Jiu Shuang patted the back of his girlfriend’s head. “Silly girl, that’s just empty talk. You can only call it an ideal if you can actually catch up to it—otherwise, it’s pure fantasy. E God lives in the dreams of everyone in esports. Someone like him? I wouldn’t even dare dream about it in my lifetime.”
Yun Qi was standing right behind Jiu Shuang and heard every word of the evaluation clearly. Jiu Shuang’s girlfriend clung tightly to his arm as the two of them made their way toward the center of the banquet hall.
Xue Yan glanced around with a sigh. “This place is gorgeous. No idea who the sponsor is, but they really went all out.”
Yun Qi replied, “I heard it’s some folks from inside the Pro League who teamed up to host it. No clue who exactly.”
“Such a lavish affair—it’s practically tradition now, once a year. Gotta cost a fortune; definitely some mega-rich backer.” Xue Yan watched the crowd flowing past him, his eyes fixed in one direction. “But hey, it’s good too. A spot like this lets everyone mingle and make connections, so I won’t begrudge the wealthy for tonight.”
He turned back to Yun Qi. “Especially you. That sky-high transfer fee of yours is sitting there on the Exchange right now. Plenty of teams want you but can’t foot the bill. Use tonight to chat up a few squads, lay on the charm. Might actually help your situation.”
Thirty million—could a little flattery really seal the deal? It was a pipe dream, and Yun Qi knew better than to hope, but he mumbled a vague, “Mm.”
The two wandered the venue for a while. Guests kept pouring in through the main entrance, blending them into the sea of figures clustered around the wine tables. Neither had much head for liquor, though, so they didn’t dare indulge. They just held their glasses, savoring the aroma without taking a sip.
Yun Qi scanned the crowd with his glass in hand. Esports Night had no shortage of stars. Any single member of KRO could dominate on their own—this place welcomed anyone passionate about esports events, with free-flowing wine and cakes. But casual fans were barred; only pro players, retirees, and streamers with real clout in the Esports Circle made the cut.
Officially, it was tough to vet true fans from the masses, and they didn’t want Esports Night turning into a celebrity circus. Pros had rabid fans whose enthusiasm couldn’t be ignored.
What they overlooked, though, was that esports players were fans too—especially of players stronger than themselves. KRO’s crew was ringed by admirers, all smiles and nonstop flattery.
“I watched the match—you were a god out there, Ziwu.”
“Heading to the Foreign Server soon? Go get ’em! Rooting for you to bring home the glory!”
“Brother Ziwu, mind if we add you on WeChat later?”
“Brother Ziwu, cheers!”
“Brother Ziwu, I’m such a huge fan! That SK match was pure dominance. If I ever pull off ops like yours, I’d die happy!”
“Bro, take me as your apprentice!”
Yun Qi watched the spectacle impassively. Sucking up to the mighty while kicking the lowly—it was the way of every industry, cold facts everyone knew deep down.
Xue Yan, though, wasn’t so detached. He eyed Ziwu with burning envy. “Man, wonder if I’ll ever get a taste of that in my life.”
Yun Qi hadn’t touched the brandy in his hand—it was just a prop, its sharp scent a warning. He set it down and stood quietly by the table.
Xue Yan had been lost in his melancholy when his eyes suddenly lit up. He spotted someone and slammed his glass down. “Holy shit, she’s here too.”
Yun Qi followed his gaze. A girl with waist-length hair stood amid a throng of people, surrounded by guys. Her smile held a touch of awkwardness. Yun Qi recognized her—one of the few female streamers in the Pro Scene, and a big one at that. In a sea of wolves with little meat to go around, she’d naturally drawn eyes first, everyone rushing to say hello.
Xue Yan caught her streams often, and now he couldn’t sit still. Forgetting his woes entirely, he clapped Yun Qi on the shoulder. “Hang tight. I’m gonna go say hi.”
“Brother Yan, don’t wander off.” Yun Qi’s warning fell on deaf ears—Xue Yan was already hustling away. Yun Qi watched his eager back and couldn’t help but marvel at the power of a pretty face.
Once Xue Yan was gone, Yun Qi stood alone. He turned to slip away when someone sidled up with a grin. “Luo Shen?”
Yun Qi sized him up, drawing a blank. “Who might you be?”
“Huayao. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”
How could he? Huayao… this wasn’t the image from online. This sunny-faced guy was the streamer who pranced around in stockings, flaunted long legs, dabbled in edgy content, and bragged he only did it “for E God”?
Yun Qi hadn’t clocked him at all.
“You… look like this?”
Huayao laughed. “Online? That’s all for the views. Heavy makeup—no wonder you didn’t recognize me.”
Yun Qi nodded. “Oh. Sorry.”
Huayao shoved his hands into his pockets. “No big deal. I’m just here chasing stars. Didn’t expect to run into you.”
Chasing stars… Right—he was a fan of the same person.
“Eidis?” Yun Qi asked.
“He came,” Huayao said, tilting his head. “Luo Shen, as a fan of E God, you didn’t even know that? He announced it on his streaming account today. Otherwise, why do you think this year’s Esports Night is so packed?”
Yun Qi glanced at the steady stream of people filing inside and realized there was something to it.
Huayao could tell he genuinely had no idea. He figured Yun Qi probably hadn’t been keeping up with things online lately—and he was right. Yun Qi had been dealing with some personal drama over the past couple of days and hadn’t spent much time surfing the web.
Huayao didn’t press the issue. As a big-name streamer, the stark contrast between his online persona and real-life appearance meant hardly anyone recognized him. With no one hovering around, he gave Yun Qi an appraising look. “You’ve been listed on the exchange, huh?”
Anyone following the exchange would have noticed the buzz.
Yun Qi saw no point in hiding it. “Yeah.”
“Thirty million? SK’s got some nerve,” Huayao said.
Yun Qi voiced his own skepticism. “Aren’t you friends with Lang Xian?”
“Qingmo? Sure,” Huayao replied. “But we’re not that close. We’ve queued up together a few times, but we don’t hang out much off-stream.”
“Got it,” Yun Qi said with a nod.
“Still, that thirty-million transfer fee is straight-up absurd. What the hell is SK playing at? Do they actually want to sell you off? At that price?” Even an outsider like Huayao could spot the shady maneuvering. The whole operation was painfully obvious.
“They want to, but they don’t,” Yun Qi said helplessly. “They want me to stick around, but they also want top dollar if I go. Keeping me on payroll won’t bankrupt them, but selling low would sting. Best-case scenario for them: offload the hot potato and pocket a fat profit.”
“You’re not holding back on your old team, are you?”
“I’m not worried about you spreading it around,” Yun Qi said with a brilliant smile. “No competition between us, after all.”
Huayao grinned in understanding. “Now that’s music to my ears. All I want in this life is to make bank. Nothing else.”
They chatted amiably for a bit before parting on good terms.
Once Huayao had gone, Yun Qi mulled over the intel he’d dropped—that Eidis was here somewhere. He scanned the crowd for a while, but there was no sign of him.
Yun Qi wandered off in search of him. He crossed through the main hall and reached the quieter side, where there were no lavish spreads of wine and cake. Fewer people lingered here, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the night outside. He strolled aimlessly along the glass, soon forgetting his original goal. The nighttime scene captivated him: the illuminated greenery and flowers took on a romantic glow, delicate raindrops clinging to the panes, everything bathed in serene harmony.
Yun Qi pressed his hand to the window. The chill seeped into his palm as he peered through the rain-streaked glass at the roses just beyond. They were beautiful—crimson, pink, and gold—like the ones his mother had planted years ago, blooming in vivid, seductive splendor.
A riot of flowers, gradually beguiling the eyes—that was the scene before him.
He lost himself in memories of the past, of his mother, of those peaceful days forever out of reach. Suddenly, his reverie shattered. Someone seized his wrist. Yun Qi startled and looked up to find Lang Xian, who had followed him at some point.
His soft gaze hardened instantly. He shot Lang Xian a glare without a shred of politeness and tried to yank his hand free. But Lang Xian, for reasons unknown, shoved him back against the window. Yun Qi’s waist was pinned between the glass and Lang Xian’s iron grip. He let out a sharp cry. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Wanna fuck you,” Lang Xian slurred, his breath thick with booze, his words crude and unfiltered. “Dressed up so pretty tonight—who’re you trying to seduce? Huh? Came here hoping to tease someone into whisking you away from SK?”
Yun Qi shoved at him. “Let me go!”
Lang Xian crowded in closer, more aggressively, his eyes turning dangerous. His palm pressed against Yun Qi’s neck—as if toying with it or snapping it outright—his control and menace dialed to the max. “Fuck, I give you chance after chance, and you keep blowing it. Thinking of jumping ship? Go on, run. Flee Shanghai, hide where I can’t find you. Oh wait—you can’t, can you? The pro scene’s crawling with my connections. You’re under my thumb wherever you go. Believe it, Yun Qi? You believe me?”
Lang Xian hoisted Yun Qi by the waist and locked him in place. That slender midsection was utterly at his mercy. Yun Qi’s struggles did nothing. He lifted his head, face cold as ice. “Lang Xian, you’re a bastard.”
Lang Xian couldn’t have cared less. “Yeah, I’m a bastard. From the moment I shoved you into SK, I never had any good intentions toward you. You think you fucking earned your spot on the starting roster through pure skill? That’s only because I, your father, take an interest in you. Yun Qi, don’t spurn my good intentions. You’re destined to stick with me for the rest of your life—to get fucked by me. Thirty million? Which idiot esports team would buy a has-been like you?”
Lang Xian’s aggression had barely ebbed when he moved to press the attack again. Then a low, resonant voice detonated right behind him—casual yet forceful, laced with just a hint of provocation.
“I’ll buy him.”
The words jolted both Yun Qi and Lang Xian out of their standoff.
Yun Qi’s tightly clenched fist shoved against Lang Xian’s chest. When he heard that voice, he pushed even harder. With a third party now present, Lang Xian refrained from laying a hand on Yun Qi. He stumbled back amid Yun Qi’s frantic shove, whirled around, and there they both saw the man standing out like a sore thumb. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt that revealed the sharp lines of his arms.
A black baseball cap shadowed half his face. Loose athletic pants completed the deliberately all-black ensemble. In one hand, he dangled the remnants of a cigarette, which he casually flicked into a wineglass on the nearby table.
Yun Qi stared at him. That same overpowering presence from that night—intimidating even in silence. He stood there just like he had at their first meeting, by the school drainage ditch, when he’d become Yun Qi’s savior.
“Eidis…” Lang Xian’s pupils dilated in disbelief. He could hardly credit that the man before him was the same one from his memories. But that look—no one else in the scene matched it.
“Was I not fast enough?” Eidis crushed the cigarette into the wineglass. The sparks died instantly. He raised his eyes to fix on the man by the window, his expression darkening. “I remember the Exchange pulling your data around four o’clock. What, did the Exchange update, but your brain didn’t get the memo in time?”
Lang Xian shot a glance at Yun Qi, suddenly unsure who exactly was the target of that barb.
Then came the pointed warning, aimed straight at him: “Messing with my team’s player right in front of me, Lang Xian. You think SK isn’t trash enough already?”
