Super Zoo

In Xiangjiang, horse racing has a history of over 100 years. Initially, it was a purely competitive sport among jockeys and between horse owners, with bets limited to a bottle of champagne or a dinner. However, as the economy of Xiangjiang soared, horse racing gradually evolved into a professional sport, becoming integrated into the lives of the people. Over one-third of the population in Xiangjiang are horse-racing enthusiasts, making it a stylish leisure and social activity, and one of the most representative aspects of Xiangjiang culture.

It also brings about considerable economic benefits.

The most profitable industry in Xiangjiang is not filmmaking or entertainment, not manufacturing, not even import and export trade, but legal gambling!

Out of all forms of gambling, betting on horses and the Mark Six Lottery are the most prominent. Just betting on horses alone can reach a total annual betting turnover of nearly a hundred billion Hong Kong dollars. The Xiangjiang Jockey Club, which manages these two businesses, even turns over a gambling tax that exceeds 10% of Xiangjiang's total tax revenue.

No wonder our great chief architect had the insight to propose "fifty years unchanged," with horses still running and dances still going – truly a visionary!

The Happy Valley Racecourse, also known as the Happy Valley Racetrack, is the first professional racetrack in Xiangjiang. It's located in the bustling Wan Chai District and surrounded by dense skyscrapers. Due to the night races happening today, traffic near Happy Valley is extremely congested. Suming and Nangong Yan, sitting in a taxi, are less than a kilometer away from the main gate of the Happy Valley racetrack, but the road is completely blocked.

The taxi driver inches forward with the traffic, grumbling about the congestion in Cantonese.

The streets are crowded with people, all heading towards the main entrance of the Happy Valley racetrack. After inching along for over ten minutes without even covering a hundred meters, Suming simply hands the driver some Hong Kong bills and then, pulling Nangong, decides to proceed on foot.

The night at Happy Valley is brightly lit; the surrounding area packed with upscale residential blocks and high-end hotels. Nearly half the pedestrians are foreigners, and as they walk along, several buildings feel strangely familiar.

"They say lots of TV dramas and movies are filmed here at Happy Valley, maybe we'll run into a celebrity!" Nangong Yan says with a giggle, looking around excitedly.

"That's very possible. This place is crawling with celebrities; many of Xiangjiang's stars like to gamble on horses, and I think Jacky is even a member of the Horse Club."

Following the crowd on foot, they finally arrive at the entrance of the Happy Valley racetrack. On both sides of the entrance, there are rows of betting terminals for buying horses and betting on the Mark Six. If one does not wish to buy a ticket and enter, they can place bets right at the terminals. Outside, it's easy to listen clearly to the live race commentary, and with a good vantage point, one might even see the live broadcast on the big screens inside the racetrack.

However, since they've come all this way, they obviously want to enter and see for themselves. The ticket line has already formed several long queues, and Suming is about to join the line with Nangong when Nangong says, "Hold on a second," and runs to the betting terminal to fiddle with it.

"We should go in and check out the horses' conditions before placing our bets," Suming remarks curiously.

"No, no, I'm buying Mark Six!" Nangong takes two lottery tickets from the ticket dispenser, grins at Suming, and says, "If I hit the jackpot, I'll take care of you, brother!"

"Guess I'm out of luck for this lifetime then," Suming laughs. While he's somewhat confident about betting on horses, when it comes to Mark Six, not even God can guarantee who will win.

"You never know. Let's go, buy the tickets now."

There are two types of admission tickets for the racetrack: a general admission fee of 10 Hong Kong dollars, which visitors like Suming from the mainland can access for free by presenting their Mainland Travel Permit for Hong Kong and Macao Residents;

the other is called "Tourist Badge," costing 100 Hong Kong dollars, granting access to the "Members' Enclosure." The facilities and the view from the Members' Enclosure are much better than those from the general admission area, offering a full view of the entire racecourse.

Because of the delay in buying lottery tickets, by the time they went to purchase admission tickets, the Members' Enclosure tickets were already sold out, with only general admission tickets available.

Upon hearing that there were no tickets left, Nangong pouted and asked Suming, "What do we do now? Should we buy tickets at a higher price from someone else? Do you think there are scalpers here?"

"I doubt it," Suming shakes his head and looks around. Police officers are patrolling almost everywhere around the entrance of the racetrack.

During Suming's first visit to Xiangjiang, he experienced firsthand how strictly the police enforced the laws – a taxi driver had been fined by a female traffic officer for an illegal parking violation in an unattended corner of the airport, all in less than ten seconds.

Interestingly, the driver kept cursing and urging the officer to hurry up with the ticket.

In such a high-profile venue as Happy Valley, with so many patrolling officers around, it's unlikely scalpers would have room to operate.

Even if there were scalpers, Suming wouldn't want to buy tickets from them. He hated ticket resellers. They disrupt the normal market order, making it difficult for the sick to get doctor's appointments and for home-goers to find tickets, ultimately scamming ordinary people.

"So, what do we do?"

"Let me think..." Suming scratches his head, recalling a travel guide to Xiangjiang he had read.

There's a risky method they could try.

"Did you come up with a plan?" Nangong asks expectantly.

"Hehehe... Nangong, you look really young today..."

"Huh? Every time you speak like that, it's never good news!"

"What are you talking about? I'm taking you to buy some clothes!" Suming grabs her and runs towards a clothing store not far from there.

"What? We're here to watch the race, why are we buying clothes now?!"

...

They shop with urgency; buying and changing on the spot. Soon, Suming and Nangong Yan emerge from a clothing store not far from the ticket office.

Nangong now looks like a completely different person. She has shed her earlier wealthy attire, stuffed it into her bag, and changed into a pure-looking schoolgirl outfit that seems to drip with innocence. She has also removed her makeup, switched high heels for flat sports shoes, and slung a backpack over her shoulder, suddenly appearing seven or eight years younger.

"Will this work?" Nangong tries to hold back her laughter, looking somewhat uncertain.

"I don't know for sure. I've seen this trick online, and it's said to be effective. Plus, I believe in your acting skills. Besides, it's no problem if it doesn't work; you look pretty good in this outfit too," Suming says, sizing up Nangong with satisfaction and nodding his head.

"Cut it out," Nangong laughed so hard he could barely breathe, "Do you know that just now, when we were paying, the clerk at the clothing store looked at you like you were some kind of perverted pedophile."

This really wasn't the clothing store clerk's fault. As soon as Suming walked in, he started clamoring to buy clothes that made him look young, the younger the better, ideally to make Nangong look twelve. Nangong wasn't very old to begin with, so naturally the clerk thought it was weird when he heard this request.

Thinking about Suming's 'plan', Nangong tried to suppress his laughter, took hold of him and whispered, "Hey, hey, don't you think we're being too naughty, like we're bullying the police oppas? Look at these oppas, each one is both handsome and cute..."

"I'm so sick of all this cutesy soft-boy crap!" Suming rolled his eyes, "And how is it bullying? This is helping the police comrades in Xiangjiang serve the people better! Enough talk, I'm off to buy the tickets. You wait here, and don't get kidnapped by human traffickers, okay?"

"Go on, I'm not really a child."

Suming raced to the ticket counter, bought two tickets for the public stands, and hurried back, handing one to Nangong. Then, arm in arm like a close couple, they headed toward the entrance.

The ticket checker, a woman in her thirties, took their tickets and raised her head to stare at Nangong for a moment, then looked at Suming with confusion, but didn't let them through.

"Is there a problem?" Suming asked.

Hearing Suming's Mandarin, the ticket checker grew more puzzled and turned to Nangong, "How old are you this year, over eighteen yet?"

A flash of panic crossed Nangong's face as if he'd been caught, but then he defiantly raised his head in a rebellious schoolgirl manner, "None of your business!"

Nangong's words were in perfectly standard Cantonese, however. Find exclusive stories on empire

"No admittance for those under eighteen. Please, show me your ID card," the ticket checker said sternly.

Hearing that she needed to show her ID card, Nangong seemed to panic all at once, stammering, "I... I've been over eighteen for a while." After saying that, his big eyes spun around seeking help, looking to Suming.

The ticket checker's eyelids twitched as she stared at Suming.

Suming frowned slightly and, as if he'd just thought of a plan, said forcefully, "You have no right to check my ID card."

Seeing their behavior, the female ticket checker became even more suspicious and promptly stopped checking tickets at their line. She gestured to a colleague nearby with a shout in Cantonese and then said to Suming and Nangong, "Please wait a moment."

After saying that, she turned and left, heading toward a young police officer patrolling not far away.

"Wow, we can actually..." Nangong turned, his back to the others, and gave Suming a thumbs-up.

"Don't laugh, be careful not to give us away." Suming kept a straight face as he spoke.

In no time, the ticket seller came back with a young police officer. The cop wasn't much older than Suming, a tall guy nearly six feet, in a police uniform that was utterly captivating.

He glanced impassively at Nangong and Suming, then adjusted the brim of his hat, "Hello, please show me your identification."

"We're tourists from the mainland, we haven't committed any crime, on what grounds are you checking our ID cards?" Suming defiantly said, his neck craned.

"I'm sorry, but now I have reason to suspect you of abducting an underage girl. Please cooperate and come with me to the police office at the racecourse."

The police in Xiangjiang indeed enforced the law strictly, but sometimes they were too rigid. If they found someone without an ID card during a check, they had the right to detain them. And since Nangong appeared underage, it was even more suspicious.

The officer pulled out a small notebook, jotting something down with a serious expression. After finishing, he spoke into the radio on his shoulder, "Calling headquarters, a suspected case of child abduction at the racecourse, send a riot van."

"Alright, I'll cooperate, but there's no need for a riot van. I'm not some big-time gangster." Suming shrugged, thinking to himself that this was an abuse of government resources. They were just two unarmed tourists, yet even a riot van was being called in—as if the fuel cost nothing.

Why not call in the Flying Tigers or even request the People's Liberation Army to deploy?

However, upon hearing the words 'gangster', the policeman's expression changed. He leapt back over a meter as if facing a great enemy, grabbed the gun on his belt, and bent slightly as he shouted fiercely, "Put your hands on your head!"

Suming: "..."

Now this was just great. They hadn't run into any gangsters robbing a jewelry store on Hennessy Road, but here at the racecourse, this jittery cop was treating them like criminals.

Dutifully taking Nangong with him, they followed the officer to the racetrack police office. As soon as they entered, without waiting for the officer to ask, Suming took out and placed both their IDs on the desk.

The officer studied the birth dates on the ID cards, carefully looked them over, and compared their faces with the IDs, clearly taken aback.

"One moment, please." He took the IDs and left the room, probably to verify them.

It wasn't long before the officer returned, politely handed back their IDs, and said apologetically, "I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience caused. On behalf of the racecourse and the police force, I would like to extend our apologies to you both..."

Suming's eyes widened innocently as he looked at the officer, waiting for him to continue.

"Additionally, to make up for your loss, after discussing with the Horse Club, we would like to offer you seating in the member's area if you are still interested in watching the race," the policeman finally got to the crucial point.

Who could have thought it would actually work! Suming's eyes brimmed with moved tears, "That's what a good people's policeman is all about."

"Thank you so much! Also, there's no need to apologize, I am a party member, and cooperating with your work is my duty!"