Chapter 5019 — A Swindler on the Road

"Then there's nothing more to say. Call the police." The buzz-cut young man immediately took out his phone.

"No, no, no!" The old man — perhaps afraid of trouble, perhaps knowing he was in the wrong — hurriedly reached out to stop him. Reluctant as he was, he still forced himself to say, "Half is half, then. You give me the money, and I'll give you the ticket."

"Watch closely. This is five thousand. Hand over the ticket." The buzz-cut man reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of cash. For someone so unremarkable in appearance, dressed in no particular brand, he carried that much money on him — it was a little surprising.

"Five thousand?" The old man froze for a moment at the sight of so much money. With his little shoulder-poles, he might not earn that much in a whole year, but he quickly caught on that something was off, and began to shout, "You just said thirty thousand! Why are you giving me five thousand? You think you can push around an old man who never went to school, is that it? You want the ticket, you give me fifteen thousand!"

"Fifteen thousand? You look like an honest old fellow, but you've got a black heart! Opening your mouth for fifteen thousand — you've gone mad for money, haven't you!" The young man made as if to strike him.

The old man hurriedly ducked behind Wei Zhao and cried, "Young man, you saw it all! He's the one who said we'd split it even! A ticket worth thirty thousand and he wants to fob me off with five — he thinks an old man can't count!"

"Bullshit! Don't you know prize money gets taxed? Dreaming of thirty thousand — after a twenty percent income tax, there's only twenty-four thousand left. Don't you know that?" Unable to reach the old man, the young man had to swallow his temper and keep his patience.

"Twenty-four thousand?" The old man was stunned for a moment, mulled it over, then started shouting again. "Even so, you can't give me just five thousand! Young man, do the sum for me — what's half of twenty-four thousand?"

"Twelve thousand," Wei Zhao said without batting an eye.

"Right, right, twelve thousand! See, even this young man says twelve thousand — and you, you little punk, still want to cheat me?" The old man was red in the face with anger.

"Fine. If that's how you want it, then you give me twelve thousand and the ticket's all yours. How about it, old man?" The young man seized the opening.

"Where would a vegetable-selling farmer like me get that much money!" The old man's tone turned sheepish. Looking at the young man, he said, "You look like you've got money on you. You just give me twelve thousand, and the ticket's yours."

"Wishful thinking. Why should I be the one to go through all the hassle of claiming the prize, just so an old codger like you can pocket the profit for nothing? I'm telling you, I've only got five thousand here, not a cent more. Just tell me — do you want it or not?" The young man's tone was hard.

"No! Splitting it even with you is already a loss, and now twelve thousand turns into five? You really think I'm easy to fool!" The old man gritted his teeth.

"Fine. I'm calling the police right now, and you won't even get the five thousand, old man!" The young man made to pick up his phone again.

"You—!" The old man was furious and frantic at once, and hastily blocked him. "All right, I'll take a step back. I won't ask for twelve thousand either — just give me ten thousand, and the ticket's yours. That's fair enough, isn't it?"

"I told you, I've only got five thousand on me in total, not a cent more. If you can give me ten thousand, I've no objection! No — as a young man I'll be generous. I don't even need ten thousand. You just give me five thousand, and the ticket's yours. How about it, old man? Now you've got nothing to say, have you?" The young man sneered.

The old man looked somewhat tempted, but still said sheepishly, "I don't have five thousand either!"

"Then what's there to talk about? Since you can't give me five thousand, then I give you five thousand and the ticket's mine — or else we just call the police. Take your pick, old man!" As he spoke, the young man reached out to snatch the ticket again.

The old man hastily ducked behind Wei Zhao once more and yelled, "Only five thousand? I'd rather give it to someone else! Young man, you just give me five thousand and this ticket is yours — anyone but this little scoundrel can have the bargain!"

"Damn you, who are you calling a scoundrel?" The young man flew into a rage and lunged to hit him again, but the old man was now nimble as could be, dodging and weaving around Wei Zhao. The two of them chased each other in circles and actually trapped Wei Zhao in the middle, leaving him unable to get away for the moment.

Seeing a fight about to break out, passersby gathered around. Realizing things looked bad, the young man backed off and pulled Wei Zhao and the old man into a side alley at the street corner. Lowering his voice, he said, "Forget it, forget it. I'll count myself unlucky today and take the loss — but I don't want this old man to get the bargain either! How about this: brother, you give me five thousand, and give the old man another five thousand, and the bargain's yours. Old man, you've got no objection to that, have you?"

"Right, right! I can tell you're a good man, young fellow. Letting a good man like you have the bargain is better than letting a scoundrel like him have it. You just give me five thousand, and the ticket's yours!" the old man chimed in.

"Really?" Wei Zhao's expression showed both temptation and hesitation.

"Of course it's real! You give us five thousand each, and with this ticket you can walk away with twenty-four thousand. There's no better bargain under the sun! It's only because I didn't bring that much money — if I'd had the full ten thousand, would this bargain ever have fallen to you?" The young man sounded aggrieved.

"But how do I know this ticket has really won anything?" Wei Zhao's face still carried a trace of wariness.

"That's easy. Look at the numbers and the date on the ticket, then check it on your phone — how could anyone fake something like this? Here, take a look." On his phone, the young man found the official welfare lottery website and pulled up the winning announcement for that draw to show Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao leaned in and looked carefully, then said in a voice full of delighted surprise, "It really is ten third-prize bets!"

"See? There's no way to fake something like this. So, brother, do you want it or not? If you don't, I'll go find someone else. Put down ten thousand and walk away with twenty-four — I only have to shout once and there'll be plenty of people fighting for this bargain. It's only because I think you're all right, brother, that I'm letting you have it." As he spoke, the young man took two steps toward the alley mouth, making as if to leave.

"Young man, I know you're an honest, good-hearted sort, so just take the bargain. Someone's going to get it anyway — better you than anyone else. I just like the look of you," the old man urged along with him.

The two of them went back and forth, one pleading earnestly, the other playing hard to get, until at last Wei Zhao relented. Cautiously, he pulled the ten thousand yuan from his trouser pocket, divided it into two stacks, and put one in each of their hands. "Give me the ticket. You two count it carefully — five thousand each, and this ticket has nothing more to do with you."

"Nothing to do with us, nothing to do with us! If this little scoundrel kicks up a fuss and tries to cheat you, I'll testify for you!" The old man took the money, beaming, and nodded again and again.

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