Super Zoo

"I'm really sorry for holding up both of your precious time…"

That old-fashioned and somewhat adorable police officer had escorted Suming and Nangong Yan all the way to the gates of the racetrack. When they parted, he was still apologizing profusely, the expression of guilt unmistakable on his face.

As they were saying goodbye, the officer even took out his own wallet to treat them each to a cup of pearl milk tea.

I won't laugh, I just won't laugh, I'm determined not to laugh, I'm sure I can hold it in… In the end, I couldn't help it. No sooner had the police officer turned around to leave than Suming and Nangong Yan burst out laughing behind his back. Suming was leaning against the wall, Nangong against Suming, both of them were nearly bending over with laughter.

"You… how can you always be… so full of mischief…" Nangong said, leaning on Suming, her small hand constantly slapping his shoulder, as milk tea splashed everywhere from the other hand, her body shaking with laughter, words coming out in fits and starts, "Oh my, laughing so hard my stomach hurts… just now… in the guard room, I almost… couldn't hold it in…"

After all, Suming was a guy, and his threshold for laughter was just a tad higher. Although he was struggling to contain his own mirth, he somehow managed to keep his cup of milk tea from spilling.

To be honest, he learned this trick from a sneaky strategy online, and at first, he didn't expect it to succeed at all. Since they were out on a trip, the outcome didn't matter. If the police wouldn't let them into the VIP section in the end, it was all right; it would just be a small adventure and fun.

Who would have thought, it actually worked, just like what was described in the online guide.

These Xiangjiang police are just too adorable.

"I won't do it again, I won't do it again. The police officer was so naïve and cute, I almost wanted to go up and tell him the truth." Suming took a sip of his milk tea and, perhaps it was just psychological, but it seemed to taste better than the ones sold in Yangchuan City.

I'm a party member, after all. It's not good to always worship things from abroad. But then again, since we've already returned, the police officer and the milk tea can't be considered 'foreign', can they?

"Let me have a drink, damn it, I've spilled all of mine." Nangong caught her breath and leaned in toward the straw in Suming's milk tea, eagerly sipping until half the cup had disappeared, finally pulling back contentedly.

By the time they were talking, the two of them had made their way to the members' seats on the second floor.

As expected from the premium treatment, not only was the view expansive and the space large, but there was even a buffet at the back with free fruit drinks, small cakes, and unbelievably, even barbecue!!

If this were in the mainland, a hundred yuan ticket for the members' area would absolutely be a losing proposition. There might even be people who could eat all day with a single ticket. Yet, not many people were getting food from the back, even though the races had not yet started and most of the audience was focusing on the track below. Only a few people passing by the buffet bothered to get some drinks, hardly anyone was seen loading up their plates as Suming had imagined.

Damn it, there I go worshipping foreign things again!

Nangong shook her phone and said with a giggling smile, "I secretly filmed the police officer. If I uploaded the video on a live streaming platform, it would definitely blow up."

That was certain. But Suming still had some principles. Although he was joking, no matter what, the cop had helped them out and had been very responsible. To have him fooled and then put the video online, how would the man be able to work and face people without becoming a laughingstock?

This was like stirring up trouble between two sides of the strait.

"Oh, I get it, I'll delete the video." Nangong stuck out her tongue and deleted the video.

As Suming led her through the back row, they realized that everywhere they looked people were smoking and drinking, with lots of cigarette butts and racing stubs littering the ground. Nangong Yan laughed and said, "See, not everything about capitalism is good, right? Yangchuan City has a smoking ban in public places."

Nangong hadn't done her homework before coming, but Suming knew that no-smoking signs were posted all over Xiangjiang street and that littering could result in a fine of 2000 Hong Kong dollars; the enforcement was very strict.

The only exception was the racetrack. Inside the racetrack, complete relaxation and freedom prevailed—people could smoke if they wanted to, drink if they wanted to, and throw things on the ground without anyone caring.

Actually, there were no seats left in the members' area. It was filled with people chatting or studying the racing guide with heads bowed. Fortunately, there weren't many rules about watching the horses—it was all about being relaxed and comfortable. Many people just leaned against the railing. Suming simply stepped forward and sat on the railing, while Nangong leaned against the fence, craning her neck to see below.

The racetrack below was a circular track, over 1400 meters in total length. Each race featured 12 horses, and according to the announcement, there would be eight races tonight: two long-distance races of 2200 meters, two mid-distance races of 1600 meters, and the remaining four as middle or short-distance races.

Horse racing has one particularity, no matter how long the course is, the finish line doesn't change; it's the starting position that gets adjusted.

Once the starting positions are determined, a large tractor would pull the starting gates to the designated spot. After the jockeys lead their horses into the gates, they would be ready to start the race.

There's still some time before the race begins, and neither the jockeys nor the horses have appeared on the field. On the big screen across the racetrack, the information for the twelve horses competing in the first 800-meter race is already scrolling, and the host introduces the horses and their jockeys to the audience in a rhythmic voice.

"Which one shall we bet on? Which one?" Nangong, attending a horse race for the first time, hadn't even seen the horses yet but was already revved up by the atmosphere on site, tugging at Suming, extremely excited.

"Calm down, calm down, you're about to bubble at the nose."

"I am not." Nangong couldn't help but touch her nose anyway.

Suming turned on his phone's camera and 4G network, connecting to a video call with Wang Hao, who was holding a stack of files in his hand, presumably the resumes of candidates applying for a broadcasting position.

"You sure seem to be having fun, man. Holy cow, are you watching football?"

Through Suming's phone camera, one could just make out the large grassy expanse of the racetrack, and Wang Hao mistook it for a soccer field.

"I'm at the racecourse. Don't say I'm not loyal, there are twelve horses in total. You tell me which one you fancy, and I'll place a bet for you," Suming chuckled as he pointed the camera at the distant big screen.

"I can't see the names at all! Here's the deal, bet on the one with the coolest name for me, five hundred bucks!"

The coolest name? Suming went over them one by one, from top to bottom: Mount Chang Storm, Thunderbolt Rifle, Bailiwang, Born to Wealth... Ah, this one's cool, it's called 'Governor's Scepter'!

"Alright, if it wins, it's yours; if not, it's on me."

After hanging up the phone, a small commotion arose on the track below, as many tourists and gamblers left their seats and surged toward the small track next to the field.

The jockeys finally led their horses out for an appearance, casually walking in the exhibition area to the left of the field, accepting the final inspection from the gamblers, who could take this last chance to observe the condition of the horses and jockeys in order to finalize their bets.

A racehorse's performance is greatly affected by its condition before the start of the race. A horse that usually performs very well may lag behind if it looks lethargic before the race; conversely, even a normally poorly performing horse can cause an upset if it is in high spirits.

There's a difference between animals and humans. Humans can rely on various scientific methods to minimize the effects of their condition, but animals can't. They are wholly influenced by their state due to their nature.

Many of the gamblers in the members' area also left, groups of two or three descending the steps along the side to go downstairs and check out the horses. Suming and Nangong squeezed into the crowds below, and saw that these racehorses were a world apart from the horses one might see in a normal zoo used for photo opportunities; each one sported a fine coat and a robust figure, and for the race, they had even received a fresh trim of their mane on their heads and had their tails neatly groomed, fluttering in the wind like a soft fabric conditioner commercial.

The jockeys, however, didn't look quite as good, most of them were quite handsome but, to reduce the horses' load, all had two things in common: first, they were skinny; second, they were relatively short. As thin as they could be, as short as they could be.

If someone like Suming stood among them, he would definitely be considered tall and strong.

"So handsome, so handsome!" Nangong, being bold, stuck her head out and got close to a black horse named 'Great Joy', snapped a quick selfie, and excitedly posted it to her Moments, completely forgetting the original purpose of her visit.

Actually, remembering the original purpose wouldn't have done much good; they had come down to observe the condition of the horses, but Nangong didn't know the first thing about horses, and neither did Suming, who similarly lacked knowledge about horse conformation. It was difficult for them to discern the condition of a horse just by looking into its eyes or such.

But he had spiritual power.

Spiritual power whooshed out, encompassing all twelve horses.

Racing is similar to human athletic competitions; for instance, in the Olympic 110-meter hurdles, the athletes themselves cannot be certain of the outcome. Even someone as formidable as Liu Xiang or as fly as Bolt wouldn't dare guarantee their placement before the race has started. Find more to read at empire

However, as 'athletes' competing in the same event, they do have some understanding of their own condition and a rough idea of their opponents.

Just like Liu Xiang might feel his condition is quite good on a given day, and there aren't too many strong competitors present, he wouldn't guarantee first place, but he would still be confident of making the top three.

The situation now was similar; the moment the horses made contact with the spiritual power, their large eyes all turned a few times, they flicked their elegant tails, and turned their heads curiously to look at Suming.

"How are you feeling?"

"How do you feel today?"

"Do you feel confident?"

"What? You're brimming with power, eager for action? Cut the crap, I just looked at the race predictions, and nobody's betting on you..."

"Mm-hmm, you've had good results before, and you seem confident today too, very good, I'm counting on you..."

...

It turned out that horses' intelligence wasn't below that of monkeys, and they seemed even more personable than monkeys. Suming's 'communication' with the twelve horses went extremely smoothly; it didn't take much effort to get a clear sense of their 'self-evaluation'.

The horse that had posed for a photo with Nangong, named 'Great Joy,' seemed to be in the best condition. Although its past results were mediocre, at this moment, the animal was like an embodiment of Ye Liangchen, full of confidence.

"Comrades, do your best, and I wish you all great success!"

After greeting the horses, he pulled Nangong along and hurried toward the betting station, "Let's go, time to place our bets!"