the first half of a book yielded few prizes, they might remove and scratch the rest themselves. Experienced customers sometimes asked to buy a whole sheet or a freshly opened book.

Most university-district customers were students with limited spending power. Five- and ten-yuan tickets were popular; few bought the twenty-yuan ones, and a delivery could last a week. The owner pushed a stack across the counter. “Arrived half an hour ago. I haven’t put them out yet. How many?”

“All the twenty-yuan tickets of these two types. New stock and old.”

The owner adjusted his glasses. “Are you sure?”

“Sure.”

He pushed over two whole new books and retrieved the loose tickets from the counter. “One hundred and twenty-six altogether. Give me twenty-five hundred.”

“Card.” Liu Xun handed it over. The owner processed payment and tore off the receipt. The whole transaction took less than three minutes.

Li Qian watched him spend more than two thousand without blinking. She opened her mouth, swallowed whatever she’d meant to say, and followed him outside.

“Let’s find somewhere to scratch them at our leisure.”

He took her around the corner to a quiet café. Most seats were empty; only a boy wearing headphones sat reading in a corner. Liu Xun chose a window booth, poured the tickets onto the table, and handed Li Qian a coin. “You scratch them.”

“Me?” She accepted the coin and looked uncertainly at the colorful pile. She’d never bought scratch tickets, but had heard about them, and worried her poor luck would lose his money.

“It’s fine. I trust you!”

Biting her lip, she began. The coin rasped over the silver coating. Across from her, Liu Xun took each revealed ticket, checked it, and circled any prize with a pen.

“Ten.”

“Fifty.”

“This one’s good—one hundred and twenty!”

Li Qian worked with growing skill, the scratching becoming continuous. More than twenty minutes later, at ticket fifty-seven, she paused to rub her wrist. “How is it? Have we broken even?”

Liu Xun added the amounts. “A long way to go. Only a little over five hundred.”

Her face fell. She lowered her eyes and began another ticket more slowly, discouraged. Nearly half were gone and she’d won only five hundred; she thought her luck was bad. Seeing this, Liu Xun patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. Keep going!”

She glanced up, said nothing, and pressed the coin to the next ticket. Number sixty-eight, twenty yuan. Sixty-nine, ten. Seventy-two, fifty. Eighty-one, one hundred.

Her hand ached and the inside of her forearm felt swollen, but she kept scratching. In the quiet café, the rasp was so clear that even the boy with headphones looked up.

Ticket ninety-eight.

Liu Xun picked it up and looked at the line of numbers. His hand shook. One million!

Though he’d expected it, seeing the number on the paper made it real enough to thrill him. He dropped his pen, threw his arms around Li Qian as she bent over the next ticket, and planted a hard kiss on her cheek.

“Baby, you’re so lucky! We won the jackpot—a million!”

Startled, Li Qian dropped the coin and recoiled. Then the number registered, and her fear turned to disbelief. Her gaze moved from his face to the scratched ticket.

“H-how much?”