Chapter 39 Part 1

Yun Qi turned his face away. “You have to punish me for this too?”

Hearing the reluctance in his voice, Yu Jin’s eyes gained a hint of amusement, though his expression remained impassive. He glanced at the monitor. The screen displayed the game lobby interface, faint overlapping figures visible in the background. “Not willing to accept it?”

Yun Qi turned back around and murmured, “No.”

He was already here, so he’d make the best of it. Whatever rules the esports team had, he’d follow them. It probably wouldn’t be anything too severe anyway, so Yun Qi didn’t dwell on it. “So, how’s the punishment going to work?”

There was a pleasant scent on Yu Jin, something woody and reassuring, utterly unique. Yun Qi wasn’t sure if it was just him who could smell it or if everyone else could too, but he found himself secretly looking forward to it. Out of Yu Jin’s sight, he even closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unexpected calm it brought.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Yu Jin said. “We’ll put it on hold for now.”

Yun Qi hesitated before opening his eyes. He was tucked under the curve of Yu Jin’s arm, so he cautiously unfurled his fingers and slid his hand out from under the desk, resting it on top—but still careful not to touch Yu Jin’s skin. He muttered, “So stingy.”

Yu Jin’s voice took on a coaxing lilt. “Hm?”

Yun Qi hadn’t really wanted to say it out loud, but he couldn’t help wondering what team rule he’d supposedly broken. “I just forgot. It wasn’t on purpose. You’re punishing me for that, but I won our duel earlier and you didn’t even mention a reward…”

“Oh.” Yu Jin caught the implication. “Want a reward?”

Yun Qi immediately realized how that had sounded and backpedaled in a panic. “No, I mean… merits and demerits should cancel each other out, right?”

“No canceling,” Yu Jin said ruthlessly. “Winning the duel was your achievement. Forgetting what you promised me is between us. To offset it, you’d need something else that benefits me.”

He kept score like a ledger.

Seeing that Yu Jin was dead set on punishing him, Yun Qi stopped squirming. Fine, whatever. He slumped forward, fiddling with the edge of the desk. “Then do whatever the team says…”

With Yun Qi leaning down like that, Yu Jin had a clear view down the wide collar of his shirt from his vantage point. Memories flooded back in an instant, sending a rush of blood to his head. Yu Jin straightened up abruptly and stood behind the chair in silence for a long moment.

Yun Qi noticed the arm withdrawing and glanced back. Something seemed off about Yu Jin’s expression, but he didn’t ask. “So, am I just practicing sensitivity today?”

Yu Jin glanced at his computer screen. “Mm.”

“What about you?” Yun Qi asked.

Yu Jin didn’t reply. His gaze fixed on Yun Qi, as if to say, And what business is that of yours?

Yun Qi pressed, “What are you doing today?”

Yu Jin’s tone turned sharp. “Now you’re managing me?”

What was with him?

Yun Qi picked up on the edge in his voice and wisely turned back around without another word.

From behind him, Yu Jin said, “Two days focused on this. It’ll improve your micro accuracy. No more messing around in random matches.”

Yun Qi nodded.

Most players cranked their sensitivity high out of habit—even pros tweaked it to their preferences and overlooked tiny discrepancies. It was no big deal. But Yu Jin was exacting on this point, and Yun Qi wouldn’t question him.

He’d practice diligently until he mastered it.

Yu Jin left.

Realizing he was gone, Yun Qi felt a twinge of disappointment. He pursed his lips, shut down his computer, and started packing up his things.

Pan Feng came back and noticed what he was doing. “Eh? What’s going on?”

Yun Qi replied offhandedly, “Nothing. Just switching seats.”

Pan Feng, who sat directly across from him, blinked in confusion. “Switching to where?”

Yun Qi pointed in a direction.

Pan Feng’s eyes widened in surprise. “Opposite Brother Jin?”

Yun Qi nodded.

“Did Brother Jin tell you to?”

Yun Qi shrugged. “I probably have a lot to improve on. It’s inconvenient for him if I’m too far away.”

Pan Feng hesitated for a moment before returning to his own seat. He stared at Yun Qi’s target spot, puzzled. “That’s weird. Brother Jin doesn’t let anyone sit there. He says it blocks his view. The spot behind it has a nice window—super comfy. Liu Ying wanted to take it before, but he wouldn’t allow it.”

Yun Qi hadn’t known about that. He looked over. The seat was empty on both sides, as if deliberately left vacant. Just because of the window? Sure, the floor-to-ceiling glass offered a great view, but one person sitting there wouldn’t block much.

Yu Jin wouldn’t let anyone else sit there… but he was allowing Yun Qi? The realization sent his heart fluttering.

There was no computer at the new spot—clearly, it wasn’t meant for anyone. Yun Qi ended up hauling his setup over. Pan Feng jumped in to help enthusiastically, even offering to assemble it for him. Yun Qi crouched by the chair and waved him off. “No need. I can handle it.”

Pan Feng shrugged. “Alright then. Do your thing.”

Yun Qi replied, “Sure, thanks.”

Pan Feng stared at him for a moment. “It’s just that you’re too far from me now. It’s hard to even chat.”

Yun Qi looked up with a bright smile. “No worries. You can just message me if you need anything.”

Pan Feng nodded. Across from Yun Qi sat Yu Jin. Pan Feng lingered for a bit before bending down and whispering a reminder. “The guy opposite you is Brother Jin. Normally, the old man won’t pick on you out of nowhere. Brother Jin’s a decent fellow, but there’s one thing—don’t get into any conflicts right under his nose. Remember that. He hates internal team strife more than anything. If he catches wind of it, you won’t come out of it well.”

Yun Qi’s hands paused mid-assembly. “Who would I even clash with?”

Pan Feng glanced in one direction, then squatted down as well. The desk concealed them both, making the pair look suspiciously furtive. He continued, “Jiu Ke. You just beat him two games in a row. Brother Jiu Ke’s got a big heart and doesn’t mind, but Liu Ying and the others definitely have his back—they go way back. You’re the new guy, not fully integrated yet. They might freeze you out a little.”

Yun Qi had a tangle of cables in his hands. He slotted one into the graphics card port and turned to Pan Feng. Amid the well-intentioned advice, he asked, genuinely puzzled, “I’m a newbie to you too, aren’t I? You haven’t frozen me out. They… probably won’t either, right?”

“It’s different. I’m just a sub—not an official team member. Sure, I’ve got some history with them, but nothing like what the starters share.” Pan Feng sighed, a note of helplessness in his voice over his own position. “Besides, if you make the starting lineup, one of us subs is getting bumped down anyway—unless Jiu Ke refuses to sub in. You’re not competing in my role, so there’s no rivalry or overlap. Why would I freeze you out?”

It was the straight truth, and Yun Qi appreciated that about Pan Feng—he said what he meant. Yun Qi hated playing mind games. He could do it if he had to, but it always left him drained. He had no interest in going there again.

“Just take my advice to heart. Even if one of the starters doesn’t like you and you know it, don’t let it blow up in the Training Room. Don’t let Brother Jin spot it right under his eyes. You know Yi Yang? He butted heads with Ziwu once, spouted some real insubordinate nonsense. Brother Jin overheard and shipped him off to the Second Team. He still hasn’t made it back…”

Yun Qi straightened the PC tower and listened patiently. “Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Pan Feng had witnessed the kid’s skills firsthand, and now here he was, humble enough to take advice. His respect for this new Top Laner deepened. Someone like that was bound to thrive. Sure, blending into the team might take time for a fresh face, but given enough of it, Pan Feng figured no one in the Esports Team would end up disliking him.

People gravitated toward easygoing personalities. Arrogant types with a superiority complex and a wild streak? Fine to admire from the sidelines as a spectator. But as teammates? Give him mild-mannered, polite, and affable every time.

“Take your time setting up. I’m heading back to practice.” With his warnings delivered, Pan Feng stood and walked away.

Yun Qi watched him go, mulling over his words. Yu Jin brooked no discord in the team, and Yi Yang had gotten the boot over something like that. No wonder Brother Jin had declared SK finished during the Grand Finals. Everyone knew internal friction was poison for competitions. It was such a glaring problem—why hadn’t his old team treated it seriously?

They’d let everyone trash him openly and behind his back, slander him, question his every move. Yun Qi didn’t expect universal love—that was impossible. But at least during matches, when things went south, they shouldn’t pin it all on him.

He knew his support play wasn’t elite, but it wasn’t trash either. He’d never owned the blame others tried to dump on him. During tournaments, though, he held back from stirring the pot, staying silent every time. That only emboldened them further.

Maybe SK would improve after he left. He just didn’t mesh with that crew. Swap in someone new, and it might sort itself out. Who knew?

Yun Qi finished assembling the computer and had just settled into his seat when a large head poked over to peer at him. He startled. Glancing up, he asked, “What’s up?”

Liu Ying jerked his chin. “Seat swap?”

“Yeah.”

Liu Ying waved it off. “Nah, nothing. Just got a sudden pang in my chest.”

Yun Qi recalled what Pan Feng had said—Liu Ying had always wanted this spot, but Yu Jin hadn’t approved. He got the picture.

Liu Ying clutched his chest dramatically as he plopped down. Ziwu shot him a sidelong glance from the neighboring seat and told him to quit hamming it up.

Liu Ying grumbled a few lines, then buckled down to training.

After the solo duels with Jiu Ke wrapped up, Yun Qi did sense some subtle shifts.

For instance, the substitutes kept giving him curious looks over meals. He accidentally caught his name in some break room chatter. And Ziwu—who’d barely acknowledged him since day one—finally broke his silence that day. When Yun Qi was the last one left in the Training Room, Ziwu asked, “Still practicing?”

Yun Qi replied, “I’ll be done soon.”

Ziwu said nothing more. He shut down his computer and headed back to his room.

That cool-guy image of his hadn’t crumbled at all. If anything, it had grown even more vivid in Yun Qi’s mind. Yun Qi didn’t have any particular fondness for the archetype. Ziwu was handsome, no doubt about that, but this wasn’t aimed at him personally. Back in school, the class troublemakers—the ones always picking fights, stirring up chaos, and teasing him—had all leaned into that exact vibe. They acted like it made them cool. Like mocking others somehow boosted their status. Like it drew girls in.

And it did. Plenty of girls back then swooned over that type, while the mild-mannered, bookish top students got overlooked. Immature hearts chased the surface-level stuff. Yun Qi had read somewhere that “people fall in love with reflections of their own inner cravings.” What pulls you in reveals what you’re missing. Straight-laced girls chased rebel bad boys for the wild abandon they kept bottled up inside, while the thugs went after gentle scholars for the poise and drive they lacked.

On reflection, even a model student like himself had fallen for Yu Jin back in the day, which lined up perfectly with that idea. Deep down, he’d craved freedom—wild, uninhibited flair. And in the wilds of Yun Qi’s youth, no one embodied that more than Yu Jin.

Ziwu reminded him a bit of Yu Jin from three years back. Just dialed down on the sunshine, cranked up on the aloofness. Yu Jin’s smile had always been like a balm, at least. Yun Qi had never seen Ziwu crack one. Maybe he lit up around other people.

Yun Qi was the last one out of the Training Room.

One of the substitutes swung by to grab something and spotted him. “You’re grinding way too hard, man.”

Yun Qi shook his head. “Nah, there’s just a ton I still need to work on.”

“You already beat Jiu Ke. And you still practice? The guy’s Top 3 on the National Server as a top laner. Hell, no one dares claim first when he’s around. You’re set—chill out already.”

That sub had been hanging by Jiu Ke at lunch. Probably never saw the losses coming. After a beat, he tacked on, “Jiu Ke’s been streaming nonstop these past couple days, though. Two wins don’t mean squat. Don’t get too full of yourself.”

“I’m not.”