Chapter 24

Yun Qi wasn’t much of a drinker. That one glass of brandy burned through his chest and gut, leaving him thoroughly miserable.

Xue Yan quietly prodded him. “What’re you doing, knocking it back like that?”

Yun Qi shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Nothing. Just wanted to try it.”

“You don’t have to chug that much. I’ve never even seen you touch booze before, and now you’re starting with the hard stuff. Careful—that’ll hit you later.”

Forget later—Yun Qi already felt awful. He looked up, but the figure by the railing had vanished, as if he’d imagined the whole thing. He knew he hadn’t, though. Yun Qi quietly gripped the brim of the cap resting on his leg, his heart churning with wild emotion.

Xue Yan picked some food for him, ever the caretaker. “You’re too skinny. Eat up—put on twenty pounds, and you’ll look great.”

Yun Qi picked up his chopsticks. A mountain of gourmet dishes piled up on his plate. Xue Yan really knew how to look after people; he stacked it high. Yun Qi stared at it in a daze, almost as if he were already drunk. After a moment, he picked up a piece of crispy pork and popped it into his mouth.

The table buzzed with eager chatter. There was no shortage of topics between the two esports teams. Before long, someone suggested toasting the folks from KRO. At Esports Night, the winners were always the stars. Every member of KRO was a powerhouse, with fans across the industry. It was no surprise everyone wanted to rub elbows with them.

Outside of Esports Night and official matches, private run-ins with KRO were rare. No one wanted to let the chance slip through their fingers, so they quickly reached a consensus, glasses in hand, and pushed toward the central table.

KRO’s spot was some distance away—not an easy trek—but where there’s a will, there’s a way. Everyone minded their step, weaving carefully through the crowd to the heart of the action. Jiu Shuang and Chen Xia headed over too, but Yun Qi stayed put. Xue Yan nudged him. “You gonna go say something?”

Almost everyone at their table had cleared out. He and Yun Qi just sat there, watching the excitement without joining in.

“Why aren’t you going?” Yun Qi shot back.

Xue Yan drew a breath. “I’m not. They wiped the floor with us—what’s the point? To suck up? I couldn’t choke it out.”

Yun Qi braced his hands on the table and jabbed at a shrimp in his plate with his chopsticks. “It’s fine. No one hits a smiling face. They’re the top team in the scene—we should build bridges.”

On the surface, it made sense. Cameras were everywhere, and SK had been a championship favorite before KRO crushed them. Everyone wanted to see the sparks fly between the teams. Paparazzi were probably lurking, ready to twist a sour look into headlines about SK being petty or lacking grace.

Having Jiu Shuang and the others go was good for the team, all things considered.

“One or two going is plenty,” Xue Yan said. “Everyone piling on for toasts would just look forced.”

“Right? So we’ll sit this out,” Yun Qi replied. “I don’t really want to go anyway.”

Besides… they’d cross paths plenty in the future. No need to rush it now.

Yun Qi and Xue Yan sat quietly eating. Soon Lang Xian returned. He shot Yun Qi a glance before dropping into Jiu Shuang’s seat nearby. Tension crackled between them. Xue Yan, oblivious to the drama, called out, “You eaten?”

Lang Xian grunted. “No appetite.”

Xue Yan passed him a pair of chopsticks. Lang Xian took them but set them aside. The empty space beside him felt stark. “Where’s everyone?”

Xue Yan jerked his chin. “Hanging at the rivals’ table.”

Lang Xian glanced over—yep, they were all clustered around KRO. He got the picture and lit a cigarette without a word.

Yun Qi ignored him and kept eating. Xue Yan eyed the pair. Good thing Lang Xian had sat a little apart; otherwise, the awkwardness would’ve been brutal. With those two at odds, Xue Yan felt a pang himself.

The standoff hung in the air amid the lively buzz when a sudden shatter exploded through the room. Everyone jumped. Yun Qi pinpointed it clearest—the bottle had smashed right by his foot. He whipped around to see two figures squaring off, fists ready to fly.

“Say that again if you’ve got the balls! What’s wrong with our team?!” A furious guy jabbed a finger at a seated man. The crowd surged to life, everyone leaping up. Friends, rivals, and bystanders alike dove in to break it up.

Yun Qi felt a sharp sting, but the chaos demanded attention first. Xue Yan tugged him aside. “Over here—stay out of the crossfire.”

Yun Qi scooted closer as a horde stampeded past. The two hotheads kept hurling curses while others tried to pull them apart. Yun Qi rubbed his ankle and looked up, spotting someone in the corner aiming a camera right at the brawl.

Not long after, the person in charge of the event stepped forward. He cut an imposing figure, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five years old. He strode unhurriedly into the heart of the dispute amid everyone’s stares, glanced around, and asked, “What’s going on here?”

His voice was mature and steady, carrying no hint of accusation, yet it held an intangible force that commanded respect.

“Brother Shen, it’s nothing—just some trash talk. No fists flew,” someone replied. The atmosphere grew tense the moment the man appeared.

“Everyone here is welcome to join the fun—no cover charge. This is purely a chance for like-minded folks to connect. But since I’ve opened my doors, I hope you’ll all do me the honor of keeping any grudges or beefs on hold until after tonight. That too much to ask?” In just a few words, he had everyone pinned in place. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but it concealed a razor-sharp edge.

“Not at all, Brother Shen,” they hastened to say. They righted the overturned chairs and picked up the shards of the shattered bottle. The ringleader of the troublemaking esports team spoke up apologetically. “My bad for not keeping my team in line. We wrecked your good booze. Tell you what—later on, I’ll swing by to make amends in person, bring my guys along to apologize properly.”

No one in the room so much as breathed.

The man waved it off. “No need for apologies. I’m just worried about anyone getting hurt on my turf. Leave the glass shards—I’ll have them cleaned up. Everyone who walks through my doors is a VIP. You come in whole, you leave whole. Not a drop of blood on the premises.”

With that, he clapped his hands, summoning the servers.

The crowd watched as the servers tidied up the mess. The man urged everyone to take their seats and put it out of their minds, and the strange tension dissolved.

Yun Qi couldn’t shake the feeling that, as the man departed, he’d thrown him a fleeting glance. Why? Did he know Yun Qi? Or was it just his imagination running wild…

Yun Qi couldn’t make sense of it. He settled back into his chair. After the interruption, the vibe had cooled off. Everyone seemed on edge, like a taut string humming in their chests—Yun Qi included. He couldn’t pinpoint the sensation exactly, but the man’s arrival had robbed him of his earlier ease.

“Who was that guy?” Yun Qi asked once the man was gone.

Xue Yan glanced up. “You don’t know him?”

Yun Qi rubbed his ankle. “Never laid eyes on him.”

Xue Yan murmured, “He’s the man behind Esports Night—Shen He. Word is he’s plugged into the Pro League too.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Yun Qi said thoughtfully, “but he comes off like someone with serious pull.”

Xue Yan nodded. “Yeah, he’s got connections. Supposedly thick as thieves with KRO’s boss. Anyone worth naming in the scene has some link to him.”

“How do you know all that?” Yun Qi had been in the same scene, yet he was clueless about so much, barely recognizing half the faces.

“Give it two more years, and you’ll know,” Xue Yan said, ruffling his hair. “You’re still a kid.”

Yun Qi swatted his hand away. “I’m not a kid.”

He massaged his ankle, feeling something sticky, and muttered to himself as he peered down. “I’m old enough to get married.”

Aside from that near-brawl, the night had gone off without a hitch.

Yun Qi’s ankle was hurt. After dinner, he sat by the entrance, pressing a napkin to the wound for a while, waiting quietly on his own.

At least the bleeding had stopped. The glass shard had nicked his skin, and after the initial sharp pain, it ought to be fine. But Yun Qi’s skin was sensitive; a faint sting lingered even now. That was why he was always so cautious, loath to injure himself—and why he avoided public shindigs like this one, for fear of exactly this kind of drama.

And yet, here he was, jinxed anyway.

He sat outside, waiting for the crowd to disperse. All in all, Yun Qi was satisfied with the evening. He’d caught sight of the man who’d haunted his thoughts, scarfed down a good meal, jumped ship to a new esports team, and basked in the buzz.

That reminded him—he peered back inside. Where had Yu Jin gone? Why wasn’t he grabbing dinner with everyone? What was he up to on the Second Floor? Eating solo, or with buddies? Staying upstairs for some quiet, or because Yun Qi was down here?

No, that didn’t track. Yu Jin had no reason to duck out on his account. Back then, Yun Qi was the one who’d walked away; he was the villain in that story. Yu Jin could’ve confronted him, demanded answers—no need to hide. If hiding was in order, it should’ve been Yun Qi doing the vanishing act.

But tonight, Yu Jin hadn’t breathed a word about the past. Maybe he’d moved past that emotional roadblock, had no interest in rehashing old times, and was keeping things strictly professional—no trace of lingering sentiment.

That night, when he’d begged him and Eidis had draped his outer coat over himself, Yun Qi had felt a flicker of their old warmth. But seeing him today scattered it all to the wind. His gaze was so cold, so distant—as if they’d never shared a thing.

It was maddening.

Three years ago, Yun Qi had been the one to dump him. Now, running into him again after all that time, Eidis had soared to heights Yun Qi could never touch. He could have looked down on him, gotten his revenge, kicked him while he was down the moment Yun Qi came crawling for help. But he hadn’t.

Brother… what are you thinking?

The rain had stopped.

Yun Qi gazed out at the night view after the downpour. Two men emerged from the main entrance as the event wound to a close. Friends said their goodbyes, murmuring regrets about the evening. “It was pretty perfect, honestly. Only downside was not catching a glimpse of Eidis.”

“Yeah, same. He might not have even shown up.”

“I even brought a little gift for him. Oh well—Liu Ying will love it just as much.”

“Tell me about it. Getting face time with him is a real bitch.”

“You got legit business with him or what?”

“Does just wanting to say hi count?”

That was Eidis in this circle—untouchable. Even getting a pointer or two from him was an honor. When they’d split three years back, Yun Qi had figured he might make it big. But he hadn’t imagined this level of success. Eidis wasn’t just some player anymore; he’d planted his flag firmly in the esports world. And Yun Qi? He was still adrift, unsure which way was up.

“Qiluo?” The two guys spotted him. Yun Qi jolted and scrambled to his feet.

“You made it,” one of them said. “Didn’t see you inside earlier. You been here the whole time?”

Without their team uniforms, Yun Qi couldn’t place them. But everyone here tonight was from the scene, no doubt. “Yeah,” he said. “The whole time.”

The guy eyed him up and down. “So what’re you doing, just sitting out here? Word is you’re on the block—thirty million, right?”

Before Yun Qi could respond, his buddy jumped in. “I don’t get SK’s play here—no offense or anything. But… you worth that kinda cash?”

“SK’s really opening their mouths wide on this one. You get the full E God download or snag this year’s title? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Nah, you don’t get it. SK’s betting on hype. That face of his? Priceless.” The guy jerked his chin toward Yun Qi, and they kept yapping like he wasn’t even there. “Luo Shen, yeah?”

The name dripped with contempt.

The disdain hierarchy was everywhere in this world—like how a core carry from a top-twenty squad might look down on a support from a top-three powerhouse. Players like Jiu Shuang and Chen Xia? Those were the real cores, the ones who set the pace and decided if a team lived or died. But if a KRO support had been standing there instead, would these clowns have talked smack? Hell no. The hierarchy only kicked in against easy marks.

Yun Qi might have killer online buzz, but to the pros in the circle, he’d climbed the ranks through shady shortcuts. No arguing that one away. Pros marketing their looks always stirred up beef, and with SK yet to drop any bombshells, every esports team at Esports Night figured they had a shot at being next year’s champ.

No buttering up the competition early.

But there was no call for piling on, either.

Nobody knew who’d be the one getting toasts next year—who’d be the big winner at the next Esports Night.

Shortsighted idiots, though, never saw that far.

Yun Qi had gotten used to it by now. Crowds this size always had a couple haters. No point defending himself. He turned to leave, but one of them snagged his wrist.

“We ain’t done talking,” the guy slurred, booze heavy on his breath. “You and Qingmo really a thing?”

His friend nudged him. “Dude, you’re getting too personal.”

“Relax.” The guy shuffled closer. “Just wanna check out the face the rabid fans crown as the Pure Desire War God…”

He grabbed Yun Qi’s chin out of nowhere. “Huh. Not bad at all.”

A few drinks in him, and the guy’s going off the rails. No uniform, so Yun Qi couldn’t tell if he was even a pro. You market something, you get eyes on it—no complaints there. But handsy without warning? That crossed a line. Yun Qi clamped down on the guy’s wrist. “Let go.”

The drunk just grinned, blowing off the warning. His buddy glanced around nervously, but the idiot pressed on, leaning right into Yun Qi’s space. “P Dad says you taste sweet down there. True or not?”

From childhood to adulthood, Yun Qi had stirred up no small amount of trouble because of this face. Back in middle school, immature classmates spread rumors about him. Worse still, some malicious upperclassmen locked him in a room and exposed themselves to him. The naive Yun Qi back then didn’t understand what they meant. Terrified, he burst into tears, raced home, and sobbed endlessly in his mother’s arms without daring to tell her what had happened. He thought that as he grew older and met more mature people, such things would never happen again. Turns out, scum comes in all ages.

Every stage of life has its share.

Now his innocence was gone. His mother was gone. He had grown up, and he had learned to face everything on his own.

He had learned to neutralize all malice himself.

Yun Qi knew exactly what these people were thinking deep down, what they felt so superior about. So he stopped struggling, lifted his foot to press it against the man’s toes, and asked, “Do you want to know?”

A flicker of hesitation flashed in the man’s eyes.

Under the night sky, the atmosphere grew charged with ambiguity, even though Yun Qi’s face remained impassive.

“Simple,” Yun Qi said, seizing the man’s loosened grip. A chill gathered in his eyes. “Come on—”

“Kneel down and smell it.”