The Game of Life

Liu Qian was still sneaking bites of crispy pork, while the viewers in her livestream had already started discussing which province’s residents had the tenderest flesh.

Eating human livestreaming rooms, too scary to mess with.

After exiting Liu Qian’s livestream, Jiang Feng browsed randomly on a livestream platform, curious to see if there were any interesting streams amid the masses of singers, dancers, wilderness explorers, and eating streamers. Surprisingly, he found a breath of fresh air.

The stream’s title was “Explode my liver with 20,000 words today, won’t sleep until it’s done!” It seemed like it belonged to an online author.

One click and he saw only the top of a somewhat thinning head of hair.

To the left of the streamer was an open pack of Happy fatty snacks, to the right, a nearly finished bottle of Happy fatty water, and the streamer himself was passed out on the keyboard.

There were just two sparse comments flitting across the screen.

“One more sudden death, next one, next one.”

“Another author dies, one more excuse for no updates.”

Jiang Feng noticed that the streamer moved a little.

Good, sleeping sweetly.

In his dreams, exploding with 20,000 words, won’t wake until they’re finished.

Jiang Feng put down his phone and glanced out the window, where his two younger female cousins had come out to grab people again. It seemed like Jiang Ran was almost crazy enough to need a sane cousin to replace him.

Jiang Feng made sure the door was securely locked. His female cousins shouldn’t be able to break in. With the New Year’s Eve dinner approaching, he didn’t want to fall before the revolutionary victory.

Bored out of his mind, he played with his phone for a few more hours. In between, he couldn’t help but click back into Liu Qian’s livestream, where she had stopped eating crispy pork and started on fried fish.

Crispy golden little fish, one bite, crunch crunch, the sound of the skin, flesh, and bones being crunched together, magnified countless times by the phone.

“Not bad, but a bit bland,” Liu Qian commented as she ate.

“Qianqian, where’s the crispy pork, where did you put it?”

Liu Qian suddenly stopped biting the little fish, turned around with a blank look, and said, “Isn’t that stuff supposed to be fried and eaten on the spot?” “You little fool, always teasing me, did you eat the whole pound and a half?” came the thunderous roar.

Then there was a chaotic brawl on the other end, and Liu Qian’s phone had fallen, showing only the ceiling.

Good, the streamer gets beaten up by her mother on New Year’s Eve for eating a pound and a half of crispy pork.

If the Spring Festival Gala is boring tonight, Liu Qian will definitely make the hot search.

Who cares about the Spring Festival Gala when you can watch a streamer getting beaten up during the New Year?

That’s how Jiang Feng survived the afternoon in the room.

Usually, the New Year’s Eve dinner is served half an hour before the Spring Festival Gala starts. Sir had a liquid crystal TV for the past few years, and last year, Jiang Jianshe even eagerly replaced it with something that sounded impressive, a super TV.

Unfortunately, this impressive super TV was only useful on New Year’s Eve. Sir and Mrs. Jiang didn’t like to watch TV the rest of the year.

Sir enjoyed raising pigs, and Mrs. Jiang preferred playing with her tablet, so the TV was rarely turned on.

“Dinner’s ready, time for the New Year’s Eve feast. Feng, hurry up and come out!” Mr. Jiang Jiankang bellowed in the dining room.

Jiang Jianguo and Jiang Jiandang were busy moving the liquid crystal TV so that it could be seen from where everyone was eating.

Eating New Year’s dinner without watching TV, lacks soul.

The table was already set with five cold dishes; the eagerly awaited final dish, a crispy apple, was still in the pot, and the braised platter with braised pork offal looked really flavorful. Jiang Jianguo reached for a piece of intestine with his chopsticks.

It had a deep braised flavor, with a chewy exterior skin and no off taste.

“The offal is flavorful, come and try it, everybody!” Jiang Jianguo called out.

No one responded, and no one picked up their chopsticks; each person just quietly sat at their own seat.

Everyone knew what they truly should be reaching for with their chopsticks— the mixed platter of cooked pork offal was available every day from New Year’s Eve to the fifteenth day of the New Year, but some dishes, once today was over, would have to wait another year!

Take, for example, the crispy apple.

As easy as this dish might look, it was actually one from the full Manchu Han Imperial Feast. Easy to make, difficult to perfect!

If everyone could make it as well as Sir did, Jiang Jiankang would have been eating apples at home every day.

“I think the crispy apple should be about done by now, how about I go check the kitchen and bring it over if it’s ready?” Jiang Jiankang suggested slyly.

“No way!” the four brothers protested in unison.

If they really gave Jiang Jiankang that opportunity, he would have eaten half the platter on the way back.

“Mom said she’ll bring out the dishes,” Jiang Jianguo declared.

Mrs. Jiang was the epitome of fairness and impartiality, since her teeth weren’t very good now and she couldn’t eat these fried foods.

Soon, everyone heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

One fast, one slow.

And the aroma of the crispy apple that they’d been dreaming of.

All held their breath, invigorated, gripping their chopsticks tightly in hand.

Even Jiang Shoucheng, who had the unfortunate task of being dragged by his two sisters to tutor them in math and physics that afternoon, shook off the air of despair worse than that of an exam candidate from earlier and his eyes shone brightly, brimming with renewed vitality.

Mrs. Jiang had seen her fair share of grand occasions and, without rushing or dawdling, placed the two plates of crispy apples on each of the tables.

“Swish!”

Several pairs of chopsticks simultaneously reached for the crispy apples in the plates, like swords drawn from their sheaths, leaving only a blur in their wake.

In the blink of an eye, the plates were empty.

Jiang Feng: ???

Was his second cousin a dog? Jiang Shoucheng had bumped him just as he was getting up, which threw off his reach for the chopsticks!

Jiang Feng turned his head and, sure enough, the neighboring table was also empty.

Upon looking at Mr. Jiang Jiankang, he had two pieces in his bowl and was still chewing on who knows how many more.

“Dad!” Jiang Feng looked leisurely at Jiang Jiankang.

“What?” Jiang Jiankang was well prepared this time and quickly popped the two pieces from his bowl into his mouth as one, feigning ignorance, “Son, why are you calling me?”

And with that, the fragrance of the crispy apple wafted from his mouth.

Jiang Feng said resentfully, “Never mind.”

Wang Xiulian, seeing Jiang Jiankang eat both pieces, became angry: “Didn’t you say you had one for me? How could you eat them all!”

Jiang Shoucheng also quite inconsiderately shared his post-meal thoughts with Jiang Feng: “You know, Feng, the crispy apple grandpa made this year is really delicious—crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, the apple is sweet as well, and it makes a nice crunchy sound when you bite into it.”

Jiang Feng:…

“Junqing, your brother Cheng just said he’s going to help you with your math homework tomorrow!”

Junqing flashed a smile at Jiang Shoucheng: “Thanks, Brother Cheng.”

Jiang Shoucheng:.’ ‘     .. Waaaah!!