Chapter 31 Part 3

“Thanks.”

“Let’s head down for dinner,” Little Ji invited. “Tell us about your past while we’re at it.”

Yun Qi politely declined. “Sorry, I have a friend coming over. I need to wait for him—you guys go ahead.”

Little Ji had no idea who this friend was, but he knew better than to pry. “Alright then,” he said before leaving.

Yun Qi stayed at his station, waiting as people filed out one by one, waiting for trouble to come knocking.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long. A few figures appeared at the now-quiet doorway. Yun Qi glanced up and saw it was yesterday’s group. Pretending not to notice, he kept his head down and clicked away at his computer. They walked right in.

“Didn’t even dare come downstairs today?” the guy who claimed to be his fan said as he approached. He’d waited below for a while without spotting Yun Qi, and sure enough, here he was upstairs.

They grabbed a few chairs at random and sat down, blocking the way completely. Another guy chimed in, “Why don’t we settle whatever grudge there is once and for all? Dragging it out isn’t good for anyone, right, Luo Shen?”

His words hung in the air, ignored.

The target of their hassle didn’t even bother responding. The guy’s tone sharpened. “Hey, you treating us like we’re not even here?”

At that moment, Yun Qi stood up.

He pulled out his Trial Card and slipped it into his pocket. With a glance at the group, he headed for the door. Just as they thought he was making a break for it, he reached out and pushed the glass door shut instead. As they stared in confusion, Yun Qi said, “I’m not running. I cursed you out, so I owe you an explanation.”

The guy didn’t get it. “What the hell do you mean?”

Yun Qi locked the door from the inside and turned back to face them. “Weren’t you chasing after me? Here’s your chance.”

Someone stepped over and tugged at the door, realizing it was locked. It was a fingerprint lock—openable from either side. They couldn’t figure out what Yun Qi was playing at, but everyone felt a vague sense of unease they couldn’t quite pin down.

Yun Qi dragged a chair over and positioned it in front of the group. He sat down facing the glass door, then looked up at the self-proclaimed fan. “I didn’t get a chance to say this yesterday, but now I do. What are you gonna do about me? Or rather, what can you do?”

The guy’s gaze darkened. “You trying to pick a fight?”

Yun Qi draped his arms over the sides of the esports chair, which cradled his body perfectly. He leaned back, utterly relaxed. “Me? Pick a fight? With all you guys here, how would I dare? I’m just asking—what can you do to me? You gonna kill me or something?”

That set the guy off. He stormed forward in two strides. Yun Qi lounged there comfortably, even rocking the chair a little—the provocation was blatant. Furious now, the guy grabbed the arms of the esports chair, yanked it toward him, and dragged Yun Qi right up close. He growled under his breath, “I can’t kill you without paying for it with my life, but I can make sure you never feel welcome here again.”

Yun Qi couldn’t rock the chair anymore. He tilted his head back slightly, his straight nose almost brushing the guy’s face. “I don’t believe you.”

Visibly, the guy’s eyes reddened.

Then Yun Qi made an even bolder move. He looped his arms around the guy’s neck, pulling him in, and whispered in his ear, “I never curse at people. The only ones I curse are the ones who beg for it. You say you’re my fan? That you want to chase me? Let me make it crystal clear: trash like you, I’d ignore even if we met in three lifetimes.”

The words landed, and the guy clamped a hand around Yun Qi’s throat. The others hadn’t heard what he’d said—they were just shocked by the sudden violence.

“Hey…” They moved to stop it, but hesitated. They were all bark, no bite—just here to throw their weight around. They wouldn’t actually do anything.

But Yun Qi was going off the rails.

He gripped the guy’s wrist, his face turning red, breath coming in gasps, yet he still managed to glare defiantly. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even draw a proper breath, but those eyes bored into his opponent without mercy.

They were all young and hot-blooded, quick to anger. The provocation worked. The guy spat, “Slut.”

He tightened his grip on Yun Qi’s throat and leaned in closer. “Believe me now? I’ll wreck you right here.”

Yun Qi’s eyes burned with utter contempt.

The guy’s lips lunged forward to claim his. Yun Qi twisted his head away just in time. The guy was about to force it when they both heard a noise.

The others noticed it too—the sound of the door. They whipped their heads around in panic.

There, standing at the door, was someone who had no business being there. The glass door slid open slowly, and he stepped inside.

“Brother Jin…” Their bravado deflated like wet cotton, voices going soft.

The guy released his grip in a fluster and backed away. In this base, plenty of people dreaded seeing the boss, but everyone knew Yu Jin was someone even the boss didn’t dare cross.

He was the prize Boss Xu had gone to great lengths to sign for this base, this esports team—the very top of the chain.

“Brother Lu is waiting for you in the downstairs conference room. Go on.” After Yu Jin walked in, his gaze locked onto the esports chair blocking the view, and he addressed the group.

No one knew who this Brother Lu was, but panic flashed across the boys’ faces as they stammered, “Brother Jin, we are…”

“Lu Rong needs explanations,” Yu Jin said, glancing sideways at them. “I don’t. Get lost.”

The group froze as if struck by lightning, their gazes filled with disbelief. They couldn’t fathom why Yu Jin had shown up here at exactly the right moment, but no one was foolish. They turned wary eyes toward the seemingly innocent figure slumped in the chair.

They departed with lingering fear, their footsteps unsteady and chaotic.

Once the others had left, Yu Jin finally strode toward the chair facing the door. He gripped the armrests with both hands, bent down, and fixed an intense stare on Yun Qi—who was panting heavily, clutching his neck like a frightened lamb. In a sharp, cold voice, he demanded, “Learned to play tricks, have you?”

Yun Qi slumped against the chair, still gasping for breath. He covered his neck with both hands and timidly raised his eyes, looking utterly spent. “…I don’t understand.”

Yu Jin sneered. “You don’t understand?”

Yun Qi’s expression flickered evasively. Yu Jin’s gaze was too piercing; he refused to meet it, afraid it would strip away his facade. Instead, he let his eyes drift to Yu Jin’s waist—an angle that only heightened his aura of innocence and fragility.

“Timing it perfectly for me to show up?” Yu Jin pressed. “What if I hadn’t come?”

Yun Qi said nothing.

Once his breathing steadied, he grew cautious, his eyes downcast. The corner of his eye, where rough hands had grabbed him, still bore a flush that hadn’t faded, making him look as if he’d been crying. His lashes shimmered with moisture, and beneath the training room lights, it lent him an inexplicable allure.

“Do you think I’m so idle that I can swoop in every single time? What if I hadn’t made it today and he’d strangled you to death? Would you still find it amusing?” Yu Jin’s eyes were cold, fierce. His peach-blossom eyes held no romance—only a hidden sharpness. With his chiseled features and sharp lines, he regarded everyone with apparent disdain, uninterested and commanding, his tone laced with authority.

Yun Qi listened to the barrage of questions without so much as lifting his eyelids. Once his nerves settled, he countered with airtight logic: “You’re the one who said I don’t belong to KRO. You’re the one who bought me in. So when trouble finds me, shouldn’t I come to you? If that’s not right, then why claim I belong to you? Why not just dump me on the team to handle?”

He summoned every ounce of courage; each word rang with reason, his tone threaded with grievance and reproach.

Yu Jin’s voice deepened. “Say that again.”

Yun Qi’s lips pressed into a thin line. He sniffed, avoiding Yu Jin’s eyes, but he couldn’t escape the suffocating pressure bearing down on him. Yu Jin’s emotions enveloped him completely—a single accusation or ragged breath enough to rattle Yun Qi’s very soul.

He hadn’t wanted to repeat it, but a glance at the ring on Yu Jin’s finger ignited an inexplicable surge of bravery. Trembling, he pressed on: “Am I wrong? I was the one who got bullied. I was the one who nearly died. Why are you questioning me? If you don’t want to deal with it, I won’t come to you anymore. I won’t trouble you. My problems have nothing to do with you from now on. Sorry, E God, for being such a bother…”

He bit down hard on the words “E God.”

As the words left his mouth, a hot tear traced down his cheek.

Yun Qi huddled into the soft chair, his damp lashes quivering faintly. He looked utterly terrified.

He still had that habit of biting his lip.

Whenever he felt wronged, he’d bite his lip—and that single tear fell at just the right moment, theatrical yet genuinely moving.

Yu Jin raised his hand, and Yun Qi’s head jerked to the side. It was impossible to tell if it was from fear or calculation. Yu Jin’s fingers hovered stiffly for a moment before gently descending, brushing the tear from his damp cheek.

With his fingers lingering against Yun Qi’s cheek, Yu Jin’s gaze softened slightly, the edge in his tone easing. His voice remained cold, but it had lost its domineering force. After a long pause, he murmured in gentle reproach: “Such a temper.”