As soon as Li Jianping mentioned the night market, Li Ziqing's eyes lit up like fireworks. A flash of curiosity and excitement surged through her veins.
The night market?
Her heart thumped faster. Even in her past life, she had heard whispers of this elusive place—an underground world hidden within the ordinary streets of Wuhan. A classmate in high school once boasted about sneaking in. He had described it like some legendary mythical world, a place where the air itself smelled of money, danger, and opportunity.
It was said, that you must have Luck, Skills, Brains or at least brute force to make big. If you have any one of them you can easily make big.
But what made it truly infamous was the unspoken rule that governed it:
"Win or lose, your fate is your own. No arguments. No pity. No second chances."
And behind it all stood forces—powerful, unseen, and absolutely unforgiving.
She had always wanted to see it. In her past life, she never got the chance. But now—was this fate giving her another shot?
---
Li Jianping frowned deeply when he saw the excitement blooming on his niece's face.
"Ziqing," he said sternly, "don't even think about it. That place isn't for kids."
Li Ziqing blinked innocently, her hands folded behind her back. "Uncle, I'm not a kid."
"You're still in school, aren't you?" he countered, raising an eyebrow. "That market… It's not a fairground. It's not some shopping street. There are people in there who'd eat you alive if you so much as look at them the wrong way."
"I won't cause trouble," she said sweetly. "I just want to take a look, that's all."
"No," he said flatly. "I'm serious, A'Qing. There's a code in that place—once you walk in, you're responsible for everything that happens to you. No one can help you. Not even me."
Ziqing let out a sigh, glancing down at her toes, then up again through her lashes.
"But I've heard about it for so long… people say the Wuhan night market is among the top five in all of China. Beijing has the biggest one, but Wuhan's is old, mysterious, alive."
Li Jianping's jaw tightened, but she could see the hesitation in his eyes.
She leaned closer and whispered like sharing a secret, "Uncle, I won't touch anything. I won't buy anything. I'll just follow you quietly, I promise.
Li Jianping still looked uncertain.
Then she played her trump card.
Ziqing suddenly folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Alright, fine. I'll just tell Mom that her dearest little brother sneaks off to the Western District alone at night and lies about it. I'm sure she'd love to hear all about it—should I call her now or when I get home?"
Li Jianping's face stiffened.
"You—! That's blackmail!"
She raised her brows, smug. "It's family bonding."
He sighed dramatically and rubbed his temples. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear…"
She grinned triumphantly.
"But if I take you…" he said, pointing a warning finger at her, "you stick by my side. You don't wander off. You don't touch anything. And if anyone talks to you, you let me do the talking. Got it?"
Li Ziqing nodded obediently, "Got it, Uncle Jianping!"
"…And you owe me big time," he muttered, already regretting the decision.
---
Western District, 9:00 PM.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, the streets had emptied and the last bus wheezed to a halt with a hiss of its brakes on the last bus stop in the outskirts.
From here, there were no signs, no directions—only her uncle's instructions to a silent driver in a private cab. They weaved through narrow lanes, climbed broken paths, and drove deeper into the wilderness. The road twisted and turned, climbing a small hill. Trees loomed overhead like twisted silhouettes against the moonless sky.
"Uncle…" she said hesitantly as she saw the black outline of a mountain and the thick woods surrounding it. "Are you sure this is the right way? It feels like… nowhere."
Li Jianping gave her a reassuring glance. "That's exactly where we're going."
They stopped. There was no road anymore—only forest floor beneath their feet.
They walked for a while until they reached what seemed like the edge of the forest. No lights, no people, no signs.
Li Ziqing blinked.
There was no gate, no signboard, no entrance arch.
Nothing.
Just a faint trail and a single stick of incense burning gently on a stone by the roadside. Its thin smoke curled into the night like a ghost's whisper.
Li Jianping stopped and turned to her. His voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the rustling leaves.
"A'Qing… do you see that incense? That's the sign the market is open tonight."
She nodded slowly, her heartbeat quickening. Somehow, that one simple stick of incense in this ghostly forest was more ominous than an armed guard.
Li Jianping reached into the satchel on his shoulder and pulled out two masks—plain, black, and featureless.
He handed her one.
"Put this on. And listen carefully: No matter what happens inside, do not take it off. Ever."
Ziqing frowned as she examined the mask. "Why? What's the big deal?"
He looked her dead in the eye.
"Because the moment you step inside, someone will be watching you. Always. Every movement. Every word. Every deal you make. You won't know who they are—but they will know everything about you."
Her spine stiffened.
"…And if they see your face?"
He shook his head.
"They won't say anything. They don't need to. But if you ever make a trouble in there, and your face is known…"
"You disappear," he said flatly. "Just like that."
Ziqing swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of the mask in her hand.
"…Will they hurt us?"
"Not unless we break the rules or cause a scene," he replied. "Stick by me. Speak less. Observe more."
She nodded and finally slipped the mask over her face. It was tight, uncomfortable, and covered everything but her eyes. She could barely breathe in it.
> But safety came first—especially in a place like this.
---
They walked for what felt like forever.
Only the crunch of leaves and the occasional hiss of insects echoed around them. Trees loomed like silent sentinels, and the darkness seemed alive, as though something was watching from every shadow.
Ziqing's nerves were on edge.
"Uncle… are you sure there's a market here?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't see anything. Just woods."
He didn't respond. He just kept walking, eyes ahead.
Then—a glimmer.
Faint at first, like fireflies. Then more. And more.
Until, after turning around a bend in the forest path, the trees parted—and suddenly, like stepping through a portal, they emerged into a valley blazing with lights.
Ziqing's eyes widened.
The Night Market.
---
It was massive, alive, and bustling. Red lanterns floated on wires across the open sky. Generators buzzed quietly in the distance. Brightly lit stalls stretched down a winding road, some made of patched tin, others covered with colorful cloths that fluttered gently in the night wind. The air was thick with a mixture of incense, smoke, and something sharper—money, ambition, desperation.
People in masks moved between stalls. Quiet, focused, alert.
Vendors sat silently behind tables piled with antiques—vases, jade bracelets, rusted swords, paintings, coins.
Only haldful of them were priceless. Most of them were fake.
And the game was to know which was which.
Further along, shops sold herbs—roots wrapped in parchment, old scrolls claiming ancient knowledge, even odd animal bones. Prices weren't marked. Everything was negotiable.
Everything was a gamble.
Li Ziqing looked around, stunned.
"…This doesn't look dangerous at all," she muttered.
Li Jianping gave her a side glance.
"That's what they want you to think. But don't be fooled. These stalls?"
"They're just the surface. The real market begins where the street ends."
He pointed toward the far edge of the market.
There, looming like beasts in the dark, were enormous tents—as big as circus domes. Each one was guarded. A faint beat of drums and muffled shouting came from inside.
Ziqing stared, puzzled. "What's in there?"
Li Jianping's voice dropped lower.
"Entertainment," he said bitterly. "Or so they call it."
Ziqing frowned. "Like… theater?"
"More like death."
She turned to him sharply. "What do you mean?"
He exhaled heavily.
"Underground fighting. Not like in movies. This is raw. Brutal. No rules. Sometimes man against man. Sometimes man against animal—Bengal tigers, bears. Even wolves. And the worst tent…" He paused. "They torture people."
Ziqing's eyes went wide behind her mask.
"Torture?!"
"One guy, they said, was tied up and had to survive ten rounds of pain—from fire, blades, ice baths, and psychological torment. The longer he survived, the more the crowd cheered. If he died, well…" Jianping shrugged. "It's his loss."
Ziqing turned pale.
"But—how is that legal?"
Jianping gave a cold laugh.
"Legal? No. But protected? Absolutely. The people behind this place… they don't live by our rules. And people die to get a chance to stand in ring, if you die it's your loss, but if you survive, you earn tens of millions, enough to go lifetime."
A sudden cheer erupted from the tents—wild, bloodthirsty, electric. A scream followed, half-human, half-animal.
Ziqing shivered.
She no longer thought of the Night Market as a thrilling mystery anymore—it was a place of hidden greed, silent cruelty, and unspoken power.
Li Ziqing tore her gaze away from the looming tents and the echoing cries from inside. The grotesque spectacle of underground blood sports made her skin crawl. She turned to her uncle, searching his face in the flickering glow of the market lights.
"Uncle…" she asked hesitantly, "what exactly are we here for? Don't tell me you're… interested in those fights?"
Li Jianping blinked, surprised. Then he quickly shook his head, a faint frown tugging at the corners of his lips.
"No. Never. That kind of… 'entertainment' is not for people like us," he said, spitting the word with distaste. "We're here for something else."
He glanced toward the far side of the market, where a different kind of crowd buzzed around a large open-sided tents in row, soft white lights glowing within each of them. The mood there was entirely different—no bloodthirst, no violence, only murmurs, glances, and calculated risk.
"We're here for stone gambling," he said quietly.
"Stone… gambling?" Li Ziqing echoed, puzzled.
Li Jianping smiled faintly, his eyes lighting up in a way she'd never seen before—not even when eating her food, not when working in breakfast stall.
"Yes. Gambling with stones that might contain jade."
Ziqing blinked. "You mean… just regular stones?"
Her uncle gave a soft chuckle, the kind that rumbled deep in the chest like the start of a story.
"Not regular stones, girl. These stones come from jade mines—places in Myanmar, Yunnan, and the mountains of Kachin. Do you know how jade is formed?"
Ziqing shook her head.
Li Jianping's voice dropped to a storyteller's tone, low and rich with reverence.
"Jade isn't like other gems that glitter on the surface. It's formed deep within the earth, under tremendous pressure and intense heat. Over thousands, even millions of years, layers of minerals—tremolite, actinolite—fuse together into a solid mass of jadeite or nephrite. It forms inside cracks, veins, or even riverbeds."
He gestured with his hand as if tracing a mountain.
"And when the mountain is cut open—when they mine it out—it's wrapped in a thick crust of rough stone. From the outside, you can't see anything. It looks like any other boulder, dusty and ugly. But inside, there might be nothing… or there might be a treasure worth millions."
Li Ziqing stared at him, caught off guard by the passion in his voice. For the first time, her uncle didn't sound carefree and casual. He sounded alive. Vibrant.
"And that's what people gamble on?" she asked slowly. "They buy those stones and… cut them open?"
Li Jianping nodded, eyes gleaming like a man who'd just remembered a lost dream.
"Yes. Some call it the gamble of the gods. You pick a stone—based on instinct, or experience—and you slice it open. Sometimes the first cut reveals glowing green jade inside… and you've hit gold. Other times, there's nothing but grey muck. And you lose everything."
Isn't that… dangerous?" Ziqing asked.
He laughed, soft but full of excitement.
"Not physically. But financially? Very. A stone can cost tens of thousands. And there are people here tonight who've lost their houses chasing the next miracle stone. But others…" he leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper,
"Others walked in broke and left with a jade piece that changed their lives."
Li Ziqing looked at him, truly looked, and for the first time noticed the little things—the way his hands flexed slightly as he spoke, how his eyes scanned the crowd with sharp awareness, how his voice trembled slightly not with fear but with longing.
"You've done it before, Uncle?" Li Ziqing asked softly, her eyes searching his face.
For a moment, Li Jianping's smile faltered—just a flicker, but enough. He turned his face slightly, as if looking into the past.
Then he gave a half-hearted chuckle, waving his hand as though brushing the air.
"Done it? Where would I get the money to gamble on stones worth tens of thousands? You think your uncle's made of gold?"
But his voice didn't quite match the smile. It was thinner, quieter.
He sighed and glanced at her, as if debating something.
"But… I'll tell you," he said, lowering his voice. "Only if you promise not to tell your mother."
Li Ziqing straightened. "Cross my heart."
Li Jianping gave a soft grunt, then stared ahead toward the glowing jade tents. His voice grew distant, nostalgic.
"I was nineteen. Just ideling around. Had no plans, no money, but a whole world in my eyes. That year, I ended up at the stone gambling street in the Southern District. The market there was big—huge even—but... something felt off. People whispered that those vendors only put out the scraps for sale. Those shops, although big are purely for profit only. The real good stuff? They said it was saved for somewhere else. For this place."
He gestured vaguely around them, toward the dim pathways and smoky stalls of the night market.
"That was the first time I heard about the Night Market in Wuhan. A secret place. A market that didn't show itself unless you already knew it existed."
His eyes gleamed faintly now—not just with excitement, but memory.
"I followed someone in—some hotshot older guy who used to visit stone gambling street almost everyday. He wasn't even shocked I followed him. Said if I had guts to come, then maybe I'd earned the right to see it."
Li Ziqing leaned in slightly, the sounds of the bustling night market growing muted in her ears. Her uncle's voice had taken on a tone she'd never heard before.
"It was like another world, A Qing. Lanterns glowing like fireflies, shadows trading secrets, deals being made in whispers. But the thing that grabbed me the most wasn't the thrill of gambling."
He paused, turning to look at her with a soft but steady gaze.
"It was jade."
Li Ziqing blinked. "Jade?"
Li Jianping smiled again—but this time, it was genuine. Full of quiet admiration.
"I love jade. Not for its value. Not for the money it brings. But for what it is. Do you know that good jade feels warm against your skin? Not cold, like other stones. The Chinese say jade holds the soul of heaven and earth. The ancients used it in rituals, in funerals, as symbols of virtue and purity. It's not just a stone—it's… alive."
He exhaled slowly, lost in the memory.
"Back then, I couldn't afford to buy a carved jade piece—they cost millions. But someone told me a trick. That if I could find a raw stone that held jade, before it's cut open… well, that might only cost a few thousand. That's when I thought—I could try. Maybe just once."
Ziqing's heart stirred. Her uncle had always been carefree, full of youth energy in family. But here was a glimpse of a matured version of him—a boy with fire in his chest and dreams in his eyes.
"I started saving," he continued. "Took odd jobs after shifts. Your mother gave me a little pocket money each week, and I kept that too. Over months, I scraped together nearly two thousand yuan."
He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head.
"It wasn't much, but it was everything I had. I wasn't ready. I was going to pick few more jobs. I thought once I get enough money I'll definitely cut atleast one stone—even if I fail, at least I tried."
Then the smile slowly faded, replaced by a quieter, steadier look.
"But just around that time, your mom—my sis—told me she wanted to buy the courtyard house, the one we live in now. She said it was time we stopped renting, time we had something of our own. I didn't even hesitate."
He turned to look at Ziqing, eyes soft but unwavering.
"I gave her everything I saved."
Li Ziqing's breath caught. "You gave up your dream?"
Li Jianping smiled gently.
"It wasn't giving up. It was choosing what mattered more. A jade stone is a gamble. But that courtyard? That was real. A home. A future. For all of us."
He looked ahead again, watching the glowing jade stall where someone had just started grinding into a stone under the bright spotlight.
"Your mom didn't want to take it. Argued for hours. Said it was my money. But I insisted. I said the family needed that house more than I needed a dream. And… she finally took it."
He paused again, his voice turning quiet.
"She really loves me, you know. My sister. She might scold, might be harsh sometimes—but I know she'll never let me down. Never has. Never will."
Li Ziqing suddenly felt a little overwhelmed. Vividly, she remembered that moment from her past life—the phone call that shattered their world for second time, asking her to come and collect her uncle's body.
She clenched her fists.
No. Not this time.
In this life, it wouldn't be the same.
She took a deep breath and turned sharply to her uncle.
"Uncle," she said softly, "maybe it's time you took one shot."
_______
Thank you so much @sonya56890 for power stone. I'm relatively a new author on this platform and don't understand many things yet.
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