IC C4

Chapter 4

“Hm, I thought so.”

“….”

“To be honest, Xie Wei, at first your pronunciation did sound a little strange to me.”

Lei Jun added kindly.

“But your pronunciation is improving quickly. I know how hard you’ve worked, since I’m also an overseas-born.”

“Thanks.”

Siwon replied awkwardly. He hadn’t said it in search of comfort, and Lei Jun probably hadn’t meant it as consolation either, yet somehow it eased his mind a little.

“…Wait, what? You’re overseas-born too?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of like you. Back then my Chinese wasn’t very good. I really struggled to learn.”

“You’re flawless now. I’d never have guessed you weren’t native. That’s amazing.”

Siwon spoke with genuine admiration. Even if learned as a child, mastering a second language to native level was no easy feat. Lei Jun had managed such a difficult task. From Siwon’s perspective—always on edge about his own limitations with language—it was all the more enviable.

“What’s your secret?”

“Hmm… having a fiery-tempered mother? She once tore my Chinese character workbook in half while teaching me.”

“…Not exactly a method anyone can copy.”

“Then wanna hear another method?”

“What is it?”

Lei Jun moved closer, leaning in almost intimately, and whispered by his ear.

“Date someone fluent in Chinese. You’ll improve in no time.”

“…What the hell.”

The words nearly burst out of him in Korean. With such secrecy, he expected some profound tip, and instead—it was nothing but a childish joke.

“It’s true.”

“Forget it. That sort of method only works if you look like you.”

“Hm.”

Lei Jun’s eyes deliberately swept over him. He looked as though he wanted to add something, but Siwon ignored it.

“Half a joke, half serious. Languages improve the more you use them. Especially pronunciation—it’s hard to correct on your own. The more you avoid people, the harder it’ll be to master Chinese.”

“…That’s true.”

Avoiding people wasn’t a viable solution. Silence may be golden, but it didn’t mean refusing even small talk. He knew well enough—without Lei Jun pointing it out—that he was drawing the wrong kind of attention.

“Want me to help?”

“…What?”

Surprised, Siwon turned toward him.

“If you want, just say so. I’ll help you practice conversation.”

“I can’t impose like that…”

“It’s no trouble. I’m not some professional teacher anyway. It’s just… chatting like friends.”

“….”

“Well?”

The truth was, this was a golden opportunity. It was nearly impossible to find anyone who wouldn’t judge his broken Chinese and would still practice with him. What’s more, Lei Jun himself had once learned it as a second language—he would understand him better than anyone.

Still, the suddenly shortened distance between them weighed heavy. Siwon deflected with an excuse.

“I’d feel bad not giving anything in return.”

“Such a stickler. Fine, then cook me something good. You like cooking, don’t you?”

“Well… sure.”

“Good. Then it’s settled—practice with me.”

He had merely acknowledged, “You like cooking, don’t you?” but before he knew it, he was signed up to learn Chinese from Lei Jun. A sudden turn, yet not unwelcome.

“…Alright, I’ll be in your care.”

“Of course.”

Lei Jun smiled faintly. His foxlike eyes curved beautifully.

He was the one offering a favor, yet looked delighted as though receiving one himself. Perhaps, Siwon thought uneasily, Lei Jun was a purer person than he had assumed. He rubbed a sudden chill off his arm at the thought.

If there was one thing Siwon realized while working in the cage room, it was that he was not suited for office-like work. Though physically exhausting, he much preferred stirring a wok in a dynamic kitchen over staring at numbers all day, crawling with restlessness.

At first, every second as cage staff had been like skating across thin ice. Breath itself had been weighed with fear of discovery. But after months of repetitive tasks, he even began to find it boring. His meticulous nature and knack for mental arithmetic surely aided him.

He checked his watch. Still forty minutes to quitting time. Last he looked it had been forty-five minutes, so only five had passed. Disappointing. Above all, he just wanted to shut himself away in the dormitory.

Lei Jun would be there. For the past five months, Siwon had seen him as nothing more—and nothing less—than a slightly uncomfortable but tolerable roommate. Recently, however, Lei Jun had come to influence him noticeably.

Two weeks of conversation practice, and his Chinese had leapt dramatically. Being skilled at something and being skilled at teaching were different matters, yet Lei Jun excelled in both. Thanks to him, chatting with coworkers no longer felt nearly as burdensome. Siwon couldn’t deny it: all credit went to Lei Jun.

“Ah, shit…”

Lost in thought, he was brought back by the senior beside him tugging at his hair in frustration. Siwon pushed his thoughts aside.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a surplus of chips.”

“Ah…”

Even with a meticulous calculation system, mistakes couldn’t be avoided entirely. Sometimes chips went missing, sometimes they remained. Today, it seemed, was one of the unlucky days.

“What denomination?”

“Ten of the 1,000s.”

The senior groaned. Siwon joined him with a sigh. Though 10,000 wasn’t a large sum here, discrepancies were bothersome. It meant overtime, rebukes from the manager.

“What’s going on?”

At that moment, the manager approached. The senior gloomily explained.

“Ten of the thousand chips extra, two five-thousand chips missing.”

“So where did it get tangled? The total still balances?”

“Yes.”

“Sigh… what if a mis-exchange customer files a complaint? Figure out where this went wrong.”

The manager frowned. The senior wracked his brains, replaying the day. Siwon did the same.

He recalled each cash-to-chip transaction in the cage, who had exchanged the smaller denominations, and who had changed requests midway. His memory had always been sharp, but working in constant fear only sharpened it further. One by one, faces flashed in detail. None particularly memorable—save one.

“Wait, do you remember the customer around 4:40 today? You handled it, if I recall.”

“4:40? Can’t remember…”

“You know, about 175 cm, deep maroon shirt, exchanged 10,000 patacas for ten 1,000 chips.”

“Oh… right.”

His senior nodded uncertainly. Siwon clarified further.

“But then he changed midway, didn’t he? Asked if he could switch for two 5,000s instead. You gave him two 5,000s.”

“Ah! Oh yeah, that’s right.”

The senior’s voice rose with realization.

“Damn… My mistake. I entered ten 1,000 chips, but forgot to revise it after the change.”

“That explains the matching totals.”

“Really?”

The manager, listening, raised a doubtful brow. Siwon nodded.

“Yes. Roll back CCTV around 4:40—you’ll see.”

“Fine, let’s check.”

The manager went to the monitors while Siwon and his senior recounted the chips once more.

Soon, the manager returned, bewildered.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Spot on—4:40 transaction.”

“We’ve double-checked too. Same conclusion. Totals consistent.”

“I’ll correct the records. Just be more careful next time.”

“Yes, sorry.”

With his apology, the matter ended. Siwon swallowed a sigh of relief. He thought he’d be stuck past shift change, but the situation was resolved, and time had flown. Finally, quitting time.

“Good work, everyone.”

“You too, Xie Wei.”

Eager for this moment, Siwon rose. His seniors and colleagues filed out one after the other. Just before he followed, the manager called him back.

“Xie Wei, wait a moment.”

“Yes?”

Siwon masked his dismay. Delays aside, he feared what might be coming. Could it be the rumor—was this exposure? Or worse, had they discovered his stolen identity? The ever-present fear stirred deep inside him.

Meeting his gaze, the manager finally spoke.

“How did you remember a detail from a transaction you didn’t even handle? I’ve noticed before—you have an extraordinary eye for detail. That’s the mark of an ace.”

Relief suffused him. It was praise, not suspicion.

“Oh, no. It just happened my station was free then. And the exchange stuck in my memory.”

“Exactly. That’s focus. It wasn’t even anything unusual, just a small transaction. You belong in the cage team.”

“….”

For someone who loathed casinos, hearing “You belong in the cage team” grated more than flattered. Still, knowing the manager’s intention was good, he smiled faintly.

“Thank you for the kind words.”

“Alright. You’ve worked hard. Head on home.”

“Yes. You too, sir.”

Siwon turned away at last. This time, he really was free.

Even as he left the cage room, he could feel the manager’s pleased gaze following him. He regretted showing off. He had thought this level of initiative was harmless, merely part of his cover as cage staff. Clearly, it wasn’t. Recognition might seem like praise, but to a spy like him, it was nothing but unwanted attention. Siwon resolved to tread more carefully next time.

Footnotes

1. Overseas-born (교포/僑胞, Gyo-po): Term used in Korea and occasionally in Chinese contexts to describe ethnic Koreans or Chinese who live outside their ancestral country. Lei Jun’s self-description here mirrors Siwon’s own cover story of foreign upbringing.

2. Pataca: The official currency of Macau, abbreviated MOP. 1 pataca ≈ 0.12 USD. A “1,000 chip” or “5,000 chip” corresponds to their monetary values in patacas.