Chapter 38 Part 2

“That’s a real feast for the eyes,” Lao Xun replied. “Truth be told, I knew about you back at SK. It used to grind my gears—not for any other reason, but because a handsome kid like you wasn’t on my team. It made everyone think Li Meng’s marketing was some kind of genius stroke. With a face like yours, anyone could turn you into a star. If our team played that game, I’d have you blowing up in under a month. Bet on it?”

Liu Ying, lounging on the arm of the sofa, piped up full of skepticism. “No way. I’ve been dying to go viral, but you never pushed me.”

Lao Xun shot him a sidelong glance. “You not famous enough, kid? Who’s the top jungler in the country right now? Not counting Captain Yu, of course.”

“Oh, there are plenty,” Liu Ying shot back, ticking them off on his fingers. “WG’s Free, Tunnle’s Spiral, Pupli’s Meng Qiao—they’re all way more famous than me. With all that team marketing and sponsorship hustle, they’re basically mini-celebs.”

Yun Qi knew these names too; they were the biggest stars in the esports scene, skill aside.

Lao Xun adopted a lecturing tone. “I keep your sponsorships limited for your own good. We’re the top team in the country—millions of eyes on us. We’re the national pride, the honor squad. Stick to honing your skills.”

Yu Jin cut in unexpectedly from the side. “Doesn’t look like you went easy on me.”

Lao Xun chuckled. “What can you do? The team has to keep running. If the others skip sponsorships, the captain’s got to pick up the slack. This year, I’ll dial yours back—just a few big-name deals to keep the lights on.”

Yu Jin didn’t give it a second thought.

He heard promises like that every year.

Liu Ying pressed. “Then hook me up with some. I’ve checked myself out—no matter how hard I grind, I can’t catch Captain Yu. Let me snag some pocket cash on the side.”

“You think?” Lao Xun said. “Don’t assume I was clueless sitting at home for three months. This year’s trial trainees are stacked, especially the junglers. Lu Rong gave me the rundown a couple days back—Second Team cycled out three players, like slicing a major artery. You get the picture: each new wave is stronger than the last. Sponsorships? You’ve got forever after retirement. Grind now, or someone replaces you in a snap.”

“No chance,” Liu Ying said with full confidence. “Can’t beat my bro doesn’t mean they can beat everyone else. My master’s Server #1. To take my jungler spot, they’d need a solid two more years.”

“You little punk.” Lao Xun waved them off. “Alright, scatter. Back to training, all of you.”

The group filed toward the training room.

Yu Jin remained seated on the living room sofa. Lao Xun watched them go, then turned to the relaxed captain. “See that kid Liu Ying? Confidence is great, but overconfidence? You should say something to him.”

Yu Jin took a sip from his teacup. “He doesn’t listen to me.”

Lao Xun narrowed his eyes. “You say that, but he and Yi Yang hang on your every word. If he won’t listen to you, who does he listen to?”

Yu Jin set down his water cup. “Isn’t having confidence a good thing? He didn’t say anything wrong—there probably won’t be a fiercer jungler than him for the next two years.”

Lao Xun took a seat. He was well aware of Liu Ying’s current situation. “That’s true enough, but isn’t that just worrying about what-ifs? SK’s got this monster top laner I never even imagined, and that’s pretty damn impressive, right? Talent’s unpredictable like that. What the hell was he doing playing support before? Making starting roster in two weeks—even Ziwu took a full month back in the day.”

Yu Jin leaned back against the sofa, a flicker of inexplicable pride in his eyes. Lao Xun noticed but didn’t dwell on it.

“The bosses upstairs told me you bought this guy,” Lao Xun said, gripping the armrest. “When did you two hook up?”

Yu Jin lit a cigarette. “Three years ago.”

He tossed one over to Lao Xun.

Lao Xun caught it neatly and frowned. “You’re joking, right?”

Yu Jin toyed with his cigarette. “Believe it or not.”

Lao Xun glanced back over his shoulder. Yu Jin wasn’t the type to talk big. Lao Xun blinked, straightened up, and lowered his voice. “Seriously, three years ago?”

Yu Jin looked up at him, his gaze rock-solid certain.

Lao Xun knit his brows. “Hold on, wasn’t he with SK…”

“We had a little spat,” Yu Jin said as smoke curled upward from his cigarette. “Someone poached him out from under me.”

Lao Xun leaned back with a satisfied nod. “Ah, now it clicks. How’s a support player supposed to catch your eye for top lane talent? So you two hooked up three years back. Thirty million, and the bosses didn’t reimburse you?”

“Didn’t ask for it.”

“You didn’t?” Lao Xun looked baffled. “You shelled out thirty million from your own pocket?”

“Yeah.” Yu Jin nodded. “He’s worth it.”

Lao Xun shook his head. “Nah, it’s not even about worth. He’s team property now, an official member. When he blows up, the team’s getting its cut. You don’t claim that thirty mil from upstairs? You’re just eating the loss?”

“Not a loss,” Yu Jin said frankly. “I got way more out of the deal.”

Lao Xun couldn’t quite parse the look in Yu Jin’s eyes. They’d been around each other long enough, but this was the first time he truly couldn’t read the man.

He mulled it over for a moment before giving up. Lao Xun glanced toward the training room, lit his own cigarette, and said, “Alright, you’ve got the sharp eye. I trust you. Kid’s gotta have something special. Just hope he doesn’t get picked on.”

Yu Jin said nothing, letting the hand holding his cigarette rest idly at his side.

Lao Xun cut to the chase. “Jiu Ke.”

The answer was no surprise. Yu Jin took a deep drag, stubbed out the cigarette after a few puffs, rose to his feet, and declared with utter conviction, “Not a chance.”

In the training room, Yun Qi had barely settled into his seat when Jiu Ke came over.

Nearby eyes locked onto the pair. Jiu Ke gripped the back of Yun Qi’s chair. “You’ve been busy streaming the last couple days, so our thing got pushed back. I’m free now. Let’s go—practice time.”

Yun Qi knew exactly where he stood: the fresh meat in the team. He had to show out. People were already side-eyeing him; no need to make another enemy. He’d lived through team drama before. He’d take all the online trolls in the world over internal beef any day.

So even with his own training queued up, he tabled it. “Sure. Logging in now.”

Jiu Ke clapped his shoulder with a loaded grin. “Give ’em hell.”

He headed back to his spot.

Their stations were a fair distance apart.

The starting roster clustered together, while the subs huddled in their corner. Word spread fast about the incoming solo duel—mid-game trainees paused everything and stood, buzzing with gossip. “You guys really going at it?”

Tension crackled through the training room.

Pan Feng got to his feet too, whispering, “Yun Qi, you sure about dueling Jiu Ke?”

Yun Qi nodded. “Gave him my word.”

Pan Feng shot a look at Jiu Ke. Liu Ying and the crew had clustered up, grilling him on it. Off-the-record 1v1s were routine after training blocks to gauge progress, so this wouldn’t normally turn heads. But not this time. Yun Qi was a legend among the trial trainees, and Jiu Ke—lacking the two-week rocket to starting roster—still reigned undisputed as a top 3 national server top laner. Peak Period veteran versus rising phenom? Pure fireworks.

Pan Feng had poked around the second team lately and overheard the trial kids dubbing Yun Qi “Top Lane Daddy.” His top laning was “pervertedly” strong, they said, slapping on the “Top Laner Demon King” tag. No shock on the third floor—the second team echoed it. Ask how he stacked up to prime Jiu Ke? Dead silence.

That hush didn’t mean Yun Qi fell short. Their faces screamed deeper respect.

A mere trial trainee leaving a battle-hardened top laner at a loss for words? Right then, Pan Feng knew: this guy was the real deal.

Pan Feng buzzed with excitement, though he couldn’t shake his worries about the training room setup. Jiu Ke had crushed plenty of trial trainees already and had been a mainstay on KRO for the past two years. Winning was one thing, but losing…

That would be a nightmare.

“What are you all up to?” Yu Jin asked as he stepped inside.

The whole group had clustered behind Jiu Ke, abandoning their stations. Yu Jin took one look at the scene, glanced toward Yun Qi, and pieced it together.

“A solo match,” Liu Ying replied, turning back and pointing at Yun Qi. “Jiu Ke versus Milk Cap.”

For a split second, Yun Qi blanked on who Liu Ying meant by Milk Cap. He still hadn’t gotten used to the new player ID.

At the sound of Yu Jin’s voice, Yun Qi whipped his head around for a quick look. Yu Jin noticed right away and didn’t head back to his own seat. Instead, he strode straight toward Yun Qi.

Yun Qi spun back around in a hurry, his hands fluttering uncertainly.

By the time he sensed Yu Jin right behind him, he busied himself clicking the mouse, aimlessly browsing the shop. What was there to browse on his full-skins pro account? It was just a cover for his nerves.

“Can I take him on in a solo? Is that okay?” Yun Qi asked without turning his head. Pan Feng stood off to the side, unsure who the question was aimed at.

Pan Feng opened his mouth to agree, but Yu Jin beat him to it. “Sure.”

He’d been asking Brother Jin.

Pan Feng clamped his lips shut just in time, relieved he hadn’t chimed in.

The approval eased a bit of Yun Qi’s tension. He turned to survey the scene: a crowd had gathered around Jiu Ke. Lao Xun had wandered in too, asked what the commotion in the training room was about, and promptly joined the onlookers behind Jiu Ke. Everyone seemed pumped for the showdown—except Ziwu, who watched for a moment before shrugging and returning to his seat.

He probably figured there was no need for all the fanfare. The result was a foregone conclusion.

Jiu Ke fired up a custom room and sent Yun Qi an invite. Yun Qi’s heart leaped into his throat all over again. Jiu Ke was on his pro account—the one that showed up in official matches—with a generic landscape photo as the avatar for now. Yun Qi still had the default headshot; he hadn’t gotten around to changing it.

Once inside the room, Jiu Ke started the match. No prior agreement on heroes; it was a pure test of instinct and understanding. Who had the strongest top laner? That was up to their personal mastery.

Death Angel dominated the early game in this patch and was perfect for solos, but Yun Qi passed on it. His eyes flicked briefly over the icon before moving on.

“Pick your first hero carefully,” Pan Feng murmured in his ear. “Jiu Ke’s got Phila, Fist Lion, and Tuxie on lock—no weaknesses. His hero pool runs deep, and he’s strong on every top laner.”

Yun Qi nodded. “Got it.”

Pan Feng wasn’t sure if he actually had a plan in mind. He glanced over at Jiu Ke’s screen and saw the hero already locked in.

Yun Qi scanned his options and settled on Gares.

On the loading screen, he saw Jiu Ke had gone with Yuri.

Gares held the early edge over Yuri. A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. “Not bad. Smart pick.”

The 1v1 map was a single lane: minion waves, defense towers, bushes, but no jungle camps. Just two towers guarding the nexus crystal. Whoever smashed the enemy’s first lost.

They both stepped out to farm the wave. Gares’s Q dealt lightning damage—not a huge area, three-second cooldown. Yun Qi used it to last-hit while chipping at Jiu Ke’s health bar. Yuri had no flight ability; without closing the gap, he couldn’t deal damage.

Two Qs landed, and Yuri’s health dropped noticeably. He fell back. Yun Qi didn’t chase. The next wave rolled in, and he chained Q into W to clear it swiftly.

“Looking solid—no missed last hits,” Liu Ying commented, eyeing Gares on screen. “Find an opening to stick to him, or that Q will keep harassing you. Tough to touch him without eating poke.”

Jiu Ke replied, “Working on it.”

Jiu Ke lunged in for a face-check. Yun Qi sensed it coming. Gares’s W gave a short dash—two charges, fifteen-second cooldown—but it was plenty mobile, on par with Yuri. Enemy advances, he retreated, landing Qs to whittle down the health bar. Yuri’s HP kept draining until he had no choice but to pull back.

Time for him to base and recover.

In a solo, you couldn’t just recall on the spot—you had to run all the way back to the fountain. That delay gave Yun Qi plenty of time to shove the wave right up to the First Tower.

“Push that First Tower fast…” Pan Feng urged.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a shadow burst from the bush. Yun Qi reacted quickly, but Yuri’s ult locked on, glued tight. They traded blows in a brutal skirmish amid shouts from the crowd. Gares’s health plummeted; a half-health Yuri turned it around for the kill.

A collective sigh rose from the onlookers. Someone muttered, “Still young and green.”