He owed Tata too much. Over these years, he hadn’t fulfilled any of his duties as its owner, just dumping it on Yu Jin without a second thought. Now, he’d agree to anything Yun Qi wanted for the cat’s sake. It wasn’t entirely selfless, though—he had his own selfish reasons. He couldn’t openly make amends to Yu Jin or do much to compensate him directly, so this was the next best thing: making it up to Tata and hoping Yu Jin would get the message.
Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the door.
Yun Qi looked up and saw Rong Rong standing in the doorway. Rong Rong seemed surprised to find Yu Jin there. He gave Yu Jin a nod before turning to Yun Qi. “Mind stepping out for a second?”
Yun Qi set Tata down, glanced back at Yu Jin, and said, “Of course.”
He got to his feet and headed out, pulling the door shut behind him. He figured Rong Rong had something to say—something Yu Jin probably shouldn’t hear.
Rong Rong didn’t ask why Yu Jin had been in Yun Qi’s room. Straight to the point and earnest, he said, “I’m sorry.”
Yun Qi knew exactly what this was about.
“Yesterday, I didn’t have all the facts straight,” Rong Rong explained. “I’ve spent the last couple days talking to someone who knows the full story. You were the victim here, no question. Calling you out for burning bridges like that? That was out of line on my part.”
“It’s fine,” Yun Qi replied.
Misunderstandings happened all the time. What was rare was someone swallowing their pride to offer a genuine apology. Plenty of people would let the misconception fester, even after learning the truth—too caught up in their ego to admit they’d wronged someone.
They’d just let the hurt linger, pretending nothing had happened, leaving the victim to deal with the fallout for who knew how long.
“I don’t know Qingmo all that well,” Rong Rong went on. “I took things at face value and bought into the drama those other streamers were stirring up. That was careless of me. I’m really sorry.” He was sincere, matching the good impression Yun Qi had always had of him. Streamers often praised Rong Rong’s character, and even the Pro League casters had given him glowing reviews for his integrity. The guy was genuinely one of the good ones.
Rong Rong still looked sheepish about that time he’d crowded Yun Qi’s spot to force him to slip up. “Truth is, I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve seen those videos floating around online—the ones about you. Streamers talk a lot of trash, painting you in a bad light… and I fell for it. I really thought there was something off about your character.”
“And now, Brother Rongrong?” Yun Qi asked. “Do you still think there’s something wrong with me?” He didn’t want to be at odds with Rong Rong. He’d liked him even before they’d really talked.
“Don’t remind me,” Rong Rong groaned, rubbing his temple. “I’m embarrassed. I actually turned into one of those internet keyboard warriors. Just chalk yesterday up to me being drunk.”
Yun Qi smiled. “No worries.”
Rong Rong was earnest. “I’ve been looking for a chance to apologize all day, but you were in that solo queue with Jiu Ke, so I didn’t want to interrupt. Speaking of which, I have to say—you’re incredible. Playing the long game like that back in SK, huh?”
“No more playing possum from now on.”
Rong Rong had watched their matches today, and it had given him a whole new perspective on the guy standing before him. “Liu Ying was talking about you this afternoon, too. Said you really caught everyone off guard. Even the game Jiu Ke won didn’t feel like a real win for him. Losing even one to you would’ve bruised his ego—he’s the hottest Top Laner in the scene right now, after all.”
Yun Qi got it. Even if Jiu Ke ended up resenting him for real, he wouldn’t hold a grudge. No one wanted to be replaced. In the old days, maybe he’d have gone to check on Jiu Ke, but Yu Jin had made it clear earlier: no one here needed his pity. Jiu Ke would sort himself out, so Yun Qi wasn’t about to force the issue.
“No one wants to get pushed out,” Yun Qi said. “I get it. Hope he keeps grinding hard.”
“He’ll be fine,” Rong Rong assured him. “It’s you I’m worried about. Don’t get complacent. I know Jiu Ke well—he’s the type who builds up quietly over time. Maybe he can’t match your raw talent, but he clawed his way out of Youth Training as the top prospect back in the day through sheer grit and hard work. After all this time building up, he won’t go down without a fight. Watch your back and don’t underestimate him.”
“Got it. Thanks, Brother Rongrong.” Yun Qi thanked him, and with that, yesterday’s tension dissolved. They were good.
When Yun Qi returned to the room, he’d almost forgotten there was someone else there. He looked up to see Yu Jin leaning back in the chair, waiting. Yun Qi walked over. “There was a misunderstanding between me and him.”
“I figured,” Yu Jin said knowingly. “Yesterday’s bad mood had to be because of something Rong Rong said, right?”
It wasn’t surprising that Yu Jin could guess. Rong Rong coming to find him—a guy they rarely interacted with day-to-day—meant he must have had a reason for it. Pan Feng had mentioned that Yu Jin hated seeing discord in the team, so Yun Qi, afraid of any misunderstanding, quickly added, “I’ve already sorted things out with him. You don’t need to go talk to him on the side.”
But Yu Jin picked up on something else. “Are you worried I’ll go after him?”
“No, but…”
“Relax. I like Rong Rong just fine,” Yu Jin said. “And anyway, when he clashes with someone, he doesn’t need me stepping in. He handles it himself, doesn’t he?”
That was true. Rong Rong was plenty mature, and he dealt with problems accordingly. Yun Qi scratched at the ends of his hair, realizing he’d overthought the whole thing.
“That aside,” Yu Jin said, his gaze sharpening, “why would you think I’d stir up trouble with someone else over you?”
“I didn’t think that…”
“You didn’t?” Yu Jin’s expression turned shrewd. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have bothered warning me.”
Yun Qi fell silent.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said a word.
Thinking it over, why had he assumed Yu Jin would take his side? Why would he step in and talk to Rong Rong for him? They were teammates, after all—years of sticking together. Yun Qi was just the asshole who’d dumped him right before the Grand Tournament, the unforgivable ex no one wanted to claim.
Yun Qi had no answer. He kept his head down as Tata let out a plaintive mewl like a sob. The two of them stayed quiet until Yu Jin finally spoke. “Mind if I ask you something?”
Yun Qi nodded.
Yu Jin held up a small white bottle, English lettering printed on the side. “What’s this?”
Yun Qi’s head snapped up. His heart clenched. He lunged forward in a panic to grab it, but Yu Jin lifted his arm higher. Yun Qi ended up tumbling straight into his embrace.
“Give it back…” Yun Qi trembled all over. He didn’t even register how close he was to Yu Jin—like that bratty kid from grade school who always yanked the ponytail of the girl sitting in front of him. Yun Qi didn’t have a ponytail, but the fury boiling in him felt even worse.
His voice came out soft and soggy, like cotton candy soaked in water, utterly lacking conviction. He clutched at Yu Jin’s shirt, too mortified to lift his head. “Give it back, Captain Yu…”
Yu Jin, dead set on teasing him, refused. He kept his arm raised high. Yun Qi looked for all the world like he was draped over him, sobbing. Yu Jin’s gaze darkened, the mischief fading from his eyes, leaving only earnest intensity. In a low voice, he asked, “What did you call me?”
Yun Qi said nothing, just kept clutching his shirt, face buried in his chest. It was as if he were greedily breathing in that scent from Yu Jin’s body—the one that set his blood on fire—or hiding his shameful secret like an ostrich with its head in the sand, fingers clenched so tight the color drained from his knuckles.
Yu Jin clearly took issue with the way he’d been addressed. When Yun Qi didn’t budge, he called his name again, displeasure lacing his tone. “Yun Qi.”
Yun Qi didn’t look up, acting like he hadn’t heard.
Slowly, Yu Jin lowered his hand. His lips brushed against Yun Qi’s hair, carrying a faint fragrance. His expression softened, and with a strange stubbornness, he murmured, “Say my name again.”
Yun Qi’s heart thudded wildly, loud enough to make him tense.
He felt Yu Jin’s hand come down and trailed his fingers along the man’s arm, snatching the bottle back into his own palm. Yu Jin had let him have it without resistance.
But he still didn’t change his tune.
The only ways he ever addressed Yu Jin were either stiffly formal or dangerously intimate—and right now, the latter felt off-limits.
Yu Jin let him stay there, sprawled against him. Seconds ticked by. Yun Qi was relieved the label was all in English; it would take Yu Jin a minute to puzzle it out, if he even bothered. Had his reaction been too over-the-top? Had he given himself away?
Clutching the little bottle tight, Yun Qi tested the waters. “Can… you read English?”
Yun Qi’s hair was soft and smooth, falling simply over his delicate features without any fancy style. Like that stray cat around the corner, he could be sweet and docile one moment, all teeth and claws the next—it all depended on whether you’d stepped on his tail.
Dark undercurrents churned in Yu Jin’s eyes. That faint scent crept into his nose. He remembered a rumor he’d stumbled across once—someone claiming Yun Qi’s most private places smelled sweet…
It had sounded ridiculous on the face of it. But right then, an impulse stirred in him, tempting him to find out for himself.
Yu Jin’s silence only heightened Yun Qi’s panic. He looked up, locking eyes with those impenetrable depths. They stared at each other for a long moment before Yu Jin finally said, “Do you want me to be able to read it?”
Of course Yun Qi didn’t. But in that moment, all he cared about was covering his tracks, so he kept every reaction measured. His face stayed perfectly calm, like it wouldn’t matter either way if Yu Jin could make it out.
“You’ve been very deliberate these past two days,” Yu Jin voiced what was weighing on his mind. With no one else around, he came across as aggressively confrontational. “Deliberately keeping your distance from me, deliberately avoiding any contact with me—not even willing to meet my eyes. What’s the matter? Afraid others will notice that we once had a fling?”
Just like that, they continued diverting the conversation until his attention had completely shifted away from the medicine bottle.
“Do you actually want others to know?”
Yun Qi picked up on his topic seamlessly. For one thing, he wanted to divert Yu Jin’s attention; for another, he wanted to gauge Yu Jin’s stance on the issue. It was the perfect opportunity, especially since Yu Jin had brought it up himself.
“I won’t deliberately advertise it, but I won’t go out of my way to avoid suspicion either,” Yu Jin replied. “That would only make it seem more suspicious.”
Yes, paying too much attention to Yu Jin was no good, and keeping too much distance was just as bad. With so many sharp-minded people around, some were bound to pick up on the odd vibe between them. But what could he do? He was nearly driven mad by the relentless desire churning in his heart. How he treated Yu Jin wasn’t up to him anymore—like a thief, he greedily savored Yu Jin’s scent while terrified of being caught. No matter how stormy his inner world grew, on the surface he could only feign calm. “You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t avoid you so much…”
Yun Qi realized their proximity was far too intimate, yet he didn’t pull away.
Fine, let him lose his mind and toss all night without sleep—in exchange for this fleeting moment of satisfaction and touch. It would at least soothe those dark impulses.
But right at that moment, Yun Qi suddenly felt a warm grip on his waist.
Yu Jin’s hand had clasped his waist.
Yun Qi felt his breathing fall into complete disarray.
He looked up, meeting Yu Jin’s dark, shadowy eyes.
Yu Jin leaned down, his tone a mix of warning and soft entreaty. “I’m not some cat or dog you can toy with back and forth. Don’t go hot and cold on me.”
Yun Qi’s eyes grew misty—he was teetering right on the edge of climax.
His hand clutching Yu Jin’s clothes tightened imperceptibly, as if only that could counter the pressure at his waist.
Yu Jin’s gaze trailed from his eyes to his earlobes, his breathing growing noticeably heavier. “Even as your ex, I can’t take it.”
