End: Home and Farewell
Ms. Li, standing to the side, analyzed what her husband and son had said: “Wait a minute, you disappeared before because you were always in the game instance? And now that you’re no longer a player, you’re coming back?”
At the beginning, when the area where Tan Xiao was traveling was struck by a meteor shower and news came that no one had survived, she was hit hard. But because of the appearance of the God Game, even though she never received any word from Tan Xiao on rest days, she and her husband always held onto hope that their son was still alive.
A few days ago, the news that player Tan Xiao had “died” reached Mr. Tan. He had kept it from his wife and still hadn’t told her.
Although Tan Xiao was young and intelligent, he was now at an awkward age — the age to attend university — but there were no universities left. The surviving buildings had all been repurposed into bases.
Mrs. Li didn’t care what had happened in between; she was focused only on the present and future: “If you’re back, that’s fine. I can find you an internship at the Agricultural Science Institute. We don’t support idle people at home.”
She cast a light glance at Wen Yi: “As for Mr. Wen here, since he’s a chief physician at a top-tier hospital, his outstanding abilities mean you don’t need to worry about his job.”
A doctor who can save lives, especially one with exceptional medical skills, is rare in any era — peaceful or chaotic. If everything Tan Xiao said was true, then there was no need to worry unnecessarily about Wen Yi’s future.
Even though the man had an impressive appearance and demeanor, and according to Tan Xiao was excellent in many ways — a doctor not yet thirty — her own son was barely over eighteen. Eighteen and thirty — the latter could practically be the former’s uncle.
Wen Yi said, “It’s fine. I’m willing to support him and help him pursue further education. He doesn’t need to go to the Agricultural Institute. Tan Xiao can do whatever he wants.”
With the conversation heading this way, Tan Xiao quickly stepped in. He had returned to see his parents partly to confirm their safety and well-being with his own eyes, and partly to let them know about Wen Yi. He had no intention of staying long.
Although this might seem unfilial, if the God Game didn’t exist, Tan Xiao would have gone to university far from home anyway, then worked, beginning a life where time with his parents became scarce.
“Mom, I won’t go to the Agricultural Institute, and I’m definitely not going to be a researcher like Dad.”
Tan Xiao said calmly, “The identity of Tan Xiao is already marked as deceased in the system. How can a dead person work?”
After several months had passed and the bases in each city were established and networked, anyone who hadn’t registered at a base was generally presumed to have gone from missing to dead.
Mrs. Li became emotional: “That was a government mistake. You’re not dead. If we correct it, you can continue to live normally just like before!”
She had always been composed, but now couldn’t hold back the tears. Large drops fell from her reddened eyes, making the usually elegant and composed woman look utterly disheveled.
In fact, when Tan Xiao appeared in front of her, she had already sensed it. In her heart, she believed Tan Xiao might have died in the game and was now using some kind of special item to see her and her husband one last time.
Mr. Tan frantically pulled tissues from the bathroom to wipe her tears: “Hey, Axiao’s not dead. He’s back, isn’t he? Safe and sound. Don’t cry, it’s bad for your eyes.”
While wiping her tears, he glared at Tan Xiao: “Say something already!”
Tan Xiao said, “Although I’m no longer a player, I’ll be living in the God Game for a long time. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to stay by your side for the next few decades.”
As middle-aged adults with busy real-world lives, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Tan had read much of the online literature popular in Tan Xiao’s generation. However, in recent times, Mr. Tan had often interacted with people related to the God Game, so he wasn’t completely uninformed.
“You mean, you’re no longer a player and have become an NPC in the game instance? So now you’re going to be trapped in the game forever?”
He glanced at Wen Yi. Such a young medical genius, a chief physician at a top-tier hospital — if that were true, he would’ve heard of him.
Wait — the name Wen Yi. He had found it familiar before. He suddenly remembered. When he was first told that the top-ranked player who had passed several instances — Tan Xiao — might be his only son, he had gathered a lot of related information.
Those bits of information were messy, since the top-ranked player was known for being distant and never engaging with other players. Even false rumors couldn’t be confirmed or denied. But some pieces were definitely true — like the names of the instances Tan Xiao had completed.
After all, those were recorded in the world announcements — visible to all players — and there was no need or way to fake them.
The first announcement related to Tan Xiao was his S-rank clearance of the instance Plague. A player who had interacted with him in that instance later joined an official organization and happened to reveal some information.
In that instance, a key figure — possibly a player, possibly an important NPC — seemed to be Wen Yi.
Connecting that with what Tan Xiao had just said about a doctor… the man stammered, “He, he was the one from… the plague…”
Tan Xiao interrupted, “Yes, yes, I said so — he’s Wen Yi.”
“There’s nothing secret about that. Dad, don’t you think this isn’t the best place to talk? Let’s discuss this outside.”
As he spoke, he grabbed each parent by the arm and dragged them outside, saying with confidence, “I’m hungry. Let’s cook something.”
He rubbed his belly and said with a hint of longing, “I want to eat Mom’s braised pork, Dad’s dry pot shrimp, and I want fried meatballs and steamed fish too…”
Although he had done well in several game instances, food from restaurants outside had one flavor, while homemade dishes had another. That unique taste, different in every household, wasn’t just about good food — it was about beautiful memories.
Mrs. Li, who had been angry, was amused by his words. “You really know how to wish. Alright, I’ll ask my colleagues if we can buy the ingredients you want.”
After the world changed, resources changed too. Because of her profession in agriculture, her family lacked nothing in terms of vegetables and daily needs, but rarer meats had become much harder to get and much more expensive.
Still, Tan Xiao hadn’t come home for a long time. Even though it had only been over half a year in the real world, to most people, the changes felt like twenty years had passed.
With her son making such a request, how could she refuse?
Tan Xiao quickly said, “No need. We already have the ingredients at home. I bought them.”
After becoming an administrator, he lost his player status, but not the wealth he had accumulated as a player. For many, spending game currency on such things would be seen as extravagant and wasteful — real-world prices were much lower — but Tan Xiao didn’t mind at all.
Mr. Tan opened the fridge and saw that it, which had previously only contained a few bottles of water and some vegetables, was now packed with all kinds of fresh food. Some live shrimp were even still jumping inside.
He wasn’t a zoologist, but he knew that shrimp couldn’t survive long in low temperatures. Tan Xiao clearly hadn’t gone out shopping nearby — he had obviously purchased all of it directly from the God Game’s marketplace.
With a fair understanding of how this system worked, he knew how expensive all those things were. He did a quick conversion in his head and, as a frugal middle-aged man, silently drew a sharp breath at the cost.
But he didn’t say a single word to criticize Tan Xiao. Even though his son had always passed those game instances with high scores, in his mind, the savings that players accumulated were often earned with their lives on the line.
The money his son had worked so hard to earn wasn’t his to comment on anyway — besides, this was a show of filial piety.
A man who rarely shed tears wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand to avoid losing face in front of the younger generation.
“Alright, alright. You rest and take good care of Wen Yi. Eat a little something from the cupboard to tide you over. Your mom and I will cook.”
He carried a pile of ingredients and pulled his wife into the kitchen, even closing and locking the small kitchen door behind them.
Two hours later, the table at home was filled with dishes. Of course, Tan Xiao didn’t just sit around waiting to eat — at the very least, he tidied the table while waiting.
There was only one small square dining table in the house. The folding table had been set up, with Tan Xiao and Wen Yi sitting on one side and his parents sitting opposite.
They didn’t have the habit of serving food to others with their chopsticks, so the parents didn’t serve Tan Xiao any food — after all, he was a grown-up, and it’s not like he didn’t have hands.
More importantly, if they served their own son, did that mean they should serve his boyfriend too? The atmosphere would feel too awkward, so they all just ate from their own plates.
But Tan Xiao made sure to serve food to Wen Yi, which naturally made the parents feel a bit emotional.
Thankfully, Wen Yi wasn’t clueless. Those dexterous hands that once held a scalpel skillfully peeled the shells off the large shrimp and piled all the shrimp meat into Tan Xiao’s bowl.
Watching the two of them eat together made their parents feel a little sour. These two young people were so affectionate that it seemed like they hadn’t even eaten a few bites before they were already full.
Their 60-square-meter apartment only had two rooms. Due to the nature of their work, the couple usually slept in separate rooms. Today, one room was cleaned out so Tan Xiao and Wen Yi could squeeze into a small bed.
“These are my childhood things.” The home was much smaller than before, and many old belongings had been lost. Tan Xiao used to have a dedicated study for his books, but now all those books were gone.
Still, the small bedroom contained several thick photo albums of Tan Xiao, some childhood awards, and a box full of precious mementos, all stuffed into a large cardboard box.
Wen Yi flipped through the precious photos one by one, clearly delighted. With eyes full of anticipation, he asked, “Can we take these with us?”
Tan Xiao said, “Of course we can. But we’ll need to use an item to make a copy and leave a set here.”
Time at home passed quickly, and before they knew it, it was the next day.
“Mom, Dad, take care at work. Goodbye.”
Tan Xiao made sure to say goodbye properly this time: “We’ll meet again — just a little later.”
The game had just finished updating, and Tan Xiao had received an official message from the back-end administrators. As a game administrator, he didn’t get that many vacation days, and he had to be fair and impartial, without showing favoritism.
“Don’t worry. We’ll meet again. When you both grow old, I’ll be the one to take care of you and see you through to the end.”
Tan Xiao waved his hand, then in front of both of them, took Wen Yi’s hand and disappeared together into a beam of white light.
“Alright, alright. It’s not like we don’t know how to take care of ourselves,” said Mrs. Li, a bit awkwardly. “You and Wen Yi take care of each other too.”
An hour later, Mr. and Mrs. Tan pulled themselves together and prepared to go to work.
To be honest, Tan Xiao’s arrival had been sudden, and his departure dreamlike. If not for the piles of supplies left behind at home, they might have thought everything had just been a dream.
Knock knock knock. There was suddenly a knock at the door.
Mr. Tan opened it, and a group of coworkers from his department rushed in. Even the base’s senior officers were there, and they all seemed extremely agitated.
“Old Tan! You, you, you…”
Some of them were players and immediately recognized the daily supplies in the living room that came from the game. While not especially rare or expensive — at least not illegal — these items definitely shouldn’t have been there, confirming their suspicions.
“Your son… your son…”
Mr. Tan said, “It’s just like you guessed. He was once the top-ranked player. He didn’t die, but he’s already left and won’t be coming back.”
These people had heard the news — that the once-suspected-dead top player had returned to the real world — and couldn’t help wondering if other players who had died might also return like Tan Xiao.
But to verify that, they needed to see Tan Xiao in person. Unfortunately, by the time they got there, they had missed him.
As the group stood there with complicated emotions, unsure of what to say, a fluffy white dog that looked like a cloud suddenly ran out, barked at them, dropped a letter from its mouth, and then vanished before their eyes.
At the same time, some of the players’ phones began vibrating — they had received a notification from the God Game.
[Version Update Complete]
[This update improves the resurrection and permanent exit mechanisms of the game]
[Added new administrator role]
[Congratulations to Epic-Level Player Tan Xiao for officially graduating from the game and becoming a game administrator]
The players’ pupils instantly contracted: the reason Tan Xiao disappeared from every leaderboard… was because he had become an administrator of the God Game!!!
What they didn’t know at the time was that this was the biggest and only update of the God Game’s new era. After this, the God Game never again hired a human administrator.
The letter dropped by the little white dog suddenly floated into the air and opened by itself, leaving behind a single sentence:
“Don’t do anything unnecessary. I’ll always be watching over you.”
This was Tan Xiao’s farewell and protection for his parents — his proper goodbye to the past.
He left quietly, rejecting any manipulation or unnecessary entanglements, while also leaving behind a key for communication.
He and Wen Yi would be watching over them — from now into the future — for the new era of humanity.
TN: There are still two extra chapters.
One response to “MBHG 122”
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡
Thx for the chp! 🙂
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