Chapter 50 Part 1

He desperately wanted to convince himself to be magnanimous.

Past people and past events—he had no business getting involved.

What did it have to do with him if Lang Xian and Yun Qi were really a couple? What right did an ex-boyfriend have to meddle in their current relationship? Yu Jin had never been so lacking in propriety. Never.

When he’d witnessed that ambiguous moment at Esports Night, holding himself back had already been the height of his restraint.

How could Yun Qi possibly understand the bitter taste of jealousy that had nearly driven Yu Jin insane?

“I originally thought it would be you…” Yun Qi murmured, eyes downcast. “But then I realized, why would you care about me? Why would you go to all that trouble to mess with SK just for my sake? You’re not someone who lacks that kind of propriety.”

“I am now.” Yu Jin’s frank declaration sent waves crashing through the heart of the man beside him.

Yun Qi mulled over those words. Were they flirtatious? Sincere? Did they carry some hidden meaning? He prayed he wasn’t misreading them, wasn’t letting his hopes run away with him.

Daring to say no more, Yun Qi stepped back, widening the gap between them. In a quiet voice, he asked, “You’ve known about this for a while, haven’t you? That video online… when did you see it?”

If Lao Xun hadn’t clued him in, Yun Qi wouldn’t have realized the storm he’d stirred up online—millions of likes overnight, countless viewers, while the man at the center of it all remained blissfully unaware. If things kept escalating, who knew where the rumors would lead.

How had Yu Jin found out? When? That was what Yun Qi needed to understand right now.

Yu Jin replied, “I saw it this morning. Earlier than Lao Xun.”

“You were up that early?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night. Barely got a few hours.”

“No wonder,” Yun Qi said, recalling the confrontation at the SK Base. “Is this really settled? Why was Li Meng so reasonable about it?”

From what Yun Qi knew, Li Meng wasn’t the type to eat a loss. The man was ruthless when he acted, and no way could it have been resolved with mere words.

Yu Jin strolled to the sofa and sat down, speaking at a leisurely pace. “He’s not reasonable. He just doesn’t want the hassle. If it blows up for real, SK’s the one that’ll come out on the losing end.”

Yun Qi approached. “Why?”

Yu Jin glanced up at him. “Got a hundred thousand whys today?”

Yun Qi had indeed peppered the day with questions—everything felt too bizarre, too unfathomable. “You don’t have to answer.”

Yu Jin motioned for him to sit, then explained slowly. “First off, SK really is just a developing esports team. You were there; you know ‘being taken care of’ isn’t some blessing. Second, Lao Xun’s infamous in the scene for his cutthroat tactics. Back in his younger days, he had a laundry list of infamous exploits. The fact that he bounced between teams and landed at KRO without everyone gossiping endlessly? That’s his real skill. He’s mellowed a bit these past couple years, but if push comes to shove, SK couldn’t weather it.”

“And third,” Yu Jin continued as he poured himself a cup of water, “you ought to learn about our big boss and how many teams he’s buried. Touching Xu Muzhe’s slice of the pie is a direct challenge. Right now in Shanghai, no one’s bold enough—or strong enough—to go toe-to-toe with him in this game. Li Meng wants to play hardball? Think his superiors would sign off on that? Without their backing, picking a fight with Xu Muzhe is suicide.”

Yun Qi listened, his heart racing. “So the big boss stepping in to shut it down was the decisive factor.”

“You could put it that way.”

Yun Qi wasn’t fully convinced. “But… would our big boss really bother with something like this for me?”

“You’re KRO. Why wouldn’t he?”

“There are tons of trial trainees under him. Would he really go to bat for one of us?”

Yu Jin cradled his cup and took a sip of tea before asking, “Have you ever met Xu Muzhe?”

Yun Qi shook his head. “Never had the chance.”

Yu Jin smiled faintly. “Then let me tell you a story. Fair enough?”

Yun Qi blinked. “A story?”

“The story of how Xu Muzhe and I first crossed paths,” Yu Jin began, his voice steady and engaging. “Three years ago, right after I started competing and putting myself out there, Xu Muzhe was just breaking into the esports world as an entrepreneur. I’d handed defeats to plenty of his teams by then. He sent people to recruit me, dangled benefits so massive no player could turn them down. But I did. Because back then, his offer wasn’t the best on the table. So why did I ultimately choose him? Xu Muzhe was the only one who set aside his pride and came to invite me in person—not once, but three times.”

Yun Qi took a seat, hooked by the tale.

“I didn’t want to join those other esports teams because I hate being controlled, hate all the corporate maneuvering. What I wanted was a pure team—a group of people brought together purely by their love for the game. That’s why I chose Xu Muzhe. He promised me he’d give me exactly that kind of team. He said he appreciated talent, that the shady dealings of the business world wouldn’t touch me or my team. Back then, I couldn’t tell if it was just empty talk, but now it’s clear it wasn’t. He really did give me a team that’s pure enough, and he handed me a ton of authority too. I get to decide who makes the starting roster and who we buy or sell—whether it’s trial trainees or starting roster players. If I say yes, it’s yes. If I say no, it’s no. It was the same when we bought you. Just sign the contract with me, and Xu Muzhe won’t interfere. Even if he asks, he won’t overrule me. He respects my choices, and that’s why I’ve stuck around this long. As long as I still have value, as long as I’m one of the top players in this industry, Boss Xu won’t let me even think about jumping ship. Stepping in like this? That’s nothing for him.”

It really proved that old saying: if your value is high enough, anything can be arranged.

Right now, no one in the country—or even the world—could match Yu Jin as a jungler. Letting him go would be like releasing a tiger back into the wild. As long as Xu Muzhe was still in this industry, he’d never allow Yu Jin to become his rival.

“I get it,” Yun Qi said hesitantly. “Boss Xu would step up for you, just like you did for me. But from what you’ve said about your history, the fact that he’s done this much is already impressive. I don’t think someone who’s purely in it for the money would act like this. Boss Xu… he must really love this industry too, right?”

“Maybe,” Yu Jin replied. “He’s not the kind of businessman whose eyes are only on the cash. He’s said he wants to contribute something to society, to build a team that can stand up to the foreign servers. Taking a slice of the pie is just a bonus. Back when he was young, he loved esports too, but the era wasn’t right for it. He waited until he had real financial power before diving in. There’s probably some personal obsession driving him as well.”

“I’ve always heard Boss Xu’s name, but I never imagined he was like this,” Yun Qi said. “Meeting him was the right call for you.”

Otherwise, in any other team, Yu Jin would’ve been worn down and discarded, no matter how skilled he was. He couldn’t have withstood those dirty tricks piling up one after another.

“I got lucky,” Yu Jin said. “Unlucky in love, successful in my career, I guess.”

He’d met Xu Muzhe right when he’d been dumped, which had been a small comfort at least. Though his condition afterward hadn’t been great—he’d sat out competitions for two years, worrying the hell out of his bosses.

When the conversation turned there, Yun Qi guiltily lowered his head. Yu Jin said, “I’m not blaming you.”

Yun Qi clenched his fists. Yu Jin took in his reaction—it wasn’t a pleasant moment—and quickly changed the subject. “The Major Tournament Roster’s coming out soon. You feeling confident?”

“Yeah,” Yun Qi said, his fingers relaxing. “You might think this sounds cocky, but I really am. No point hiding it from you.”

“Your results beat Jiu Ke’s, so of course you’re confident. That’s no cockiness. Confidence is good, and so is knowing your own limits.”

“Jiu Ke came to see you yesterday…”

“Yeah,” Yu Jin said without hiding it. “He recommended you.”

Yun Qi blinked in surprise. “He recommended me?”

Yu Jin nodded. “He knows you’re stronger than him. He didn’t want me and Lao Xun putting you in a tough spot, so he suggested you go instead.”

Yun Qi didn’t talk much with Jiu Ke, so he hadn’t expected the guy to nominate him—especially after he’d beaten Jiu Ke in those two matches. Yun Qi had figured he’d face backlash or resentment, but Jiu Ke had actually pushed for him.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Jin asked, noticing his odd expression.

Yun Qi shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just surprised.”

Yu Jin wasn’t remotely shocked. He knew Jiu Ke inside out. “Like I told you before, you don’t need to play those social games here. Jiu Ke’s older and more mature than you. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about losing, but that doesn’t cloud his judgment. Strength is strength—everyone sees it.”

“I overthought it.”

“Regretting that last game you lost to him?” Yu Jin said. “You didn’t have to throw it, you know.”

Only Yu Jin knew that Yun Qi’s final loss to Jiu Ke had been a gesture of goodwill. Only he could spot it. He was the one here who truly understood Yun Qi’s strength—better than Yun Qi himself, even.

No one else but Yu Jin.

“I’ll never do that again,” Yun Qi said. “I didn’t mean to disrespect him. I just wanted… everyone to like me.”

“Strength is what draws people to you,” Yu Jin said. “Handing over a spot just isn’t meaningful, and Jiu Ke wouldn’t want it anyway. Do you think he doesn’t know his own worth? He sized up your skill and recommended you to me himself. Last night he came by, sang your praises, and told me to nurture you well—you’ll be KRO’s cornerstone, my right-hand man.”

“So… what do you think?”

“What else could I think?” Yu Jin looked at Yun Qi, his expression earnest. “I knew you before he did. I didn’t need him to point it out.”