Chapter 46 Part 2

“No need,” Yu Jin said, closing his eyes. “I’m feeling better already. Go fetch a basin of water.”

Yun Qi shuffled off like a zombie to fill it.

He returned from the sink with a basin of clean water and knelt down again with a clatter. Yu Jin eyed his knee. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Yun Qi said. He dipped a warm towel into the water and wiped Yu Jin’s hand, starting from the fingertips and working toward the horrifying wound. His breathing grew ragged; he drew in a deep breath before gently dabbing at the injury. “Hang in there.”

The cut was deep, blood flowing ceaselessly in a long gash right across the center of his palm. Yun Qi gently pried open Yu Jin’s fingers and wiped them with care. The hot towel pressed against Yu Jin’s palm. Whether it was the reduced pain or something else, he gradually began to breathe more steadily. His gaze settled on Yun Qi’s eyelashes, taking in the sight of the man kneeling before him, handling everything with such delicate caution.

Yun Qi cleaned the blood from Yu Jin’s hand, but the wound was too deep and kept oozing fresh blood without end. He bit his lip fiercely. He couldn’t keep wiping like this—it wouldn’t get clean. There was so much blood, an overwhelming amount right in front of him. What he needed to do now was stop the bleeding, keep it from flowing out unchecked any longer.

He rummaged through the first aid kit, found the tools he needed, then looked up at Yu Jin for confirmation. The other man nodded, so Yun Qi tore open the packaging and wrapped hemostatic gauze around his palm. It was, of course, an agonizing step. Yun Qi noticed the veins bulging taut on Yu Jin’s arm, and his own lips trembled as he applied the bandage. It soaked through red in moments. Yun Qi hurriedly replaced it with a fresh one. Every time blood seeped through the gauze, he choked back a sob.

“Wait just a bit,” he said, his heart racing. “Once the bleeding stops, I’ll put on the medicine. Right now… there’s so much blood…”

“It’s fine,” Yu Jin soothed him. “I already feel better.”

How could it be? A wound that deep, bleeding nonstop—how could it possibly feel better? Yun Qi stayed by Yu Jin’s side, waiting it out together. They used everything at hand, but the blood kept welling up. Then Yu Jin noticed the wetness gathering at the corners of Yun Qi’s eyes.

Crystal teardrops clung to his lashes. Head bowed, Yun Qi bit down hard on his lower lip, the tension plain to see. Yu Jin reached out with his other hand and brushed away the warm droplet. “Why the tears?”

Yun Qi said nothing, clamping down on his lip all the harder.

Yu Jin frowned and tugged gently at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t bite it.”

Yun Qi acted as if he hadn’t heard, his eyes fixed on Yu Jin’s palm, shoulders quivering faintly. Yu Jin sharpened his tone into a command. “Don’t bite. I said.”

When Yun Qi finally relented, a bright bead of blood welled up on his lower lip. Yu Jin wiped it away with his thumb, his gaze darkening. “You really don’t listen.”

Yun Qi knelt there like a child caught misbehaving, braced for whatever scolding or punishment might come.

It had started with just a single tear, but the moment Yu Jin called him disobedient, his emotional walls crumbled in an instant. Reason shattered, and hot tears carved paths down his cheeks. He swiped them away with one hand, then carefully unwrapped the bloodied gauze from Yu Jin’s palm with the other, his expression stubbornly resolute.

“Don’t cry,” Yu Jin said, seizing his wrist to halt him. “I’m not dead yet.”

Yun Qi looked up, eyes brimming. “Let me apply the medicine.”

“Will you keep ignoring me from now on?” Yu Jin asked. “Keep putting distance between us?”

Yun Qi let out a soft, hiccuping sob, another tear slipping free.

Yu Jin wiped it away. “Answer me.”

Yun Qi shook his head.

The room fell utterly silent, save for the thunderous rhythm of heartbeats.

Yu Jin had gotten the response he wanted. He was a master at schooling his features, projecting calm when he wished to conceal his true feelings. Yun Qi looked half-scared out of his wits. Seeing those hot tears glistening in his eyes, Yu Jin suddenly regretted letting him witness the injury at all.

“Go ahead and apply the medicine,” Yu Jin said.

Yun Qi retrieved the tools from the first aid kit. After several more bloodstained bandages, the wound finally came into clear view. With utmost care, he dabbed on the disinfectant and healing ointment. The cotton swab, soaked in medicinal alcohol, pressed lightly over the gash. That stark knife wound felt like a slice straight into Yun Qi’s own heart. He scarcely dared apply any pressure with each pass, yet a cut that deep had to hurt like hell. Yu Jin bore it without flinching or betraying a hint of pain on his face, but the straining veins along his arm spoke volumes.

“Who did this?” Yun Qi asked. He needed to know what had gone down in that brief span. He’d only just seen Yu Jin in the streaming room moments ago—how could something this serious happen so fast?

Who would strike at him like this? Who could be so vicious? This was an esports player’s lifeline. Who wanted to shatter Yu Jin’s future? The very thought was infuriating.

When the answer came, Yun Qi was utterly perplexed.

“I did it to myself,” Yu Jin said.

Yun Qi frowned. He could never quite read Yu Jin—the flicker of emotion in his eyes, the reasoning behind his actions. What was this if not self-harm? What kind of madness had seized him?

Catching Yun Qi’s bewilderment, Yu Jin explained softly, “This is how I run the esports team. You’ll get used to it in time. Slashing the knife across them won’t teach them a lesson; it’ll only fracture team harmony. But if I turn the blade on myself, anyone with even a shred of conscience will straighten up and fly right.”

“But that’s your own hand…”

“Yes, for an esports player, isn’t the hand the most important thing?” Yu Jin said. “I figure I’ve got some pull in the scene. Anyone who ruins me will get drowned in backlash. That alone would teach them a lesson.”

“No,” Yun Qi said, gazing into Yu Jin’s eyes. “I don’t want you doing that.”

He had seen all sorts of tactics from team managers—intimidation, bribes, forced trades—but never anything like this from Yu Jin. Hurting others was easy, but how much resolve did it take to hurt yourself? Was he really going to sacrifice his own future just to keep the team harmonious? Yun Qi couldn’t accept it. Yu Jin was a once-in-a-decade genius; he couldn’t throw it all away like this.

“If you don’t want me to, then I won’t?” Yu Jin replied. “What makes you think you get to decide?”

Yun Qi shook his head, clutching Yu Jin’s arm. “Don’t do it, Brother Jin. Please. Even if… even for my sake. I want to compete with you. Don’t do this.”

He pleaded with such heartbreaking vulnerability that no one could have refused him. It struck at Yu Jin’s heart, but Yu Jin’s eyes remained resolute and serious. He reached out, gently caressing Yun Qi’s cheek. “I’m not listening to you. Because you never listen to me.”

“I’ll listen! I will. From now on, whatever you say, I’ll do it…” Yun Qi promised. “I won’t ignore you anymore. I’ll listen to everything. Just don’t hurt yourself. Don’t use this method to protect the team’s harmony. I know team unity is important, but… you’re important too. You’re important to me.”

“How important?”

Yun Qi’s expression faltered, averting his gaze. He couldn’t stomach Yu Jin’s approach, no matter how rational he tried to be in that moment. He had to convince Yu Jin to heed him. “I… I promised you. We’ll win the championship together. You’re already at the top, but I still want to stand there with you. Next month’s tournament… I’ll make the starting roster. For our original promise, okay?”

“Just for that old promise?”

Yun Qi slumped, his defenses crumbling. “I can’t be without you…”

Yu Jin had burrowed deep into his heart long ago, like a thorn that couldn’t be pulled out. No matter how others pressured him or tried to intervene, Yun Qi had never stopped caring for him, not even for a second.

What broke Yun Qi wasn’t just the unspoken emotions—it was knowing this had to be connected to him. No, it definitely was. Yu Jin had been fine just moments ago. How had things spiraled like this after their talk?

“You’re on your knees, crying, looking just like I’m the one bullying you.” Yu Jin’s gaze softened. The sun had set, casting a warm glow. Yun Qi’s shoulder was bathed in the lingering light of the dying day, making his tear-streaked face all the more pitiable—far more intense than Yu Jin had intended.

He had only wanted to see Yun Qi flustered, concerned for him, eyes filled only with him. Not tears.

How had his courage shrunk so much? This was enough to scare you?

Unaware of the man’s thoughts, Yun Qi was still gripped by guilt. He couldn’t meet Yu Jin’s eyes. He screwed the cap back on the medicinal alcohol, set it aside, and took fresh gauze to rebandage the wound. With his sleeve, he wiped away the tears he couldn’t control. “It’s because I’m useless.”

“It’s not that you’re useless. It’s that I’m too extreme.” Yu Jin’s voice was gentle. “Did I scare you?”

Yun Qi nodded. He wasn’t lying.

He admitted he’d been a coward just now—such a coward he despised himself. Such an over-the-top reaction, yet he’d tried to play it cool, acting distant and indifferent toward Yu Jin. Who would buy that?

He wasn’t a good actor, couldn’t grasp a character’s inner world or steer the plot as scripted.

He always veered off course.

Always made a fool of himself.

Yu Jin’s tone grew heavy. “From now on, you behave, and I’ll behave. We shouldn’t torment each other like this. Understand?”