Chapter 6

Lang Xian’s true colors in private were something Yun Qi knew all too well.

He wasn’t some delicate flower who believed Lang Xian’s overtures stemmed from genuine affection. They duoed together constantly, trained side by side, and even lived under the same roof at the SK Base—how could he not know just how chaotic Lang Xian’s personal life really was?

Yun Qi had seen strangers coming and going from Lang Xian’s room more times than he could count. The youth trainee trailing after him now wasn’t even a special case; there had been others before—fellow trainees, fans, friends, and family slipping into the base late at night when no one was around. Yun Qi had caught them red-handed more than once, including the time he’d walked in on Lang Xian kissing a strange boy in the hallway. Back then, Lang Xian had claimed the guy was his secret boyfriend, but they’d broken up after just a few days.

Yun Qi had never even heard Lang Xian mention having a boyfriend. If he hadn’t stumbled upon them by chance that night, there probably wouldn’t have been any official title to it at all. Lang Xian was just playing around. But Yun Qi had no right to meddle in his private life, so he never pried.

When Lang Xian claimed to like him, Yun Qi didn’t take it to heart. After all, his wild personal life hadn’t slowed down one bit despite that supposed affection. Yun Qi figured he was probably just joking around. And yet, those eyes of his—brimming with what looked like sincere emotion—made it feel real sometimes.

Lang Xian offered no explanation for Yun Qi’s pointed questions. Instead, he made a promise like some prodigal son turning over a new leaf. “If you say yes, I’ll cut ties with every single one of them.”

“Reject everyone just for me?” Yun Qi pulled his hand free and said quietly, “Captain Lang, I don’t care what your private life is like. But that kind of line might work on the youth trainee hanging around you—don’t try it on me. I’m young, sure, but I’ve been through the ups and downs of romance. I can spot the real thing from a mile away.”

Lang Xian’s hand hung empty in the air. He looked down at Yun Qi—someone so young, yet with such a resolute expression and a maturity about relationships that set him apart from all those desperate climbers chasing rank boosts.

Lang Xian had no trouble charming the youth trainees, but with Yun Qi, he hit a wall at every turn. How could he possibly be in a good mood?

“If the team’s buying out Danwan and my spot’s gone, there’s nothing I can do about it,” Yun Qi said, leaning against the wall with a defeated slump. “I came here to go pro. If I’m not good enough to cut it, getting replaced is just how it goes. If sleeping with you was all it took to keep my job, I never would’ve bothered entering the pro scene in the first place—I could’ve just worked the clubs.”

Every word was sharp and insightful. He understood his precarious position in the scene perfectly and wasn’t naive enough to cling to Lang Xian’s olive branch like it was his only lifeline.

“So if SK really has no room for me,” Yun Qi continued, “I’ll be out eventually. And I’ll accept that.”

Lang Xian had no comeback for any of it. He could only stare at Yun Qi—this young man who knew himself so clearly. For a fleeting moment, Lang Xian truly believed he’d fallen for him. In that instant, he desperately wanted to know how Yun Qi’s unforgettable ex-boyfriend had won him over… and how anyone could bear to let him go.

Curiosity, envy, jealousy, resentment—it all burned through Lang Xian’s fraying nerves.

“Uh… Captain?”

A voice came from behind him. Chen Xia stood in the doorway of the Training Room, calling out. He frowned at how close the two of them were standing, wondering what they could be talking about.

Lang Xian didn’t turn around. He kept staring at Yun Qi and barked out a curt, “What?”

Chen Xia’s voice faltered. “Uh, never mind. I’ll talk to you later.”

He ducked his head and vanished.

Lang Xian shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a low chuckle. He took a step back, his own expression hardening with resolve. “Well said. You almost had me there, Yun Qi—so high and mighty. But let me remind you: if you leave SK, you won’t have anywhere else to go. Piss me off, and the entire pro scene will shut you out. I like you, and I don’t want it to come to that. So I’m giving you one last chance. Get your head straight before the Grand Finals and give me a real answer. Don’t think I’m messing around. I laid it out plain: I want to sleep with you.”

As he spoke, Lang Xian raised his hand. Yun Qi instinctively moved to block it. Lang Xian paused for half a second in midair, then reached for Yun Qi’s collar instead. He hooked a finger into it and rubbed the fabric teasingly. “I bought your spot on the team waiting for this day. The fans aren’t wrong—you know exactly how you climbed this high. Anyone can play support. Becoming the National Server’s number one support? That’s about who can hold on to the seat at SK the longest.”

“Danwan’s no slouch compared to you, and there are plenty of skilled supports in the pro scene. You win on that face of yours… and the fact that I’m still interested.” Lang Xian had dropped all pretense now. Months of failed pursuit had worn down even his patient-hunter patience, igniting his temper. “Don’t play the lofty card in pro play. With looks like that, can you really blame me for not letting you go?”

Yun Qi shoved him away.

Lang Xian smiled and grabbed his hand. “You know, Eidis wouldn’t even lower his gaze to look at you, but I will. I’m the guiding light on your path through life. Why stan Eidis? If you’re smart, you should stan me.”

Yun Qi shook off his hand, and the talks between them completely broke down. Lang Xian dropped all pretense and started groping him. Fortunately, someone emerged at that moment—it was that youth trainee, calling out “Bro” from behind.

Yun Qi seized the chaos to slip away. He shot Lang Xian a hostile glance over his shoulder. Lang Xian watched him with an enigmatic expression, the air between them crackling with tension. Yun Qi hated conflict and loathed arguing with others. Lang Xian was fiercely competitive, and now the two of them had utterly fallen out.

Yun Qi hurried back to the training room, his face drained of color. Xue Yan spotted his distress right away and stood up. “What happened?”

Yun Qi covered his hand with a tissue, clenching both into fists. It had been ages since he’d been this furious, ages since his face had gone pale like this. But this conversation with Lang Xian had him seeing red, stirring the first real urge he’d ever had to smash his computer.

Lang Xian didn’t enter until two minutes later. He glanced at Yun Qi first, then went over to talk to Chen Xia. Yun Qi sensed the man’s stare from the corner of his eye. He snatched up his keys, left the training room, and headed upstairs to his room.

That night, Yun Qi skipped dinner and turned in early after tidying up.

A bit later, Xue Yan knocked on his door, asking what was wrong—his face had looked off all afternoon.

“Captain Lang didn’t say anything about buying Danwan,” Xue Yan remarked. “What else could’ve pissed you off?”

Yun Qi stood in the doorway. “It’s not that. Personal stuff. Didn’t go well.”

Xue Yan waved it off. “Aw, come on. Captain Lang’s easy to talk to. If it fell through, just try again. No need to sulk—I’ve never seen you get flustered like that.”

Yun Qi tried to push the aggravation from his mind. “Was there something you needed?”

Xue Yan grinned. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Now?”

“Right now,” Xue Yan said. “Oh, and I wanted to ask you about something personal.”

Yun Qi eyed him, drawing a blank on what it could be.

~~~

The base lay silent under the dead of night. Lights were out in the training room, and downstairs in the hall, Jiu Shuang sat making a phone call while Chen Xia was off on a night run. Only faint sounds drifted from the upstairs rooms.

The young man leaned vulnerably against the glass window, his sweat-slicked face twisted in distress. One hand clutched the curtain while the other dug into the shoulder of the man before him. The stormy night subsided amid low growls.

At last, it was over.

Lang Xian tossed him a pack of tissues. The young man caught it in a fluster and watched as Lang Xian headed in to shower. His gaze dropped to the sticky mess on the floor.

A moment later, Lang Xian emerged, rubbing his damp hair. The young man had cleaned himself up by then and said in a flirtatious tone, “You were extra intense tonight.”

Lang Xian glanced up at him, a towel draped around his neck. “You know what to tell people outside. Keep that straight in your head.”

“Got it, Cousin Bro.” The young man plopped down beside him with a grin, looping an arm around Lang Xian’s and resting his head on his shoulder.

“If word about the fan thing gets out, my career’s toast,” Lang Xian said. “Don’t just play the part here at the base. Keep it zipped outside too—Cousin Bro’s just Cousin Bro.”

“I won’t breathe a word. You can relax,” the young man assured him. “It’s tough enough sneaking in to see you as it is. I’m happy with that. After all, I’m just one of your thousands of fans, Captain Lang. I know my place.”

Lang Xian pulled out a cigarette and asked out of nowhere, “Weren’t you an Eidis stan before?”

The young man laughed. “Captain Lang, anyone who plays games stans Eidis. You telling me you don’t?”

Lang Xian scowled. “Why the hell would I? Sure, he’s a genius—gotta give him that. Undeniably skilled.”

“He’s the guy who planted our flag on the EU server stage. We all have to admit it—Eidis is a god.”

Lang Xian muttered glumly, “Yeah, and? He’s not someone regular folks can get close to.”

“So why let it get to you?” the young man pressed. “That little support on your team likes Eidis, and it bugs you? Huayao just made a joke during scrims today, and you ripped the guy apart. Please—who gets jealous over Eidis? He’s on another level, walled off from even pro talents. Your little soft support can crush on him all he wants, but reality’s gonna hit eventually. You’re the only one he can actually lean on. He’ll see that.”

“He’s not as self-aware as you,” Lang Xian said, recalling his earlier talk with Yun Qi, his brow knitting tight. “Stanning Eidis is a waste. Someone you’ll never touch in your life—just gawk at him on his pedestal. No need to act like you’re building a chastity arch for the guy.”

The young man straightened up, curiosity piqued. “He likes E God that much?”

Lang Xian fell silent for a moment before stubbing out his cigarette. “He has Intimacy Starvation Syndrome,” he said. “He was so pent up he wouldn’t let me touch him. At night, he’d pleasure himself alone in his room, moaning Eidis’s name.”

The young man’s eyes went wide. “God.”

Lang Xian rose to his feet, a surge of nameless irritation rising in his chest. “Born with a body made for fucking, yet he has to pretend to be so pure and lofty.”

“Fuck,” Lang Xian muttered in annoyance.

~~~

Out on the street.

Snack row.

Yun Qi and Xue Yan settled at an open-air table. The fresh breeze did wonders for Yun Qi’s mood, clearing away much of the fog in his mind. A steaming basket of soup dumplings arrived, and Yun Qi looked puzzled as he asked, “Why are you buying me dinner?”

Xue Yan took a seat across from him. “To ask about your ex-boyfriend.”

Yun Qi immediately set down his chopsticks and fixed Xue Yan with a serious stare.

Seeing that reaction, Xue Yan hurried to explain. “Look, you get all tense and intense every time your ex comes up. Why the big secret? I’m not judging you for being gay.”

“Who told you to pry?”

“No one,” Xue Yan said with a grin. “I’m just curious. You talked about it on stream, so what’s the big deal with sharing a little off the record?”

“Lang Xian put you up to this,” Yun Qi said, dead certain.

“It’s got nothing to do with Captain Lang,” Xue Yan replied. “I wanted to know myself. Captain Lang’s been chasing you forever, and you keep turning him down. Gotta be someone else in the picture.”

“You’re right—I do have someone on my mind,” Yun Qi admitted. “But that’s not why I’m rejecting Lang Xian. Even if he backed off, I’d still say no. I just don’t like him as a person.”

“Oh, so you’re still pining for your ex,” Xue Yan teased, catching the undercurrent with a sly smile. Yun Qi shot him a look. The soup dumplings steamed between them. Xue Yan pressed on. “I know the basics—the internet never forgets. You mentioned him briefly on stream, even if I still don’t know much about the guy.”

Yun Qi picked up his chopsticks and snagged a dumpling. “What do you want to know?”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“No.”

“What’s he up to these days?”

“No idea.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Kinda… the same as us.”

“A pro gamer, then,” Xue Yan said with a sigh. “That doesn’t make sense. Our scene’s tiny—everyone’s competing. How do you two have zero contact?”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Yun Qi said. “And that’s enough to cut ties completely.”

Xue Yan picked up on the faint note of loss in Yun Qi’s voice and softened his tone. He chose his words carefully. “So… what happened? Why’d you break up?”

Yun Qi’s chopsticks froze. Soup from the dumpling splattered across the plate. His eyelashes quivered. After nearly a full minute of silence, he murmured, “Because I acted out.”