The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 331: Chapter 330 Mahjong

As everyone knows, Mahjong is a puzzle game that can prevent senile dementia.

——by. Mrs. Jiang, who is addicted to playing Mahjong

Before attending college, Jiang Feng was only skilled in the variations of Mahjong played locally in Z city and its surrounding counties. Thanks to Mrs. Jiang’s years of influence, Feng had a bit of understanding of the styles played in the counties around Z city.

Although Z city is located in the south, its Mahjong only has 136 tiles; before attending college, Jiang Feng didn’t even know about the existence of the eight additional flower tiles, which include spring, summer, autumn, and winter, as well as plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum.

Jiang Feng’s deeper appreciation for Mahjong began after he went to college and met players from all over the country, as well as from QQ Games.

During his freshman year, Feng was addicted to ruling the Mahjong tables in QQ Games, ranging from national standard to Shu style Mahjong. He won hand after hand everywhere he went, almost failing Advanced Mathematics.

Later, Jiang Feng turned over a new leaf and switched from online to real-life Mahjong, occasionally slipping over to the next dorm to play a few rounds, aiming to foster closer relationships with his classmates. Regrettably, during an unexpected dorm inspection in the second year’s first semester, three decks of playing cards, a set of Mahjong tiles, two cases of white liquor, and everything from Jiang Feng’s dorm such as the electric rice cooker, kitchen knife, rolling pin, sticky board, and various seasoning ingredients were all confiscated in one fell swoop.

After that, the next-door dorm restocked a case of white liquor and three decks of playing cards, but never replaced the set of Mahjong tiles. Since then, Jiang Feng had never played in real life again, only watching Mrs. Jiang play Mahjong during the New Year celebrations.

Before starting the game, Qi Rou carefully explained to everyone the rules for winning in their version of the game. Shu style Mahjong is just a general term; there are slight variations in the way it’s played in different places. Jiang Feng, Sang Ming, and Zhang Weiyu each took a moment to digest Qi Rou’s explanation, and then the game began.

Shu-style Mahjong, also known as ‘Blood Battle Mahjong’, only includes dots, bamboo, and characters, the three suits, thus totaling only 108 tiles and not ending when one player wins. When someone wins, the remaining three players continue the game until three of the four players have won or the remaining player has no tiles left to draw, resulting in a draw. This also means that the one who wins first is not necessarily the final winner, but the last loser is definitely the most tragic one.

Jiang Feng was now a bit nervous.

The hand he was currently playing had reached a critical point. He was just one nine of dots away from self-drawing the winning seven pairs hand, and no nine of dots had been played on the table yet, giving him a great advantage.

Feng took a deep breath and reached out.

In this moment, he felt as if the gods and saints of Mahjong, along with the king of gamblers, had all possessed him. This tile was going to be——

An eight of characters.

Jiang Feng: ???

No one had played any eight of characters on the table either.

Feng hesitated for a moment but decided to stick with the nine of dots.

“Eight of characters,” Jiang Feng said expressionlessly as he played the eight of characters he held.

Sang Ming’s eyes lit up, and he shouted with glee, “Kong!”

With a sweep of his hand, he pushed out three eight of characters.

Feng breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, he had stuck with the nine of dots.

Sang Ming drew a tile, and like the male prodigy from the neighboring Neon Country in the anime ‘Genius Mahjong Girl’, he pushed the hand of tiles in front of him forward with another loud shout: “Kong on the rise, I win!”

The tile that Sang Ming just drew was the nine of dots; all three of the nine of dots that Jiang Feng had been coveting were neatly lying at Sang Ming’s side, making up a hand of ‘Kong on the rise’—a move Feng had only seen in the anime ‘Genius Mahjong Girl’ next door and never encountered in real life.

Jiang Feng: ???

Prodigy Mahjong boy Sang Ming was the first to win and temporarily withdrew from the game to join the audience.

Having witnessed this human tragedy, Jiang Shoucheng couldn’t help but shake his head, turning to Jiang Zaidi and whispering, “Little bro is having some tough luck today.”

Zaidi nodded in agreement, “Bad luck is the last thing you want in a game; if you’re going to lose, you might as well keep losing.”

“Exactly, I had a night like that the year before last during New Year’s,” Jiang Ran chimed in with a sense of understanding, inadvertently uttering a venomous curse.

Sang Ming, seated next to Feng, had just won with a ‘Kong on the rise.’ After Sang Ming’s win, Zhang Weiyu played a nine of characters without any change in expression, followed by Qi Rou, who played the same tile.

Jiang Feng drew a tile.

Four of dots.

With no four of dots discarded yet, Jiang Feng felt a significant advantage and nonchalantly played the nine of dots that had once carried his hopes.

Zhang Weiyu was about to draw a card.

“Wait.” Qi Rou stopped Zhang Weiyu’s action with her voice, looking at the nine of dots Feng had just played with a mix of surprise and disbelief before pushing forward her own tiles.

“I win with a pure suit!” Qi Rou couldn’t help but double-check, her face contorting with the ugliness of victory, “I can’t believe I won!”

A full flush of dot tiles lay before her, including the three four of dots Feng had longed for.

Jiang Feng: …

The four of dots he had just drawn was now useless.

Their table seemed to be drawing some divine tiles, with Sang Ming winning with a ‘Kong on the rise’ and Qi Rou with a pure suit. Despite the setbacks with his seven pairs, Jiang Feng still felt his chances of winning were substantial.

Zhang Weiyu remained expressionless, calmly drawing his tile.

The game had reached a fever pitch.

Jiang Feng and Zhang Weiyu took turns drawing tiles, neither claiming discarded ones to win, nor drawing winning tiles on their own. As the number on the table dwindled to the last half round, Jiang Feng was starting to feel anxious, while Zhang Weiyu remained calm and composed.

Jiang Feng had even considered breaking up his seven pairs to go for a Pung hand, but with victory so close, he couldn’t bear to, thus remaining in a deadlock that now seemed irreversible.

Jiang Feng let out a sigh and discarded the Four of Bamboos he had just drawn. Only two tiles were left to draw from the table, and it seemed the game was about to end in this way.

“Four of Bamboos,” Jiang Feng said.

Zhang Weiyu pushed his glasses up and declared, “I win.”

Chicken hand, one fan.

Jiang Feng: …

“You must have been aiming for seven pairs. What a pity,” said Zhang Weiyu, feigning sympathy for Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng: …

“Another round!” Jiang Feng struggled desperately, unwilling to give up.

Ten minutes later—

Jiang Feng: “Seven of Characters.”

Sang Ming pushed his tiles forward: “I win!”

.

Jiang Feng: “One of Characters.”

Qi Rou’s face lit up with surprise: “Eh, I win again!”

.

Jiang Feng: “Six of Dots.”

Zhang Weiyu smiled slightly: “Sorry, I win too.”

Jiang Feng: …

“Another round!”

Jiang Feng felt a pain in his kidney.

…

After three rounds of mahjong, Jiang Feng felt as if he had lost a kidney.

He himself was puzzled by his extraordinary bad luck.

Losing at mahjong was normal, but losing consistently from start to finish, without giving anyone else the chance to win off his discards, was not. The last round ended with a simultaneous win from three players; one with a Flush hand, one with Terminal Tiles, and one with a Chicken hand. He had managed to achieve a mahjong record worthy of the history books.

Why was his luck so terrible, almost rivalling the former Zhuang Lin’s?

He wondered if Zhuang Lin played mahjong at all.

Wait a minute, Zhuang Lin, luck.

Jiang Feng’s hands stopped shuffling the tiles.

Jiang Feng remembered the beef stew with carrots he had eaten recently.

The buff from the beef stew with carrots promised the best luck for one week within a year, and since he’d already used up his best luck, according to the law of conservation of mass, which states that mass in an isolated system is neither created nor destroyed by chemical reactions or physical transformations, his current losing streak at mahjong made sense.

As for whether something as abstract as luck would abide by the law of conservation of mass, what did that have to do with him, Jiang Feng?

Of course, his recent bad luck had nothing to do with it, no, it must be because of that beef stew with carrots. The reason for his devastating loss today was entirely due to bad luck and had nothing to do with his skills at the game.

“What are you all crowding around here for? Has Ran seen Feng? I brought some zongzi… Eh, someone even brought mahjong.” Mrs. Jiang’s arrival saved Jiang Feng’s kidney. If the game continued at this rate, he wouldn’t be able to save his kidneys.

“What kind of mahjong are you playing? Beiping mahjong or Guangdong mahjong?” Mrs. Jiang was intrigued.

“Grandma, they’re playing Shu region mahjong,” replied Jiang Ran.

“Shu region mahjong?” Mrs. Jiang pondered. “I know how to play that. I played a few rounds at the mahjong parlor downstairs the other day, it was quite interesting with only 108 tiles. Feng, go check on the zongzi in the kitchen, I’ll play a round for you.”

“Sure, Grandma!” This was exactly what Jiang Feng had been waiting for; he knew Mrs. Jiang would not disappoint him.

Jiang Feng immediately stood up and gave his seat to Mrs. Jiang, leaving without any reluctance or longing, not looking back as he headed for the kitchen.

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