Ever since that day when he met Yu Jin, Yun Qi had put those thoughts aside.
Chen Wen had sent him to the Second Team, and in the matchups against them, Yun Qi had a firm grip on victory. Whenever anyone who felt it was unfair came to challenge him one-on-one, Yun Qi accepted every single one without refusal. Those challengers started off full of confidence but ended up leaving dejected and defeated, which completely dispelled the rumors that Yun Qi had risen through connections.
Because he had climbed the ranks so quickly, the higher-ups had taken notice of this gem. Yun Qi’s life became much more complicated—leaders would drop by to check on him from time to time, or managers from various floors would come ask him random questions. Before long, Yun Qi no longer had the bandwidth to think about Yu Jin.
His daily training routine also became very different from everyone else’s, far more flexible. Within just a few days of joining the Second Team, he had left the so-called #1 Trial Trainee Top Laner speechless. More and more people came to befriend him and get close, often popping up out of nowhere when Yun Qi was least prepared. At first, Yun Qi struggled with this sudden change, but now he had gradually adapted to the life of being popular. Almost anyone who approached him as a stranger did so because of his title as the #1 Trial Trainee Top Laner.
Today, someone from the Second Team came over to ask if he had any interest in joining Chole. This person was Chole’s captain, whose real name was Liu Yushu. Yun Qi had interacted with him the most over the past couple of days. Liu Yushu appreciated talent and had extended olive branches to Yun Qi multiple times. Even though Yun Qi had directly turned him down several times, Liu Yushu refused to give up. He grew extremely close to Yun Qi in private, often buying him meals or drinks, which made it hard not to suspect it was all for recruitment purposes.
Yun Qi rejected him once again: “Captain Liu, I’ve told you before—my goal is to make the Starting Roster for KRO. I’m not considering joining the Second Team for now.”
Liu Yushu clicked his tongue and stealthily pulled Yun Qi aside, stubbornly trying to persuade him: “KRO isn’t as great as you think. Their Starting Roster isn’t fixed—one year you might make it if you’re good enough, but the next year someone like Ziwei Star shows up and you’re pushed to the bench. Even players as strong as Liu Ying and Jiu Ke didn’t get to play last year. It’s way too unstable.”
“But Chole has the same system,” Yun Qi replied. He had lived here for a while now and fully understood the rules. “It’s not like being here guarantees security. If someone more skilled shows up, we still have to step aside for them.”
“That’s different,” Liu Yushu said, glancing around. “You have to understand—KRO is the company’s cash cow, so their standards are brutally strict. They send all their top talents there. Competition in our team is a bit less cutthroat, and with your skill level, it’s unlikely anyone will out-top you as a Top Laner for the next couple of years. Why insist on squeezing into KRO?”
“I’m sorry, Captain Liu, but I’m not considering any other teams,” Yun Qi said firmly. “I came here determined to make KRO’s Starting Roster, and that hasn’t changed. I’m very grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me, but for KRO’s Starting Roster, it’s do or die for me.”
Yun Qi added, “Even if a stronger player shows up later, I’ll accept it. If you’re outmatched, you make way—that’s how it works in any field. I can handle the pressure.”
Liu Yushu had tried every angle over the past couple of days—this wasn’t the first time he was persuading Yun Qi—but the guy was dead set on KRO and wouldn’t budge an inch. He couldn’t figure it out: “I’m just baffled. Why are you so fixated on going there? Is your boyfriend on KRO or something?”
Yun Qi looked up at him.
Liu Yushu slapped his mouth and spat: “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.”
Yun Qi laughed magnanimously: “It’s fine. And thank you again for the invitation, but I won’t change my mind. No matter how hard or tough it gets, I’m going.”
Yun Qi started heading back to the Training Room but then paused, turned around, and returned to declare his resolve to Liu Yushu: “Just pretend my boyfriend really is on KRO.”
Liu Yushu’s throat went dry as Yun Qi pushed open the door and went back inside to train. Liu Yushu mulled over those words, finally grasping what Yun Qi meant by “do or die.”
Having failed in his persuasion, Liu Yushu had nothing good to report back. When the manager asked how it went, Liu Yushu replied: “No chance. KRO saved his life.”
In just two short weeks, Yun Qi had become the Trial Trainee with the highest Peak Points. Last week, his Fist Lion was only at Blue Bean proficiency, but now it shone with a golden Provincial Standard. Many of his Top Laner heroes had badges of gold or silver indicating varying levels of proficiency. Kate, Red Ghost, and Phila were already at Top National Benchmark—it was only a matter of time. Watching his gameplay, everyone knew that given a bit more time, even more of his heroes would reach National Server level.
The lowest rating among the heroes Yun Qi had touched was still eight thousand points. He hadn’t gotten around to many others yet. Over the past two years, though some new top laners had been released, he hadn’t wasted his downtime at SK. He’d familiarized himself with the newcomers, so training them up now wasn’t too much trouble. With time so tight and tasks piling up, however, he didn’t have the energy to spare on every new hero. He could only focus on a select few top laners and rack up their scores.
Ordinary esports teams required at least three National Leaderboard heroes in your best position. KRO was stricter: besides your signature heroes, you needed at least two National Server heroes in every other position as well. They claimed it helped players understand each role better for smoother teamwork—or to catch opponents off guard in key matches.
For a pro player, relying on just two or three standout heroes was incredibly risky. Once you’d built up enough match experience and other teams saw you as a threat, they’d ban your mains during the BP phase. That was when your hero pool truly got tested.
Yun Qi had played support for two years, so he faced no major hurdles there. He wasn’t the flashiest among the top support mains, but hitting National Server with a few picks was no problem.
The Second Team tryouts were over. The higher-ups were now coordinating with the Starting Roster players and explaining the situation. Someone wanted to keep him around, but Yun Qi wasn’t interested. They were pressuring him to think it over, saying they’d observe him a bit longer. Yun Qi knew it was just a tactic to retain him.
He’d already made his intentions clear. No matter how they tested him, he wouldn’t waver. With a resolute stance—like meeting soldiers with generals and damming floods with earth—he left the Second Team’s manager with no recourse.
He hadn’t been in touch with his family for a while. During the midday break, Lin Su called. They didn’t follow the Esports Circle much and had no clue about Yun Qi’s transfer drama. They’d only heard bits from He Xuan. They asked how he was doing and if everything was sorted. Yun Qi just said all was well.
Lin Su shared some good news: his sister-in-law He Ying was pregnant. Yun Qi didn’t chat privately with her—only exchanged holiday greetings. They remained strangers. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that invested in her life. He and Lin Su weren’t blood-related. No matter how affectionately he called him “brother,” they hadn’t grown up under the same roof. A subtle distance lingered, especially with He Ying.
Still, Yun Qi knew how to play the part. Lin Su was sharing the happy news, so even if Yun Qi didn’t care much, he offered congratulations. As an only child, his personality had grown colder from two years grinding in the Pro Scene. He didn’t hold many things close to his heart. Lin Su had already treated him better than most, yet Yun Qi couldn’t muster frequent warmth.
Fortunately, Lin Su didn’t mind. He reminded Yun Qi to come home more often, and Yun Qi promised he would. In truth, life at the team wasn’t without freedom, but unless absolutely necessary, he skipped even the holidays.
After hanging up, Yun Qi sat in his chair, lost in thought. He opened Moments, which he hadn’t checked in ages, and scrolled to He Ying’s pregnancy photo. The caption read: Looking forward to your arrival in this world.
He liked it but left no comment. He stared at the photo for a moment—the swollen belly suggested she was pretty far along. She might have already been pregnant the last time he’d visited. Why they were only telling him now, he had no idea. He didn’t dwell on it; it was their business, after all.
Scrolling further, he saw recent posts from some pros in the circle. Three days ago, Xue Yan had shared a sunrise over the beach. Yun Qi realized he hadn’t reached out since arriving here. He messaged first: You busy?
Xue Yan replied after a bit: You finally remembered me.
Yun Qi admitted he’d been swamped lately. Xue Yan, ever the caring type, said he understood completely and hadn’t wanted to bother him.
He asked about Yun Qi’s recent days, expressed joy at his progress, then mentioned SK’s rough patch. With Lang Xian’s scandal and the bloodbath at the Challenge Tournament, the team’s morale was in the dumps. Jiu Shuang and Chen Xia had clashed with the organization for days, lined up new teams, and nearly left—until Brother Li talked them down.
Yun Qi didn’t care about them. Even after two years at SK, he shared no real bond with his old teammates. In hindsight, clashing with Jiu Shuang, Chen Xia, and the rest wasn’t all bad. At least now he wasn’t fretting over them. He listened to Xue Yan’s updates, murmured a couple of acknowledgments, then turned the conversation to him. Xue Yan said he was doing fine. The team had given them a couple days off, and he’d gone out exploring—no pressure weighing him down.
Yun Qi replied: That’s good.
As long as the people he truly cared about were okay, that was enough.
He had no bandwidth left for anyone else’s drama.
Yun Qi sat in the Training Room without touching his food. Ever since joining the Second Team and making a few friends, plenty of people had seen him at his station and warmly invited him to join them downstairs. Yun Qi politely turned them down without offering any explanation, and they wisely took the hint and left.
He felt like he’d slimmed down even more over the past couple of days. He wasn’t sure if it was the weather, but he had zero appetite and no desire to eat anything. During breaks, he’d simply rest his head on the desk for a while.
That day, just as he was about to do the same, Liu Yushu showed up again. There was an internal dinner that evening, he said, and the person in charge wanted Yun Qi to come along.
He was still just a Trial Trainee, not an official member of any team. Why invite him to something like that?
