Yun Qi’s hand clenched tight in his pocket. He had plenty of fans, but just as many haters. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that not everyone was on his side—when he played support, he hadn’t exactly shone, and he’d faced a ton of flak for his skills. Debates had raged online about him snagging someone else’s spot. Netizens accused him of using connections to hog the support position, bumping another player off the starting roster. Add in how he never pandered to viewers during streams, plus all the dirt other streamers spread about him, and it was no wonder half the community wanted him gone.
He’d always lived by one piece of advice: don’t fall into the trap of trying to prove your innocence. Nobody cared about the truth. The more you explained baseless rumors, the more ammunition you gave the haters to twist the knife. Ignore them, don’t obsess, don’t doubt yourself—just keep doing you, and time would sort it out. That was why Yun Qi had never bothered clearing up his scandals.
But now they were right in his face. He couldn’t just look away. SK had a huge fanbase, and so did Lang Xian. Jumping ship had pissed off his old team, and spilling the beans had burned bridges with Lang Xian. There was no staying neutral here.
The guy kept going, doubling down: “This world’s full of backstabbers. Climbing to a bigger team? Fine. But biting the hand that feeds you? Don’t act like we’re the ones targeting you. SK must’ve had the worst luck in eight lifetimes to raise an ungrateful wolf like you.”
Yun Qi’s patience snapped. He was about to fire back, diving headfirst into that trap, when a warm touch grazed his neck. The person beside him had gripped the back of it. Then came Yu Jin’s voice, laced with skepticism: “Is that right?”
Yu Jin tilted his head up. He hadn’t taken off his duckbill cap, just leaned back against the sofa behind them while holding Yun Qi’s neck, staring down the two rude strangers.
The pair recognized him instantly.
They exchanged a glance, as if they couldn’t believe their luck—or lack of it.
“You skip the clarifications, dump all your idol’s screw-ups on someone else—that’s the quality of Qingmo’s fans?” Yu Jin’s words cut like diamonds.
The two wanted no beef with Yu Jin. Who could’ve guessed the guy next to Yun Qi was him? Even insiders didn’t dare breathe the name Eidis. Crossing him meant his rabid fans would bury them alive online.
Their bravado deflated. “We’re not Qingmo fans…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Yu Jin cut in. “The Luo Shen you’re trash-talking? I shelled out top dollar for him. He’s on my team now. Short version: I protect mine. Got a problem with him? Go on, keep talking. I’ll see you in court tomorrow.”
They folded like cheap suits and turned to bolt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yu Jin pressed, his gaze turning icy as he fixed it on them. “Someone’s filming this. I don’t know you, but I trust the internet to dox you—names, faces, even your parents’ details.”
The two guys had no choice but to turn back. They mumbled under their breath, “…we didn’t curse him.”
Yu Jin shot them a frosty look. “Who here do you think is deaf?”
“So what do you want?”
“An apology. Mouths aren’t just for spewing shit, right?” Yu Jin drawled, taking his time. “A few insults? Water under the bridge. But I’ve got all the time and money in the world to drag this out in court. Even if there’s no big verdict, you’re kids—still in school? I can make you infamous on campus. Sue after sue, let your classmates binge the drama for free. Sound fun?”
Panic flashed across their faces. Yun Qi looked up at Yu Jin, his grip tightening on the shoebox in his hands.
Yu Jin let go and stood, stepping right up to them. “Slander, rumors, personal attacks. Can’t lock you up? I can still make your life hell. I’ll hire someone to file suits nonstop, burn cash until your parents beg for mercy.”
One of the guys realized how deep the shit was. All his swagger vanished as he scurried over to Yun Qi, bowing so low it was comical. “Luo Shen, I’m sorry. What I said earlier… I was an asshole. I take it back—don’t hold it against me.”
Yu Jin glanced back at him.
Yun Qi stared at the guy, flustered, and muttered, “Just go.”
The first guy started to scram, then remembered his buddy and grabbed his arm. “Apologize, man—his old man’s ruthless enough to bury you. And that dude next to him? You know who that is? I don’t wanna get doxxed and dogpiled.”
The second guy grumbled but forced out, “Sorry.”
Yun Qi ignored them. The pair shot a look at Yu Jin, who was still watching Yun Qi. Seizing the moment, they bolted.
Yun Qi noticed people filming them now. His shopping mood was shot. He grabbed the shoes, set them back on the counter, and said to Yu Jin, “Let’s get out of here.”
Yu Jin grabbed Yun Qi’s arm and turned to the sales assistant. “Please wrap up these shoes.”
With that, he lowered his head to look at Yun Qi. “Don’t let someone dumber than you ruin your mood.”
“I know,” Yun Qi replied, lifting his gaze to meet Yu Jin’s as the sales assistant packed the shoes. “I shouldn’t care what people see through colored lenses. It’s our day off—we should be having fun. But Captain Yu… sometimes I really wonder if I’ll face this kind of suspicion my whole life. I can never erase my past.”
He longed to cultivate a mindset utterly unswayed by the world—not rejoicing in gain, not grieving in loss. But malice delivered right to his face was far worse than anything online. These people were so brazen in person; he could only imagine how vicious they got behind keyboards. Yun Qi had seen the doubts about himself before—some tore him down completely. He’d brushed them off in those days, but today, in front of Yu Jin and right to his face, the humiliation cut deep.
Perhaps there had always been a gap between them, but back then, when they sat side by side, they were both masters admired by all. His side lane plays had been as flashy as Yu Jin’s jungle runs. Yet years later, they inhabited entirely different worlds.
What was wrong with him? Was he jealous of Yu Jin? No—he shouldn’t be. He couldn’t be.
“I’m not telling you to erase it,” Yu Jin said, noticing Yun Qi’s dejection. “But you can shatter those doubts with your actions. What others think doesn’t matter. The key is not to doubt yourself along with them. If the energy inside you flows downward, your fate will follow. But keep it positive, and your luck will rise. You get what I’m saying?”
Yu Jin might be at the top of his game, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t relate. He’d faced ugly doubts overseas too—not about his skills, but his character. You couldn’t plug every loose mouth, but he could control his own mind and keep from sinking.
Yun Qi stayed downcast for a moment, then nodded. What was he doing, worrying people like this? Why bring it up? Did he need words of comfort? No—he’d never cared about others’ opinions before, and he shouldn’t start now.
Yun Qi talked himself around quickly enough.
He mustered a strained smile for Yu Jin. “I get it. I’m fine.”
Yu Jin reached out and ruffled his hair—a simple gesture of reassurance. Yun Qi didn’t mind it, and neither did Yu Jin. He looked up with another smile. “Let’s go.”
The two headed downstairs. At checkout, Yu Jin reached for his card, but Yun Qi caught his wrist. “Let me pay.”
“You wanna fight me over this?”
Yun Qi shook his head. “You covered the pajamas. This one… I’ll handle it.”
He didn’t elaborate. Their relationship wasn’t at the point where he could spend Yu Jin’s money freely. Yu Jin had already shelled out plenty before; now that Yun Qi could earn his own, it was time to stand on his own feet.
Yu Jin didn’t push it. He handed over the bill, and Yun Qi swiped his card. The cashier packed up the clothes and passed them over. Yu Jin took the bag in one hand.
They had just stepped outside when Yun Qi remembered something. “Wait here a sec.”
Yu Jin watched him, bags in hand, as Yun Qi turned and ducked back into the store.
A few minutes later, he emerged with an extra shopping bag clutched in his arms. Yu Jin eyed it. “What’s that?”
Yun Qi hugged the bag tight and shook his head, his expression evasive. “Nothing…”
Yu Jin didn’t press, though his gaze lingered on the bag Yun Qi was trying to hide.
They returned to the KRO Base.
The rest of the day slipped by.
That evening, Yu Jin was heading out again.
The bandages were off for good now. Yun Qi trailed after him with a reminder. “No drinking tonight.”
Yu Jin glanced at his hand. “It’s almost healed.”
“I know,” Yun Qi said. “The manager said you’ll be back training with us next week, so lay off the booze. It’ll heal faster that way.”
Yu Jin arched a brow. “That worried my hand’s done for?”
How could Yun Qi not worry? Yu Jin had endless obligations like this—barely back from one before heading out to another. Even if he knew his limits, did the others? Did they grasp how bad the injury had been? What if they poured drinks down his throat anyway?
“Yeah, worried,” Yun Qi said, twisting his hands. “Just… don’t drink.”
Yu Jin’s lips curved in a smile. “I won’t. It’s just dinner—the guy’s not big on booze anyway. If you’re that concerned, you could come along.”
“Really?” Yun Qi met his eyes, then backpedaled quickly. “I mean, good that he doesn’t drink much. Be safe out there. I’m heading to my room.”
He turned and bolted before Yu Jin could respond.
Yu Jin watched his retreating back, his expression inscrutable. He slowly climbed the stairs. His hand no longer hurt, but for no good reason, he returned to his room and had someone rebandage it.
