Rebirth in a Shura Field, but in an Abstract Version

019 I'm watching you

After serving five dishes, Uncle Jiang finally couldn't resist getting to the point.

He put down his chopsticks, wiped the grease from his mouth, and exclaimed, "Wang, I really have to thank you. You have no idea how crazy this European Championship has been! I bet on everything in the first few matches, and I lost every single one, it was like the bookmakers were targeting my wallet. It wasn't until I met you that I finally saw a return on my investment!"

As he spoke, he was about to pour tea for Wang Zhe, looking as if they were old friends who had just met.

Wang Zhe gestured to stop him, then looked at the typical gambler in front of him and said in a gentle tone:

"Uncle, this European Championship isn't really strange. All the results are predictable. Forgive my bluntness, but it's not that you're unlucky; it's that your mindset might be unstable. When it comes to betting on sports, if you approach it with the mentality of 'taking a gamble' or 'making a comeback,' you'll often lose badly."

The atmosphere at the dinner table froze for a moment after those words were spoken.

Uncle Jiang's smile froze, and the teapot he was holding stopped in mid-air. Even though he was asking for a favor, being lectured to his face by an eighteen-year-old boy for having a "bad attitude" and being "unsuitable" was still a bit embarrassing.

Jiang Di muttered under her breath, "I told you long ago, Dad, you're not cut out for betting on football."

The man's face hardened even more as his ignorant daughter undermined him.

Wang Zhe, however, seemed oblivious to Uncle Jiang's reaction. He slowly took a sip of tea and then threw out the next bait:

"But now that you've broken even, would you like to know how to bet on this crucial match before the final?"

These words were like a magic cure, instantly curing Uncle Jiang's facial paralysis.

His earlier embarrassment and displeasure vanished instantly. He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes gleaming: "Of course I want to! Wang, stop keeping me in suspense, what's next?"

Wang Zhe put down his teacup and tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "The next match will still be a penalty shootout. Bet on a draw."

"Still buying at a low price?"

Uncle Jiang instinctively wanted to refute.

Keep in mind, the next match is Putá vs. Sibaía. This kid himself has said how strong Sibaía's midfield control is; it doesn't look like they'll end up with a goalless draw. Based on his experience, even if Sibaía doesn't win by a large margin, they'll at least secure a quick victory…

But the words stuck in his throat, and he swallowed them back.

Recalling his own appalling record, and then looking at the calm and composed expression of the young man in front of him, as well as his 100% win rate so far.

Uncle Jiang shut his mouth and nodded vigorously: "A draw is indeed possible. Putaya is not weak, and Sibaia plays cautiously."

Seeing this, Wang Zhe smiled and added, "Of course, the ball is round, anything can happen. What I said may not be right, believe it or not."

"I believe it! I definitely believe it!"

As Uncle Jiang spoke, he started reaching for his wallet, as if he couldn't wait to sprout wings and fly to the lottery shop right now.

After finishing the meal, Uncle Jiang was beaming. He insisted on paying the bill and then hurriedly left. He had to go to work in the afternoon, but there were things he needed to do before starting work, which goes without saying.

Stepping out of the restaurant, a wave of heat hit me.

Wang Zhe said to Jiang Di, "You should go back with your dad first and keep an eye on him. Don't let him mortgage the house."

Jiang Di asked with some reluctance, "What about you? Aren't you also going to buy football tickets? Aren't you coming with us?"

"I have some other things to take care of. Come to my house this afternoon after your father goes to work."

Having agreed to meet again, she immediately nodded.

After watching the father and daughter leave, Wang Zhe turned and walked in the opposite direction.

He did have something to do.

As the European Championship entered the semi-final stage, his initial investment had grown several times to over 13,000. If he wins the next two semi-final matches, the prize money will be substantial, reaching six figures.

In this era, although the management of sports lottery is relatively relaxed, it is inevitable that such a huge prize would be paid out in a small shop at once, which would attract attention and may even cause unnecessary trouble.

Therefore, it is necessary to diversify investments.

Wang Zhe plans to visit several lottery shops that are located far apart, spreading his funds into dozens of small lottery tickets for betting. This way, he can avoid the hassle of going to the center to claim prizes and pay taxes for exceeding the limit on a single ticket, and also minimize his visibility.

After making up his mind, he began to wander the streets.

The midday sun was scorching, and the asphalt road felt slightly soft from the heat. Wang Zhe went into a convenience store, bought a bottle of ice water, and drank it while searching for lottery outlets on the map.

However, as he walked, he suddenly sensed something was amiss.

The feeling was subtle, like having eyes in the back of your head, and vaguely feeling a gaze fixed on your back.

Wang Zhe did not turn around immediately.

He maintained his original pace, like a wanderer aimlessly strolling. As he passed a clothing store, he seemingly stopped casually, pretending to bend down to tie his shoelaces, but his gaze quickly swept over the store's gleaming glass door.

The glass door is like a mirror, clearly reflecting the street scene behind it.

In the bustling crowd, a familiar figure made his pupils shrink slightly.

It was a girl wearing a light-colored floral dress and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Although there was some distance between them, and although she deliberately covered her face with the hat, Wang Zhe recognized the figure that had accompanied him through two lifetimes at a glance.

Song Zhiyi.

In that instant, Wang Zhe felt a chill run down his spine, even more chilling than if he had drunk ice water.

When did she start following him?

Did it start at the restaurant? Or even earlier?

If it started at the restaurant, wouldn't she have seen Jiang Di, or even Jiang Di's father?

Wang Zhe stared at the seemingly quiet and gentle figure reflected in the glass, alarm bells ringing in his mind.

This ex-wife's sister-in-law seems to be in a rather strange mental state lately. She's not making a fuss, but she's secretly following me?

In the reflection of the glass, Song Zhiyi seemed to notice Wang Zhe's pause. Instead of flinching, she slightly raised her head and gave a very faint, very light smile to the direction of Wang Zhe's back, or rather, to the glass.

Wang Zhe took a deep breath, turned around, and walked towards her.

Some things seem unavoidable.

Song Zhiyi stood under the shade of a tree, facing Wang Zhe who was walking towards her step by step. She neither dodged nor avoided him, and there was no intention to dodge his gaze.

It was as if she had foreseen from the beginning that her tracking would be exposed sooner or later.

Wang Zhe stopped two meters away from her.

He frowned slightly and asked, "You're following me on purpose, aren't you?"

Song Zhiyi smiled faintly: "Starting from the time you leave home before lunch."

Wang Zhe: "..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.