He clearly knew Lang Xian so well and understood the SK situation inside out, yet he’d maneuvered himself into this awkward position. If he was just currying favor with Lang Xian, wouldn’t that leave Danwan completely out of the picture?
Danwan couldn’t make sense of it. He suspected there was something off between those two, but their relationship wasn’t close enough for him to pry.
Danwan stared at Yun Qi for a moment. In the past, he’d only seen him in videos or caught a fleeting glimpse on the field during matches. He’d never quite understood why a professional esports team like SK bothered with all that flashy marketing nonsense. But now, face-to-face with those features, he finally got the point of leveraging looks for promotion.
Yun Qi was genuinely striking—delicate and refined. Most esports players weren’t much to look at; gaming skill had nothing to do with attractiveness. Even top streamers were often average at best. It was the rare stunning face that pulled in hordes of fans.
SK really knew how to play the game. Keeping a face like that hidden away would be a shame. Parading it out front to boost the team’s popularity was a smart move. But hyping a CP pairing with Lang Xian? That felt like overkill. Danwan was straight as an arrow and couldn’t wrap his head around that particular fan-baiting tactic.
Bzzz.
A phone buzzed from inside the room. Danwan snapped back to reality, glanced toward the sound, and said, “Oh, you get some rest. I won’t bother you anymore. Thanks for filling me in.”
“No trouble. It’s all stuff you’ll figure out in time.” Stick around long enough, and you’d learn everything. The deep-seated conflicts within the team? Your own eyes would spot them eventually.
After Danwan left, Yun Qi shut the door, walked over to the desk, and picked up his persistently vibrating phone. He saw the incoming call and tapped to answer.
“Bro,” Yun Qi said.
“Qi Qi, you busy the next couple of days?”
“Not really. What’s up?”
“It’s been a while since you came home. Mom misses you.”
“Oh.” Yun Qi paused. “I’ll head back tomorrow, then.”
“Won’t that cut into your training?”
“Nah. I’ve got plenty of free time lately.”
With homecoming settled, Yun Qi set off the very next day.
He’d booked an overnight high-speed rail ticket for 10 a.m., packed no extra luggage, and just let Yueqiu know. Thanks to the whole Danwan mess, his position was awkward anyway. Yueqiu didn’t press him to stay, so he went.
The following day, Yun Qi rode the high-speed rail for two hours, dozed a little, and before he knew it, more than half the journey was done.
When he arrived, he shouldered his backpack and stepped off the train.
It had been three months since his last visit, and his sense of direction had gone rusty. He wandered the station for a bit before finally hailing a cab home.
Once there, Yun Qi trudged up the path with his bag, ignoring the neighbors he passed. He kept to himself, utterly detached. At the front door, he paused for a moment before knocking.
“Hold on a sec,” a voice called from inside. Footsteps approached, and the door swung open to reveal his mother, Wang Xiu.
“Yun Qi?” Wang Xiu gasped in surprise. “What are you doing back?”
She looked genuinely shocked. Yun Qi peeked past her—it was right around mealtime, and the family was seated at the table eating.
“Mom,” Yun Qi said. The room buzzed with warmth. His brother, sister-in-law, and father were at the table, and they all rose to greet him.
“Qi Qi,” Lin Su said, coming over to take his bag. “That was fast. I figured you’d roll in this afternoon.”
“I got it, Bro,” Yun Qi replied, keeping hold of his bag as he stepped inside. He nodded hellos to the pair at the table while his sister-in-law darted to the kitchen to ladle him some rice.
“Set your stuff down first,” Wang Xiu fussed, circling him in her slippers. “You should’ve called ahead, sweetie. I haven’t even aired out your room yet—I’ll go fix it up right now.”
“Mom,” Yun Qi said, gently catching her wrist. “No need. Let’s eat. I can crash anywhere. If there’s no space here, I’ll grab a hotel.”
“What kind of talk is that? Of course there’s room for you. I’ll have it ready in a jiffy.” Wang Xiu patted his arm, her eyes brimming with delight. “Qi Qi, you just keep getting handsomer.”
After exchanging greetings with everyone, Yun Qi took a seat at the table. His sister-in-law, He Ying, handed him a bowl of rice. He stood to accept it with a quiet “Thanks.”
“Not too swamped these days?” his father asked in his deep voice.
“The team’s training rookies, so I’ve got some downtime,” Yun Qi said, keeping details light.
“You should come home more often. Xuanxuan’s Zhongkao is coming up fast, and nobody here gets that stuff like you do. You could tutor him a bit.”
“Dad, let’s not jump to Xuanxuan yet,” He Ying interjected. Xuanxuan was her little brother, and it seemed she had a favor to ask. She turned to Yun Qi. “Eat up, Yun Qi. You must be starving after the trip. You should’ve said something—we could’ve had your brother pick you up.”
“Public transport’s fine. No big deal,” Yun Qi replied.
After the meal, Yun Qi lingered at the table for some family chit-chat, inquiring about his sister-in-law’s younger brother’s schoolwork.
Only then did Yun Qi realize that his sister-in-law’s little brother really wasn’t cut out for studying. The kid was hooked on the hottest game around these days and was determined to claw his way into the pro scene—Yun Qi’s world.
The family was completely at a loss with him.
“It’s that game you’re playing,” Lin Su said. “He flat-out refuses to take his exams and wants to go pro in esports instead. No one can rein him in. He insisted we have you come back and check if he’s got what it takes.”
He Ying chimed in, “Xuanxuan gets out of school at five-thirty. I’ll pick him up then, and we can talk it over in detail.”
Yun Qi didn’t object, so the plan was set.
That afternoon, he tidied up his room. His sister-in-law poked her head in to help, but Yun Qi waved her off and handled it himself.
He Ying watched him bustle about and felt awkward just standing idle. She wiped down a dusty corner of the desk and then blurted out, “Qi Qi, is your esports team still looking for players?”
Yun Qi got the picture right away. “It’s not that simple, sis-in-law. Xuanxuan can’t just waltz in yet.”
“I’m not asking you to pull strings or anything. Xuanxuan’s grades aren’t great, but he’s seriously good at the game. His classmates say his skills are amazing—he just needs a foot in the door. You know this world better than we do. I was hoping he could stick close to you and pick up a few things.”
“Getting into an esports team is a grueling process. Unless he’s got eye-popping stats that make a club scout him, he has to start from the bottom: offline group qualifiers, then trial trainings, assessments—you name it—before anyone decides if he can cut it.”
He Ying scratched her head. “I don’t really get the details, but everyone says he’s that good, so maybe give it a shot? Here, I’ve got his phone. Log into his account and take a peek.”
She handed Yun Qi the phone without delay. It showed He Xuan’s recent matches and current rank. Yun Qi skimmed it and said, as gently as he could, “Sis-in-law, it’s not enough.”
He shook his head.
He Ying looked stricken. “What? Not good enough?”
Yun Qi handed the phone back. “He’s solid compared to regular players—two thousand points in Peak mode puts him in the mid-to-upper tier. But that’s nowhere near pro level.”
He softened the blow as much as possible, but the truth was He Xuan’s skills were merely decent. He’d notched a few National Rankings, sure, but in a pro scene teeming with prodigies, that wasn’t the yardstick they used.
He Ying’s face fell, her expression wounded. Yun Qi hated to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to. “This world’s not like others. Hard work alone doesn’t guarantee success or a paycheck. There’s no such thing as devil training in esports. They start with the basics: raw talent. You need to be a genius who smokes everyone else right out of the gate if you want to scrape by in this circle. Xuanxuan’s got skills, but I’d advise him to buckle down on his exams and take the straight-and-narrow path.”
He Ying was no fool. Yun Qi’s words sank in, leaving her thoroughly deflated. He was being polite, but the message was clear: your brother’s not pro material—cut your losses.
Knock knock.
The door rapped, cutting their conversation short. Lin Su stepped in. “Talking about Xuanxuan?”
He Ying clutched the phone, looking utterly lost.
Lin Su pieced it together quick enough and patted his wife’s shoulder. “Head out for now. I’ll talk with Qi Qi.”
She slipped away. Yun Qi set down the pillow he’d been fluffing and braced for the real discussion.
“I caught the gist. Xuanxuan’s not up to snuff, huh?”
Yun Qi didn’t sugarcoat it. “Fine for casual play, not for going pro.”
“Then you’re the one who should break the news to him.” Lin Su sank into a chair nearby. “If we try, it’ll just make things worse. He thinks we’re crushing his dreams.”
He Xuan was smack in the middle of his teenage rebellion, single-mindedly charging toward the esports circle. The family held no sway over him. Maybe Yun Qi—a guy already thriving in the pros—could get through.
“Anyway, enough about that,” Lin Su said. “A few days back, I went to your mom’s grave and added some soil. It’s your duty by rights, but with you away, I stepped in. Hope that doesn’t rub you the wrong way.”
“That’s on me for slacking. You covered for me, bro—no way I’d hold that against you.” Yun Qi paused. “Thanks.”
Lin Su slapped his thigh. “We’re family—no need for that. You call my mom ‘Mom’ too. I can’t just dump it all on you.”
Yun Qi pressed his lips together.
“I just chatted with Dad about your old life a bit.” Lin Su rubbed his mouth, shifting uncomfortably. “Y’know… your boyfriend.”
Yun Qi’s upper eyelid twitched involuntarily.
Lin Su squirmed a little, fidgeting as he pressed on. “You’re not ancient yet, but your career’s locked in. Time to think about settling down. Dad had me check if there’s any progress. We’ve got connections too—like all the young ladies at your sister-in-law’s workplace…”
“Doesn’t Dad know I like guys?”
One sentence, and the atmosphere turned silent.
Lin Su had already been reluctant to bring it up, carefully choosing his words. He hadn’t expected Yun Qi to be so direct, and he wasn’t sure which part of what he’d said had hit a nerve. Hurriedly, Lin Su added, “No, Qi Qi. Back then, you were just young and foolish, messing around, weren’t you? So Dad didn’t take it too seriously…”
“That wasn’t messing around,” Yun Qi replied after hearing this. A twinge of discomfort stirred in his heart as he corrected him. “I was young and foolish, sure. But my feelings for him were real.”
Lin Su frowned. “But now…”
“I still like him,” Yun Qi said softly, his head bowed as he rubbed his wrist. The words were light, but they carried a world of unspoken emotions. “Not even a little less.”
