Chapter Thirteen: Who’s Sleeping? Let’s Get Up and Party!
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Xu Xiu didn’t listen to Meng Ziyi’s words.
Enduring the saltiness, he finished the scrambled eggs in his bowl, then quickly rinsed his mouth with some water.
“You... you actually ate it? Isn’t it salty?” Meng Ziyi was somewhat touched.
He hadn’t expected that someone would eat such a salty dish just for her!
He... was so special!
But clearly, Meng Ziyi was reading too much into it, because Xu Xiu had learned the poem "Pity the Farmer" since childhood.
“Who knows the food on the plate, every grain is hard-earned!”
No matter what happened to the poem’s author later, this poem was indeed one filled with positive energy.
Moreover, Xu Xiu’s grandfather had told him that wasting food was akin to a crime; only those who had experienced that era truly understood the value of food!
At that moment, Li Xueqin interrupted everyone: “Alright, we should start thinking about how to complete tasks and earn money. If we don’t make money, the production team is really going to starve us.”
“Hey, there’s a board. We can write tasks on it, and also put down how much they’re worth. We just write whatever we can do, and then we’ll get paid, right?”
Wang Sulong’s eyes lit up. “Then I’ll write ‘bring happiness to everyone.’ I think that’s worth a thousand. If everyone agrees, that’s settled!”
“Brother, that definitely won’t work. I advise you to give up your fantasies and face reality, okay?”
“Don’t be so absurd. What you’re saying is way out there.”
Even Li Xueqin couldn’t help but cover her face in disbelief.
“First, you can’t contribute a thousand. Second, your self-assessment isn’t accurate. I think you should go down and reflect for a while.”
“Alright, Sister Dan, I’ll reflect and then talk again.” Wang Sulong immediately bowed his head and resumed a humble attitude.
“I think right now, we’re like the hostesses in a karaoke bar. The bosses can arrange us into any posture they want.”
Xu Xiu’s words were blunt and unyielding.
Though that was true...
It was just a bit too crude.
Crude to the point of being unbearably vulgar.
His comment immediately made the audience laugh.
“Number 6! You’ve never disappointed us. Whatever comes out of your mouth always comes with a twist!”
“You’re talking about hostesses while drunk!”
“Whoa! I said something and it just flew past like a car—what a fast car! I felt my face get pressed for a moment and then it was gone.”
“We can’t watch this live chat anymore. You all think about nothing but nonsense every day. A gentleman like me feels so uncomfortable!”
Actually, Xu Xiu didn’t mean it that way.
He was just making a metaphor; he hadn’t even gone to university, so how much knowledge could he have?
Who would have thought that after he spoke, everyone fell silent? What did that mean?
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Were you giving me the cold shoulder?
Just as the atmosphere was about to turn awkward, Song Dan suddenly brought up La Mu.
“I’m telling you, during the first season, we really owed it to La Mu. If he hadn’t organized the party at the end, we would’ve completely fallen apart.”
“Huh? Didn’t I write the lyrics?” Li Xueqin was stunned.
La Mu quickly clarified, “That just shows you have to work in front of the leader. I know how to show off. I’m very proactive.”
“That’s true. You’re too good at showing off!” Wang Sulong jumped in.
“Li Xueqin, don’t be stubborn. Without La Mu, you definitely can’t do this,” Song Dan said with finality.
Li Xueqin, feeling hopeless, nodded faintly, while La Mu laughed heartily.
After dinner, everyone tidied up and returned to the dormitory to rest.
However...
When men live together in a group, all sleeping on one big bunk bed, do you think you can actually sleep?
What a joke!
Sleep? No way! It’s time to party!
After showering, Xu Xiu pulled them into a lifelong career of playing poker.
The cards were contraband; if the production team found out, they would be confiscated.
But the cameras in the room had long been turned off by Xu Xiu. They couldn’t expect the cameras to be on while they slept, right?
That was reasonable!
The five of them—Xu Xiu, Wu Dajing, Wang Sulong, Wang Chuanjun, and Fei Qiming—pulled out a deck and started playing.
They played a type of northeastern poker called “Pulling the Big Truck.” The rules were simple and fast.
The last person to run out of cards lost and had to squat while playing until someone else ran out first and could sit down.
The red three always started. Cards like 5, 6, 7 could be played as a straight. Three or four of a kind were called bombs, and the combination of the two jokers was the biggest bomb.
If someone played a single five and you held two fives, you could play both to “fork,” but another player could use the last five to “hook.” Only four-card bombs or the double joker bomb could beat these; three-card bombs couldn’t.
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In the first round, Xu Xiu was the first to finish. He played a perfect hand—a big straight—and was left with only three sevens as a bomb.
This hand was also called a fool’s hand.
As the name suggests, even my grandmother could win with this hand!
After Xu Xiu finished, the other four watched him enviously, especially Wang Chuanjun, whose face was as sour as someone constipated.
Wang Chuanjun’s expression piqued Xu Xiu’s interest, so he glanced at Wang’s cards.
Not looking would have been better—seeing it was shocking.
Wang held a diamond 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, a king, an ace, and a small joker.
This was the kind of hand that would break the heart of the player and move the spectators to tears.
It was the legendary terrible hand, as rotten as it could get.
If the gambling saint didn’t activate his supernatural powers, even he might not win with this hand.
Wang Chuanjun grinned widely when he saw Xu Xiu approaching, and Xu Xiu returned the grin.
“Here’s to your luck!”
The game quickly shifted. Fei Qiming and Wang Sulong also finished, leaving only Wang Chuanjun and Wu Dajing.
At this point, Wang held 3, 4, 6, 10, K, and the small joker.
The latest card on the table was an ace played by Wang.
“I pass!” Wu waved his hand.
Wang’s mind was racing as he tried to remember the cards played.
He then played a 3, but Wu responded with an ace. Wang played the small joker, and Wu passed again.
“4, pass.”
“6, pass.”
“K, pass.”
Finally, Wang played his 10, and Wu angrily revealed his cards.
He was left with a pair of tens.
If Wang hadn’t kept track of the cards and had played a 10 before the king, Wu could have “forked” and won outright.
Wu could also have split his pair of tens when Wang played the 3, which would have won, but since Wu hadn’t memorized the cards, he had to wait for Wang to play a pair or a 10.