The servant took it and said, "As you instructed, everything is ready. It's all Second Young Master's favorites. Should we serve it now?"

Grace Miller's high heels clicked on the marble floor, the chandelier dazzling and reflecting on the ground, as if she were walking on light. She took two steps forward, then stopped, stepped back, turned and walked in the opposite direction, tossing out, "Go upstairs and call him."

Ethan Young was in the bathroom, soaked from head to toe, water streaming down from his hair, steamy mist constantly fogging up the glass doors all around.

His phone was buzzing on the edge of the sink.

He closed his eyes, rinsed off the last bit of foam, and heard two knocks at the door, followed by the servant's cautious and restrained voice, muffled through the door: "Second Young Master, it's time to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"But madam already—"

Ethan Young opened his eyes and repeated, "Not hungry, can't eat."

Annie had only been at the Cooper Family for two years, not long, and still spoke and acted nervously, afraid of making mistakes. She hadn't met everyone when she arrived, but had already heard plenty of gossip about the Cooper Family.

They said the former Mrs. Cooper had committed suicide, and a few years later, Big Boss Cooper brought another woman home. The name Grace Miller meant nothing to anyone, and when she arrived, she even brought a child with her. This woman took the seat of Mrs. Cooper and sat firmly, never falling no matter how others laughed.

Poor Cooper Family's Young Master, lost his mother and had to watch someone else move in.

When she went back to report, she didn't know what to say, standing by the dining table with her head down, unable to get a word out for a long time.

Grace Miller saw her like that and understood everything. She picked up her chopsticks, not sure if she really was as unconcerned as she claimed: "Let him eat if he wants, he'll get hungry eventually. You go down first."

Ethan Young got dressed, his hair still dripping, wanting to check how the mysterious game download was going. He picked up his phone only to see a flood of WeChat notifications, and couldn't even find the game download progress bar.

A group chat called "Stop Always Fighting" had 99 new messages.

: Damn, he better know what's good for him. If I see him again, I'll beat him every time.

: Good son! That's the spirit!

: Beat him till he can't get up. He's been showing off for months, really thinks he's the boss.

Ray Jones's family really is all in sync.

Ethan Young scrolled up; the content was all pretty much the same.

Bro Charles had already been dealt with by everyone, but now he still had to be publicly shamed in the Blackwater Street community group chat.

Blackwater Street had been under constant development these years, with lots of new residents moving in and out. The group was made up of neighbors from the old street from over a decade ago, dozens of people, all as close as family.

Ray used to complain to him all the time: ever since this group started, there's been zero privacy.

Sneaking out of class to go to the internet café, the owner would smile and say, "The bigger your courage, the bigger your world. I admire your guts, you're different from other kids," then turn around and post a high-res photo in the group of Ray holding a mouse at the game login screen, tagging Ray's Dad and Ray's Mom, with the caption: Your son is skipping class again to play games!

Ray's Dad and Ray's Mom would immediately drop what they were doing and storm into the internet café, chasing Ray down three whole streets.

Ethan Young was drying his hair with a towel when he was suddenly tagged.

:xy, don't you think, after thinking it over all night, it's still too easy on that idiot.

They just had to drag him into it, the topic never ended. Ethan Young casually typed a few words.

: Don't drag me into this, I'm a model citizen.

:

: Shameless! Why didn't you remember you were a model citizen when you were fighting?!

Quiz Masters Clash installed successfully.

Ethan Young was more interested in this Quiz Master, so he decisively ended the conversation: Not talking to you anymore, BBQ Prince, going to play games.

Clearly, the two of them had very different ideas of what "games" meant. Ray Jones liked playing too, whether it was Link Link or League of Legends, he was open-minded and never picky. He actually had some talent for games; back in the day, he could show off on Blackwater Street thanks to reaching Ultimate Champion, a rank others could never achieve.

So BBQ Prince immediately perked up, messaged Ethan Young privately: What game? The new Chicken King Clash? Let's team up!

: No.

: Don't ask, you can't handle it.

: You won't be able to play.

Three cold rejections.

Critical hit.

: Don't tell a man he can't. Come on, if you've got the guts, tell me. Big Bro will get into the top ten of the rankings in no time.

Ray Jones stubbed out his cigarette, ready to face this battle between men, but when he saw the game interface screenshot Ethan Young sent—if that could even be called a game—he was instantly thunderstruck, dazed, and with trembling hands, deleted the tough words he'd just sent.

Then he held down the voice button and sent back, "What the hell is this?!"

Hell-level math olympiad, Huanggang real exam questions, fancy English, physics encyclopedia—this is toxic.

"Is this a game? Can this even be called a game? What kind of misunderstanding do you have about games?" Ray Jones was devastated, his soul in pain, and finally could only ask from the depths of his being, "Is it fun?!"

: No idea, should be okay I guess.

:

Quiz Masters Clash had fewer than four hundred players online in the whole region, obscure and crude, with the constant vibe that it could shut down at any moment.

Once inside, you had to take a random test paper, and only after earning enough points could you enter the second round: question grinding and one-on-one PK.

The game also had a little loudspeaker feature, a small box in the lower left corner, scrolling messages to promote player interaction. But the content of this interaction—

"Top Ten" to "English Class Rep": Let's compete in calculus, I will return this humiliation to you.

"English Class Rep" to "Top Ten": In que si ting. Is this fun? If you have this much time, you might as well memorize more English words. Your English, to be blunt, you can't even master level 8 vocabulary, your vocabulary is stuck at level 4, there's no future in that, you should reflect on yourself.

"Beauty of Heritage": Why memorize English? When you're tired, come rest in the ocean of Chinese culture. Classical Chinese PK, custom double XP, room 24008, waiting for a kindred spirit.

"Study Maniac": Can someone help with question 13 on paper B? Isn't zero or negative one the final answer? Is it the function's restriction that's wrong?

"Study Is Life": Offering a high price for a set of the limited edition "40th Anniversary of College Entrance Exam Restoration: The Most Worthwhile Mock Test Papers." I've searched every bookstore and can't find it. If I can't do this set, I can't eat, I've lost twenty pounds, I'm so upset. The sprint-to-college-exam series is my favorite, how can I not get the limited edition!!!

Ethan Young just happened to be the 399th registered player. This game was really dead to the extreme. The system enthusiastically welcomed him with a little broadcast for a full two minutes, and eagerly looked forward to his future: swimming in the ocean of knowledge, striving to build a beautiful new China, Tsinghua and Peking University are waving at you.

Ethan Young went in and did a test paper.

The system kept scrolling: Welcome to the Quiz Masters Clash family!

At that time, none of the online players knew that this newcomer, whose username looked like someone had rolled their face across the keyboard, would stir up a storm over the entire holiday.

Ray Jones also did a test, stubbornly refusing to give up. For every question, he only wrote two crooked words in the answer area: Don't know.

The result was obvious.

He clicked the submit button in the upper right corner, only to be told his score was too low to qualify for the game lobby.

Ray Jones almost threw his phone: Discrimination! Discrimination against poor students! What a crappy game, I'm a king in the e-sports world and you won't even let me into the lobby? So what if I don't know the answers, at least I'm honest!

So when Ethan Young finished his test, he received over a dozen WeChat messages from BBQ Prince.

You beast!

How could anyone solve this, are these questions even humanly possible?

I'm filing a complaint, I want to complain!

Ethan Young lightly tapped a few times on the screen, organized his words and was about to send, when Ray Jones sent another message: What was your score?

What score?

Ethan Young leaned back against the bed, sitting on the carpet, and slowly deleted the words he'd just typed.

: About the same as you.