The private room fell so still that a dropped needle could be heard.

Chen Baoxiang had been studying her tiles, and when someone caught her attention, she looked over and her eyes went completely round: “You… how did you get here?”

“Are you going to stand up or not?” He glanced down at her, his voice carrying a note of mild disdain.

Chen Baoxiang immediately rose and stepped aside, even wiping down the stool for him.

Zhang Zhixu took her tiles and sat down. He swept one glance at the hand and looked slightly disdainful: “What’s your luck like?”

“If my luck were good I wouldn’t be losing in the first place,” she mumbled, then looked at him with a mix of disbelief, and said softly: “Did you actually hear me calling you?”

She patted the little pouch at her waist that held the figurine, deeply moved. “I guess that one hundred copper coins wasn’t spent in vain after all.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” He pressed his lips together. “I only came out because I was hungry and looking for something to eat. I happened to see you on the way.”

One look at that pitiful little expression of hers, and he had known she’d been bullied again.

Zhang Zhixu swept a glance at the people across the table.

Lu Qingrong gave a start and instinctively shrank back; the others at the table exchanged glances and didn’t dare make a sound.

His clothing looked similar to what Pei Ruheng was wearing — both were the blue-gray color, and Pei Ruheng’s ensemble was already considered quite magnificent, having been made several months in advance from fine fabrics especially for this birthday. But placed beside this newcomer’s attire, the entire room suddenly understood: what made a fine garment valuable was not the fabric — it was the cut. Pei Ruheng’s ensemble looked slightly stiff and fitted, while this person’s fell naturally and with perfect drape, his wrists rising and falling with ease — without any embroidery or gold-and-silver ornament, it conveyed an absolute and total refinement.

What kind of person could be more distinguished than the young master of the Pei Family?

No one dared ask aloud, yet without asking one could already half-guess.

The rowdy and wine-soaked atmosphere of the party suddenly transformed into something clear and composed — no one dared raise their voice, and even Lu Qingrong fell silent without causing further trouble.

The maidservant across the table played two more tiles.

Zhang Zhixu glanced at her, and let out a quiet, unimpressed sound.

The maidservant’s hands trembled slightly, and she shifted with a trace of unease.

Zhang Zhixu unhurriedly drew his tiles and played two — clearly ones that others could follow on.

Chen Baoxiang beside him was so anxious she was clawing at her own ears: “Do you even know what you’re doing? Each of those tokens is five taels.”

Look at her now — bold enough to gamble at those stakes out here.

He said with undisguised impatience: “Say one more word and I’ll lose this whole box of tokens for you.”

Chen Baoxiang instantly fell silent.

Strange as it seemed, her hand was disjointed and small in value — she had been thinking that getting away with losing only a few tokens would be a good outcome. But hand after hand played on, and somehow Zhang Zhixu played out all his tiles.

“You should have followed those two pairs earlier,” Lu Qingrong complained.

The maidservant in front was sweating coldly — how was she to know this man had been baiting her? She had assumed he was holding back large tiles and wanted to contest the play order with her, never imagining it had all been a performance.

“It was only four tokens,” the maidservant said defiantly. “Play again.”

As had been mentioned before, because his own son showed extraordinary talent, Zhang Yuanchu had feared that Zhang Zhixu might miss out on learning something, and packed nearly twenty lessons a day into his schedule — one of which was the art of gambling.

Zhang Zhixu had hated this class. He thought it utterly useless.

But after winning seven or eight consecutive full sweeps, Chen Baoxiang was clutching the tokens, her face alight with excitement as she flung her arms around his.

“How do you know how to do this too!” Her eyes blazed like stars. “You’re incredible!”

Zhang Zhixu pushed her away with a look of ostentatious disdain, and said “it’s nothing,” but the corner of his mouth quietly curved upward.

Chen Baoxiang’s flaws were that she never minded her decorum, was loud and dramatic, and utterly lacking in manners. But her virtues were exactly the same — the moment he showed the slightest trace of surpassing ability, she was ready to praise him all the way to the heavens.

Being constantly praised wasn’t good for a person — it would lead to pride, complacency, and stagnation.

But he truly was delighted — and along with that delight came the sudden sense that all those lessons hadn’t been so entirely pointless after all. At least every starry night sky he had sacrificed to attend those classes had now been returned to him, all at once, in this moment.

Pleased, he picked up the next hand of tiles — and then caught sight of that light-fingered maidservant across the table making her moves again.

He rested his chin in his hand and watched without a word.

But after that hand was played out, he suddenly said: “Records official, check everyone’s tile counts.”

The records official startled, and went through each player’s tiles.

The maidservant had already swapped her illicitly obtained tiles back, and sat there with perfect composure waiting for the check.

“When was this three-beast Black Tortoise played?” The records official couldn’t quite remember.

The maidservant smiled: “With so many tiles, who can keep track of every single one? As long as the totals add up, isn’t that enough?”

“My opponent across from me played four Black Tortoise, five Azure Dragon, seven Vermilion Bird, and eight Vermilion Bird in sequence,” Zhang Zhixu said with unhurried composure. “She substituted a three Black Tortoise for a six White Tiger, and used it to beat her left-hand neighbor’s three-four-five-six-seven.”

With that, he spread out Cen Xuanyue’s played tiles and sorted them in sequence, then laid out his own in order.

Both hands checked out perfectly — the only discrepancy was in Lu Qingrong’s maidservant’s.

The records official laughed and offered to smooth it over: “This is a case of mis-played tiles. We’ll have her pay out a full sweep to each player as a penalty.”

“What mis-played tiles?” Chen Baoxiang had long since run out of patience. “She’s been swapping tiles the whole time — I’ve seen her do it multiple times. This time we caught her.”

“You’re slandering me!” Lu Qingrong said with aggressive bluster. “Just one wrong tile, and you want to throw this much filth at my person? By your logic, I could equally well say I watched you swapping tiles.”

“What tiles did you see me swapping? If I were swapping tiles, I’d make sure you didn’t have a single silver hairpin left.”

“You — Magistrate Pei, you’re the host here, you settle this!”

Pei Ruheng had been silent ever since Zhang Zhixu arrived, and at being suddenly called on, he said listlessly: “It’s just one hand of cards — if anything, just stop playing. What’s a few tens of taels?”

This wasn’t a matter of a few tens of taels — it was a matter of a few hundreds of taels!

Chen Baoxiang wanted to argue the point, but looking around her, none of the distinguished guests present seemed to particularly care — and if she insisted on exposing the maidservant’s cheating, she doubted anyone would take her side.

And so she let it drop, intending to just let it go.

Zhang Zhixu beside her gave her elbow a nudge.

She turned to look, and the expression on the immortal’s face was resolute and unwavering. With one sweep of his hands, Jiuquan, Ningsu, and the others all came and stood behind her.

In an instant, Chen Baoxiang had all the backbone she needed.

“Counting from the very first hand she cheated on, she won a total of eight hundred and sixty-three taels — from me, from Miss Cen, and from younger sister Ruimei combined,” she announced loudly. “If Magistrate Pei settles the debt on her behalf, then today’s matter will be considered resolved.”

Pei Ruheng blinked, and his brow furrowed.

“How dare you just name a number out of thin air!” Lu Qingrong shot to her feet in fury, slamming the table. “Is that what it looks like when you can’t take a loss?”

“I’m the one with winning tokens right now — the person who can’t take a loss is the cheater.” Chen Baoxiang stuck out her lower eyelid and pulled a face at her.

“You — what proof do you have!”

“Proof is simple — have someone search this maidservant of yours. She’s definitely hiding tiles on her person.”

The moment she said it, Jiuquan moved forward with his men, ready to act.

Lu Qingrong was furious and stepped in front of them, shouting: “You dare! The Lu Family may not be some great and illustrious household, but we have more than enough means to make you regret this. Push us too far and we’ll have every last one of you thrown into the northern city dungeons — and if you’re not killed, you’ll at least have a layer of skin stripped from you!”

Zhang Zhixu had been watching until now — but upon hearing these words, he drew Chen Baoxiang behind him and stood up himself.

“I am a man of limited learning, and have never before encountered what you call ‘effective means,'” he said, looking steadily at Lu Qingrong. “Today, allow me to be enlightened by this young lady — I would very much like to see them for myself.”