Shocking! A three-year-old brings his aloof mother to their door.

Before we knew it, it was noon.

Shen Qing pushed open the dormitory door carrying two portions of packaged snail rice noodles, and the incredibly strong aroma immediately filled the air.

He saw that Mo Ye was still wearing headphones and sitting in front of the computer, with flickering lights on the screen, clearly in a game.

"Oh, that's more like it!" Shen Qing placed a bowl of snail rice noodles next to Mo Ye, patted him hard on the shoulder, and said with a tone full of satisfaction:

"You have to learn that kind of thing behind people's backs, you know?"

Typing code in the dorm during the day severely hurts your roommate's fragile feelings and good mood; it's extremely unethical behavior!

He even made an exaggerated expression of condemnation.

ε=ε=(Angry°Д°)ﾉ

Mo Ye had just finished a game, took off one earphone, smelled the fragrance, and smiled: "Thanks."

Wang Jie also came over, took his share, adjusted his glasses, and added in a serious tone:

"Given that you are currently engaged in a recreational activity that is beneficial to your physical and mental health and promotes harmony in the dormitory, this feeding is approved."

But please note, if we find you studying next time…”

He paused, a "merciless" light reflecting off his glasses. "Please fend for yourself and go to the cafeteria."

Mo Ye: "...@(￣-￣)@"

He shook his head helplessly, unpacked the disposable chopsticks, and lifted the plastic box lid.

The rich, tangy aroma is irresistible, the red chili oil is glossy, and the tofu skin, pickled bamboo shoots, and peanuts are piled high on top.

He picked up a mouthful of rice noodles soaked in broth and put it in his mouth, squinting his eyes in satisfaction.

Mmm, it still tastes the same, authentic.

The sound of Ye Qin slurping instant noodles could be clearly heard through the earphones, along with his indistinct urging:

"Mo Ye, are you even capable of this? You're so slow and dawdling over your meal!"

Have you forgotten the glorious days when my apprentice and I, master and apprentice, would sit side-by-side in internet cafes, battling for three days and three nights without even blinking?

Hurry up! Go online!

"Open." Mo Ye swallowed the powder, his words concise and to the point.

"Open!" The sound of gulping soup came from Ye Qin's side, full of enthusiasm.

The game has started again.

But Ye Qin's performance today seemed particularly "dazzling," quickly attracting the "attention" of his teammates.

In the team chat, a teammate (number 5) with the ID "Cold-Blooded Gunner" spoke up, his tone filled with disbelief:

"Holy crap... Number 3 (Ye Qin), your walking posture... even my grandma walking straighter than you when she goes to the market with a cane!"

Are you so afraid the bullets won't find you that you specially drew GPS navigation on them?

Another ID, 【Stream of Consciousness Master】(No. 1), couldn't help but join in the吐槽 (tu cao, a Chinese internet slang term for sarcastic or critical comments):

"Bro, stop it, stop pushing. I'm begging you. If you keep feeding like this, half of the enemy team's MVP badges will be engraved with your name."

The speed at which you fired your gun is comparable to my hand speed after being single for thirty years. It's a pity one hit the wall and the other hit the screen.

Mo Ye listened to the various sarcastic remarks coming through his earphones, silently slurping his noodles, pretending not to hear his master's suddenly heavier breathing.

Ye Qin was so angry he almost crushed the instant noodle cup. He was just about to switch to the full menu and use his extensive "vocabulary" to teach his two teammates who didn't know how to respect their elders a lesson.

His gaze fell upon the conspicuous "0-5-1" score on his scoreboard, and his anger deflated like a punctured balloon.

He reluctantly released the button, letting out a heavy snort through his nose.

The match was close, with the score tied at 4-4, creating a tense situation.

In the final round, both teams were eliminated one after another, and dramatically, only Ye Qin's character, "Your Father Before He Died," and an opposing player with the ID "Mu Feng" remained on the screen.

【沐风】的战绩赫然是华丽的11-4-5，而叶秦则是刺眼的0-8-2。

In the dormitory, Shen Qing and Wang Jie, who had come over to watch the game, couldn't help but twitch their lips when they saw the starkly contrasting data.

How can they possibly win?

Unless a miracle occurs.

The map was eerily quiet.

Ye Qin crouched in a corner, his palms sweating with nervousness.

Just then, [Mu Feng] on the other side probably saw that the opponent was a noob and became a little careless. As he crossed an open area, his figure flashed through Ye Qin's field of vision extremely quickly.

It's now!

Ye Qin didn't know where the inspiration came from, perhaps it was the courage to give up, or perhaps it was the luck of a blind cat catching a dead mouse, but he ran.

He suddenly pulled out a high-explosive grenade, calculated the timing and angle perfectly, swung his arm in a wide arc, and threw it with all his might!

"Go! Any last words—tell them to my grenade! Die, you bastard!!!"

He let out a furious shout into the earphone, as if he had used up all the energy in his body.

The grenade traced a less-than-graceful arc in the air and exploded with a soft "ding" at [Mu Feng's] feet!

boom!

The screen shook.

Before he died, your father used a high-explosive grenade to kill Mu Feng.

Round Win!

The victory sign popped up.

After a deathly silence, sound erupted simultaneously from the headphones and inside the dormitory.

"Hahahaha!!!" Ye Qin's wild laughter almost lifted the top of Mo Ye's head.

He instantly switched back to the team mic, his voice rising eight octaves, filled with a triumphant sense of triumph:

"Number One! Number Five! Those two brothers from earlier! Blackie! Speak up! Speak to me right now!"

Who will turn the tide? Who will save the world? Huh?! Tell me loudly!

On the other end of the game, [Cold-Blooded Gunner] and [Stream of Consciousness Master] were clearly stunned by this absurd ending. After several seconds of silence, their indignant voices, one could almost imagine their teeth itching with anger, came through:

"Damn! (of a plant)"

"Damn it... this piece of shit got on the delivery truck!"

"Winning is even more frustrating than losing, damn it..."

Ye Qin didn't care whether they felt aggrieved or not; he was having a blast, laughing nonstop and wishing he could start ten more rounds immediately.

Time slipped away quietly amidst gunshots, shouts, and occasional miracles, as the sun gradually slanted westward outside the window.

"Master," Mo Ye glanced at the time in the lower right corner of the computer, interrupting Ye Qin's still-flowing review and boasting, "It's four o'clock, I really have to log off, I have something to do."

"What is it?" Ye Qin asked casually. "I remember you didn't have class this afternoon."

Not finished coding? Let me help you, it's no big deal! Come on, keep going, I'm in hot form, let me show you how to code!

Mo Ye calmly uttered a few words: "I'm going to pick up my daughter from kindergarten."

"Pfft—cough cough cough!!!"

A deafening coughing sound came from the other end of the headphones, mixed with the suspicious noise of instant noodle soup possibly spraying onto the keyboard.

"W-what the hell?!" Ye Qin's voice changed, filled with disbelief:

"A daughter?! When did you have a daughter? How come I didn't know?! You brat..."

Immediately afterwards, a rapid series of keystrokes came through Mo Ye's headphones, at an astonishing speed.

................