Chapter 33: The Unwinnable Game of Twenty-One

Attire made from animal hides possessed a distinct advantage: its inherent thickness allowed the wearer to conceal a multitude of items within the inner pockets of the garment.

Wang delved a hand into her clothing, and with a gesture akin to a casual scratch, extracted a deck of cards, holding them deftly between her thumb and forefinger.

The card box was then slid across the surface, coming to rest before Cai.

“Silly woman, today—no, for the next four days, your sole mission is to play.”

“Play?”

Cai echoed the word, a concept strikingly alien to her.

“Play. Play with me! You have no other duties! Isn’t that an incredibly easy task?”

For most, a day spent entirely in leisure would be a source of immense joy.

Yet Cai found no joy in the prospect, and her subsequent reply, delivered without a hint of deference, confirmed it:

“Might I choose to work instead?”

For a fleeting instant, Wang’s face twitched, a subtle ripple of expression that vanished almost before it could be registered.

“Are you, perhaps, a workaholic? Do you feel ill at ease if you don’t work for a single day?”

“No, relaxation is certainly preferable. It’s simply that, compared to playing with you, I personally find work to be a less challenging endeavor.”

“You… you truly are an honest girl!”

A hand settled gently upon Cai’s head, its touch surprisingly comforting.

Nevertheless, Cai sensed that within the next three seconds, a familiar fate awaited her.

And then,

–Thump!

Her head was gently rapped.

“Silly woman, listen closely! You must learn to accept the goodwill of others, and by ‘others,’ I specifically mean myself, standing right here before you.”

“May I refuse?”

“You may not! You are free to refuse others, but there’s no need for such formalities with me.”

“So you are special?”

“Precisely. When dealing with others, you must cultivate a habit of suspicion. But I am not like those people; you can trust me implicitly!”

This declaration, of course, merely proved that the concept of ‘double standards’ had existed since time immemorial.

The game commenced immediately, one of its participants having been, shall we say, ‘volunteered.’

The specific nature of the game, however, was a matter requiring careful deliberation.

On this point, Wang offered her personal perspective:

“I won’t play any Eastern Continent games with this silly woman, lest I be accused of ‘bullying.’ We’ll stick to games popular in the Western Continent. Do you see this box of cards?”

While cards boasted myriad variations, the presence of only two players rendered common game types unsuitable.

Wang decided to play a modified version of ‘Blackjack’ with Cai.

The rules were as follows:

All cards were placed into the box. Each player would initially draw seven cards to form their hand, then take turns playing one card in sequence.

Should Player A’s card surpass Player B’s in value, the victor of that round would skip their turn in the subsequent round, while the loser from the preceding round would play as normal.

At the conclusion of each round, regardless of the outcome, both players would, in a predetermined order, alternately draw one card and add it to their hand.

After several rounds of spirited play, both participants were required to tally the points of the cards they had played.

The first player whose cumulative score surpassed ‘twenty-one’ would instantly be declared the loser.

The rules were straightforward, and after a quick mental absorption, Cai commenced her match against Wang.

The initial step involved a round of rock-paper-scissors.

Whether due to ill fortune or simply a lack of skill, Cai lost unequivocally, finding herself at a disadvantage from the very outset.

At this juncture, Wang was deep in thought:

‘How can I proceed in a way that allows my opponent to save face?’

‘After all, it’s merely a game, and its sole purpose is mutual enjoyment. There’s no need for either of us to become too serious about it.’

Yet, while Wang grasped these simple truths, she also understood that overtly ‘going easy’ would be disrespectful to her opponent.

Balancing the need to preserve a novice’s pride with the imperative not to visibly concede proved a vexing dilemma for Wang.

Just as she pondered this ‘win-win’ strategy, Cai abruptly laid down her cards.

Wang’s initial thought was:

‘My opponent believes the outcome is predetermined, and has thus conceded prematurely.’

To her surprise, Cai’s first words after setting down her cards were:

“Five, eight, three, three, four—a total of twenty-three points! I regret to inform you, you have lost.”

‘You lost, you lost, lost, lost…’

The words echoed relentlessly in Wang’s mind, plunging her into a dizzying stupor.

“No, impossible! How could this be?”

Having suffered defeat in the opening round, the stubborn Wang’s expression visibly faltered, and her guard instantly rose.

‘It must have been my own carelessness, a moment of inattention that allowed Cai to secure an easy victory.’

‘Yes, that was entirely an accident!’

‘The same outcome certainly won’t repeat itself…’

Fueled by a burning desire for vindication, Wang initiated the second round.

As Cai had emerged victorious in the previous round, she now held the advantage of ‘first play.’

Approximately the time it would take to finish a cup of tea later:

“Six, six, seven, three. You lost.”

The second round concluded with even greater swiftness; unlike the first, which reached its fifth turn, this one required only four rounds to declare a victor and a vanquished.

“Hmph hmph hmph, you certainly have some tricks up your sleeve. But that’s good, it means you’re worthy of my full effort!”

Involuntarily, Wang’s hand trembled as she clutched her cards, which quivered precariously between her fingers, like the gnarled, rheumatic limbs of an aged individual.

By this point, Cai genuinely wished to cease playing.

She reasoned that it was merely a game, and the most crucial aspect of any game was the mutual enjoyment of its participants.

Yet, observing Wang’s current reactions, Cai could discern no hint of pleasure whatsoever.

Truth be told, Cai found herself unable to further trample upon the self-esteem of the person before her.

‘It would be acceptable if I lost the next round, but what if I were to win yet again…?’

“Perhaps we should stop playing, what do you say?”

Wang offered no verbal reply, instead conveying her answer through the resolute action of shuffling the cards.

The third round’s course and conclusion could be summarized in two succinct words:

“You lost.”

Wang realized her error, having severely underestimated the classic adage, ‘a game is a battlefield,’ and resolved to commit everything to the subsequent rounds.

The outcome of the fourth round could be summarized with a single word:

“Lost.”

“Lost.”

“Lost.”

“…”

After more than a dozen consecutive rounds, Cai found herself unable to utter the same damning word again, instead conveying the outcome through a pregnant silence.

The silence spoke volumes, akin to a pointed gaze that implied, ‘you understand, don’t you?’

Wang had initially intended to instruct Cai on the game’s intricacies and perhaps even showcase her own skill. Instead, she had been subjected to a series of flawless victories by her opponent.

Instantly, a profound sense of humiliation washed over her, a feeling that clung stubbornly to her heart.

To borrow a well-known adage:

‘She had presumed her opponent to be a mere novice, only to discover she was facing a true master!’

At that moment, Cai secretly vowed never to touch playing cards again, lest she continue to inflict such psychological wounds upon an innocent soul.

In an attempt to offer solace, Cai spoke as gently as she could:

“Please, let’s stop playing! At this point, it feels as though I’m simply bullying you, and I feel truly awful about it.”

“Hmph, bullying? Hmph hmph hmph hmph hmph!”

The distorted laughter seemed to vibrate through the very air, rattling the leaves outside the window. Birds, startled from their perches, scattered in panicked flight, as if fleeing the apocalypse itself.

“Are you… all right?”

Cai, too, felt a tremor of fear.

Yet, unlike the unconcerned birds, she felt an obligation to tend to Wang’s emotional state, and thus could not retreat.

As if in response to Cai’s concern, Wang abruptly lifted her previously downcast face. A serene, almost detached expression settled upon her features as she spoke:

“Good. Very good! Just now, a profound realization dawned upon me.”