Chapter 47 Part 2

Yun Qi pondered it and found it very reasonable.

“I know all about the doubts you’re facing right now—I’ve been watching. You need this Grand Tournament even more than I do, but I have to warn you ahead of time: there’s no such thing as yielding here. I’ll compete with you hysterically. I have to ensure that the one standing as Top Laner is a bigger boss than me, only then can I yield willingly.” Jiu Ke looked at Yun Qi sincerely. “Convince me, okay?”

In Jiu Ke’s eyes, Yun Qi saw the word “hope.”

Hope for whom? For himself? Was Jiu Ke placing hope in him? It seemed so.

Before this, Yun Qi knew very little about Jiu Ke’s character. If Ziwu was someone he interacted with the least in the team, then Jiu Ke was even less so. They had a competitive relationship, so neither wanted to bother with superficial pleasantries for the sake of social norms. As a result, they had rarely spoken since their one-on-one duel. Today’s words from Jiu Ke were truly important to Yun Qi—he saw Jiu Ke’s true character and realized that Jiu Ke had the same fervor for the team as Ziwu.

“Good,” Yun Qi said, caught up in his enthusiasm, his own resolve hardening with hot-blooded determination. “I’ll convince you with everything I’ve got.”

Jiu Ke gave him an appraising once-over, undisguised admiration shining in his eyes. “That would be even better.”

With that, the two parted ways and headed back to their rooms.

Yun Qi opened the door and sat down in his room. He replayed Jiu Ke’s words in his mind over and over.

It had been a heartfelt speech, earnest and sincere—not a warning or a show of force, but something more like quiet resignation mixed with sage advice.

He felt the pressure weighing on him.

Even if he managed to defeat Jiu Ke, the pressure wouldn’t lift.

It wasn’t the arena in Seoul that troubled him, but the one in Berlin.

The Asian Server tournament was in Seoul, the EU Server in Berlin. That had been the setup for the past two years, and with no announcements otherwise and only twenty-one days until the Grand Tournament, it was safe to assume it would be the same this year. Asia’s fiercest rivalry pitted the Korean Team against the Chinese National Team, but on the EU Server, Sweden had dominated completely ever since Yu Jin’s era ended.

Sweden had long been an esports powerhouse, once evenly matched with the German Team—until the year Yu Jin led his squad to claim the championship for the Chinese National Team. After Yu Jin’s suspension, the title had swung back to Sweden.

Berlin was the host city for the European Server Esports World Cup, and it was also where Yu Jin had sought treatment for his insomnia, a psychological affliction. Yun Qi always felt a faint unease at the thought of the place. It was like a constant reminder that he was the reason Yu Jin had spent two years there, forced into hiatus at the peak of his career.

And that was the undeniable truth.

Yun Qi leaned back in his chair, his mind churning with endless trivial worries. He tilted his head and stared up at the ceiling as guilt began to gnaw at him. The more Yu Jin acted like he held no grudges from their past, the worse Yun Qi’s conscience felt.

His ex-boyfriend… was magnanimous in ways he could scarcely match.

Lost in these thoughts, Yun Qi’s mind drifted to that stormy night. He recalled the warmth of Yu Jin’s fingertips, and without realizing it, his neck flushed deep red.

Yu Jin returned at nine o’clock.

The villa was quiet at that hour. Yun Qi heard a faint noise and stepped out to check. Sure enough, there was Yu Jin standing in the downstairs hall. He had just shrugged off his coat and was carrying something as he headed upstairs.

Yun Qi was dressed in pajamas, his freshly washed hair carrying a faint fragrance. He slipped on his slippers and went to meet him at the staircase. The first thing he noticed was the smell of alcohol wafting from Yu Jin. Frowning, he asked, “Have you been drinking?”

Yu Jin handed him the item in his hand—a slice of cake. “No.”

Yun Qi cradled the small cake and followed behind him. The alcohol scent lingered strongly. Eyeing Yu Jin, he said with conviction, “You have.”

Yu Jin glanced back over his shoulder. “Come inside first.”

Yun Qi trailed him into his room.

He set the cake down on the table while Yu Jin tossed the coat he had been carrying onto the sofa.

Yun Qi fetched the medicine box on instinct. When Yu Jin sat down, he took his hand, turned the palm up, and began unwinding the bandage. It had become routine over the past couple of days.

“Looks like it’s almost healed,” Yun Qi said once the bandage was off, noting the scabbed wound. Smelling the alcohol again, he added a reminder. “You can’t drink right now. It’ll slow down the healing. Alcohol isn’t good with an open wound—it speeds up blood circulation and interferes with recovery. Otherwise, the scar will definitely…”

“Such a nag.” Yu Jin looked up at him.

Yun Qi’s expression soured a little. He fell silent, staring at the wound as he crouched down to rummage for the medicinal alcohol, looking both annoyed and aggrieved.

Watching him, Yu Jin said, “I was just kidding. Not talking to me now?”

Yun Qi didn’t look up. “No, I’m just looking for something.”

He fumbled around forever for the bottle right under his nose, flipping things over without grabbing it. Yu Jin took in the whole petty display. At last, he said, “All right, I get it. I won’t drink anymore. I only had two glasses today anyway.”

Yun Qi stood up with the medicinal alcohol in hand. Yu Jin patted the sofa beside him. “Sit.”

Yun Qi didn’t sit. Instead, he applied the medicine in focused silence, silently wishing the wound would heal quickly, leaving no scar or lingering effects.

Yu Jin gazed at the cotton swab dabbing his palm. Yun Qi’s touch was feather-light. Even a slight flex made it hurt—the scab was far from full recovery, and Yu Jin had been cautious with his movements these past days. “I even brought you cake to eat. Still mad at me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yun Qi replied. “Captain Yu’s cake is for his teammates. I don’t have that kind of privilege.”

“What’s this about?” Yu Jin picked up on the edge in his tone. “Unhappy about looking after me for two days?”

Yun Qi paused to think it over, then finally sat down. He set the medicine box on the table and carefully applied the ointment to Yu Jin’s wound. “Tata still hasn’t been picked up.”

Yu Jin said, “I told you, my parents haven’t come back yet.”

“I know,” Yun Qi replied. “I’m just worried Tata won’t eat properly. You said your mom doesn’t like it much. Will she take good care of it?”

So that was the reason.

Yu Jin spoke softly. “She might not like it, but it’s something her son entrusted to her. Mom definitely won’t mistreat it. I promise—as soon as they get back, I’ll take you to pick it up. Deal?”

Yun Qi screwed the cap back onto the medicinal wine, glanced up at Yu Jin, and asked, “Why did you send it away in the first place?”

Yu Jin blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

Yun Qi curled his fingertips and set the wine back down, saying offhandedly, “They say Tata grabbed people before. Why didn’t you send it away then? But after it grabbed me just once, you shipped it off. Do you have a problem with it… or with me…”

Deep down, he was secretly hoping for something, his expression growing uncomfortably unnatural. Yu Jin’s gaze pinned him in place as Yun Qi busied himself wrapping the gauze around his hand—the only way to hide what was on his mind.

His tentative tone wasn’t exactly subtle.

How could Yu Jin not see what he was fishing for?

But a mischievous urge struck him, and Yu Jin replied, “It even grabbed you. What if it goes after me next?”

Yun Qi’s disappointment was plain as day. “That’s it…?”

Yu Jin prompted, “What did you want to hear?”

“Nothing,” Yun Qi said quickly.

He fell silent, quietly finishing the bandage.

Yu Jin stared at Yun Qi’s dainty nose and the palm-sized oval of his face, catching a faint, clean fragrance. “You showered?”

Yun Qi nodded.

Yu Jin’s eyes traced the curve of his waist downward. Yun Qi’s legs and arms were bare to the air, his standard pajamas a pale blue-and-white set that made his snow-white skin look all the more pure and innocent. Spotting a frayed edge on the hem, Yu Jin remarked, “Your clothes are pilling up.”

Yun Qi glanced down. “I’ve had this set for ages.”

“Tomorrow’s a rest day,” Yu Jin said abruptly. “I’ll take you out to buy a couple new outfits.”

Yun Qi froze for a second, then shook his head. “No need. I’m not picky about clothes. I’d rather stay here and train properly.”

“Don’t you get sick of staring at a screen all day?”

“Nope,” Yun Qi said. “The Grand Tournament’s right around the corner. All I can think about is making the Starting Roster.”

If the captain sitting across from him was the type to trade favors for flattery, Yun Qi could’ve buttered him up for a couple days and locked in his spot. But neither of them played those games. Even if someone walked in on them now, no one would suspect any shady deals or backroom bargains.

Yu Jin felt a swell of pride at his dedication—no team lead ever complained about players this driven. And yet, in that moment, he found himself wishing Yun Qi would say yes, anything to steer the conversation away from matches and rosters.

“Very good,” Yu Jin said, the words ringing hollow even to his own ears. He sounded like a press release, his thoughts miles from what came out of his mouth.

Yun Qi finished with a neat butterfly bow on the back of his hand. Yu Jin shook his head. “Put it in the palm instead.”

Yun Qi looked up at him.

“If someone spots it at dinner,” Yu Jin explained, “they’ll hound me about whether my girlfriend tied the bow.”

Yun Qi’s ears flushed pink. He hastily untied it, pulled the gauze across his palm, and retied the bow. “Better?”

Yu Jin gave it a squeeze. “Perfect.”

With the wound tended, they sat face-to-face, breaths mingling, the air thickening with unspoken tension. Yun Qi turned away, packed up the first aid kit, slid off the sofa, and stowed it back in its spot.

Then he murmured, “I… I’m heading to my room.”

Yu Jin nodded toward the table. “Don’t forget the cake.”

Yun Qi glanced over. A dainty butterfly bow adorned a petite four-inch cake, topped with plump strawberries—crafted with such care, it clearly hadn’t come from some random shop. “That one? We can share it with the team tomorrow…”

“I bought it for you.”

The words landed like a dart—direct, unyielding, brooking no argument.

Yun Qi’s head snapped up to the man on the sofa. Yu Jin lay propped on his side, eyes locked on him with pinpoint focus. The quiet statement carried real weight, slipping straight through Yun Qi’s defenses.

For no reason he could name, Yun Qi sensed that holding that gaze any longer would lead somewhere dangerous. He hurried to the table, scooped up the cake, and choked out, “Thank you.”

He headed for the door, but just as he neared it, the voice came from behind. “Hold on.”

Yun Qi halted like a robot mid-stride.

He heard footsteps. He felt Yu Jin close in from behind, wrapping him in a warm, commanding presence. One hand reached past to grip the door handle—whether by design or accident, Yu Jin’s arm brushed across Yun Qi’s waist in what felt unmistakably like an embrace from behind.

Yun Qi’s breathing grew erratic. He tightened his grip on the bow atop the cake, then tightened it even more, his head bowed so low that his snow-white neck was fully exposed.

“If Tata grabs someone else, I can pay compensation. But it can’t grab you,” Yu Jin murmured, his lips brushing against the fragrant strands of hair. “At least you’ve never been hurt in front of me—not before, and not ever again.”

His breath was so warm as it washed over Yun Qi’s nape. Watching the strands of hair tremble beneath his eyelids, Yu Jin’s gaze deepened. “No reason. I just won’t allow it.”

Yu Jin didn’t touch him. He didn’t.

Yet Yun Qi felt as if he were being caressed all the same.

From his neck to the burning soles of his feet.

Sometimes rough and domineering.

Sometimes gentle, yet insistent.

Feigning fragility like a damsel in distress, Yun Qi lifted a hand to brace himself against the door, shoving the half-open panel firmly shut. He gnawed fiercely on his lower lip, his expression dazed and utterly unconvincing. “Tomorrow… take me shopping for clothes.”

Yu Jin’s breath drew nearer. “Hm?”

Yun Qi seized the door handle—and with it, Yu Jin’s hand. “No reason. I just suddenly want to go. Can we?”

He clung desperately to the door, to Yu Jin’s hand, while the fingers of his other hand crushed the bow out of shape. Sweat slicked his palm, soaking into the ribbon.

Yu Jin leaned in close to his ear, his presence faint yet inescapable as he eased the door open. His warm breath carried a hint of laughter, innocent and unknowing. “Alright.”