Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

"Hey! Feizai! You didn't call me to play games? Are you afraid that I'll beat you up?"

Old Tang's signature American-Popular accent came from the loudspeaker, and his tone was as cheerful as if he had just drunk three cans of Red Bull.

Lu Mingfei perked up immediately upon hearing the voice: "Old Tang?! Didn't you say you wanted to sleep until the afternoon?"

"Sleep your ass off! My Steam friends list shows you guys playing Street Fighter 4. How could I miss that?" Old Tang's voice was filled with a sense of justice. "Quick, quick, pull me into the room. I'm going to teach you a lesson!"

Ye Fan shook his head helplessly, clicked on the online mode, and pulled Lao Tang's ID "DragonSlayer" into the room.

The screen flashed, and the fourth player joined in - Old Tang's Ken, with a red headband fluttering and fists burning with fire. He stood arrogantly in the center of the ring and made a provocative "Comeon" gesture.

"Feizai, I heard you've been practicing Chun-Li lately?" Old Tang chuckled. "Don't cry later."

Lu Mingfei rolled his eyes. "That's not what you said last time when you were kicked into a sieve by Chun-Li's Hundred Ripping Kicks."

"My controller is out of battery!"

Old Tang immediately made an excuse.

Chu Zihang interjected calmly: "You are using a keyboard."

"...Brother Chu, could you please stop ruining things?"

"Stop making noise, it's my turn to perform!"

Ye Fan roared confidently, his face full of domineering aura, even more confident than when he chopped Death Pool.

"Round 1——Fight!"

On the TV screen, the classic BGM of "Street Fighter 4" sounded, Lu Mingfei's Chun-Li was still jumping around, Chu Zihang's Gouki was still silent as the god of death, and Ye Fan's Ryu was still as steady as an old dog, standing there motionless.

"Young Master Ye, why don't you move!"

Old Tang's voice came from the loudspeaker, full of teasing.

Ye Fan frowned, staring at the handle intently, his fingers pressing a few times stiffly: "Is this joystick broken? Why can't my Long just walk?"

Lu Mingfei: "Brother Fan...you pressed the direction key, not the attack key."

Ye Fan: "Is there a difference?"

There was silence.

Chu Zihang sighed and started with an "Instant Hell Kill". Gouki instantly flashed in front of Long and used a series of combos to clear Ye Fan's health bar.

"KO!"

Ye Fan: "..."

"Hahahahahahaha!" Old Tang laughed until his voice cracked. "Young Master Ye, your operation is slower than the old lady downstairs playing mahjong!"

Lu Mingfei's face flushed from trying to contain his laughter: "Brother Fan, how about... you switch to a simpler role?"

Ye Fan was not convinced: "Come again!"

This time, Ye Fan chose "Zangief" (a Russian strongman who specializes in wrestling and throwing), thinking: "This character looks tough enough, he should be able to win, right?"

result--

He wanted to use the "Spiral Pile Driver" but ended up using the "Standing Defense" instead, and was kicked madly in the head by Lu Mingfei's Chun-Li.

He wanted to use "EX Broken Gold Palm", but accidentally touched the "Provocative Action", and Zangief danced with his hips on the spot.

Finally, he wanted to use his ultimate move to turn the tables, but he pressed the wrong button and exited the game directly.

"GAMEOVER."

Old Tang laughed so hard he pounded the table: "Young Master Ye, you're no novice anymore! You're the unsolved mystery of the gaming world!"

Lu Mingfei wiped away the tears of laughter: "Brother Fan, how about... you go get us some drinks?"

Ye Fan put down the controller with a dark face: "There is something wrong with the design of this game."

Chu Zihang silently added: "No, it's you who has the problem."

Next round [Lao Tang vs. Lu Mingfei]

After the fight between Lao Tang's Ken and Lu Mingfei's Chun Li, the style of the painting suddenly changed -

"Fei Zai, take my 'Tornado Kick'!"

"Don't even think about it, Old Tang! Watch me strike back with my Hundred Ripping Kicks!"

The two of them exchanged moves frantically, with light and shadow flying all over the screen, and they were fighting back and forth.

Ye Fan was watching from the side and questioned his life: "Why is Ming Fei so good at playing?"

Chu Zihang: "Because he really knows how to press buttons."

In the end, Lu Mingfei's Chun-Li fought back with low health, and ended Lao Tang's Ken with a metaphysical "Phoenix Wing Fan".

"YES! I won!" Lu Mingfei cheered.

Old Tang wailed, "Impossible! I actually lost to Feizi's 'blind press flow'!"

Ye Fan: "...I now feel that this game is not fair at all."

"Come on, Brother Fan, the only fair game for you is Tetris."

Lu Mingfei made sarcastic remarks.

Then Ye Fan punched him on the head.

Looking at Lu Mingfei who was wailing with his hands covering his forehead, Ye Fan gritted his teeth and said, "I can't beat you in the game, can I also beat you in real life?"

"Hahaha…"

Old Tang on the other side of the ocean heard the noise here and laughed out loud in his rental house.

The night was still filled with laughter.

Chapter 12 Cassel

The night was as dark as ink, permeating every inch of Kassel College.

The light in the principal's office seemed particularly bright in the darkness, standing like a beacon among the spires of the Gothic building.

Ange stood in front of the window, holding a glass of amber whiskey in his hand. The ice cubes gently hit the wall of the glass, making a crisp sound.

Outside the window, moonlight poured down like water, giving the ancient buildings a layer of silver glow.

In the distance, students walked in groups of two or three across the central square, their laughter drifting in the night breeze. Further away, the black pine forest rustled in the breeze.

Ange took a sip of whiskey, the burning sensation of alcohol spreading from his throat to his chest.

He liked nights like this—quiet but not silent, full of life but not noisy.

The nights in Kassel are always like this, retaining the solemnity of an academic holy land while being filled with the unique vitality of young people.

There was a gentle knock on the office door.

"Come in." Ange didn't turn around and continued to look at the scenery outside the window.

Secretary Elena pushed the door open and walked in, holding a manila envelope in her hand.

"Headmaster, here's today's letter."

Only then did Ange turn around and take the envelope.

The envelope did not have any features of modern mail - no barcode, no stamp, only the words "To the Principal of Angers" written in black ink, with strong and vigorous handwriting.

The envelope was sealed with a dark red wax seal with a coiled dragon pattern.

"Where's the messenger?"

Ange asked, running his finger lightly over the wax seal.

"No, Headmaster. The envelope was placed in the bronze mailbox at the main entrance of the academy. The night watchman found it and immediately delivered it to me," Elena replied. "Do you want me to stay and record it?"

Ange shook his head. "No, thank you, Elena. That's all for tonight. You can go home now."

After seeing Elena close the wooden door, Ange opened the letter with a smile on his face.

"Did I give him too much leave money? He hasn't been willing to go back to school for more than a year."

The envelope contained several photos showing two young men sparring in a kendo arena.

The contraction and relaxation of Ye Fan's muscles were clearly discernible.

The blade suddenly stopped three centimeters away from Chu Zihang's throat. The young man turned his wrist, and the bamboo sword circled around his neck like a living thing, and finally gently touched Chu Zihang's back.

"Nice backhand."

Ange murmured in admiration, running his finger across the border of the photo.

The picture freezes at the moment when Ye Fan turns around. The boy's profile lines are almost the same as when he was young, but he has some of his mother's contours, making him more handsome.

He stared into his son's bright blue eyes in the photo, and the corners of his mouth curled up unconsciously.

This is the softness that the leader of the secret party should not show, but it is the nature that the centenarian cannot suppress.

Ange flipped through the photos, which included, but were not limited to, the scene of Ye Fan snatching a hot dog from Lu Mingfei's hand and devouring it.

Ange chuckled.

His eyes lingered on the corners of his son's smiling mouth for a long time.

This kind of ordinary happiness should not appear in the life of a half-blood, let alone belong to the Ange bloodline that bears the curse of the dragon clan.

But at this moment, he just wanted to thank fate for every bit of warmth it gave Ye Fan.

The red phone on the desk suddenly rang. Ange turned off the projection, his expression turning stern again.

"Principal, the board of trustees is inquiring about the postponement of today's hearing," Schneider's voice rasped. "Mr. Frost stated..."

"Tell him I'm reviewing the top-secret files of the China branch."

Ange interrupted, his fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the photo frame. "I will personally explain this to the Board of Trustees tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."

After hanging up the phone, the principal took out a military-grade tablet from the safe.

Unlocking requires iris, fingerprint and twelve-digit dynamic password.

The screen lit up, displaying the encrypted folder "YF" - this was the first report on Ye Fan that Chu Tianjiao sent on this day last year.

Memories came flooding back.