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

Inside the dining room of a farmhouse.

The criticism continues.

The old incandescent bulb overhead emitted a dim, yellowish light.

The dishes of stir-fried farm-style dishes on the table were still steaming.

The son sat across the table, holding a rice bowl with a blue and white porcelain pattern on it.

The wrinkles between his brows were deeply furrowed.

"Father, I really didn't mean to upset you."

"Think about it, our family has always lived an honest and upright life."

"It's not easy for my wife and me to work outside."

"Can't you just stay home and enjoy your retirement?"

"Why do you have to get involved with that kind of thing?"

The son's voice was full of helplessness, and his mouth was like a leaky box, talking nonstop.

"Now the whole village knows."

"People are talking behind our backs, how can we save face?"

Listening to her son's endless complaints.

Old Niu Tou was completely fed up with what he was being said.

He was eating with his head down.

I felt a surge of anger rush to my head.

The veins on the back of his hand throbbed twice.

He slammed the chopsticks he was holding heavily on the wooden table.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound echoed in the dining room.

This caused the dishes on the table to shake.

Old Niu Tou stared wide-eyed.

He said impatiently in a loud voice:

"Okay, I got it!"

"You already said that before we ate."

"Why are you nagging again?"

The son was taken aback by the sudden outburst of anger and opened his mouth but couldn't say a word.

Old Niu Tou stood up.

He pushed the chair behind him back forcefully.

He said angrily:

"I'm not eating anymore!"

"You guys eat."

After saying that, he walked out of the dining room without looking back.

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

Watching his wife walk away.

Old Niu Tou's wife was sitting there.

Holding half a steamed bun in his hand, he sighed helplessly.

She felt that she, this old man, was somehow going backwards as she got older.

The old woman shook her head.

According to the principles of a normal family.

The elderly should be worrying about their sons who are working hard away from home every day.

They worry that young people outside won't eat or dress well, or that they won't be happy at work.

Now, things have turned out the other way around.

The son now worries about his troublesome old man every day.

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

Old Bullhead stormed back to his room.

The room wasn't very well lit, and the furnishings were very simple.

Besides a wardrobe, there was only a single bed covered with an old sheet.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

He was sulking.

His chest heaved violently, and his breathing became uneven.

He kept feeling indignant on his own behalf.

I think I just occasionally gamble a little at the village entrance.

What's so bad about this?

In the old ox's thoughts.

He worked hard all his life.

As a worker, I worked from dawn till dusk in the factory when I was young, shedding blood and sweat.

They raised these children, built houses for them, and helped them get married.

Now that I'm retired.

I have a fixed monthly pension, so I don't have to worry about food or drink at all.

There's nothing else to do most of the time.

Every day, besides taking a couple of strolls around the village, he would sit on his doorstep basking in the sun.

So I felt really bored.

That time felt like it would never end.

I got together with a few familiar old friends, played a couple of rounds of cards, and killed some time.

Isn't this supposed to be a little gambling for fun?

They didn't gamble away their entire fortune, nor did they steal or rob.

The more the old man thought about it, the more wronged he felt.

He felt that his family did not understand his emotional needs.

He went to his eldest daughter's house to hide for two days.

They were all very polite over there, not daring to even breathe loudly.

I thought that returning to my real home would allow me to enjoy a comfortable meal.

In the end, he still had to listen to his son's scolding.

In reality, the elderly are like children.

He has entered a belated period of rebellion.

When I was young, I followed the rules for the sake of my family, but now that I'm older, I want to find some excitement and a sense of purpose.

And at this time.

He sat alone in the room.

All around was quiet, except for the clock on the wall ticking away.

The more I feel that my family doesn't understand me.

The more he gets stuck on a single point, the more he focuses on it.

The anger of being misunderstood and isolated kept fermenting in my heart.

He thought about saying it.

Since the family can't accommodate it.

I should go and try my luck in a big city!

I won't stay here.

No more being nagged by my son or my wife.

They no longer have to be pointed at and gossiped about by everyone in the village.

His gaze drifted out the window.

Night had fallen, and it was pitch black outside.

But the more Old Ox-Head thought about it, the more he longed for it.

My mind involuntarily drifted to the future.

Imagine him going to the gambling scene in a big city and making a name for himself through his own abilities!

In his imagination.

He was sitting in a luxurious casino private room.

There were piles of banknotes in front of me.

Those big bosses in suits were all impressed by their own card skills and conceded defeat one by one.

They will achieve great success and fame in the future.

He returned to his hometown in triumph, carrying a sack of money.

Perhaps these are the people who are talking about themselves now.

They will all turn around and worship themselves.

Let that nagging son see just how capable his father really is.

The old man became more and more excited as he thought about it.

He slapped his thigh.

It made a "snap" sound.

He immediately decided to go and check out the casinos in the provincial capital of Yunnan.

One must prove one's worth through concrete actions.

but.

I was thinking of going to a casino in a big city like the provincial capital.

He felt a little apprehensive.

After all, Old Bullhead still had some self-awareness.

My gambling skills are just so-so, my level is extremely poor.

Let alone the shrewd people who go to big cities to win.

Even when playing cards with those old men in the village.

They've consistently lost more than they've won.

Every time, it's for paying tuition fees and giving cigarette money to others.

With such mediocre skills, how could he possibly perform at a high-level event in the provincial capital?

I reckon they'll swindle me out of even the fare to get home.

He swallowed.

feel.

If you really want to go to a big city and gamble at casinos.

You need to learn the skills well.

Without real skills, going there will only make you a money-giving boy.

That's when the idea came to me.

The old man immediately took action.

He reached into his pocket.

He took out his smartphone.

This phone has a large screen, and the font size is set to the highest level.

then.

He took out a pair of somewhat worn reading glasses from the metal box by his bedside.

He slowly put on his reading glasses.

Swipe your finger to unlock the screen.

I opened my QQ software.

The interface redirects.

He began browsing through the various group chats.

In order to learn the skills, he followed the trend and joined many well-known gambling enthusiast groups.

Such as "King of Gamblers Exchange Base" and "God-Level Gambler Techniques Seminar".

The names are all incredibly imposing.

But after watching for a while, I realized...

The so-called techniques shared in these gambling enthusiast groups are all utter nonsense.

It's all just speculation by laymen.

It's just a bunch of keyboard warriors bragging in there.

Old Niu Tou shook his head in disappointment.

My thumb keeps swiping up on the screen.

Then.

His gaze swept downwards.

Suddenly, I landed on a group chat at the very bottom of the screen.

The profile picture in this group chat is a very ordinary landscape picture.

He only joined this group chat a short time ago.

Because I've joined too many groups.

And because I haven't had time to deal with it.

He didn't speak in the chat, nor did he check the messages in the group.

They had almost forgotten that such a thing existed.

That's why he noticed this group chat.

It's not that he knew there were any hidden experts in this group chat.

It's purely because...

He had been involved in all the other group chats.

I know there's no real technology involved.

But this was the only group chat he hadn't seen.

It's like panning for gold in the sand; you've already panned through the first few pits and all you've found are stones.

There's only one pit left; I should at least dig a bit and take a look.

The old man pursed his dry lips.

He was thinking about it.

I want to see if there are any real experts in this group chat.

Even if I only learn one or two truly practical skills, this trip to the provincial capital will give me confidence.

I took a deep breath.

I opened the group chat.