Jin San sat cross-legged on the kang (a traditional Chinese heated ptform), not even bothering to change out of his wet, dirty clothes.

  The box sat on the table, not far from the head of the king. A bright, fiery-red candle flickered, casting an almost enchanting light that illuminated the bck box, which was about a foot long.

  Jin San didn't open the box because something about the situation felt off. Today, he had won. Today, he was lucky. Today was perhaps the best day of his life. But now, he had ended up with a bck box. Bck always gave off an ominous feeling, and Jin San couldn't shake the sense of foreboding. That's why he hesitated to open it. When the first ray of morning sunlight filtered through the window, he made a decision: he would throw the bck box away.

  Jin San threw the box into a pile of garbage on the street.

  He threw the box into the stinky ditch by the roadside.

  He even tossed the box into someone else's chicken coop.

  ………….

  But now, the box was sitting perfectly intact on the table in Jin San's home, not even a speck of dirt on it. Jin San sat in silence, staring intently at the bck box in front of him. He was contempting whether or not he should open it.

  What could be inside? A severed head? Impossible; such a small box couldn't fit one. A dead person's finger? Or perhaps that woman's thumb? No, that didn′t make sense—he had no grudges with her. Why would she try to scare him? Maybe he was just overthinking things. It could be something valuable after all.

  With this thought, Jin San's face lit up with excitement. He rubbed his palms together as if to brush off any bad luck, then slowly began to open the box.

  The box opened easily, without even a mechanism or a lock. Inside, a piece of bck cloth tightly wrapped something long and slender. Jin San couldn't tell what it was, so he carefully unwrapped it along the cloth's folds.

  He rubbed his eyes and then rubbed them again. Was this really it? Just this worthless thing? He seemed unwilling to accept it, so he rummaged through the box a little more, but there was nothing else.

  "What a piece of crap!" Jin San threw the object onto the table and turned to leave the room. He had always thought there would be something strange inside the box, which was why he had tried so hard to get rid of it. He had also entertained the thought that there might be something valuable, which was why he had opened it so carefully. But now...

  Jin San headed back to the casino. He needed to clear his mind, maybe try his luck again.

  The drumstick was only about seven inches long, made of wood. Aside from the natural wood grain, there was nothing else on it. It looked worn, as if it had been used for a long time. Now, it was `lying′ alone on the old table, its worn surface illuminated by the eerie candlelight. Beneath it was a yellow piece of paper.

  Jin San came back, accompanied by the harsh sunlight. He kicked the door open forcefully as he entered, his frustration evident. He had lost—badly. All of his anger was directed at the solid, unyielding door. When his eyes nded on the broken drumstick, he scowled at it with disgust. He reached out, intending to toss it somewhere out of sight.

  Jin San's hand froze in mid-air. He saw the yellow paper. He remembered there hadn′t been a paper like this before. He trusted his memory, but he decided to take a look at what was written on it anyway.

  `Wonton′

  Wonton? Just those two words? Jin San found it amusing. He casually crumpled the paper and tossed it out the window. He believed it must have been some mischievous child pying a prank. He never locked his door because, being a poor man, he figured no thief would bother with a poor man's house.

  Jin San went to bed. He wanted a good night's sleep, even though his stomach was growling with hunger. But from his experience, if he could just sleep soundly, he could skip a meal for the day.

  When Jin San woke up, it was already the middle of the night. Normally, at this hour, he would shake off his grogginess and head straight to the gambling den—a habit he'd formed over the years. So tonight was no different.

  The road to the gambling den wasn't very long, but it did pass through a snted alley. By this time, the street was deserted. Even the shops on either side had closed, with only the occasional sound of the night watchman's bell drifting through the air. Jin San stretched zily and continued walking.

  "Hot wontons for sale... Hot wontons for sale..." Jin San wondered if there was something wrong with his ears. He had walked this street countless times, and in all his memories, no one had ever sold wontons in the dead of night. But the dim light ahead proved that he hadn't misheard.

  "Would you like a bowl of hot wontons? Just made, so fragrant," called out the old man selling the wontons. He was dressed in a worn green robe, and his pale, wrinkled face bore the marks of the years that had passed.

  Jin San reached into his empty pockets, feeling the gnawing hunger in his stomach. He was truly starving, but unfortunately, he had no money to his name.

  "I... I've already eaten," Jin San muttered, tightening his belt in an attempt to quiet his growling stomach.

  "It's getting te, and I should be heading back anyway. Here, take this bowl of wontons," the old man said as he handed Jin San a steaming bowl. The plump, savory wontons floated on top, sending out an irresistible aroma. Jin San couldn't help but swallow his saliva.

  "Really? No need to pay?" Jin San asked again, not wanting to take advantage of the old man, despite his desperate hunger.

  "No need to pay," the old man replied kindly, his gaze soft and filled with compassion.

  "Thanks!" Jin San couldn't resist the temptation of the wontons any longer. He grabbed the chopsticks the old man handed him, squatted down, and buried his face in the bowl, gobbling them up hungrily. He hadn't tasted something so delicious in a long time, and he savored every bite of the fvorful broth and the tender wontons.

  As Jin San was still relishing the taste of the wontons, he suddenly found himself tumbling off the bed, realizing he was back in his own room.

  "Back?" Jin San was puzzled. He couldn't recall how he got here. He didn't remember walking back, and he didn't remember going to the casino either. Everything from st night seemed like a blur. The only thing that lingered in his memory was that bowl of wontons… Wontons! Jin San distinctly remembered eating that bowl of fragrant wontons, and then… nothing.

  Jin San yawned, the blinding sunlight streaming through the crack in the door. He felt a bit thirsty and reached for the teapot on the table, but when he lifted it, there wasn't a drop of water inside. With a sigh, he put the teapot back down, and that's when his eyes nded on the drumstick.

  There was nothing particurly special about the drumstick, but beneath it was a yellow piece of paper that made Jin San's heart skip a beat. He remembered seeing a simir yellow paper yesterday, with the words "wontons" written on it. Last night, he had eaten a delicious bowl of wontons. Now, there was another one?

  Jin San hesitated, but finally, he unfolded the yellow paper again.

  "Longjing," Jin San read aloud, and a ugh escaped from his lips. Two more words. Was he really about to drink Longjing tea again? The thought amused him. He found it strangely intriguing and couldn't help but feel that things were taking an interesting turn.

  Then there was a knock on the door. Jin San was taken aback. He was a poor man, a gambler with no friends. No one ever came to visit him or knocked on his door. But now, there was someone, a young man in his twenties, holding a pot of the finest Longjing tea. The tea was for Jin San, and there was no charge.

  Jin San stared at the teapot for half an hour, unable to make sense of what had just happened. He couldn't understand how the tea had come to him or why the young man had left it without asking for a single coin. "Free again," he muttered to himself. Was he really experiencing a streak of good luck?

  Finally, Jin San summoned the courage to pour himself a cup. He was parched and could no longer ignore his thirst. He didn′t want to overthink it anymore. After all, the fact that it was free was more important than anything else.

  After drinking the tea, he went to sleep. When he woke up, his head felt a bit dizzy, but he still couldn′t shake the odd feeling from the strange yellow note. The daylight had disappeared, and the night had fallen.

  Jin San lit a candle, its flickering fme casting shadows across the room. He sat there, contempting what to do next. That bizarre yellow note kept nagging at him. What did it mean? Was there something he was missing?

  Gold was never enough for a man like Jin San. People were selfish; they were greedy. No one turned down something they didn’t have to pay for, and no one could resist the temptation of a good life. So, once again, Jin San found his gaze drawn to the drumstick, and he couldn't help but wonder what the next yellow paper would say.

  `Gambling House′

  Following the paper's instructions, Jin San dutifully made his way to the gambling house. He was convinced that following the directions written on these strange notes would lead him to good fortune. And, just as he'd hoped, he was right. Not only did he win a hefty sum of silver, but it was the first time in his life he hadn't been kicked out by the thugs. He even got to walk out with a rge bag of silver, all thanks to Wu Laoqi, who said nothing and let him leave without a word.

  Jin San felt a rush of excitement. He had been lucky—luckier than he'd ever been. It seemed like his fortune had finally turned around.

  Jin San felt an unusually smooth sense of ease tonight, as though the very air was fresher than ever. From this moment on, he was a rich man. Rich? That meant he could have everything he ever wanted. The thought of it made him beam with happiness. He was going to thank that woman properly. It was all thanks to her and the drumstick she had given him. That drumstick had brought him the yellow paper, and now, he was going to keep it safe. He would follow the instructions on the yellow papers because they led to more good fortune.

  As for how all of this had happened, Jin San had decided he wouldn't question it anymore. There was no need. All that mattered was the wealth he now had and the promise of more to come. With his heart light and his mind focused on his newfound luck, he set aside any lingering doubts. All that was left was to enjoy the ride.

  In the following days.

  Jin San went to the bathhouse, where he washed his body from head to toe for the first time.

  Jin San went to the tailor shop, where he ordered a fine suit for himself for the first time.

  Jin San went to the shoe store, where he found a pair of comfortable cotton shoes that fit his feet for the first time.

  Jin San went to the brothel, where he enjoyed a performance by the most popur girl in the house for the first time.

  ....................

  These past two days, Jin San bought some dry food and water. He didn't even know why he needed to buy these things, but it was written on the yellow paper, so he just did it.

  Today, Jin San received some news:

  An old man who sold wontons died.

  A young man who sold Longjing tea died.

  A worker at a bathhouse died.

  The owner of a tailor shop died.

  The manager of a shoe store died.

  A popur girl at a brothel died.

  …………….

  The most important thing is that Wu Laoqi is dead too.

  Jin San was huddled in the corner of his room, clutching a pillow and trembling. His clothes were already soaked with his cold sweat. He was thinking about the whole sequence of events, wondering if any of this had anything to do with him. The authorities were already investigating the matter, and all the dead had come into contact with him. Now even Jin San thought of himself as a harbinger of doom.

  The note, that yellow note again, Jin San felt like he was going crazy. He suddenly became a bit afraid to see that note. He tremblingly unfolded the note, and it still had two words written on it:

  `Run fast.′