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

Looking at Mo Ye's expectant eyes and Tong Tong's excitement, how could He Wanqing possibly refuse?

She smiled sweetly: "Okay, let's go join in the fun."

"Alright, Mo Ye, you drive Wanqing and Tongtong there tomorrow," Mo Chashan decided. "I'll put the basket of zongzi leaves in the back of the car tomorrow morning."

Once the matter was settled, Mo Chashan got up and prepared to go downstairs to tidy up.

Jiang Hui looked at Tongtong, who was touching her round hands with obvious affection, and suddenly asked with a smile:

"Tongtong, do you want to sleep with Grandma tonight? Let Yuanyuan keep you company too; it's good at warming the bed."

Tongtong immediately looked up, glanced at her smiling, gentle grandmother, then at Yuanyuan in her mother's arms, and nodded without hesitation:

"Yes! Tongtong wants to sleep with Grandma, and she also wants Yuanyuan!"

Jiang Hui beamed with joy, picked up her granddaughter, and waved to Mo Chashan:

"Alright, you can find somewhere to take care of yourself tonight. I'm going to take my precious granddaughter to bed."

Mo Chashan was not annoyed at all; instead, a relieved smile appeared on his face, and he secretly gave Tongtong a thumbs up.

Tongtong nestled on her grandmother's shoulder, giggling, as Jiang Hui carried her and called to Yuanyuan, who was following closely behind, as they went downstairs together.

He Wanqing turned her gaze away from the stairwell, naturally leaned closer to Mo Ye, and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

It wasn't a deliberate attempt to get close; rather, it was as if, after shedding the restraint and caution of the entire day, her body found that place that made her feel at ease before her mind could.

Mo Ye didn't move, but slightly adjusted the height of his shoulder to make her more comfortable leaning against him. Then he reached out and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Your aunt and uncle... are really open-minded," He Wanqing said softly, her tone tinged with emotion. "They're even better than I expected."

Mo Ye smiled, his voice carrying a rare softness:

"Actually, the most open-minded person in my family is my dad. Many of my mom's current ideas are actually influenced by him over the past twenty years, and she has gradually become the way she is now."

He Wanqing did not ask any further questions.

She simply leaned against him quietly, waiting for him to continue.

She knew that some words needed to be carefully crafted, and some stories needed the right people to share them with.

"I've been thinking about something," Mo Ye began, his tone as if he were discussing something very ordinary.

"If Tongtong skips school to play games at internet cafes in third grade, would you and I support her?"

He Wanqing was slightly taken aback.

She had never seriously considered this question.

Her daughter is only three years old, and she's considering early childhood picture books, balanced nutrition, and whether to enroll her in too many extracurricular classes... Third grade?

Skipping class?

Playing games?

She honestly said, "I estimate... I won't be able to provide support."

She didn't say "I don't support it," but "I can't support it" is the answer.

She paused, then suddenly realized: "You mean..."

"You guessed right." Mo Ye's lips curled up slightly, but his eyes held a complex emotion. "My dad did it. No one in the whole village, the whole school, or my whole family supported me. Only him."

He Wanqing looked at him quietly.

She knew all too well how deeply the saying "Of all things, only studying is noble" was ingrained in the bones of countless Chinese parents.

She herself grew up with such expectations, and even after obtaining a doctorate and achieving worldly success, she never truly questioned the feasibility of that path.

Mo Ye never smokes, but at this moment he suddenly felt an urge to smoke one.

It's not an addiction, it's just that there are some past events that I dare to recount calmly only with the help of a wisp of smoke.

"In third grade, a classmate took me to an internet cafe for the first time. Have you ever played those kinds of games?"

The visuals aren't sophisticated, and the plot isn't complicated, but for a ten-year-old, it's a whole different world.

"After winning my first 5v5 match, my palms were sweaty, and my heart was pounding like I'd just run 800 meters."

He Wanqing did not interrupt.

"At first, I just went to play after school, but later I skipped class to play. Once, I was caught by the teacher and called home. My grandfather didn't say a word and waited for me at the alley entrance with a stick."

That beating really hurt; it tore my skin and left it bleeding. He paused, his tone still calm.

"But I was defiant at the time, and even after being beaten, I still went the next day."

"My mother was so angry that she cried, and my grandfather almost broke the stick. The whole village thought that the Mo family had produced a spendthrift son."

Do you know that feeling?

"You're walking down the street, and people are pointing and whispering behind your back, saying, 'That's him, always spending his days in internet cafes, what a waste of his life.'"

He Wanqing gently took his hand.

She knew the real turning point was yet to come.

"Later, my dad came back from his business trip." Mo Ye slowed down his speech at this point.

It was just an ordinary day.

As usual, I slipped out of the school gate during my lunch break and went into that internet cafe.

The battle on the screen was in full swing, and I was completely focused, typing away on the keyboard.

Then, I saw the person standing behind me in the reflection at the edge of the screen.

My dad!

I still remember the feeling of that moment; blood rushed from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and then surged back to my heart.

I practically jumped up from my chair, my headphones slipping off.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Only one thought crossed my mind: It's over.

But my dad just reached out and pressed me back into the chair.

"Sit down," my dad said calmly. "Finish this game."

I sat down blankly, my fingers frozen on the keyboard.

I don't know how I finished that game. I only remember my dad standing next to me, watching me play, watching the characters on the screen dodge, counterattack, and finally win by a narrow margin.

The game ended, and the screen lit up.

I stood up, head bowed, awaiting the trial I had anticipated.

The kinds of things all adults say: Playing games is a waste of your potential, This is all you'll ever be, I'm so disappointed in you...

"Well played."

I looked up abruptly.

My dad wasn't looking at me; he was staring intently at the settlement data on the screen.

Then my dad turned to me and asked a question I'll never forget for the rest of my life—

"Want to play a game with me?"

I stood there, stunned.

I never imagined that the first time I would fight alongside my dad would be not in the fields or tea gardens, but in a noisy, dimly lit corner of an internet cafe.

My dad clumsily operated the mouse, getting killed by the opponent, respawning, and then getting killed again, almost unable to fight back from start to finish.

But I won with him.

After he finished, he took off his headphones and asked me, "Are you interested in this?"

I replied, "Yes."

He asked, "To what extent can we play?"

I answered: "Top ten in the Chinese server."

He smiled after hearing this.

It wasn't a mocking smile, but rather... a smile of deep satisfaction.

He said, "You're better than me. You've always been quicker-thinking and have a better memory than me. I've always thought you'd be more successful than me."

Moreover, regardless of the industry, being among the top ten in the country is a testament to talent.

You have talent, I support you, and I'll take care of things with your mother and grandfather.

He Wanqing's eyes welled up slightly.

Do you know that feeling? The whole world is rejecting you, saying you're no good, that you're useless, that your life is over.

There is only one person who, regardless of right or wrong, believes in you first, and that person is your own father...