24. The Astronomical Bill

“He’s still not out after all this time?” Zhang Peng sat on the curb, staring across the street at “Harbor of the Heart,” and muttered impatiently, “That fool hasn’t really been detained in there, has he?”

Chen Ling shook his head. “No way. The whole point of a bar scam is to make money, not to hold people hostage. If he doesn’t have enough money, they’ll definitely let him call someone to help foot the bill.”

“If you hadn’t told me, I’d never have known something like a bar scam even existed,” Zhang Peng said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve really learned something today!”

Chen Ling laughed. “Baozi was right about one thing: you’re like a well-fed man who can’t understand what it’s like to go hungry. With your looks and status, you have girls lining up to throw themselves at you! But what about ordinary guys like Baozi? You’ve already taken all the best picks, so of course there’s nothing left for them...”

“Once you’re desperate enough, forget beautiful women—even a sow starts to look appealing!”

“Pfft—hahaha!” Zhang Peng spewed his drink, laughing so hard he slapped his thigh.

Beside them, Bu Chunsheng scratched his head and smiled wryly.

They had gone through Bao Zhenhai’s chat logs and learned he’d arranged to meet someone at “Harbor of the Heart.” When they couldn’t find it on the digital map, they searched online and immediately found a slew of posts on the local Linjiang forums exposing the bar’s scam tactics. Chen Ling explained the concept of bar scams to Zhang Peng, and following that trail, they’d made their way here.

When the three arrived, they saw Bao Zhenhai go in with a woman. So they waited, and waited, and waited. Over an hour had passed, and still, there was no sign of him.

“Baozi bragged to that woman about how much he’s earning; she’s bound to go after him for everything he’s worth...” Chen Ling analyzed. “Usually, bar scammers judge a target’s spending power, then set the scam amount right at the edge of what the victim can handle. Just enough that he’ll consider it a painful lesson, but not enough to report it to the police.”

Zhang Peng grinned. “How do you know so much about this, Old Chen? I’m starting to suspect you’ve done it before!”

Chen Ling replied as if it were obvious, “It’s simple! Because if it were me, that’s exactly how I’d do it. Think about it—if your target can only afford a thousand, and you try to scam him for twenty thousand, he’ll have no choice but to call the police. That’s not what they want.”

“But if the target can spend two hundred thousand, and you scam him for thirty or fifty thousand, it’ll hurt, but he’ll probably swallow the loss. And as long as the scammer plays it smart, the victim might not even realize he’s been conned right away. He’ll just foolishly look forward to the next date, only to be brushed off with some excuse and left hanging.”

Zhang Peng nodded in agreement, then exclaimed, “You know, Old Chen, I never realized you were so sharp. Did you always see me as an easy mark back in the day?”

“You?” Chen Ling eyed him. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve always envied you! Haha—”

“Get out of here!” Zhang Peng laughed along.

As the two chatted, Bu Chunsheng listened beside them, sweating nervously as they waited. In Zhang Peng’s words, “Baozi might be a bit dim, but what can you do? Every family has their fool. You can’t just ignore him—at the very least, you have to smack some sense into him!”

...

Meanwhile, inside the bar, the situation was becoming increasingly delicate.

Bao Zhenhai knew his own limits when it came to alcohol. Usually, after a bottle of red wine, he’d be at his threshold—his head would start spinning, and his speech would slur. If he really pushed himself, maybe he could force down a bottle and a half, or at most, two. He’d learned this from being Zhang Peng’s wingman on many occasions.

But now, even the third bottle was almost empty...

Never mind that Huanhuan’s condition was ambiguous—she seemed tipsy but not quite drunk—he himself felt only mildly buzzed, nowhere near drunk.

“This is weird!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Usually, one bottle is enough for me, but today I’m going above and beyond!”

Huanhuan, leaning in close to him, sighed inwardly at his words. She knew it was about time to wrap things up; if she dragged it out any longer, even a fool would start to sense something was off.

With a coquettish laugh, she said, “Maybe it’s because, when drinking with a true friend, a thousand cups isn’t enough?”

“Haha!” Bao Zhenhai nodded, teasing, “I’d rather you get drunk on my company than on the wine itself.”

Huanhuan propped her head on her hand and murmured, “Now that you mention it, I really do feel a bit light-headed. Why don’t we call it a night?”

“Sure!” Bao Zhenhai perked up, thinking they could finally move on to the main event. He hurriedly waved for the waiter. “Check, please!”

The waiter, who had been standing nearby, nodded and walked over. Huanhuan straightened up, began adjusting her clothes, and picked up her purse.

“Sir, your total is 27,256 yuan. Will you be paying by card or cash?” The waiter returned, laying the bill in front of Bao Zhenhai.

Bao Zhenhai blinked in disbelief and snatched up the bill. “What? That much? Is this wine or liquid gold?”

The waiter silently pointed to the bill. The prices were clear: 8,880 yuan per bottle of red wine, three bottles in total, and snacks and fruit platters at 88 yuan each—seven in all.

“Hiss—” Bao Zhenhai panicked. Sobered up instantly, he could only say, “Let me see the bottles! What kind of wine could possibly be worth that much?”

“Certainly, sir.” The waiter, prepared for this, handed him the bottle.

But there wasn’t a single word in Chinese—or even English—on the label, only some language he couldn’t decipher.

The waiter continued, “Sir, all our wines are top-tier imports from Médoc, the same region as Lafite.”

At the mention of “Lafite,” Bao Zhenhai’s resistance crumbled. He had never imagined such an unassuming bar would serve wine this expensive!

“I’m sorry,” Huanhuan chimed in at just the right moment. “It’s my first time here too; I had no idea the wine would cost so much...”

“It’s not your fault,” Bao Zhenhai consoled her, though his insides were churning.

He’d finally met a girl like this, the mood tonight was perfect, and he was so close to sealing the deal—only to be tripped up at the final hurdle.

After thinking it over, he managed, “Wait a bit. I didn’t bring enough money. I’ll have someone send it over.”

“Of course, sir.” The waiter nodded and left.

Huanhuan asked, “Didn’t you say you made a lot of money this month?”

“Sigh, don’t mention it. I did, but it hasn’t been paid out yet. It’s my fault for not thinking it through—I thought I brought enough. But don’t worry, my friends will send the money. We’ve made over a million in profit this month.” Bao Zhenhai, still oblivious to the scam, focused on reassuring Huanhuan—still showing off even now.

He pulled out his phone, flustered, and started frantically messaging Chen Ling.

“Ha, here it comes!” Across the street, Chen Ling laughed as he looked at his phone. “Sure enough, he’s being fleeced—asking me to transfer money!”

Zhang Peng craned his neck to look at the screen and snorted, “Twenty thousand? Didn’t he already take ten thousand this afternoon? Now that’s what I call a real sucker!”

“Let’s go save our family fool!” Chen Ling beckoned, and the three of them crossed the street, heading toward the bar.