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The middle-aged man had almost finished his drink by now. When Leon Longhair spoke, he only glanced at him, didn’t reply immediately, but looked up at the ceiling as if searching for words or recalling his past. After a long pause, he raised his glass, drained it, and finally began to speak.
"My name is Simon Bai. I’m from Qingdao, Shandong. Used to run restaurants and hot pot joints, had decent money, and was a pretty well-known boss back home! Sigh—of course, that’s all ancient history now!" The middle-aged man shook his head with a bitter smile, downing another glass of liquor.
Shawn Young and Leon Longhair exchanged a glance. Leon Longhair refilled his glass, pausing to listen to Simon Bai’s story.
"When I was young, after graduating high school with good grades, I couldn’t afford college. Couldn’t stand staying in the village either. I always wanted to make something of myself, so I headed south, working odd jobs while looking for an opportunity. I ended up in Sichuan and Chongqing, working in a hot pot restaurant. Started out washing dishes and cleaning, but I wasn’t about to spend my life like that. Whenever I got the chance, I’d secretly watch the chefs prep ingredients and mix seasonings, and I’d sneak tips on management from the front hall manager. After a year of learning on the sly, I’d picked up most of the tricks, but the head chef wouldn’t teach me his secret hot pot base recipe. So, I spent my meager wages treating the chef to meals, hoping to win him over. Eventually, my persistence paid off. After formally apprenticing under him, he taught me the secret to making hot pot base. A year later, I left the restaurant, scraped together a loan, and tried to start my own hot pot business. One of the waitresses from my old job admired my ambition and helped me pull together enough cash to open a tiny hot pot shop."
At this point, maybe recalling those passionate, bumpy years of entrepreneurship and romance, Simon Bai paused, lost in thought. Then he tipped his head back, swallowed his drink in one go to wet his throat, and continued: "You guys have no idea—over in Sichuan, there are just too many hot pot places. The competition is fierce. After I opened my little shop, there was barely any business. I struggled for three months and was about to shut down, so I slashed prices by half, figuring I’d just clear out and move on. But as soon as I dropped the price, business picked up. Within a week, my shop was packed every day. I slowly raised the prices again, and you know what? As long as your hot pot tastes good, people will come no matter how expensive it is. That’s how my shop got popular, and soon, people were fighting for seats if they came late."
Talking about this, Simon Bai’s face lit up with the satisfied smile of someone remembering past success: "Business kept booming at my hot pot shop. After about a year, I saved enough money to take over a bigger place and kept expanding. Eventually, I opened a restaurant, then a hot pot city, and finally a chain. My hot pot brand, ‘Fire Overlord,’ was famous all over the country! It was featured in business, travel, and food magazines. Even the other ventures I invested in seemed blessed—everything fell into place. Once things were running smoothly, I hired professional managers. Then I married the waitress who helped me start out, and two years later, we had a beautiful daughter. Sigh—maybe life was just too smooth back then. Every day I’d sit around counting money, saving money. After my wife had our daughter, she got sick and had to have a sterilization surgery, so we never had a second kid. I didn’t think much of it. But as I got older, I started worrying that when my daughter got married, nobody would inherit my business, and I didn’t want all my hard work to end up in some future son-in-law’s hands, so—"
At this point, Simon Bai let out a long sigh, his face full of regret. After a pause, he went on: "The more I thought about it, the more pointless life seemed. So I started playing cards with other business owners to kill time. At first, it was just for fun, small bets. But then the stakes got bigger, and we started playing high-low. Honestly, that wasn’t the worst—sure, I lost more than I won, but it was just tens of thousands here and there. Then I heard some fellow bosses say there were casinos in Myanmar, super exciting, packed with beautiful women, and you could even get your flights and expenses reimbursed. I’d traveled abroad but never set foot in a real casino, so I got interested. I kept it secret from my wife and daughter, hooked up with some casino agents, and a little over a year ago, I came to gamble at the Mai Zayan Special Economic Zone. Who’d have thought that one impulse would cost me everything!"
Simon Bai’s face was full of excitement as he recalled: "Right here in the Golden Mountain Casino, my luck was amazing at first. In less than two days, I won over a million! I was ecstatic, totally hooked. A million was two months’ pure profit for all my mainland companies—I never imagined money could come so fast. So I booked a long-term hotel room here, and all I did was gamble, like I was possessed. If I got tired, I’d crash at the hotel, then wake up and gamble some more. When I lost too much, I’d go out and find a pretty girl for a little fun. But after that first win, I almost never won again. Most of the time, I lost. About half a year ago, I’d blown all the cash from my companies. The casino manager said I was a regular and let me sign for fifty grand. I lost it in two days, kept signing until I owed two hundred grand, and lost it all in less than a week! After that, the manager stopped giving me credit and sent two thugs with me back to the mainland to collect the debt. I ended up selling my companies for cheap. My wife was so heartbroken, she didn’t even tell our daughter in college—just divorced me in a fit of rage! I left a million for her and our daughter, paid off the two hundred grand gambling debt, and after that, I was like a madman, obsessed with winning it all back, dreaming of a comeback!"
At this point, Simon Bai threw his head back and let out a few sorrowful laughs, tears streaming down his face and falling into his glass. Shawn Young watched, feeling the man’s deep pain and overwhelming regret. Seeing Simon Bai in such a miserable state, Shawn finally understood just how destructive gambling could be—when a normal person’s heart is blinded by the gambling demon, this is what’s left.
Simon Bai wiped his tears away, sighed deeply, and continued: "After I lost all my money and property, the casino manager refused to give me any more credit. I begged him, but he just said, ‘What would you pay with?’ That’s when it hit me—I had nothing left. My house, my companies, my wife and daughter—everything I’d ever had was gone!"
As he spoke, Simon Bai’s hands shook as he poured himself another glass of ‘Liquor King.’ Head bowed, tears dripped into his cup. He raised his hand, drained the drink, and slammed the glass down: "I’m too ashamed to go back, too ashamed to face my family, can’t go back to the mainland. Luckily, a gambling buddy took pity on me and gave me a few hundred yuan, so I bought these tools and now scrape by shining shoes here. I don’t hope for anything anymore. My best outcome is to grow old alone in this place. Maybe one day, if there’s some unrest, I’ll just die here, my body left on the street—who knows? Sigh—maybe this is heaven’s punishment for me!"
Simon Bai’s story left Shawn Young deeply shaken. Sure, he’d heard about the dangers of gambling on TV and in magazines, but it never felt this real. Listening to Simon Bai—a middle-aged man who’d lost everything to gambling—tell his story face-to-face, Shawn couldn’t stay indifferent. Even Leon Longhair, who always thought of himself as tough, couldn’t help but feel secretly moved.