Volume One, Chapter 12: A Golden Opportunity to Make a Fortune!

I don’t know how much time had passed before I finally woke up.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on a leather sofa.

Brother Sheng was sitting behind a desk, smoking.

I struggled to sit up, intending to greet him, but a splitting headache hit me hard.

What I wanted to say turned into a muffled groan.

“Ouch?”

Hearing the noise, Brother Sheng immediately called out, “Gang, you’re awake?”

“Yeah.”

My head throbbed fiercely. I barely managed to reply and had no strength left to speak further.

Brother Sheng came over and sat beside me, smiling warmly. “Gang, don’t rush, take it easy.”

After a moment, my headache eased a bit. I politely thanked him and asked what had happened to me.

The answer was simple.

I had taken nine hits to the forehead and passed out.

Brother Sheng chuckled as he comforted me, “Gang, cheer up! Most folks who cross paths with Ma Gan end up worse off than you. This time, both Lei and Ma Gan spared your face!”

I couldn’t smile at all.

If I had any dignity left, it wouldn’t be me smashing bottles over Ma Gan—it would be the other way around.

Seeing my discomfort, Brother Sheng went on to tell me what had happened earlier.

“Remember Lei?”

“Before he blacked out, he spat a mouthful of saliva right in Song Xiaotang’s face, then knocked her to the ground and even kissed her.”

“Ma Gan went to help you up, and you said you wanted to be friends with his mother!”

I was completely stunned.

I vaguely recalled spitting some wine on Song Xiaotang, but I had no memory of pushing her down or talking about Ma Gan’s mother.

Brother Sheng told me that Song Xiaotang didn’t mind the kiss, and Ma Gan kept praising me as a real man.

Honestly, I didn’t care whether Ma Gan praised me or not.

After today, I would definitely remember him.

When the opportunity arose, I had to make Ma Gan pay me back!

Still, I thanked Brother Sheng again.

If it weren’t for him, this whole mess would’ve been impossible to settle.

“Ah, we’re brothers. This is nothing,” Brother Sheng said with a smile.

He told me he had already treated the wounds on my head and shoulder. It was nothing serious—just superficial injuries that would heal with rest.

I thanked him once more.

As we exchanged pleasantries, a series of beeping sounds suddenly came from the desk.

I recognized it as a pager and glanced over.

Then I was dumbfounded.

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On Brother Sheng’s desk lay a row of pagers!

At first glance, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me!

Pagers—these were the hallmark of successful people!

One of those small devices cost two thousand yuan!

Brother Sheng had ten of them lined up on his desk!

While I was still stunned, Brother Sheng told me to rest on the sofa as he went to check who was paging him.

I watched as he fiddled with the pagers and made phone calls.

He spoke in the Hong Kong dialect, which I barely understood, but I was deeply shocked!

Mainly because of that impressive row of pagers—ten in total, worth twenty thousand yuan!

Back in my village, counting the whole town, only the grain station chief had one.

Brother Sheng alone had ten!

What’s more, Brother Sheng didn’t care about these pagers!

The grain station chief kept his pager in a special leather case and treated it like a treasured possession, never letting anyone touch it.

But Brother Sheng was different!

His pagers were just tossed on the desk.

Whenever one beeped, he’d pick it up, glance at it, then throw it back down without a second thought about it breaking.

He didn’t even mind ash falling on them!

That scene utterly stunned me.

At that moment, I realized two things.

First, Brother Sheng was wealthy!

Second, this was Hong Kong City—a whole different world from my rural hometown!

In that instant, I began to understand why Song Xiaotang and Ma Gan called me a country bumpkin.

The little world I knew in the village was like looking at the sky from the bottom of a well; I had no idea the outside world was like this.

I felt my entire worldview had been upended!

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After a while, while no pagers were beeping, Brother Sheng returned and sat beside me, offering me a cigarette.

I didn’t smoke.

But the shock from earlier made me want to appear tough and not let him look down on me, so I took the cigarette and lit it, pretending to be experienced.

I gave one puff before revealing my inexperience.

Brother Sheng smiled warmly and said, “Gang, don’t rush your first time. Take it slow, get used to it, and soon you’ll enjoy it.”

What could I say? I just kept pretending.

After a few puffs, Brother Sheng casually asked, “Gang, did you come to Hong Kong City to make big money?”

I answered honestly.

I came out to work because I wanted to earn money.

He asked if I dared to make big money.

From his tone, I sensed that this opportunity wasn’t so simple.

But my curiosity got the better of me, and I asked how to do it.

Brother Sheng told me that to make big money, I had to get into smuggling.

Smuggling meant transporting contraband goods.

Hong Kong City had a port and a thriving trade, especially with foreign countries.

In the 1990s, imported goods were scarce.

Official channels could only bring in limited quantities at high prices.

Smuggled goods, however, were plentiful, cheap, and in high demand.

“Gang, you’re one of us. Brother Sheng will definitely look after you!”

Brother Sheng smiled as he said, “One run of smuggling can earn you a thousand yuan—much better than sweeping floors.”

Honestly, I was tempted.

One run could earn a thousand yuan.

That was equal to several months’ wages waiting tables!

My mind wrestled fiercely with itself.

But the more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt.

If I got involved, who knew what kind of trouble I’d get into?

Seeing my silence, Brother Sheng told me to think it over carefully and come to him when I was ready.

I thanked him again.

He nodded politely and went back to his business.

I sat on the sofa, watching Brother Sheng constantly checking his pagers and making calls, and I understood one thing.

Brother Sheng didn’t make his money from the billiard hall but from smuggling.

Yet, I was still puzzled why he wanted me to get involved.

He must have his own trusted men for these jobs. Why would he let a newcomer like me handle such a risky task?

After pondering, I guessed it had something to do with the fact that I had knocked down those guys called the Bench Boys.

Brother Sheng and I hadn’t talked about the Bench Boys yet.

I couldn’t keep silent any longer.

While the pagers were quiet, I approached Brother Sheng, greeted him, and took the initiative to bring up the matter of the Bench Boys.

“They’re fine. Just minor injuries. A little rest and they’ll be okay.”

I didn’t care about their condition; I bluntly asked why he didn’t help his own men but helped me instead.

Brother Sheng’s answer surprised me greatly.