Short, Light, Free

Chapter 134: Rain Man (Part 3) III

Chapter 134: Rain Man (Part 3) III

“I do not wish to be interviewed. The hotel is in front, you say? Can you tell me the name of it?” I asked, pointing ahead.

“It’s a 5-star hotel. You can’t go in even if I tell you the room number. Plus, we’re unsure. This is Beijing after all. Don’t be so hostile toward us, Mr. Luqiao. We’re not recording right now and are just asking out of curiosity. We saw you from afar, getting dragged out of the car by the driver,” the reporter stated.

“So what?” I asked.

“Rest easy, sir. We’re not recording your words. We’re just curious, really.”

I thought about ways to get them to reveal some information.

“How about we get into the car first? We can’t stop here for too long,” the cameraman suggested.

“Yeah, would you follow us so we can chat elsewhere? We can help you contact Xiaoyu,” the reporter added.

The reporter slid the side door open before hopping onto the front seat.

I entered the van and closed the door.

“Where do we go now?” the cameraman asked the reporter.

“Let’s find a cafe,” the reporter answered.

The minivan moved off and I thought about what I could do next to no avail.

“Do you know the law?” I asked.

“I worked as a manager in the commerce industry before I became a reporter,” the reporter said with a forced smile.

The cameraman started laughing. “Hey, I also graduated from public policies and global affairs.”

“Do you know much about custody and guardians?” I inquired.

“Will I be here if I know that?” the cameraman said laughingly.

“But you graduated?” I asked.

“I stayed in the dorm for all four years, skipping every single class,” he explained.

I shuddered at that. I was in the same position as well. Then again, I wouldn’t have met Xiaoyu if not for that.

The reporter turned around to look at me. “Custody? Over Xiaoyu? We’ve tried finding information about her parents but there’s nothing. Are you her sole guardian right now?”

“I can’t divulge that story, I’m sorry.”

“What about her parents? Are you her brother? Her surname’s Pang, so are you Pang Luqiao?”

“We’re not blood-related but I’ve been requested to look after her.”

The cameraman parked the car by the side. “Let’s get out.”

The three of us entered the cafe and ordered some coffee.

When all three cups were placed on the table, the reporter smiled and said, “Do you have Weibo or something? You’ve probably become a hot topic by now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I fished out my phone and was surprised to see 99 new messages.

I opened my app and saw a spike in the number of fans. Over 4,000.

My inbox was flooded. Everyone wanted to know what Xiaoyu meant when she said I was the only one who won against her.

Many tagged me to a news with the headlines: The mystery man who defeated Xiaoyu in a game – Luqiao. His Weibo: @luqiao.

I switched my phone off.

“I guessed right, didn’t I?” The reporter smiled knowingly.

“So what?” I challenged.

“We would like to know your story. Share it with us and we might be able to help you publicize it.”

“Right, you’re a reporter, aren’t you? You can enter the broadcasting station?”

“Yes, why?”

“Can you take me to the competition hall?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to let us interview you.”

“Alright, but you can only publish it after the competition. Deal?”

“This...” The reporter turned to the cameraman.

“I can promise not to share the information with other media companies,” I added.

The reporter nodded enthusiastically.

“Do you have a pen and paper?” I asked.

“Of course. I’m a reporter,” he answered, looking a bit offended.

“Let’s do up a contract,” I proposed.

“Do we have to go that far?” the cameraman commented.

“I draft contracts in my company so I’ll write it. Just sign your names when I’m done.”

“But there’s no seal or even a red pen. What are we signing it with?” the reporter asked, puzzled.

“Boss! Do you have pancakes? Fries will do, too. A lot of ketchup or strawberry sauce on the side please!” I shouted.

“That works?” the cameraman asked, flabbergasted.

“Rules are dead but we’re alive. Take out your pens if you want some exclusive scoops!”

When the contracts were done up, I had them leave their thumbprints on both copies with the help of some ketchup.

I started sharing my story, leaving her parents out of it.

I talked about how I got to meet and win her over, about the president’s decision to look after her, and his illness.

“And that’s why I’m here,” I finished.

“That’s all? Oh, my God,” the reporter exclaimed.

“I don’t have proper rights to become her guardian but I’ll need to see her once more tomorrow. Do you understand?” I asked.

“We do have tickets to the show and we are even permitted to bring an SLR in. You’ll take the cameraman’s place tomorrow and we can blend in with the audience. How about that? It’s the best we can do for you,” the reporter offered.

I nodded.

...

The next day, at the broadcasting station main hall, I disguised myself as a cameraman by wearing a cap and glasses.

The reporter brought me right to the front row.

“Wow!” I expressed in amazement.

“You won’t be able to go the backstage, okay?” the reporter told me.

“This is good enough,” I said. I just needed Xiaoyu to spot me.

Perhaps she would change her mind if she sees me.

The host stood in front, memorizing his script as the contestants streamed onto the stage.

I caught sight of Xiaoyu. She was looking up at the ceiling listlessly.

It was the finals between China and Australia.

The score was 2-2 and it was Xiaoyu’s turn.

Cheers erupted and the host smiled. “This is the last game and it will be slightly different since we have our top two contestants with us today. On the left, representing China, Pang Xiaoyu. On the right, representing Australia, we have Aria. Xiaoyu is very strong but so is Aria!”

I noted that they were both young girls.

I pointed at Aria. “What’s her background?”

“She’s also a child prodigy. Highly retentive memory. Human camera, they call her. They’re on par, I would think,” the reporter threw in his two cents.

“Human camera?” I repeated.

“Ultra memory,” he explained.

Supporters from both sides roared upon hearing their representative’s name.

The host continued, “Let’s have the first three rows of the audience up on the stage.”

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

historical

“No idea.”

We walked onto the stage and waited.

I hid at the back, adjusting my cap and lowering my head.

I spotted Xiaoyu’s manager. We were separated by five other audience members.

The host continued, “There are 63 members on the stage right now since there are 21 in each row. On the left is a numbered ball pit, and I need all of you to get one each. Then, from left to right, you will flash the number in your hands, one after another, without stopping. The contestants must add the numbers up mentally, and the one who produces a number closer to the answer will win. There will be a playoff if they give the same answer. Do you understand, everybody?”

The participants on the stage nodded.

“Alright, one minute to pick a ball!” the host announced.

First round, a draw.

Second, a draw.

“We will increase the difficulty if it’s a draw again,” the host added.

“One minute to pick a ball!” he announced again.

After two draws, Xiaoyu was starting to sweat.

I thought about how to solve it and an idea struck me.

I pulled the reporter aside. “Follow me.”

Seeing that Xiaoyu’s manager had already gotten a ball from the pit, I dragged him to her.

“Do you want Xiaoyu to win?” I asked from behind her.

The manager turned around, shocked to see me. “Why are you here?”

“We only have one minute to select the balls. Do you want her to win? Xiaoyu’s sensitive to numbers but she doesn’t have a good memory like her competitor. This game requires her to add all the numbers but she’s at a disadvantage and might lose if the host were to increase the difficulty.”

“You have a way for her to win?” she asked, looking straight at me.

I bent down, pretending to pick a ball and the reporter followed suit.

“40 seconds left. Promise to have her visit the institution and I’ll tell you the method. Accept my offer or risk having her lose to that human camera. Think about it. You know that I’m the only one who’s ever defeated Xiaoyu,” I said.

“So that’s your only condition? A visit to the institution?” the manager clarified.

“25 seconds to decide,” I replied.

“Why do you think she’ll lose?”

“15 seconds to buy an assurance. Your choice. I won’t have any more ideas if he increases the difficulty.”

“Alright, but we’ll cancel the deal if your method doesn’t work.”

I picked up a number 9 ball from the ground. “Let’s all pick a 9.”

I pointed at the line under the 9. “This is to differentiate a 6 and a 9. We’ll show it to Xiaoyu this way,” I instructed, covering the line but holding it straight up, showing a 9.

“When we show it to the Australian girl, we flip it around,” I continued, demonstrating how the 9 could become a 6 as the two of them looked on, wide-eyed

“Selection over. Please stand in a row, everyone.”

“Pick a 9, hurry!” I urged, pointing at the ball pit before joining the row.

They quickly rummaged through the balls and returned their respective spots.

I lifted my cap a little, looked over at the position of the camera before walking forward with the ball in my hand.

Because my face was no longer half covered, Xiaoyu recognized me.

I raised the ball up, winked and gave a thumbs up before putting my hands down.

I then walked over to Aria and raised the ball again after making sure that the camera wasn’t focusing on me.

As she was about to say something, the next audience member raised the ball in his hand for her.

She could no longer verify if my ball was a 6 or 9. I smirked.

Half the battle had been won.

The audience member then revealed their numbered balls to the rest of the audience. When it was my turn, I turned the ball around again to show them before throwing it back into the pit.

Shortly after, I was joined by the reporter. “Followed your instruction. Too much.”

“Catching the loophole of the game, that’s all.”

After the reveal, both contestants started writing their number on the blackboards.

Xiaoyu wrote down 365 while Aria’s answer was 356.

The host spoke, “Things have become interesting! We have different answers, finally. There’s going to be a winner so look forward, everyone!”

A lady walked out from the side.

“We’ll have our lady pick the balls up to verify the answer,” the host invited.

“1st ball is 3.”

“2nd is 7, so the total is 10.”

...

...

“61st is 354 so the next two balls must add up to 2 for Aria to be correct.”

“62nd ball is 2, which brings the total number to 356.”

“The last ball is key now. Is it a 0 or a 9? Or any other numbers? Doesn’t this feel scripted? Let’s have our lady reveal the answer.”

“It’s a 9, which brings the final number to 365. Our champion has emerged. Congratulations, Miss Xiaoyu of China!” the host declared.

Applause and cheers filled the theatre.

...

I walked over to the manager downstage. “Remember what you promised.”

After the award ceremony, the reporter and I exited the hall and I went straight to the airport after leaving my contact number with him.

All I heard on the way were discussions about the competition and Xiaoyu’s flawless performance.

Epilogue.

Yet another day of work has ended.

I exited my office building and saw a girl leaning against the wall in front, her eyes closed.

It was Xiaoyu.

I nudged her awake. “Why are you here?”

She handed a bank card to me. “Bring me home, Guardian.”

“What?” I asked.

Looking down at the card, I wondered if it contained the 3,000,000 the president promised.

She continued, “Sister Xiaomei shared the reason for my victory and sent me back to the institution. I read the letter he left on his desk and saw this card inside. He wants me to follow you until I turn 18, and you must settle my lodging and food for the next five years.”

“What about the interviews? Your career? Aren’t you the world champion now?” I questioned with a smile.

“But I don’t want to be a star. A mathematician is what I aspire to be,” she responded.

“You sure? And how did you know I’m working here?

“The institution has your university address, and your university has your company’s receipt. A pity I don’t know your home address, or I’ll be waiting outside your place now,” she explained.

“I...”

“Let’s go, Guardian.” She laughed and pulled my hand.

“Stop, stop. My house isn’t that way. Actually, how much have you earned so far? Wanna buy me a house? Mine’s too cramped for a big Buddha like you...” I teased, grinning.