Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

Zhou Haibing rang the doorbell.

Ding dong.

No response.

The game sound effects continued without any sign of interruption.

He pressed the doorbell again and again, several times in a row. The sound of the doorbell echoed in the hallway, but there was still no response from inside.

Zhou Haibing took a deep breath, took out his phone from his pocket, and dialed Zhou Dongsheng's number again.

The call rang for over a dozen seconds, and just as it was about to automatically disconnect, it was finally answered.

Zhou Dongsheng's voice was even more impatient than before, almost shouting, "What is it now?!"

"I'm outside the door, come and open it for me."

Zhou Haibing's voice was so calm that it didn't sound like he was talking to his son.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Zhou Dongsheng spoke as if he were dismissing an annoying salesman:

"Okay, okay."

*Click*, the call ended.

Zhou Haibing stood at the door for almost two minutes.

In those two minutes, he heard the sound of a chair being dragged, slippers clicking on the floor, and Zhang Lijuan complaining from inside the door—"Your dad's here again? How annoying!"

Then came the sound of footsteps slowly approaching the door.

The door lock clicked open, and the door was pulled open a crack from the inside.

Zhou Dongsheng stood behind the door, wearing a wrinkled gray T-shirt and floral shorts. His hair was a mess, and he had two big dark circles under his eyes. His expression was full of displeasure.

He glanced at Zhou Haibing, but there was no emotion that should exist between father and son; only annoyance and anger at having his game time interrupted.

Then he turned around and left.

The door wasn't even closed, and he didn't even say "come in" before turning around and leaving.

The slippers pattered on the floor as I walked to the bedroom door and went inside.

Zhou Haibing reached out and pushed the door open himself, went inside, and closed the door behind him.

A dozen or so pairs of shoes were piled up haphazardly in the entryway, men's and women's shoes mixed together, some leaning to one side and others with their laces undone.

A layer of dust covered the shoe cabinet, and next to it were a takeout bag and two empty beverage bottles.

He walked through the entryway, down the hallway, and arrived at the bedroom door.

The bedroom was large, but it was turned into an internet cafe.

Two computer desks were placed side by side against the wall, each with a large-screen monitor, and the computer cases on the floor were flashing colorful RGB lights.

Zhou Dongsheng and Zhang Lijuan sat side by side in front of the computer, each wearing a pair of headphones, their fingers frantically typing on the keyboard and mouse, their eyes fixed on the screen.

Zhou Dongsheng's T-shirt collar was wide open, revealing his thin collarbone and fair, glowing skin. He had hardly ever been exposed to the sun in his life, and his skin was as white as if he had just been pulled out of the water.

Zhang Lijuan was wearing a pink slip dress, her hair was casually tied in a bun, she was chewing something, and her eyes were glued to the screen, just like Zhou Dongsheng's.

Neither of them looked at Zhou Haibing, as if he were a wisp of air or an insignificant piece of furniture.

As Zhou Haibing entered the bedroom, Zhang Lijuan caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Her lips moved slightly, and she managed to utter two words:

"Dad's here."

And that was it. Her gaze returned to the screen, and her fingers didn't slow down their typing speed at all.

Zhou Haibing stood behind them, watching the rapidly flashing game screens on the two monitors, with all sorts of skill effects exploding across the screen.

He didn't understand these games, but he could tell that the two people were playing very intensely, constantly shouting terms he couldn't understand.

He waited a few seconds before speaking:

"Dongsheng, stop for a moment, I need to tell you something."

Zhou Dongsheng did not stop.

His eyes were glued to the screen, his fingers were constantly tapping on the keyboard, and he was shouting into the microphone on his headset something like "Jungler, come top!" "No, no, no, retreat!"

Zhang Lijuan was also shouting, her voice even louder than Zhou Dongsheng's, "Focus fire! Focus fire! He's dead! He's dead!"

"Dongsheng," Zhou Haibing called again, his voice a little louder than before.

"Speak," Zhou Dongsheng said, still not looking at him, his eyes fixed on the screen, his tone as if to say, "Spit it out."

Zhou Haibing stood behind him, looking at the back of his head, where the hair was sticking out in a messy, upright manner, and his cervical spine was bent into an unhealthy arc.

He needed to see Zhou Dongsheng's eyes to perform hypnosis, but Zhou Dongsheng's entire attention was on the computer screen and he wouldn't turn his head to look at him at all.

He reached out and tugged at Zhou Dongsheng's elbow.

Zhou Dongsheng pulled his arm off the keyboard, and the character in the game immediately stopped in place. He was then focused down by the enemy, his health bar instantly went down, and the screen went dark.

A large "Failure" message popped up on the screen.

Zhou Dongsheng's face changed instantly.

He abruptly turned to look at Zhou Haibing, his haggard young face filled with anger and impatience, his eyes blazing with fury, and he was about to unleash a torrent of abuse—"You—"

He had barely uttered a word when his gaze met Zhou Haibing's eyes.

Zhou Haibing was looking at him.

Those old, bloodshot eyes held no emotion, like two deep mirrors reflecting Zhou Dongsheng's angry face.

Zhou Dongsheng's gaze seemed to be drawn to something for a moment, and his pupils contracted sharply.

Then, magnifying the image at a speed visible to the naked eye, the muscles around the eye sockets gradually relax.

The anger on his face receded like the tide, replaced by a blank, expressionless bewilderment.

His open mouth slowly closed, slightly parted, his lips a little dry.

His body was no longer tense; his shoulders slumped, and his hands hung at his sides. He sat quietly and motionless in the chair, like a machine that had suddenly lost power.

His eyes were still open, but there was nothing left in them.

There was no anger, no impatience, no emotion, nothing that a living person should have in their eyes.

Zhou Haibing looked at Zhou Dongsheng's face, the face he had seen for over twenty years.

This young man with small eyes, thin lips, and a pointed chin looks nothing like him, not at all.

How come he never noticed this before?

How come he never had any doubts?

How can a father not see that his son doesn't look like him?

Because he didn't want to watch, because he trusted Sun Guiying too much, because he wanted a son too much, and because he had been deceiving himself for over twenty years.

He's not lying to himself anymore.

He stared into Zhou Dongsheng's empty eyes and whispered, "Don't move."

Zhou Dongsheng did not move.

Zhang Lijuan, who was standing next to her, had not yet noticed the unusual situation.

Her eyes were still fixed on her screen, her fingers were still typing on the keyboard, and she was still speaking into the microphone.

But after calling out twice without receiving a response from Zhou Dongsheng, she finally realized something was wrong.