Heaven Official's Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu (Novel) Vol. 2(19)

Countless pairs of eyes were intently focused on the cup in his hands, and Xie Lian felt that somehow, this tiny little gambling cup had grown incomparably heavy. He didn’t know if there was a right way to flip it. However, just as he was about to reveal the outcome, the croupier stopped him.

“Wait.”

“What is it?” Xie Lian asked.

The croupier replied, “Chengzhu said that your cup-shaking posture isn’t quite right.”

Xie Lian thought to himself, So there really is a correct way of doing this? Could all my bad luck earlier be due to my bad posture?

He asked modestly, “Then may I ask what the correct posture is?”

The croupier responded, “Chengzhu has invited you to come up, as he is willing to teach you, gongzi.”

Upon hearing this, the crowd of ghosts within the den drew in sharp breaths.

Xie Lian heard the ghosts grumble.

“To think Chengzhu is going to teach him—that’s a first! Does that mean he’s gonna die?”

“Chengzhu wants to do what? Just who is this?! Why teach him?!”

“Shaking a cup is shaking a cup! What kind of correct posture is there?!”

Xie Lian was thinking the same question, but the croupier had already motioned him toward the red curtains.

“Please.”

Thus, Xie Lian arrived in front of the red curtains with the black wooden gambling cup clutched in his hands.

The silk curtains swayed gently, almost giving life to the red silhouette. The person behind the curtains was standing directly in front of him with only half an arm’s distance between them. Xie Lian held his breath as a hand parted the heavy red curtains and landed perfectly under his own, supporting the gambling cup.

This was a right hand, slender and pale, and the well-defined fingers had a red string tied around the third digit. Against the pitch-black wooden cup, the white appeared even paler and the red even more vivid.

Slowly, Xie Lian lifted his eyes. A youth, roughly eighteen or nineteen years of age, stood silently behind the cloudlike red silk curtains.

It was San Lang.

His robes were still the same maple red, his skin still white as snow. It was the same uniquely handsome and dangerously sharp, youthful face, but its contours were now slightly more defined. While he could still be called a youth, he could also be called a man. The shyness of boyhood had evolved into a composed calm. The sheer wildness between his brows reflected his pride. The same eye that twinkled like a star was now gazing deeply, unblinkingly at Xie Lian.

However, though it was as bright as a star, there was only one eye. The left eye.

The other was hidden behind a black eyepatch.

The red silk curtains were only open a small slit. In his position, Xie Lian was the only one who could make out the person behind the curtains, since he was blocking the view from everyone else in the hall—not that they would dare to sneak a peek, anyway. That left eye watched Xie Lian, and Xie Lian returned the gaze, subconsciously drawn to it.

This time, Hua Cheng looked not only a few years older, but he’d also grown taller. Before, when Xie Lian looked at him, he could maintain eye contact comfortably, but now he had to strain his neck to look up.

After they had both stared for a good, long while, Hua Cheng finally broke the silence.

He said in a deep voice, “Would you like to bet high or low?”

It was this deep voice, pleasant to the ear, that pulled Xie Lian back to reality. As it made no difference how he bet, he answered, “High.”

“Fine,” Hua Cheng replied. “Then I’ll roll first.”

Xie Lian’s left hand supported the base of the black gambling cup while his right hand covered the circular lid. Hua Cheng stood in front of him, and with his right hand covering Xie Lian’s left, he guided him to shake lightly before lifting the lid. There were two dice at the bottom of the cup, a six and a five.

Lang Qianqiu, from where he was hanging above them, had a clear view and saw how easily he rolled such a high number. His eyes widened, and he exclaimed in awe, “How did that happen?!”

Hua Cheng loosened his hand slightly and beckoned to Xie Lian. “Shake it like this. Now you try.”

Xie Lian mirrored his actions and shook the cup twice, but Hua Cheng said, “Not like that.”

Even though he was reprimanding Xie Lian, his tone was exceptionally gentle and patient. As he explained, Hua Cheng supported Xie Lian’s hand with his own again, but this time, his left hand found its way to Xie Lian’s right, the one covering the lid.

He instructed softly, “Like this.”

And just like that, the backs of Xie Lian’s hands were enveloped by Hua Cheng’s palms.





When skin touched skin, Hua Cheng’s hands felt temperate like jade. The exquisite silver vambraces that Hua Cheng wore were as cold as ice, and yet his movements were careful, and he never allowed them to touch Xie Lian’s skin. His hands guided Xie Lian’s and shook the black wooden gambling cup in a rhythm that was neither hurried nor slow.

Once, twice, thrice.

Clack, clack, clack.

There was a crisp, rattling sound of the two dice colliding and entangling with each other as they bounced inside the black cup. Even though the shakes were gentle, Xie Lian could feel waves of numbness traveling from the backs of his hands, along his arms, spreading through the rest of his body.