Song Zhiyu swung a small bag of silver in his hand and walked out of the gambling house under the envious gazes of the crowd.
The small gambling house shut its doors, and shortly after, hung a sign at the entrance.
Song Zhiyu looked at that sign and clicked his tongue, "Winning just five hundred taels and they’re doing this?"
The sign read: Lord Song Si and dogs are not welcome!
The group of young dandies following beside Song Zhiyu all laughed, "How many places does that make now?"
Given Song Si-lang’s lucky streak, wherever he gambles, he wins, and is consequently shunned; winning every time, who can stand it?
They send him off with forced smiles and profit from gambling money, then put out such a sign, and whenever one house starts, several others follow, anyway Lord Song Si won’t pursue it.
Luckily, Song Si-lang only gambles casually; if he gambled heavily, every gambling house would probably shut upon seeing him.
"Song Si, are you treating us today?"
Song Zhiyu shrugged, "What’s the big deal, choose a place yourselves. But, the expenses can’t exceed this bag here."
"Of course, don’t we know your habits by now?"
They were all well-known young rakes of the capital, having played together since childhood; with Song Zhiyu’s remarkable luck, whenever he won money from a small gambling house, he would treat everyone, but the treat would never exceed his winnings.
As Song Zhiyu would say, he could treat, but only with winnings from outside; if he spent more and had to ask his family, his legs would be broken.
So over these years, this became the norm, and nobody thought much of it.
Upon leaving the alley of the small gambling house, a few little beggars surrounded him, and Song Zhiyu generously tossed a few silver coins out, causing the beggars to kneel on the ground calling him lord, ceaselessly uttering auspicious words.
This too was Song Zhiyu’s habit; from his winnings, he benevolently d.
The group discussed where to have a meal, and Song Zhiyu, utterly bored, looked around, his gaze sweeping past a gentleman courteously smiling at another man beside him as they both walked into the alley opposite; he then looked away.
"I bet a bag of peanuts that Wei Cheng is definitely a Longyang."
Song Zhiyu turned his head, looking at his friend Bao Chengxuan munching peanuts, "Who?"
"That Wei Cheng, the illegitimate son of Marquis Weiyuan, wasn’t he just brought back recently? I hear he’s also a hot contender for this autumn’s top scholar!"
Song Zhiyu immediately lost interest; academic achievers were the worst, especially good-looking ones.
"Clear the way, clear the way, the horse’s gone wild."
A clamor of cries came nearer from afar.
The group all looked over.
A pure white steed was rapidly charging toward Song Zhiyu and his friends, and atop the horse was a blaze.
It was a girl in a fiery red riding outfit, her hair tied in a high ponytail, with wheat-colored skin.
Yet to Song Zhiyu, it seemed like a blaze, rushing straight at him.
As the horse and rider came closer, everyone scattered, except for Song Zhiyu, who dumbly stared at the rider.
"Get out of the way!"
The girl on the horse, seeing Song Zhiyu standing on the roadside without avoiding, was utterly exasperated.
Dammit, the fool of the capital!
Niu Pan’er cursed, and without thinking, flipped up standing on the horse’s back, yanked the reins hard, forcing the horse’s head and legs to rear up.
The horse neighed long.
A blur passed everyone’s eyes as the blaze leaped off the horse, kicking the horse’s belly hard while also tackling Song Zhiyu, who was stupidly standing by the horse’s hooves, to the ground, rolling him aside.
Song Zhiyu: A blaze tackled me!