Stop it, the country really can't fit any more bans on the domestic entertainment industry.

The morning sunlight shines into the gazebo of the Mushroom House.

Faced with Dilraba's curious gaze.

Li Mo'an gently pressed his thumb on the side of the phone.

With a soft click as the screen went out, he put his phone away and placed it back in his pocket.

His face instantly returned to its usual appearance.

"It's nothing."

Li Mo'an said calmly.

His tone was completely flat, without the slightest fluctuation.

All he could say was, "I've succeeded!"

And after Dilraba left.

To appease the group of terrified old folks, he gave a unified reply in the group.

"Don't worry, everyone. My master is magnanimous and doesn't mind."

Once you have finished entering the information, click "Send".

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

After this message was sent out.

The network data was transmitted in an instant.

then.

Those senior members scattered across the country in the groups of Southeast University.

I saw this line of text appear on the screen.

Everyone breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The Southern Gambler was slumped in that old bamboo recliner.

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the phone screen.

I saw the words "I don't mind".

The old man felt the pent-up stagnation in his chest that had been there all night finally dissipate smoothly.

He sent that apology message in the group last night.

I waited anxiously.

Now that we have received such a generous reply.

The old man's tense nerves finally relaxed.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

But in the moment of relief.

Everyone felt a little disappointed.

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

Inside the guardhouse of a remote factory in Shanghai.

Six-Fingered Gambler took off his reading glasses and rubbed his dry eyes.

He looked at the already bright sky outside and let out a long sigh.

This sense of loss stems from a deep regret.

If only we could have discerned the truth sooner back then.

If only we could remember when Teacher Huang first joined the group and posted those long-winded articles a few days ago.

They will then be able to recognize that Teacher Huang is truly a mentor to a gambling god.

They would never make sarcastic or sarcastic remarks about someone in the public chat.

Instead, they had already humbly asked the other party for advice!

That person is a master who can casually offer guidance to a grandmaster.

As long as the other person is in a good mood, even if it's just a little bit of leftover food slipping through their fingers.

Even just a little pointer on the techniques for applying force when shuffling the cards.

That's enough for these con artists stuck in a rut to live on for the rest of their lives.

pity.

Opportunity was once presented to them, but they treated it as a joke.

They just felt that they were blind.

They missed a golden opportunity.

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

at the same time.

Here at the Mushroom House.

The morning breeze dispersed the thin mist in the courtyard.

The crisp sound of spatulas clattering came from the kitchen.

Teacher Huang took off her apron and brought out the last dish from the kitchen.

It was a plate of golden-yellow scrambled eggs.

He placed the plate steadily on the solid wood table and loudly invited everyone to eat.

"Dinner's ready! Come and sit down, everyone."

But at that moment...

He just pulled his hand back.

Suddenly, without any warning, I sneezed loudly.

"Achoo!"

The sound was particularly loud in the quiet courtyard.

Teacher Huang sniffed.

He rubbed his nose, feeling a chill all over his body.

A fine layer of goosebumps even appeared on my skin.

then.

He reached out and tugged at the slightly thin clothes he was wearing.

His brow furrowed slightly, and he muttered something in confusion:

"Am I catching a cold? I've been sneezing a lot these past few days."

Teacher Huang sat on the bench, completely baffled.

He felt that his physical condition had always been good, so how could he suddenly catch a cold in the middle of summer?

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

And at this time.

The atmosphere in the group has subtly changed.

Several veteran gamblers, including the "Southern School Gambler," experienced regret afterward.

They had all sorted out their feelings.

To know.

Although they felt they had missed an opportunity to learn from their master.

But then I thought about it again.

The file titled "My Life as a God of Gamblers" is currently lying quietly in the group share.

Isn't this biography of the God of Gamblers another incredible stroke of luck?

Because of this short biography of the God of Gamblers.

But it clearly records many profound gambling techniques!

Those sophisticated disguises about muscle coordination, and acoustic judgments about the suits of trump cards.

All of it is pure, practical, and down-to-earth content.

The value of these things is absolutely no less than the face-to-face guidance of any master.

I've figured out this layer of logic.

then.

They stayed up all night working on this.

His eyes were filled with crisscrossing red blood vessels.

Even their bodies became somewhat stiff from maintaining one posture for a long time.

But his current mental state is one of extreme excitement.

They had been waiting for Huang Yaoshi's reply.

I was filled with anxiety and fear.

He had absolutely no interest in studying the gambling techniques in the "God of Gamblers" biography.

All attention was focused on how to quell the senior's anger.

Now I can finally relax completely.

These old monsters all pounced on the screen.

They began to study it intently.

The Southern Gambler sat in that slightly wobbly chair.

He found a magnifying glass.

Holding a magnifying glass, I examined the text on my phone screen about blind spots in light refraction.

Analyze it word by word and sentence by sentence.

He even constructed a virtual card table in his mind.

They replicated the scenes from the biography, meticulously recreating the incredible techniques step by step.

The more you look at it, the more you realize it.

The more excited they became, the more their hearts pounded.

Those technological barriers that had troubled them for over a decade.

Compared to the straightforward and descriptive language of the biography, it seemed like a thin sheet of paper.

Just follow the author's line of thought and make a slight incision.

Suddenly everything became clear.

then.

The long-dormant blood began to boil again.

An urge to test these technologies in real combat.

It was as uncontrollable as a volcanic eruption.

At this time.

The gambling king from Northwest China who's in prison.

This land in the Northwest appears vast and desolate.

Within the high walls and electric fences, order was strictly maintained.

It was already noon.

Sunlight pierced through the thick bulletproof glass, casting a square patch of light on the indoor floor.

Chen Sihai was sitting in the computer room.

He stared intently at the biography of the God of Gamblers.

The screen backlight illuminated his angular face.

His breathing became rapid.

Clenched fists.

Chen Sihai's mind was filled with the gambling games described in the short story.

That kind of composure that turns the tide with subtle actions.

It resonated with a sense of dread in him, a former king.

Now his inner desires are growing wildly.

He didn't want to wear this prison uniform anymore, facing the cold iron bars day after day.

He couldn't wait to break out of prison and cause a ruckus!