“Whatever you say.” The sub flashed a half-hearted smile and bounced. Yun Qi figured, yeah, some folks were already salty. Jiu Ke himself hadn’t piped up, but his defenders sure were itching to fight his battles.
Yun Qi ducked his head and stared at the screen, mulling it over for a minute. He didn’t beat himself up about it, though. Rookies had to weather this kind of thing.
Upstairs on the balcony, Yun Qi paused for a bit. A hanging chair swung there, Tata sprawled across it. He scooped up the cat, glanced around—no one in sight, chair spotless—and settled in.
All-day screen time left his eyes burning. Yun Qi gazed out at the horizon. The courtyard brimmed with greenery, perfect for giving them a rest. He sank into the chair and mulled over his time here so far.
KRO was billed online as one of the country’s elite esports teams—a so-called “Hell Team.” Now that he’d lived it, Yun Qi saw the rumors for the nonsense they were. Pure outsider fantasy. Top squads weren’t heartless machines. Far from it—KRO’s setup was downright player-friendly. No grueling marathon sessions, no mandatory streams, no bullshit rules eating up energy and downtime. Seven hours was generous for pros. SK pushed for a full ten, and most other teams matched that. The Hell Team rep? Busted, as far as Yun Qi was concerned.
Grinding could edge you past your peers, sure. But it wouldn’t spark any real breakthroughs. Talent ruled this world, and KRO’s schedule proved they got that. No squeezing players dry. Time was plentiful; Yun Qi just tended to push past it, which made him look busier than most.
He’d put in the work over these past days. The spars with Jiu Ke were done. Finally, Yun Qi could breathe. The tension in his nerves unwound a touch as he savored the lazy evening from the hanging chair.
The seat swayed gently.
Tata fidgeted in his lap after a while. Yun Qi peered down. The cat was sniffing around, hunting for something. He checked the balcony—Tata’s cat tree towered in layers, toys scattered up top, food and water dishes nearby. The bowl sat empty, but a stash of kibble lined the shelf. Yun Qi poured some in. Tata ignored it.
“What’s the matter?” Yun Qi stroked Tata’s head, trying to puzzle it out. The cat just meowed.
No help for it. Yun Qi scooped Tata up and headed inside. He had no clue if Yu Jin was around. The guy had vanished from the Training Room after Yun Qi’s afternoon solos with Jiu Ke. Endless business kept him in constant motion, always half here, half gone.
Yun Qi hesitated for a little while. Tata kept meowing, so he mustered his courage and knocked on Yu Jin’s door. After quite some time with no answer, he knocked twice more. At that moment, Chang Shu stepped out from the room next door.
Yun Qi stopped knocking and said apologetically, “Sorry…”
Chang Shu walked over. Seeing him cradling the cat, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s been meowing nonstop. I don’t know what’s going on, so I wanted to ask Captain Yu.” Yun Qi glanced down at Tata. Its meows had quieted a little, but it kept looking around restlessly. He’d never seen it act like this before, and Yun Qi wasn’t entirely reassured.
“Captain Yu isn’t here,” Chang Shu said. “He headed to Headquarters with Lao Xun this afternoon. Won’t be back until late, probably.”
“Then…” Yun Qi didn’t know what to do.
“Is it sick?” Chang Shu reached out to check Tata’s forehead, just like he would with a person. But the moment his hand extended, Tata’s meows grew louder and sharper, its gaze turning fierce.
Chang Shu jerked his hand back and took a step away. Over the past couple of days, he’d watched Yun Qi handle it so casually and assumed it had mellowed out. Clearly, it was still just as vicious.
Yun Qi noticed Chang Shu’s reaction and placed his hand on Tata’s head. “It’s not feverish.”
Chang Shu tilted his head for a look. “Doesn’t seem sick, either. Possessed or something?”
Yun Qi flipped Tata around to face him and peered into its eyes for a moment. “Has it ever done this before?”
Chang Shu shook his head. “No clue. It won’t let anyone touch it, so who knows.”
“It’s so baffling.” Yun Qi thought for a second. “Doesn’t the KRO Base have a doctor?”
Chang Shu understood what he meant and explained, “That’s for people. No vet.”
He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s probably fine. Just keep an eye on it. Captain Yu should be back soon anyway.”
“Guess that’s our only option.” Yun Qi let Tata drape over his shoulder, its soft fur brushing against his skin.
Chang Shu watched as Yun Qi manipulated Tata without provoking any aggression and couldn’t help marveling, “It really likes you, huh? Total double standard.”
Yun Qi gave Tata’s body a rub. It had some heft to it—its frame was on the larger side—so he had to support it with a bit of finesse. After hearing Chang Shu’s words and witnessing Tata’s hostility toward him earlier, Yun Qi asked, “Does it not warm up to anyone else at all?”
Chang Shu replied, “It scratched me once before. Acts like it hates everyone’s guts. Impossible to tame. No idea why.”
“At least it knows who its master is.” Yun Qi noted. The little cat was clever—fierce with outsiders but knowing enough to hold back around Yu Jin. Given Yu Jin’s temperament, he might actually give it a scolding, but Yun Qi wouldn’t. Yun Qi couldn’t bring himself to.
“Of course it knows. Aside from Captain Yu and you, no one dares go near the balcony. Before you showed up, it ticked off Captain Yu so bad it didn’t even have anyone to feed it.” Chang Shu watched uneasily as Yun Qi let the Little White-Eyed Wolf’s claws rest so close to his neck. He offered a friendly warning, “You really shouldn’t hold it like that. If it flips out and scratches you, it won’t be worth it.”
“It’s okay.” Yun Qi hefted Tata in his arms with firm confidence. “It won’t.”
Chang Shu didn’t press the issue.
It was almost eight o’clock by the time Yu Jin returned.
Yun Qi had been in his room playing with Tata. He’d even brought its toys inside, but Tata was listless and uninterested, so he simply let it scamper around freely.
Chang Shu had said Yu Jin would be back around six or seven, but now it was well past eight. Yun Qi hadn’t checked his phone and hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. He stepped out into the hall to see if Yu Jin had returned—and there he was, having just arrived and chatting with someone in the common area. Yun Qi lingered at the edge of the stairs, waiting for him to come up. But after finishing his talk with Lao Xun, Yu Jin headed off toward the Streaming Room.
Yun Qi considered calling out but held back—it wouldn’t look right with others around. He glanced back at the cat in his room, shut the door, and went downstairs to find him.
Other than his own room and the Training Room, Yun Qi hadn’t explored much since his first day. He had no idea which room Yu Jin and Lao Xun had gone into. The Streaming Rooms he poked his head into were empty, save for a few substitutes gaming away. They glanced up at him; Yun Qi gave a quick nod and moved on.
Finally, at the door to one Streaming Room, he heard voices—Lao Xun’s. The two were murmuring in low tones. Yun Qi waited a moment, then leaned against the wall to listen in.
He never would have imagined back then that one day simply seeing Yu Jin would be such a challenge. The harder it got, the greater the distance between them, and the more Yun Qi felt his own greed bordering on the sinful. His feelings for Yu Jin only seemed to grow deeper with every mile and every passing day. When they’d first started dating, they couldn’t bear to be apart—they wished they could see each other eight hundred times a day. Even after the shortest meetings, parting was agony; they always had to kiss and touch until they were utterly sated before they could let go.
Even at home, the messages kept flying back and forth. Yun Qi had layered his phone with locks upon locks to keep anyone from discovering them—especially his parents. A straight-A student sneaking around with a boyfriend behind Mom and Dad’s back? If they ever found out it was a guy, God only knew what kind of explosion that would be.
Yun Qi couldn’t help feeling like his life had been one long string of hardships. First came this shameful illness he couldn’t tell a soul about, and now he’d gone and fallen for a man. It was like he was doomed to a lifetime of turbulence.
He wasn’t even that old—not even mid-twenties yet—and yet it felt like he’d already lived through everything life could throw at him, the good, the bad, and the unthinkable.
Lost in memories of the past, Yun Qi’s emotions began their familiar roller-coaster plunge. But the bitter lesson from last time kept him from spiraling too far.
Someone spoke up from beside him, snapping him out of it. “Having fun?”
Yun Qi blinked and realized Yu Jin was standing right there, studying him intently. He had no idea when Yu Jin had snuck up—must’ve been a minute or two, judging by the casual way he stood.
Yun Qi glanced around. No sign of Lao Xun. “You finished up?”
Yu Jin shrugged. “Saw you standing here lost in your own world for a good while. Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re messing with me.”
“Not at all. Something you need?”
Only then did Yun Qi remember why he’d come looking. “Yeah, Tata’s been yowling nonstop. No clue what’s wrong.”
Yu Jin’s expression flickered with disappointment. “That’s it?”
Leaning against the wall, Yun Qi shot back, “What’d you think it was?”
Yu Jin dropped his gaze to the floor, sidestepping the question. “Where’s the cat?”
“In my room.”
Yun Qi led the way upstairs to his room. He pushed open the door, and there was Tata perched in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Yun Qi glanced back at Yu Jin, scooped up the cat, and held it out to him.
“It’s quiet now,” Yun Qi said. “But it was going at it all evening, and it’s not feverish or anything.”
Yu Jin gently gripped Tata’s head. “Yowling?”
“Yeah,” Yun Qi replied. “No idea why. Wouldn’t stop.”
Yu Jin took the cat from his arms and slipped a hand under its belly, feeling around for a moment. Normal temperature. “It’s fine. Nothing wrong.”
Still worried, Yun Qi pressed, “You sure? Then why all the noise?”
“It’s in heat,” Yu Jin said, cradling Tata as his eyes locked onto Yun Qi with burning intensity. “Desperate for something—or someone—to take the edge off.”
The words were aimed straight at Yun Qi.
His heart clenched. Yun Qi looked up, and Yu Jin’s stare felt like invisible hands roaming every inch of his body. Nothing had even happened, but Yun Qi felt exposed, vulnerable. “W-what are you getting at…?”
“Don’t understand?” Yu Jin replied coolly. “I mean, at a certain time, in a certain place, cats get horny too. Just like people. Full belly, warm bed—lewd thoughts follow.”
Yun Qi took a small step back, so tiny he thought it would go unnoticed.
Yu Jin raked his gaze over him once more, then set Tata down. “Drop it off at the Cat Shelter in a couple days. Let it get its rocks off.”
The base only had the one cat, so Tata’s heat wasn’t doing anyone any favors. Yun Qi had heard some shelters offered breeding services—matching pets by genetics and purity, for a price.
A cat like Tata would be in high demand. Great looks, impeccable bloodline. Yu Jin had shelled out a small fortune for it back in his student days—a king’s ransom for most people. You could tell its purity just from the coat and conformation.
“Tata’s a boy,” Yun Qi pointed out. “How’s he supposed to mate?”
“Find him a little lady friend.”
“You make it sound so casual,” Yun Qi said. He crouched down and lifted one of Tata’s front paws, his eyes brimming with pity. “Like some kind of business deal.”
Yu Jin snorted. “What else? Should I play matchmaker? Find him someone from a good family, do the whole three letters and six rites ceremony, throw a lavish wedding, and escort him to the bridal chamber?”
Yun Qi glanced up at him, then went back to stroking Tata’s head, murmuring softly, “Then… can I come along when you do it?”
“If you want to, I don’t mind.”
“Find one he’ll really like,” Yun Qi added. “Tata’s so handsome—tons of little females would go for him. Maybe we could even bring her back here, let them set up house and…”
“Out of the question,” Yu Jin cut in. “One of him is trouble enough. Two? No way this place could handle it.”
Yun Qi pouted. “You’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”
He scooped Tata back into his arms. “If you don’t want to keep it, then leave it with me. I’ll put it in my room—I won’t mind the extra company.”
