Chapter 260 Brother Song~ Go easy on me, okay?

The New Year’s Eve dinner went far more smoothly than expected.

After the dishes were cleared away and replaced with fruit and tea, it was only a little past four in the afternoon—the sky hadn’t even gone dark yet.

Luo Bingbing glanced at the still-bright sky outside, then at the group gathered in the living room, and suggested with a smile, “It’s still early. How about we play a few rounds of mahjong?”

Lu Chen stood up at once, adjusting his sleeves. “You guys play. I’ve got an overseas partnership to deal with.”

“Hey, bro, don’t go!”

Lu Er quickly grabbed him. “We’re one short—you’re not allowed to run!”

Lu Chen looked helplessly at his wife.

Luo Bingbing shifted her gaze to Leng Qinghua, who was sitting on a single sofa, and said in a perfectly measured tone of coaxing, “Mom, since A-Chen has work, and you’re bound to have good luck today, why don’t you come play with us?”

Holding her teacup, Leng Qinghua lifted her eyes slightly. “Mm. Let’s go to the game room.”

Lu Chen immediately let out a sigh of relief. After giving Luo Bingbing a grateful look, he slipped away to the study.

He’d rather read financial reports than get double-teamed at the mahjong table by his own mother and younger brother.

The automatic mahjong machine in the game room hummed as it shuffled the tiles, the crisp clattering sound pleasant to the ears.

The four of them took their seats.

Naturally, Lu Er sat next to Song Jingmo. Luo Bingbing was across from them, and Leng Qinghua sat upstream from Song Jingmo.

While stacking tiles, Luo Bingbing casually asked, “Jingmo, do you usually play these kinds of games? Mahjong, Pai Gow, poker—do you know them all?”

Song Jingmo was arranging his tiles in a row, imitating Lu Er. Hearing this, he shook his head.

His answer was honest. “Not really. My family was quite strict—I wasn’t allowed to touch these. I only know the simplest way to play poker; I don’t understand the others.”

After a pause, he looked at Luo Bingbing and Leng Qinghua, his tone earnest. “But I can learn on the spot. I’ll have to trouble you, Auntie and Sister-in-law, to teach me.”

“Wow, what a good student,” Luo Bingbing teased with a laugh. “Alright, for the first round, we’ll teach you the tiles and the basic rules.”

Leng Qinghua said nothing, only calmly organizing her tiles.

The first round was more of a teaching session.

Lu Er was the most enthusiastic teacher, leaning close to Song Jingmo and explaining in a low, quick voice: what the Wan, Tiao, and Tong suits were; what wind tiles and dragon tiles were; what it meant to chow, pong, kong; and what “ready hand” and “winning” meant.

“This is Red Dragon, this is Green Dragon, and this is White Board… These three together form a dragon triplet—it adds points!”

Lu Er pointed at the tiles, speaking animatedly.

Song Jingmo listened attentively, nodding from time to time and occasionally asking a question or two.

Leng Qinghua and Luo Bingbing also cooperated, explaining their reasoning behind each discard.

After one full round, Song Jingmo had basically memorized all the tiles and grasped the fundamentals.

Luo Bingbing asked, “So, Jingmo? Want to go another slow round to reinforce it?”

Song Jingmo looked at his still somewhat messy but roughly structured tiles. “I think I’ve got the hang of it. We can start playing properly.”

The real game began.

Lu Er was delighted, thinking that since Song Jingmo was a complete beginner, he’d surely dominate and win some lucky money.

He had even already planned which new dessert shop to take Song Jingmo to tomorrow with his winnings.

In the first round, Song Jingmo did appear a bit unfamiliar.

His discards were hesitant, and he dealt into others’ wins several times—either feeding Luo Bingbing or Leng Qinghua.

“Oh my god, Doctor Song!”

Watching Song Jingmo discard a five of Wan that Leng Qinghua needed, Lu Er groaned as his mother calmly revealed her hand. “Your discards are way too accurate!”

Song Jingmo looked apologetically at Lu Er. “Sorry, I thought I didn’t need that tile for now…”

“Even if you don’t need it, you can’t just throw it away like that!”

Lu Er clutched his chest in anguish, feeling his dessert fund slipping away.

Leng Qinghua won the hand, her expression still calm, though the way she collected the chips was noticeably lighter.

Luo Bingbing quietly laughed at the side.

However, starting from the third round, things began to change.

Song Jingmo quickly grasped the rhythm of the game. He no longer hesitated, and his discards became decisive.

Though still quiet, his gaze was focused. His fingers lightly brushed over the tiles as he calculated rapidly in his mind.

Then, while Lu Er was still figuring out how to complete a pure suit, Song Jingmo calmly pushed his tiles forward.

“Self-draw. Pure one suit, straight… is that right?”

He looked at Lu Er, eyes clear, with a hint of inquiry.

Lu Er’s eyes widened as he leaned in to check.

It really was.

Even if the score wasn’t astronomical, pulling off a self-drawn pure suit in just the third round as a beginner—he might as well go buy a lottery ticket and win millions.

“Song Jingmo!”

Lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear, Lu Er said, “Be honest—are you pretending? Are you actually some hidden mahjong master?”

Song Jingmo chuckled and shook his head. “It really is my first time. I just find it quite interesting.”

“I’m just calculating probabilities and guessing others’ hands. It’s a bit like diagnosing an illness. I suppose my luck is also pretty good.”

Lu Er: “…”

Alright then. A top student’s brain—even mahjong becomes a diagnostic exercise.

In the following rounds, Lu Er’s luck completely ran out.

Song Jingmo improved at an astonishing speed and soon took the upper hand, winning more and more frequently.

Luo Bingbing also won occasionally.

Only Lu Er—either he couldn’t reach a ready hand, or just when he did, someone else would win first.

After losing another round, Lu Er couldn’t sit still anymore.

While the tiles were being shuffled, he quietly nudged Song Jingmo’s leg under the table with his foot.

Then he leaned closer and whispered, “Doctor Song~ Brother Song~ go easy on me, okay? Let me win at least one round? Just one—I’m about to lose even my underwear…”

He blinked his eyes, trying to charm him with his looks.

Song Jingmo turned his head to look at him, a smile rippling in his eyes.

Lowering his voice, he replied, “Tonight… how about we make Mom happy first?”

The words “our mom” were spoken so naturally and gently that Lu Er’s ears instantly turned red, his heartbeat skipping a beat.

Embarrassed and annoyed, he lightly kicked Song Jingmo under the table.

Still not satisfied, he shot him a glare, silently cursing: Who’s ‘our mom’? Shameless!

Song Jingmo took the kick, but the smile on his face only deepened.

In the following rounds, Song Jingmo stopped focusing on winning quickly himself and began controlling the flow of the game.

Most of the tiles he discarded were exactly what Leng Qinghua needed—or safe tiles she wouldn’t take even if she was ready.

Occasionally, when Leng Qinghua’s luck faltered, he would “feed” her just the right tile—nothing too big, just enough for a small win.

As a result, Leng Qinghua won five or six rounds in a row.

Though they were all small wins, the frequency added up, and the pile of chips in front of her grew increasingly impressive.