LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 77


Chapter 77 – Xinghai, Victory Is Certain


Far away, the “abandoned” former team captain, Shao Zhan, was watching the match replay on his phone. His schedule during the day was far too packed, so he had no choice but to squeeze in time at night to catch up.

“You like esports too?” The doctor asked while examining the X-ray he had just taken, confirming that the injury had healed to the expected level. With a pair of medical scissors, he began cutting away the outer bandage around the cast to prepare for its removal.

Shao Zhan rewound the video to rewatch the few seconds when the Xinghai team appeared on screen, studying it closely. Noticing the doctor’s use of “too,” he casually asked, “You watch esports, Doc?”

“I don’t have the time. My girlfriend’s the fan.” The doctor responded while deftly removing the cast. Talking about his girlfriend made him a little chatty. He shared that her favorite team performed terribly today due to their captain’s absence. She was so furious she spent the whole afternoon ranting on a forum—and still not satisfied, she used his phone to create a new account just to keep venting.

“Pretty childish, huh?” he said, though his face was full of fond affection.

The man in front of him, dressed in a sharp suit, looked every bit the professional elite. The doctor hadn’t expected him to share his girlfriend’s interests and couldn’t help asking, “So, which team do you support?”

Shao Zhan rubbed his nose with his good hand. “Xinghai.”

“Xinghai?” The doctor frowned, the name sounding oddly familiar as he focused on the final bit of the cast. “Right, for this Asia Cup—who do you think will win?”

Without a hint of hesitation, Shao Zhan shamelessly declared his own team’s name: “Xinghai.”

Truthfully, whether or not they could win the final trophy didn’t matter much. Under the intense pressure of their captain’s absence, and even with a slightly limping player, Xinghai had already won the championship in his heart.

“Why?” The doctor grew more curious—the name was ringing all kinds of bells in his head. Then suddenly, a lightbulb went off. Xinghai… wasn’t that the very team his girlfriend both loved and hated? Their captain hadn’t played this time due to injury. What was his name again? Two characters… he could’ve sworn he’d just seen it somewhere…

As he pondered, his eyes happened to fall on the patient information section of the medical record.

“You’re Shao Zhan?”

The patient nodded, eyes still glued to the screen as he analyzed key technical points.

“Hahaha,” the doctor laughed. “No way—it has to be a coincidence. Has anyone ever told you your name’s exactly like Xinghai’s captain’s?”

“That’s me.” Shao Zhan hit the pause button and flexed his slightly stiff wrist. “So, tell me, Doc—will I still be able to play esports?”

As he cleaned up the remains of the cast and removed his gloves, the doctor nearly gasped. He struggled to keep his composure. He genuinely hadn’t expected that the man across from him, who exuded such a professional, corporate aura, was actually an esports player—a national representative on the world stage, no less.

Seriously, of all things, he’d gone and ranted right in front of the very person involved. At that moment, he truly wished he could find a crack in the floor to crawl into—or maybe just toss himself into the medical waste bag along with the discarded plaster.

But he was a doctor, after all. No matter what, he had to stay professional. Forcing himself to stay calm, he picked up the X-ray from the desk and examined it closely. “Based on this scan, the recovery looks pretty good. But to be cautious, I’d recommend taking another X-ray and an MRI, just to get a clearer picture. After that, we can discuss the rehab plan in more detail.”

Shao Zhan nodded. “Can we do the scans today? I’ve got something on tomorrow.”

The doctor blinked, then nodded quickly. “I’ll coordinate with the radiology department.” He then instructed a nurse to escort the patient to get a number at the exam room.

Before leaving, Shao Zhan specifically asked the doctor to pass a message to his girlfriend: tell her to keep going hard on Xinghai with her scolding. He said those brats could take it. But above all, he asked her never to stop supporting the team.

After Shao Zhan left, while waiting for the next patient to come in, the doctor found a moment to call his girlfriend. The moment he mentioned he’d met Captain Shao in person, a high-pitched scream like a prairie dog’s came from the other end of the line.

“Did you get a photo? Did you take a photo of him?!” she squealed, also asking if Shao Zhan looked just as handsome in person as he did in the videos.

“He’s very handsome,” the doctor admitted, a little helplessly. “But I’m a doctor. I can’t take photos during work hours.” He glanced at the film still lying on his desk. “All I’ve got is an X-ray of his hand.”

“I want to see it! I want to see it! I want to see it!”

Even though his girlfriend was shrieking on the other end of the line, the doctor held firm to his professional ethics—patient confidentiality meant he couldn’t share medical images.

“Got it, got it. My doctor is the most responsible one,” she said graciously. “Is Captain Shao still at the hospital? Is he still getting checked? Got it, got it—I’ll come pick you up after work! Wait for me, okay? You’re not allowed to leave without me!”

Normally, this same girlfriend found it too troublesome even to get up for a glass of water at home—now, for the first time in her life, she wanted to come pick him up from work. The doctor wasn’t sure whether to be happy or concerned.

“Anyway,” he murmured to the elegant hand bones on the X-ray film, “thanks.”

“My name is Not Nervous. My name is Not Nervous. My name is Not Nervous…”

Jiang Ranan, who was pushing the wheelchair, couldn’t take the rambling of the pudgy Buddha beside him any longer. While waiting for the elevator, he couldn’t help but give him a kick. “Will you ever shut up?”

Fat Tangyuan grabbed Du Changcheng to complain, “Coach, he kicked me! He kicked my only good leg!”

Lately, Du Changcheng had been so worn down by these monkeys that he couldn’t even be bothered to play mediator. He just continued reviewing the match procedures on his phone, not responding at all.

Fat Tangyuan opened his mouth to say more, but Zhuang Bai clamped a hand over it. “You and that mouth of yours… can’t you ever be quiet?”

Fat Tangyuan pulled his teammate’s hand away. “You don’t get it. This is called energy transfer. I talk it out, and the nerves go away.”

“Oh, right—so you just transfer all that nervous energy onto us, huh?” Zhuang Bai smacked the pudgy guy lightly.

“Wow, listen to you,” Fat Tangyuan said, turning around in his wheelchair to argue. “You really need to think bigger. I’m casting a spell here—transferring all the nerves to the other teams, so we can sit back and reap the benefits!”

The translator, who finally couldn’t take it anymore, muttered, “If you’ve got that kind of power, why not just give them food poisoning so they can’t even show up?”

“Ooh~” Fat Tangyuan formed a heart with his fingers and sent it toward the translator. “Kid, your idea’s got real flair~”

As they were chatting, they happened to bump into the players from Team Weiguang. Ever since the pet incident at the training base, the two teams hadn’t interacted much. Now that they crossed paths, it was only natural to ask about Bage’s recovery.

The coaches of both teams were longtime acquaintances, exchanging a few polite words. Team Weiguang expressed that they were looking forward to seeing Xinghai’s new captain lead the team for the first time.

Their respective lounges weren’t far apart, so after a brief exchange, they each returned to prepare.

As soon as they stepped into their lounge, Fat Tangyuan muttered, “A weasel wishing a chicken Happy New Year…” The rest of the sentence was instantly silenced by a glare from Du Changcheng.

Du Changcheng tapped the armrest of the wheelchair, face stern, and gave the team a firm reminder: “This is an international event. Right now, you’re not just representing Xinghai—you’re representing Chinese esports. I might let you act like hooligans at home, but out here? The first one to cause trouble will have to deal with me.”

Fat Tangyuan, who’d been sitting for so long his stomach wasn’t digesting properly, let out a burp—then quickly swallowed it again under the coach’s warning glare.

“This time, I’m leading the team. Thank you all for your hard work.” As the match drew near, Yang Sa stood by the lounge window and extended his hand to the team. “Because of me, Xinghai lost its captain. Because of me, you’ve all had to take on extra burdens. But today, what I want to say is—let’s fight. Let’s fight a match that belongs to Xinghai.”

The Xinghai team members clenched their fists and brought them together with solemn unity.

In international tournaments, it’s customary for competing teams to shoot promotional videos and record a few words of reflection—just in case they win, so those clips can be played on the big screen during the victory celebration.

In the past, Xinghai was always a strong contender for the championship, so these interviews were treated with great importance. Shao Zhan, a seasoned veteran, had always handled them with ease.

This time, however, the Xinghai team could clearly feel the staff’s indifference toward Yang Sa, the new captain. Yang Sa himself might not have noticed, but his teammates certainly did.

In esports, weakness is a sin.

Everything they had lost—they would only be able to reclaim on the battlefield, one bullet at a time.

In each player’s eyes, a fierce, untamed spirit burned bright.

Led by the event staff, the players walked toward the stage that belonged to them.

The coach watched their retreating backs, recalling countless past tournaments. It was an imprint etched deep in their souls—

Xinghai. To fight is to win.

The bigger the challenge, the more they laughed in its face. This wasn’t just confidence in their own strength—it was also a psychological blow to their opponents.

Fat Tangyuan squirmed excitedly in his wheelchair, declaring loudly, “No matter how we do today, I—Fat Tangyuan—have already made league history!”

“The first player to roll into a match on a wheelchair,” Jiang Ranan replied dryly as he adjusted his peripherals. “What are you so proud of?”

“You’re just jealous, admit it. Little Ranan, you’re jealous of me.” Fat Tangyuan kept bickering as he quickly adjusted his settings, then turned to look for allies. “Hey, Captain! We’re family, right? No need to stand on ceremony—when we get back, could you maybe let me…”

“Hm?” Yang Sa lifted his chin. “What is it?”

“Be captain for a couple of days, just for fun?”

“Sure,” Yang Sa said, barely holding back a smile. “After we lose, I’ll have Qin Chuan post your name as ‘Team Captain’ on Weibo so the fans can vent their anger at you.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just—just wanted to enjoy the feeling of being in charge while the old tyrant isn’t around.”

With cameras and staff everywhere, it wasn’t the best time for violence. Zhuang Bai calmly reminded their pudgy teammate that he already threw his weight around plenty back at the base. Otherwise, how else would he have packed on all that chub?

Fat Tangyuan was just about to talk back when the match started, and he had no choice but to channel all his pent-up rage toward the enemy team.

“You little punks, your Grandpa Tangyuan has arrived!”

In the first round, the plane flew across the map at a 60-degree diagonal. Yang Sa led the team to Satellite Tower and wiped out an entire squad right after landing.

“Poor souls… of all the places to drop, you just had to pick the same zone as your Daddy Tangyuan. Hehehe… off to the grave you go.”


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 76


Chapter 76 – Can You Chill Out Already?


“Aiya, hey—stop pushing me! Can you not?!” Fat Tangyuan was recklessly steering his character across the racetrack.

Taking care of this little “lame-leg” in real life had already drained every ounce of patience from Team Xinghai. He was already annoying enough with his usual bossy attitude, and now, Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan had teamed up to pin him down and give him a good beating.

They were merciless—beating him until the little fatty questioned his very existence. Eyes brimming with tears, he clung to Yang Sa’s arm, wailing about those heartless beasts.

Yang Sa, now back to his usual composed self, didn’t reject the sudden closeness. With a blank expression, he suggested they go over a replay of their last scrim before the big match.

Fat Tangyuan immediately pulled a face of pain and cried out, “Oh, come on, Little Captain!”

He bared his big teeth as he protested, “You’ve watched that match so many times the video’s about to grow moss! On this whole trip, it’s either you reviewing it alone or dragging us to do it too. Little Captain, listen to me—there isn’t a single antique walnut that’s been rubbed as much as that footage!”

“Antique walnut?”

Seeing that Yang Sa—who grew up abroad—didn’t quite get the reference, Fat Tangyuan opened up his shopping app to proudly show off his collection of precious walnuts.

After taking a glance, Yang Sa couldn’t help but say, “Never seen a walnut as round and smooth as you, though.”

Fat Tangyuan inhaled sharply. “Little Captain,” he said in disbelief, “you—you’ve gone bad!”

Grieving like a betrayed parent, he looked up at the heavens and complained: “My Little Captain used to be so sweet! You never used to roast me like this. When did you turn bad? Who taught you?!”

Checking the time, they realized it was about time to head back to the hotel.

Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan packed up their stuff and wordlessly followed Yang Sa out.

Left behind and confused, Fat Tangyuan started a new game, aimlessly socializing and looking around while waiting for his teammates to join… only to turn his head and realize—they’d already left.

He wheeled himself toward the exit in a panic.

“Hey—wait up! Wait for me! Let’s go together, okay? If people see this, they’ll say Xinghai has no brotherhood, no love!”

“Save it, Fatty,” the new captain replied, merciless as always. “Our team never had that crap to begin with.”

“…Should we really not wait for him?” Still young and a little soft, Jiang Ranan hesitated.

“Relax,” Zhuang Bai slung an arm over his shoulder, “Think about it. Logically speaking, if he can wheel himself to the internet café, then he can wheel himself back, right?”

He ruffled the younger player’s hair. “Think about it carefully. Makes perfect sense, yeah?”

“I mean, technically yeah,” Jiang Ranan admitted, “But… isn’t the tournament about to start soon?”

That gave Zhuang Bai and Yang Sa pause. The two of them stopped in their tracks and turned back. They walked over to the little chubby guy, who was now grinning and waving his arms like a fool, overjoyed that they’d come back for him.

At that moment, the three teammates silently reached a rare moment of agreement:

Once the tournament is over… we’re ditching this little fatty.

Shao Zhan had always known that their little chubby guy was easy to please—he just hadn’t realized how easy.

All it took was his teammates casually bringing him back to the hotel, and the guy actually thought that was worth sending over a dozen voice messages to brag about?

Clearly, as the former captain, Shao Zhan hadn’t been caring or attentive enough to his players. Otherwise, how would that kid dare to voice-message bomb him during his meeting?

With that thought, Shao Zhan quietly made a bold mark in his return plan—extra training for the little fatty.

The first day of the tournament featured solo and duo matches.

The results weren’t just bad—they were downright embarrassing.

Everyone on the team placed outside the top ten in the solo matches. The duo games were slightly better—Fat Tangyuan and Zhuang Bai managed to scrape into the top eight thanks to a clutch performance in the final round.

Throughout the entire livestream, Team Xinghai was almost invisible.

Aside from a few brief appearances when they crossed paths with top-ranking players, they had virtually no camera time.

Even fans who were ready to flame them were left speechless.

Sure, the performance was trash, no denying that—but if you wanted to nitpick specifics? Good luck. They weren’t even on screen.

Still, that didn’t stop the flood of posts bashing them and stirring up drama.

Even Qin Chuan, who was usually bouncing around like crazy during matches, had completely shut down. He silently touched the few sponsor logos remaining beside the team crest, heart aching. After this trip to Singapore, he feared that all that would be left… was just the team crest.

Du Changcheng and the new coach, Li Bai, both wore grim expressions as they led the players onto the bus provided by the organizers, heading back to the hotel.

So when the media waiting outside snapped photos of Team Xinghai, what they captured was a group that looked like they were headed to a funeral.

Those who knew the context assumed they’d just lost a match.

Those who didn’t might have thought their former captain, thousands of miles away, had suffered a tragic accident.

When those photos made their way back to China, they caused a stir online.

Yet the noise and chaos online didn’t affect the Xinghai players in the slightest.

They had no time to care about the rumors and gossip flooding the forums—after all, they’d expected this reaction from the very start.

On the way back to the hotel, the players barely spoke.

It wasn’t until they all gathered in Du Changcheng’s room that the silent tension exploded—like ants on a hot pan, they scrambled to grab notebooks and pens, scribbling furiously.

Fat Tangyuan, unable to physically fight for writing supplies due to his wheelchair, howled in frustration:
“Give me some paper! Someone—please spare me a sheet! I need a pen too!”

“Aiya, Fatty, quit messing around right now,” Jiang Ranan said, giving his chair a shove. “Just use your phone.”

Unable to get in on the writing frenzy, Fat Tangyuan switched gears and opened his voice input with full swagger.

Before the other players even had a chance to complain about the noise, Du Changcheng was already covering his mouth.

“Quiet!” he barked.

Seeing how tense the coach was—afraid of even the slightest distraction—Fat Tangyuan nearly burst into tears. He stared at the coach with wide, betrayed eyes, silently demanding: “Am I not your favorite player anymore? Do you not love your Fat Tangyuan the most?!”

As expected, Du Changcheng gave him a solid punch to his belly full of folds, gritting his teeth as he said,
“I love you, I really freaking love you, you little chubball!”

On the other side of the room, the new coach Li Bai was also scribbling furiously in his notebook, while the translator at his side worked to turn his notes into Chinese in real-time.

It turned out this entire situation had been part of a pre-set strategy. For Team Xinghai, today’s match was a rare preview session.

When Shao Zhan had been around, the players could focus on their personal performance and adapting in the moment during battle.

Now, under the current circumstances, they had to use the shortest amount of time possible to analyze and understand their opponents’ movement styles and tactical shifts.

Then, based on that intel, they’d have to craft targeted strategies.

The new captain was still too green and lacked international experience.

At this moment, every member of Xinghai was stepping up to carry the responsibilities of a team leader.
Here, the team’s honor was each individual’s honor.

Du Changcheng had plenty of experience leading teams, but it had been a long time since he’d encountered a moment like this.

It reminded him of the early days of building the team—the hardships, the struggle.

Moved by the sight of the players all racking their brains, he took a few photos and sent them to Shao Zhan, telling him not to worry and to charge ahead freely on his own battlefield.

While everyone was busy scribbling, Fat Tangyuan flexed his cramped typing fingers and complained to Du Changcheng:

“Coach, seriously… this is all the captain’s job. Since we’re doing it for him, shouldn’t we at least get bumped up two compensation tiers this quarter?”

“Zip it, fatty,” Du Changcheng snapped, jotting down his own notes and summarizing key tactical points from the match. “Say one more word and that half-good leg of yours isn’t coming back to China.”

Fat Tangyuan immediately went cross-eyed in fear, slapping a chubby palm over his mouth:
“Coach, what if I only say half a word…?”

He didn’t even get to finish the joke—before Du Changcheng could react, the rest of the team, already annoyed with his chattering, gave him a solid group punch straight into silence.

It was in rare moments like these that he actually missed their former captain, whining tearfully: “That old bast*rd—sure, he had a sharp tongue and a black heart—but at least when he was around, he never physically punished your poor Fat Tangyuan…”

He struck a dramatic pose, eyes glistening.

“Captain… ever since you left, your Fatty’s been so pitiful… like a motherless child, like a stray weed in the wind…”

Even as his mouth ran non-stop, Fat Tangyuan’s fingers moved quickly, typing up a detailed match analysis.

Sure, the other teams might not have shown off their latest strategies during the solo and duo rounds.
Still, from the way they coordinated and their individual combat styles, Xinghai could glean a lot of valuable insight.

First came a breakdown of individual player skills and how to counter them.
Aside from Yang Sa, the others were all veteran players who had fought alongside Shao Zhan in the league.
On a shifting battlefield, their ability to analyze opponents was top-tier.

Almost every time someone mentioned a particular player’s strength, someone else could immediately suggest a counter-strategy.

Even though PUBG didn’t have fixed man-to-man guarding like basketball, they could still rely on their own strengths to neutralize the opponents’ tactics.

As for the tactical upgrades and shifts from the other teams, Xinghai took a more flexible approach in response.

It could be said that under Yang Sa’s leadership, the team was gradually finding their rhythm, and communication among members was becoming increasingly smooth.

Du Changcheng and Li Bai ended the analysis session right on schedule. After all, no matter how thorough the summaries, they were still just theory—tomorrow would be the true test of the team.

They didn’t want to stay up too late, wanting to leave the players enough time to rest and recover.

After a late-night snack, the Xinghai players headed to a nearby internet café to get in a few rounds and get their hands warmed up.

Fat Tangyuan slipped up twice due to clumsy fingers and some bad luck with drop zones, getting completely surrounded and wiped by the opposing players.

On the way back, he was ruthlessly mocked by the rest of the team.

The sulky little round dumpling curled up in his wheelchair, covering his head while Jiang Ranan pushed him along.

He protested furiously, “I’m warning you all, stop laughing! This is bullying! Straight-up, blatant bullying against your poor Fat Tangyuan!”

Just then, Yang Sa pulled a chocolate stick from his pocket, ready to hand it out to help the players recharge.
He waved it in front of Fat Tangyuan’s face, “Don’t want it anymore?”

Fatty’s face instantly lit up with a satisfied grin.

He hugged Yang Sa’s arm and gathered the rest of the snacks into his arms protectively, like a giant Garfield, rubbing affectionately against him.

“Godfather, I’ve finally found you. I knew I was your long-lost biological son…”


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 75


Chapter 75 – Not Heartbroken, Just a Stomachache


“Even if everyone else is heartbroken, that fatty wouldn’t be. The only thing he gets hurt is his stomach—from overeating.” As he spoke, Jiang Ranan pulled out his phone to show his teammates the fatty’s Weibo.

After typing out a few hundred words ranting about his “cold-hearted” teammates, the little chubby guy’s next post was already about ordering takeout to comfort his poor, weak, helpless self—accompanied by a picture of his plump figure surrounded by delivery bags.

“Relax, relax.” The ever-optimistic Jiang Ranan spoke lightly, trying to reassure his teammates. “Even without us, our little fatty can take great care of himself.”

“Let’s hope so,” Zhuang Bai said, still full of worry. On the other side, Yang Sa remained silent.

“Aiya, what’s with you guys?” Jiang Ranan bounced on the spot twice in frustration. “When we’re not around, the little fatty is living his best life—why won’t you believe it?”

As they spoke, the group was heading into the internet café they had chosen. The first one through the door stopped in his tracks and turned to Jiang Ranan. “You were right.”

“Huh?” Jiang Ranan, bringing up the rear, was thoroughly confused.

Yang Sa, who followed close behind, also came to a halt and silently gave a thumbs-up toward those behind him.

“What’s going on?” Finally squeezing past some customers heading out, Jiang Ranan stepped into the futuristic-looking cyber café—only to immediately spot a plump figure seated at a computer facing them, wearing headphones and exuding the air of a seasoned boss as he called out to the people around him to join the game.

The group walked up to the familiar wheelchair. In perfect sync, the three of them pulled the chair back, took off his headphones, and exited the game—all at once. Yanked out of the match mid-flight, the plump Tangyuan blinked his beady little eyes, stunned for two seconds before finally returning to the real world.

Faced with the familiar faces of the real world, he decided to strike first: “You guys—you guys—seriously, that’s so not cool.”

His chubby finger pointed at them one by one.

“You came to the internet café without me. You didn’t even bring me, a disabled person. Bullying the disabled now, huh? Looking down on me, is that it?!”

While Yang Sa explained the situation to Tangyuan’s temporary teammates, Zhuang Bai held down the squirming chubby one trying to muddy the waters. Jiang Ranan, meanwhile, pulled up a certain someone’s Weibo and held the screen up for him to see.

“Weren’t you eating takeout in the hotel? Weren’t you planning to try all the food in Singapore or die trying?”

“And in reality?” Zhuang Bai leaned in close with feigned affection. “In reality, you’re here practicing solo, leveling up your skills, planning to leave your teammates in the dust.”

“But I—I…” The chubby boy was so flustered he accidentally wiped imaginary sweat with his pinky. “I just wanted to work hard in secret… and then blow you all away with how amazing I’ve become…”

After fake-smiling for a good few seconds, he snapped back with hands on his hips: “And what about you guys? Coming to the café without me?!”

Jiang Ranan mimicked his voice and pose, twisting his body: “I just wanted to work hard in secret and blow you all away with how amazing I’ve become~”

“Captain, you be the judge!”

Feeling outmatched by the two-on-one, Tangyuan called for backup— only for Yang Sa to silently shove his phone in his face.

Right then, Shao Zhan’s video call came through. He’d meant to remind Yang Sa to get some rest and not overwork himself— but instead, he stumbled right into the middle of the team’s pre-match drama.

“Perfect timing!” Jiang Ranan perked up immediately.

“Let our old captain settle this!”

“Settle what?” Tangyuan quickly changed his tune, grinning at the screen.

“Our dear old captain works so hard—shouldn’t he be resting right now? And you, what are you up to, dragging him into this mess? You bunch of scheming traitors!”

Then, smiling like a bootlicker: “Dear ex-captain, thank you for all your hard work. Don’t worry about anything on this end. With me, Old Tangyuan, holding down the fort, you can rest easy tonight…”

He went on and on until— “Eh? Why’d the screen go black?”

He handed the phone back to Yang Sa, who checked it and said, “He disconnected.”

“Aiya, Captain,” Tangyuan smacked his thick lips in mock regret. “All that heartfelt emotion, wasted.”

“Heartfelt?” Jiang Ranan didn’t even try to spare him. “That was nothing but fake, oily flattery.”

While Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan were rolling up their sleeves and arguing with the chubby kid, Shao Zhan’s call came through again. Yang Sa put on his Bluetooth earpiece and found a quiet corner to answer.

“Why did the call drop just now?” Yang Sa asked. He’d been about to check the SIM card. They were all outside—if they couldn’t receive messages from the manager or coach, it would be a real problem.

“I hung up,” Shao Zhan admitted shamelessly. “I just didn’t want to deal with that fat kid.”

“You—” Yang Sa lowered his voice deliberately, “everyone kind of misses you.”

He wasn’t lying. As a core team member and former captain, Shao Zhan had always been the soul of the team during past competitions.

“I know,” Shao Zhan loosened his tie, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the person on the screen. “What about you?”

“Me?” Yang Sa shifted uncomfortably on the bench, subtly edging away from the phone, and asked softly, “What about me?”

Shao Zhan suddenly leaned toward the screen, not missing a single reaction on the other end. His voice turned unbelievably gentle.

“You,” he said, “do you miss me?”

“I…” Yang Sa choked up, pressing his fist against his lips to block the emotions trying to slip out.

“Mm?” Shao Zhan propped a hand against his temple and pressed again, “Do you miss me?”

Yang Sa sucked in a sharp breath, eyes darting around nervously, afraid someone would notice what was going on.

“I asked you a question,” Shao Zhan couldn’t help teasing when he saw how flustered Yang Sa looked. “Do you miss me or not?”

“Stop—asking!” Yang Sa nearly ground his teeth, shooting a warning glare as he sat up straight like an honor student paying rapt attention in class.

“What are you so afraid of?” Shao Zhan reached out as if to poke the serious expression on the other boy’s face. His fingers only met the cold, hard screen, but the gesture still made him laugh aloud in the empty office.

“What are you—laughing—at?” Yang Sa mouthed furiously, then realized he was being too stiff and awkwardly scrunched his nose.

“I’m laughing at you,” Shao Zhan pointed out. “You look so suspicious. You’re wearing earphones, and still looking around like you’re terrified someone will hear you whispering sweet nothings. Kid, you’re very obvious. Are you that scared people will find out you’re talking to your boyfriend?”

“What boyfriend!” Yang Sa stood up in a panic.

Realizing people were now turning to look from all directions, he quickly bent down, apologized with a hand gesture, and shrank back into his corner seat. “You’ve really gone too far. Don’t say stuff like that.”

Not far off, the trio at the computer terminal stopped fooling around. Each turned into a secret agent, discreetly aiming their gazes toward the new captain.

The injured chubby Tangyuan had the worst of it all. Stuck in a wheelchair and unable to claim a good position, he scratched his ears in frustration, wishing he could flatten the other two into meat pancakes.

“What do you mean ‘saying stuff like that’?” Shao Zhan pretended to be upset, twirling his finger between the two of them. “We’re stuck in this awkward in-between. When’s it going to end?”

“What awkward in-between?” Yang Sa, thoroughly flustered, shook his head wildly and lowered his voice, checking his surroundings.

“You really—have—to—stop—saying—this stuff!”

Shao Zhan found Yang Sa’s reactions incredibly amusing. With just a bit of teasing, the boy would go into a flustered frenzy like a little kitten thrown into chaos, his hair practically standing on end.

It was only because they were separated by a phone screen—and an entire flight’s distance—that this little puffed-up kitten hadn’t already kicked him over and stormed off with his tail held high.

“Alright, I’ll stop messing with you,” Shao Zhan said, finally slipping back into a serious tone to calm him down.

Yang Sa, half-suspicious, sat up straight. “Do you have any advice about the Asia Cup?”

“Well…” Shao Zhan pinched his chin and fell into deep thought for a moment, his expression solemn.

Yang Sa, now fully alert and focused, perked up his ears, ready for some pre-match wisdom—only to hear Shao Zhan slowly say, “After the tournament ends, shouldn’t we figure out… what’s going on between us?”

Yang Sa’s rising tension wasn’t just from frustration—it was from shyness too. A blush spread across his fair cheeks. “What between us?!”

Shao Zhan raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m done for real this time.”

Even though he’d been teased more than once, Yang Sa didn’t plan on forgiving him just yet. Still, when Shao Zhan finally brought up the Asia Cup, he couldn’t help but rein in his emotions.

“About tomorrow’s match…” Shao Zhan deliberately drew out the words, watching as the other boy focused intently, trying hard not to laugh.

“As for what I need to say—” He coughed, poured himself a coffee, tidied up the desk, and finally returned to the screen under Yang Sa’s impatient urging. Taking a slow sip, he said,

“What I need to say… I’ve already said.”

Before Yang Sa could curse him out, Shao Zhan raised a hand to stop him and added gently, “As for what I haven’t said—you already know.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” Yang Sa rubbed his hair in frustration, unable to vent the restless anxiety building inside him.

Everyone feels nervous before a match—even veteran captains had once been rookies who had to grind their way through. If he could, Shao Zhan truly wished he could stay by his side, watch him grow bit by bit, and pass on everything he’d learned with no reservations.

But he couldn’t do that. From thousands of miles away, all he could do was try to distract the other boy from his nerves with small talk and side matters.

Still, even though he was a little worried, Shao Zhan didn’t let it consume him—he believed the new captain could handle it. He also knew that Yang Sa had always kept his emotions buried deep. In front of everyone else, he was still that sharp, unstoppable rising star of the esports world, like a blade freshly drawn from its sheath.

“I’ll be waiting for you all back home,” Shao Zhan said after checking the time—he still had two overseas meetings coming up.

Yang Sa nodded. “You go ahead.”

But Shao Zhan, a bit reluctant to end the call, clung to the last few moments.

“I know I’m probably nagging, but let me say it again: Xinghai doesn’t need to prove anything with this Asia Cup. Your most important mission this time is to bring everyone—old, injured, sick, whatever—safely there, and then safely back. I’ll be waiting here for you.”

Before hanging up, though, Shao Zhan still gave a few suggestions about the team’s pre-match training.

And so, after playing a few rounds of PUBG to keep their reflexes sharp, the four battle-hardened competitive players of Team Xinghai—known for dominating international arenas—ended up grouped together in a sleek, modern internet café in Singapore… playing Fall Guys.


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 74


Chapter 74 – You Don’t Love Me Anymore


Yang Sa placed the headphone stand he had prepared for Shao Zhan neatly on the desk, carefully leaving the packaging unopened.

However, Qin Chuan couldn’t stand it and quickly tore open the package, setting up the new headphones. “What’s the point of being so reserved? Shao Zhan already let you use his equipment, and his is bound to be yours sooner or later…” As he saw Yang Sa’s face turn red and his tongue start to trip over words, Qin Chuan awkwardly changed direction. “You’re the new captain, and when it comes to the training room, you… you… you make the decisions.”

“Right, right, right, Captain,” Tangyuan, who had finally regained his composure, chimed in with a sly look, “Since that old bast*rd isn’t around, let’s seize power and overthrow him…”

This earned him a long, hard smack to the head from the increasingly irritable Du Changcheng.

“Coach, you don’t love me anymore?” Tangyuan clutched his stomach dramatically, calling out in anguish, “Are you really… not going to love me anymore?”

“My biggest regret in life,” Du Changcheng grumbled, “is bringing this d*mn brat into the team…”

The arguments and commotion passed, and the time leading up to the competition flew by.

Tangyuan adapted to the wheelchair quickly and often raced around the facility in it. He even got in trouble for speeding in the hallway late at night.

The team members’ coordination was improving steadily. Though there were still some areas to work on, in such a short time, they couldn’t have done better.

The only regret was that after the racecourse incident, Shao Zhan had been too busy at headquarters to return and check on things. He rarely called, either.

The night before their departure, Yang Sa, who usually slept soundly, found himself unable to sleep. These days, not only had he grown closer to the Xinghai team members, but he’d also formed a strong bond with the team’s pet, a parrot.

Unable to sleep, Yang Sa stood by the gate, holding the chicken, staring up at the sky. Zhou Bo, asleep in the security office, snored loudly. The weather was slightly chilly, and in the quiet, it was almost impossible for him to tell where he was.

After some time, a dark red Flag sedan pulled up beside the base, and Shao Zhan, dressed in a dark brown suit, walked briskly out of the darkness.

The first to react was the parrot, flapping its wings and flying straight toward him.

It had only been a few days since leaving the base, but Shao Zhan looked down at the parrot, perched securely on his polished leather shoes, and smiled a rare, nostalgic smile.

Woken by the sound of the engine, Uncle Zhou came over, greeted Shao Zhan, then picked up the parrot and headed back to the dorm for some more sleep.

The others, seemingly still lost in their dreams, stared vacantly at Shao Zhan’s tall, slender figure.

His injured arm still hung in front of him, the skin beneath the plaster itching uncontrollably. Shao Zhan extended his free hand and ruffled Yang Sa’s hair. “Daydreaming?”

Yang Sa, startled as if waking from a dream, almost jumped up. He swung his arms back and forth, his conflicting emotions clear. In that moment, he really wanted to step forward, but also wanted to pull back.

The Xinghai team was taking a flight to Singapore at 8 a.m., and Shao Zhan could tell what was on Yang Sa’s mind. He shook his head slightly, signaling that he couldn’t stay long. Not far away, the driver of the red sedan leaned against the seat, unable to sleep well.

“Go sit in the security office.” Shao Zhan opened the glass door next to the security guard and noticed that Zhou Bo had turned on the warm air conditioning before leaving.

“Those kids aren’t easy to handle, you must be tired, right?” Shao Zhan smoothly pulled a chair over and sat down, leaving Uncle Zhou’s chair for the person behind him.

“It’s fine.” Yang Sa wasn’t used to the overly soft cushion and the thick lumbar support.

Noticing his discomfort, Shao Zhan pulled away the extra cushion. “Don’t worry about your brother. A few more people are still under internal investigation. The results will be honestly submitted to the police, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

Shao Zhan noticed that Yang Sa seemed unusually reserved tonight, speaking very little.

“You don’t need to worry about the Asia Cup either. The captain withdrew due to injury, and the striker was disabled in an accident. You, as the emergency team leader, shouldn’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

Yang Sa, who was usually eloquent, seemed to have trouble finding the right words. After a long pause, he hesitantly asked, “Can your hand still compete?”

Shao Zhan shrugged, indicating it wasn’t that urgent. “I’ll have to wait until the cast comes off to see.” He wiggled his fingers wrapped in plaster playfully. “But I think it’ll be fine.”

Yang Sa lowered his head deeply, his expression hidden, and his voice barely audible. “I hope so.”

Unable to resist, Shao Zhan gently tapped the top of his head and exaggeratedly asked, “You don’t trust me, or you don’t trust the doctors?”

In the small security booth, the warm air from the air conditioner seemed to carry an unspoken, unclear emotion.

After a long silence, Shao Zhan cupped Yang Sa’s chin and forced him to look up.

It was then that Shao Zhan saw that Yang Sa’s face was streaked with tears, making his heart race. Why was his boy so silent when he cried? What kind of experiences had left such deep shadows on him, especially at an age when he should be enjoying his youth freely?

Shao Zhan carefully wiped his tears. “It’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to be angry with me, but at least tell me why you’re crying. Otherwise, I’ll be heartbroken.”

It wasn’t just the wrong words; Yang Sa’s crying intensified. Helpless, Shao Zhan clumsily wiped his tears away, hugging him with one arm.

It wasn’t until a long time later that Yang Sa stopped crying, awkwardly patting Shao Zhan’s shoulder. “Sorry, I got your clothes dirty.”

“This is custom-made.” Shao Zhan said, deliberately turning the collar to show the edge of the fabric. He didn’t actually care about material things, but said this just to lighten the mood.

Yang Sa immediately understood, covering his swollen eyes and speaking through his congested nose, asking if he should compensate for the damage.

“Yes,” Shao Zhan answered quickly, as though afraid Yang Sa might change his mind. “My clothes are very expensive, you can’t find them in stores. You’ll have to pay me back with something just as expensive.”

“I don’t have anything.” Yang Sa raised his hand helplessly, his voice flat.

“Then I’ll have you compensate,” Shao Zhan said, burying his face in Yang Sa’s neck, inhaling the long-lost warmth. “For a lifetime.”

On the plane, the wheelchair-bound Fat Tangyuan received an unprecedented level of attentive service.

During past team trips, thanks to the ever-handsome Shao Zhan, it was hard for anyone else to shine. As for this fatty, goofy little ball of fluff, he had always been relegated to the background.

This time, while Yang Sa may have taken the spotlight in terms of looks, Fat Tangyuan’s leg cast brought him special attention from both flight attendants and stewards. Even Du Changcheng, who usually showed him little patience, kept a low profile throughout the flight—worried that any unpleasant photo might land him the reputation of “mistreating an injured teammate.”

During the journey, the little fatty ate well, slept well—the only downside was the person beside him, Yang Sa, who had taken it upon himself to “look after the injured.”

Yang Sa stuck by him the entire trip and, whenever he had a free moment, buried his head in a tablet, studying tactics and strategies.

Fat Tangyuan managed to sneak in a complaint to their manager Qin Chuan, asking if it was possible to not seat someone so diligent and handsome next to him. After all, he’d finally gotten a bit of spotlight due to being sick, and now it felt like his “C-position” was under threat.

Watching him dig into his third in-flight meal, Qin Chuan, already wearing his sleep mask, replied sincerely, “Yeah… you should probably feel threatened.”

Since both Beijing and Singapore were in the GMT+8 time zone, there was no need to adjust for jet lag. After landing, they headed straight to the hotel. Qin Chuan briefed them on the next day’s schedule for the solo and duo matches, then left everyone free to manage their own rest and recovery.

The happiest of all was, of course, Fat Tangyuan. He whipped out a detailed food guide he’d prepared in advance, enthusiastically introducing the must-eats of Singapore to his teammates.

The Xinghai team, all too familiar with his antics, silently picked up their luggage and headed for the front desk to check in.

“Captain, captain,” the relentless little fatty wheeled his custom chair behind Yang Sa, “Let’s go get some bak kut teh and laksa, yeah? We’re finally here—how are we supposed to have strength for the matches if we don’t eat well?”

Before Yang Sa could answer, Du Changcheng replied dryly with his usual poker face, “Yeah, if you don’t eat your fill, how will you have the strength to crawl home after losing?”

“Aiya, pfft pfft pfft, don’t jinx it!” Fat Tangyuan insisted, dragging the coach into a round of spitting to ward off bad luck. “Under our captain’s leadership, Team Xinghai will definitely win the championship, take the crown, achieve glory, and return home in triumph!”

After checking in and handing out room cards, Qin Chuan smirked coldly, “If we lose, let’s sacrifice the little fatty to the heavens. Anyone object?”

Nobody spoke up for a long moment. The chubby one raised his tiny hands in mock protest, “You’re all so cold, so cruel… so not human!”

Annoyed by the non-stop chatter, Jiang Ranan simply wheeled him—chair and all—into the elevator. Then the entire team stood outside, waving goodbye like it was a farewell scene.

“The hallways are very accessible, no obstacles. If you get lost, just ask a staff member…” Qin Chuan’s kind reminder got caught mid-sentence as the elevator doors closed—half inside, half out.

In the elevator, Fat Tangyuan furiously pulled out the data SIM card Qin Chuan had given him, activated it, and began furiously typing out a rant on Weibo, complaining about his cold-blooded, heartless teammates.

Meanwhile, Manager Qin Chuan and the staff went to coordinate event details with the organizers. Du Changcheng and Li Bai stayed back at the hotel to hold a mini meeting on strategies, while the rest of the team took time to rest and recover.

After dropping off his luggage, Yang Sa headed out to a nearby internet café to get back into the groove, only to bump into Jiang Ranan and Zhuang Bai, who clearly had the same idea.

There was a brief moment of surprise at the encounter, but it quickly melted into understanding. Even though Yang Sa was temporarily acting as captain, these two had deeper emotional ties to the team. With the original captain absent due to illness, and Shao Zhan fighting on another front for them, the remaining members of Xinghai had also silently taken on the responsibility of carrying the team’s banner.

The weight on their shoulders was no lighter than Yang Sa’s.

They exchanged smiles, wordlessly acknowledging each other’s thoughts, and headed off together.

Singapore had hosted major esports tournaments in recent years—TI11 (The International 2022), the Wild Rift Global Championship, the Valorant Champions Tour (APAC), and the DOTA2 Majors. The inaugural Olympic Esports Week also launched there in June 2023, cementing its place as a rising esports capital.

The local youth were passionate about esports, and most internet cafés were located near commercial centers. The one they picked was a bit far from the hotel, but it had high-end equipment, so they didn’t mind the walk.

As they chatted, Zhuang Bai—always the thoughtful one—suddenly voiced a concern about Fat Tangyuan:
“Do you think he’ll be upset we didn’t bring him along for practice?”

“Upset? That guy?” Jiang Ranan looked at him incredulously, genuinely wondering if his teammate had a fever.


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 73


Chapter 73 – Spoiling Only Me


As usual, Yang Sa stayed behind to discuss the next day’s schedule with the coach. Du Changcheng wanted to offer some words of comfort, but didn’t know where to start. He knew the new captain was in an anxious state before the big competition, and that simple reassurance wouldn’t help. The best he could do was maintain their regular routine and observe quietly.

Every time he saw the boy pushing himself too hard, he couldn’t help but think of Shao Zhan. That rascal—no matter how busy he was—couldn’t he find a moment to come back and check in? Really unreliable. Still, even with this lingering resentment, he dared not let any of it show in front of the new captain.

After their routine meeting, the two “veterans” of the esports world hurried off to catch up on sleep, leaving Yang Sa at his seat for extra practice.

In the early hours of the morning, just as he completed his self-imposed training tasks, he ran into Qin Chuan, who was lying sleepless on the sofa in the break room tapping away on a tablet. He was working on competition planning and the budget for the next quarter. Heaven knows—this was the first time since taking over the team that he’d been so meticulous with numbers.

Yang Sa grabbed a bottle of cold cola from the cabinet and sat across from him. “Is he… doing okay?”

“Who?” Qin Chuan’s eyes wandered across the spreadsheet, searching for areas to cut costs. He shook the stylus in his hand and gestured for Yang Sa not to worry. “The little fatty one’s fine. Just loud-mouthed, as always. Built tough—he didn’t grow all that padding for nothing…”

Mid-sentence, he suddenly had a flash of realization. The kid probably wasn’t asking about the Fat one.

An awkward silence followed. He licked his lips and forced a change of subject. “As for Lao Shao, nothing serious. Just some old geezers in the corporation trying to throw their weight around to feel important. Back when the old man was still around, they didn’t dare act up. But now that the Shao family’s uncle is out of the picture, there’s always someone trying to grab a piece of the pie. Still, don’t worry. That old bastard hasn’t survived these past years on salad alone. It’s not that he lacks the ability—he just doesn’t want to bother with the company’s affairs. If you ask me, his tactics are even sharper than his uncle’s.”

Yang Sa twisted open the bottle of cola and calmly sipped away the foam that was about to overflow. “I was asking about Tangyuan.”

Qin Chuan was so mad at himself, he wanted to slap his own face. Inwardly, he swore that if he ever got involved in the two of them again, he’d be the biggest fool on earth.

The two sat facing each other in silence for a while. Then, Yang Sa, who was usually a man of few words, suddenly spoke without context: “I’m not worried about his problems. He… he’ll handle them just fine.”

Still frustrated with his earlier slip-up, Qin Chuan didn’t look up. Instead, he reminded the new captain that it was already late and he should get some rest.

“I’m going to bed now,” Yang Sa promised. Then, with a hint of hesitation, he asked if he could take half a day off tomorrow. He had contacted a machine shop and wanted to check if they could help modify a wheelchair.

Just watching Fat Tangyuan struggle every day to climb from his wheelchair into the gaming chair was hard enough to bear.

“Sure,” Qin Chuan replied. With Tangyuan’s build, there really weren’t any ready-made wheelchairs that would suit him. A custom one would definitely come in handy—especially for international competitions. He’d check with the event organizers later to see if they could make any accommodations for injured players.

“Oh, and one more thing,” said Yang Sa casually as he adjusted a cushion. “Are we using the current team uniforms for the competition, or will there be custom ones?”

“They’re custom-made. The factory already delivered them,” Qin Chuan said. “The sponsor has changed, so the new uniforms will be distributed before the match.”

“Could I get mine early?” Yang Sa asked. “This is my first time leading the team in a competition of this level. I want to get used to it ahead of time.”

“No problem,” Qin Chuan replied, not reading too much into the flimsy excuse. “The uniforms are in the equipment room—just go grab yours. Your in-game IDs are all embroidered on the back.”

After thanking him, Yang Sa left. Qin Chuan, buried in spreadsheets and characters, stared blankly at the now-empty sofa. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with their new captain today—but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

A new day began. The first to knock on the door of the Xinghai base was a deliveryman in a yellow vest.

Without even unboxing it, Yang Sa took the wheelchair he had ordered overnight and headed straight for the factory. After discussing the modification plans, he handed it over to the craftsman. Leaving the factory, he wandered off alone, with no destination in mind.

The kind of factory willing to take on small jobs like this was more like a handmade workshop, but time was tight, and Yang Sa didn’t have the luxury to be picky. The factory was tucked away in an old part of the city, near some elementary and middle schools, surrounded by clusters of stationery stores.

Wearing a loose, casual jacket and carrying a black backpack, Yang Sa looked every bit like a kid skipping class.

When he bought a solid wood headphone stand, the shopkeeper almost reminded him that skipping school wasn’t a good habit—but thought better of it at the last second.

It wasn’t until Yang Sa asked if there was a print shop nearby that the owner, distracted while packing the headphones, accidentally let his thoughts slip out: “You’re a student and you don’t even know where the copy shops are…”

Following the shopkeeper’s directions, Yang Sa wandered around and actually found a place that could do spray printing on wooden items.

With the headphones on his back, he had a simple rice bowl meal near the school district. Adopted overseas when he was very young, Yang Sa had almost no memories of casually eating around a school like this. Maybe his brother had taken him out for a bite back then—but he couldn’t really remember.

There was no time to waste on nostalgia. After finishing his meal, he gave up his seat to some students who had just gotten out of class, then went to the workshop at the scheduled time to pick up the wheelchair and returned directly to the Xinghai base.

At the entrance to the base, Du Changcheng was playing chess with Uncle Zhou. Foreign coach Li Bai was holding the base’s adorable pug, who was wearing a stiff neck brace, seriously observing the profound depths of Chinese culture.

Possessing the soul of a retiree, Du Changcheng lit up with joy the moment he saw the wheelchair. He personally went up to give it a try. Yang Sa had bought an electric wheelchair, with the control panel right on the front of the armrest.

“If only I had this when I had my surgery…”

Remembering his old injury, Du Changcheng awkwardly trailed off. He lifted himself out of the chair and waved to Uncle Zhou. “Old pal, come give it a try.”

Unable to refuse, Uncle Zhou took a seat and did a quick lap. The base’s pet bird—nicknamed “Little Rooster”—was so startled it flapped madly after him in hot pursuit.

After the test drive, the wheelchair was carried up to the third floor.

Fat Tangyuan, who had still been catching up on sleep, was dragged out of bed by the ear courtesy of Du Changcheng. Barely awake, feet kicking and groaning, he shuffled out of bed. But once in the wheelchair, it was like he’d activated turbo mode—zipping down the empty hallway at top speed. He even thoughtfully woke up Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan, who were still sleeping, so they could admire his new ride.

His booming laughter echoed through the base villa like a curse, turning that morning into a nightmarish wake-up call for every player still lost in their dreams.

“This wheelchair,” said Qin Chuan, still in his pajamas and barely awake, squinting at the chaos as Tangyuan excitedly showed off his brand-new “flying chariot,” “isn’t it a bit… narrow?”

“Too small? What do you mean too small? Where is it too small?” Puffing his cheeks and sucking in his belly, Tangyuan tried to pull the overflowing fat on his sides back into his body. “It’s perfectly spacious here!” But the moment he spoke, he lost control, and the fat burst out with a poof.

As everyone laughed and joked around, Yang Sa remained serious, calmly explaining that he had already checked with customer service. Custom wheelchairs—from data collection to modeling to delivery—simply took too long. The factory couldn’t afford to restructure the frame either, as it would compromise the overall engineering design, not to mention the time needed for testing, which they didn’t have.

“Don’t listen to them, Captain,” Tangyuan said anxiously, his puffy eyes blinking as he tried to sound sincere—he was just short of handing over his heart. “This chair is perfect. Absolutely perfect!”

Yang Sa turned the wheelchair around and pushed him toward the training room. “The height is adjustable. Let’s test it with the computer setup.”

“But, but—” Tangyuan’s big head twisted around with effort. “I haven’t eaten yet!”

“The factory workers are waiting. They promised to give me the modification plan before dinner. If they work overtime, it’ll be ready tonight.”

“You’re serious, Captain?” Initially trying to resist, Tangyuan looked like a rubber chicken caught by the throat of fate—squeaking helplessly. After a short struggle, he realized there was no winning against destiny and silently gave in.

The translator had already cleared out Tangyuan’s workstation in advance and, as requested, had moved his treasured gaming chair into the utility room, giving it a prime position like it was a family heirloom.

Tangyuan launched the game and ran through some standard maneuvers in the training arena. Yang Sa stood nearby, jotting down notes about adjustments that might be needed. After communicating with the workshop, he confirmed that most issues were minor. If they sent the wheelchair in the next morning, it could be returned by the end of the day—no delay in use.

“Captain, this thing’s already great. No need to change it,” said the little fatty guy, who was just like his figure—broad-hearted and easygoing. On the field, he was a frontline striker; off the field, he believed in “close enough is good enough.” What he feared most were serious types—but Yang Sa, meticulous to a fault, had been running around on his behalf since the injury. He couldn’t say no to that. Even the slight resentment he once felt over Shao Zhan’s attitude toward Yang Sa had unconsciously faded away.

“If it won’t interfere with today’s training, then let’s go with what the technician suggested—make the changes tomorrow?” Yang Sa bent down slightly, asking for the person’s opinion.

The fatty guy on the wheelchair nodded eagerly. “It’s really great! I’m super happy with it.” As he spoke, he even flashed the side blinkers on the wheelchair to show his gratitude.

“As long as you like it,” Yang Sa replied, pulling a headphone stand from his backpack and handing it to the Xinghai team members.

Esports players usually weren’t picky—they’d just hang their headsets on the monitor or desk. But this dark brown solid wood stand matched the desk color perfectly. It was printed with the Xinghai team logo and each player’s in-game ID.

Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan cheerfully accepted theirs and took out their new headsets to hang up.

“You—you guys all got one?” Tangyuan asked in disbelief, clutching the headset he’d cuddled all night like a precious treasure.

“We all got one,” Jiang Ranan carefully arranged the headset he’d just taken off. “We came up earlier yesterday, thought we’d give you a surprise, make you happy.”

“I am happy,” Tangyuan said, holding his chest like it had been pierced by a knife. “I thought I was the only one getting special treatment from that old bastard.” He started to get agitated. “You guys could’ve at least dragged it out a bit longer.”

“Just be happy with the surprise,” Qin Chuan smacked him on the head, and Du Changcheng added, “Making such a big fuss—what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m the idiot here,” Tangyuan started grumbling like an old lady, “I should’ve known that old bast*rd would never treat me as special…”


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 72


Chapter 72 – Slim Waist


“You think I’m jealous of you?” Jiang Ranan pinched his slim waist. “Yeah, not only am I jealous of you—our whole team, the entire base is jealous of you. Satisfied now?”

“As long as you admit it.” Fat Tangyuan wiggled his toes cheerfully, the ones sticking out from under the cast. One of his teammates, who couldn’t stand the sight, gave him a slap—he yelped so loudly it almost pierced the heavens.

Du Changcheng and Li Bai, who had been discussing the next phase of training in the hallway, burst into the hospital room. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Shao Zhan was also on the phone, waiting for updates. Jiang Ranan turned pale with fright, standing there like a mannequin. Even the usually composed Zhuang Bai lowered his voice. “Does it hurt? Should I call a doctor for you…?”

Lying on the bed, basking in everyone’s attention, Fat Tangyuan shook his plump neck, then wiggled his equally plump and soft toes. “That’s weird… it doesn’t actually hurt.”

Coach Du Changcheng, unable to hold back, smacked him on the head a few times. “If it doesn’t hurt, why the hell did you scream?!”

The German coach, Li Bai, who had never witnessed such chaos, quickly pulled him away in shock.

Tangyuan rubbed his now-messy hair, muttering under his breath in protest but not daring to say much more. He flopped on the hospital bed like a turtle, groaning dramatically in defeat.

“Fatty~” Shao Zhan’s voice came through the phone—he had asked Yang Sa to put him on speaker. “My poor fatty is so badly hurt. Does it hurt a lot?”

At that, the round little guy suddenly sprang up from the bed with surprising agility, raising his hand in a theatrical orchid gesture. “You… scoundrel… you finally remembered me…”

On the other end of the call, Shao Zhan looked like he’d swallowed a fly. “Speak. Human. Words.”

But Tangyuan wasn’t done playing around. “Yesterday, I was your ‘sweet darling.’ Today, I’m ‘Old Lady Niu’? You heartless bast*rd.”

Shao Zhan didn’t even acknowledge his antics and instead brought up a pair of limited-edition headphones he’d been eyeing for a while. “The store clerk just messaged me—they’ve finally restocked the black ones…”

“Captain! Boss! Ancestor!” Fat Tangyuan nearly leapt out of bed. If his leg weren’t in a cast, he might’ve bounced straight up to the ceiling. “I want them! I want them! I want them!”

“No more calling me ‘scoundrel’ now, huh?” Shao Zhan teased, smiling.

“Dearest godfather, please accept your son’s humble bow!” Tangyuan bent two fingers in a mock salute and gave him a bow, then leaned toward the camera like he was sharing a secret. “There’s something I have to confess today. Actually…” He paused for dramatic effect. “I got injured on purpose. Everyone else at the base is in perfect health—I couldn’t just let my godfather be the only one with a disability.”

“Thanks, but the doctor says I can get the cast removed this weekend.”

“This weekend?” Tangyuan raised an eyebrow. “But we’re going to Singapore for the competition this weekend! You think you’ll make it in time just to round out the numbers? Our main player is injured, you know.”

Even after the cast was off, there’d still be rehab, and it was uncertain whether Shao Zhan would be able to compete. But any trace of melancholy was swept away by the little fatty’s comedic antics.

“Captain, I’m injured too!” Tangyuan raised his tiny hand excitedly.

“And?”

“I’d like to request a sub from Team B… I want a vacation too…”

Before he could finish, Du Changcheng smacked him again. In less than half a day, the coach—who felt like he was losing ten years of his life—was already trembling with fury. Shao Zhan, far away from the hospital, tried to calm him down over the phone, saying, “I’m sure our little fat one didn’t intentionally get hurt just because his favorite girl group is performing in China the same weekend as the competition.”

That only made the coach angrier.

Qin Chuan, who had just returned from discussing the injury with the doctor, walked in just in time to see Tangyuan getting hit again. Seizing the opportunity, he landed a few playful punches of his own, finally venting the frustration he’d built up from dealing with the little rascal recently.

Li Bai, who couldn’t pull them apart no matter how hard he tried, finally gave up and folded his arms, “admiring” the tragic fate of Fat Tangyuan. His mind was spinning—this team had achieved such glorious results before he joined. There had to be some hidden secret behind it all. Maybe… just maybe, it was hidden in this very scene before him.

The teary-eyed Tangyuan, being pummeled, gasped out, “You’re overthinking it—really overthinking it!”

If the nurse hadn’t come in for rounds just then, the little fatty probably would’ve taken a dozen more punches.

Still teary, Tangyuan watched the nurse walk away, then muttered to Yang Sa, who was hanging out at the door sneakily texting on his phone again, “Some new captain you are. One of your players is getting gang-beaten and you don’t even step in.”

Shao Zhan’s voice drifted out from the phone speaker: “Fatty~ I’ve already arranged everything for you. Even though your lower half is injured, your upper body can still contribute to the team…”

“You old beast! Are you even speaking human language?! Listen to yourself—does that sound human to you?!” Jiang Ranan couldn’t take it anymore and covered the Fat guy’s mouth. “Captain, just tell us what you want to do with this guy.”

“Rent a wheelchair and bring him back to the base. Keep an eye on him—he can’t skip a single training session, even for half a day.”

Shao Zhan’s plan was overheard word-for-word by the translator who had just returned with a late-night snack. The moment he heard it, he put down the tray and said, “I’ll go rent a wheelchair,” then dashed out like a whirlwind.

Tangyuan, eyes glistening with tears, stretched out his hand, trying to reach out to that rapidly retreating silhouette, and thought to himself: You don’t have to be this eager, you know…

It was Yang Sa’s first time leading a team in competition—especially under circumstances like these. If only they’d had a warm-up match or a qualifying round, they could’ve at least worked on team chemistry. The forums were full of pessimistic posts; some even mocked that Xinghai winning the championship was as likely as a gorilla swimming laps.

In the office, Shao Zhan closed the page. These things were usually handled by Qin Chuan, but with the team in its current state, even he was spread too thin. Shao Zhan knew the players’ abilities well. Winning the Asia Cup would normally just be a footnote in their careers—but this time, it meant everything. It could even determine the survival of the entire Xinghai club.

As for his own situation, they couldn’t know for sure until the cast was removed. Whether he could return to pro play was still up in the air. From this point on, every mistake, every loss the team suffered would be magnified online for all to see.

The pressure on the players was unimaginable, but what worried him the most was Yang Sa. That kid seemed to be carrying way too much on his shoulders. Du Changcheng wasn’t in the best of health, so during Shao Zhan’s time as captain, he naturally picked up more of the burden. Bringing in a foreign coach so quickly this time was meant to take some of the pressure off the new captain.

But it didn’t seem to help much. Even in the hospital, Yang Sa took every opportunity during video calls to obsessively go over every tactical detail, even preparing for potential in-game emergencies and asking Shao Zhan how he would handle them.

Shao Zhan patiently answered each one, but his final conclusion boiled down to just four words:

“Adapt to the situation.”

The battlefield changes in the blink of an eye—no one can plan for everything. Thankfully, the Fat one’s comic relief kept the team atmosphere light enough.

If he could, Shao Zhan truly wished he could fly back to base and share the burden with his teammates. But he couldn’t. His responsibilities wouldn’t allow it. All he could do was sit at his cramped desk, trapped in place, as the night outside the window grew darker and deeper.

“I’m a patient! I’m still in a cast!”

In the lobby on the first floor, Tangyuan clung to his wheelchair, whining as he tried to stir up some sympathy from his teammates.

“Fatty” Coach Du Changcheng said with deep sincerity, pinching the folds of fat on the back of his neck, “you have to understand—it’s not that we don’t want to care for you.”

“It’s just that with your weight, we physically can’t,” wheezed Team Manager Qin Chuan, blunt as ever.

No exaggeration—it had taken nearly the entire Xinghai team’s collective strength just to get this guy out of the car. And now this little fatty was lying around, wanting to be carried upstairs? Absolute fantasy.

Trying to be helpful, the translator crouched down and offered to carry Tangyuan on his back. But Jiang Ranan, who was the same age, quickly pulled him back up. “Are you nuts? You trying to die? You think you can carry him with that build of yours?”

“What’s wrong with my build?” Tangyuan pouted, wiggling the foot in the cast. Then he turned to Yang Sa with a pitiful voice, “Little Captain…”

Yang Sa had just finished discussing the day’s training priorities with Coach Li Bai. At Tangyuan’s words, he nodded slightly, his expression turning serious. “The big competition is just around the corner. We have to pay extra attention to the health of the players, especially the starters.” His eyes swept across the group. “From today forward, Xinghai’s main team—”

He paused.

“—must not suffer any more non-combat-related losses.”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan responded in near unison.

“Manager, coaches, please take care of your health as well,” Yang Sa glanced at his watch. “It’s now 10:45 PM. Take a short break—see you all in the training room in fifteen minutes.”

With that, he turned and led the way. The players and coaches followed closely behind, and Manager Qin Chuan, on his way out, even dragged away the translator who had wanted to stay behind and help.

“Hey! You’re seriously leaving? If you all go—” Tangyuan spun frantically in his wheelchair. “What about me?!”

“Anyone who’s not in the training room in fifteen minutes will have their pay docked…”

Coach Du Changcheng’s voice echoed from above. But Tangyuan wasn’t fazed—he had endorsement deals and a cut from livestream revenues. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Childish. You think someone like me can be bribed with something so petty?”

“Dinner will be docked too…”

The end of Coach Du’s sentence had barely landed when Tangyuan immediately stood up from his wheelchair. Driven by sheer willpower, he began to climb the stairs—literally crawl. When Qin Chuan came back with the crutches that had been bought during Du Changcheng’s surgery but never used, he was greeted by the sight of a giant caterpillar inching its way up the staircase.

He was so startled, he dropped the crutches and ran, afraid he’d caught some kind of mutant virus.

“You people… You’re absolutely heartless… AHHHH—”

That night, the stairwell of Xinghai’s base echoed with cries of pain and suffering, as if someone were weeping in slow motion.

After finally managing to crawl to the training room within the time limit, Tangyuan spotted a package sitting atop his desk. Leaning on the crutches, he half-hopped his way over, nearly in tears as he opened it. With reverence, he pulled out the brand-new limited-edition headphones and placed them on his head like he was handling a sacred relic.

“Captain, I love you. I’ll love you for ten thousand years. Muah muah muah!” Tangyuan, thrilled beyond belief, whipped out his phone and sent a flurry of kiss emojis to his sponsor and “dad,” Shao Zhan.

Even with the power of the new headphones, though, he still got completely wrecked during training—to the point of full-on sobbing.

Taking the players’ conditions into account, Coach Du wrapped up the review session as quickly as possible and dismissed the team to rest.

While they were training, the translator had already carried the wheelchair up to the third floor and was now waiting dutifully at the training room door, having naturally taken on the responsibility of caring for the injured.


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 71


Chapter 71 – Pitiful, Sensitive, and Weak


Although Tangyuan’s pitiful, sensitive, and weak little heart was under vicious attack from all directions, he still received scraps of elbow meat fed to him by the new team captain.

“I’m not eating that,” the chubby boy tilted his chin with principle. “I’ve gained weight.”

“Fight poison with poison—it might just have a miraculous effect,” Yang Sa said persuasively.

Under Yang Sa’s “persuasion,” the bright-eyed Tangyuan hugged the chunk of elbow meat, his overly plump cheeks squishing into folds of happiness.

In the shadow under the restaurant eaves stood the players of Team Xinghai, with only one round, full belly sticking out into the sunlight, basking in the warmth of the autumn sun.

Du Changcheng turned his face away in frustration, thinking to himself that the team members he led were getting worse every year. The old players might’ve been bad at competing, but at least they were hardworking and obedient. This batch? Chatty, lazy, with poor results and huge appetites. They’d ballooned into spheres, yet still thought highly of themselves.

“Pang’er, during New Year’s last year, I had a video call with your dad and promised him I’d make sure you lost weight this year no matter what.”

Du Changcheng began earnestly, only for Tangyuan to reply even more earnestly, “Breaking that promise for another year isn’t such a big deal.”

Qin Chuan came out after settling the bill and casually tossed the receipt onto a sunbathing watermelon belly, telling its owner to transfer the money to Shao Zhan.

“What the heck?” Tangyuan jumped up. “Didn’t we always just put it on the tab before?”

“To welcome the new coach, we got a special budget approved,” Qin Chuan said, moving closer to the shameless guy and warning, “Don’t think about pocketing it all yourself.”

Tangyuan said mysteriously, “I didn’t pocket it. I gave Lao Zhuang two hundred and Lao Du three hundred.”

“Why didn’t I get a cut?” Jiang Ranan complained. “That’s just unfair.”

Tangyuan burped and waved it off. “What’s fair or unfair—are we the kind of brothers who’d squabble over a few bucks?” Then, lazily, he spat out two words: “We… shouldn’t…”

Stuffed and satisfied, Tangyuan had originally planned to return to the base for a nap, so he could face the day’s training full of energy. But he fell asleep the moment he got in the car, only to wake up and find himself in an endless grassy field, nowhere near the base.

When he woke up, the car was completely empty—not even the driver was in sight.

“Bunch of old beasts, abandoning a poor guy out here,” he muttered, shivering as he climbed out of the vehicle, desperate for a bathroom. “Where even is this place…”

It wasn’t until he saw Shao Zhan in full riding gear, his arm in a sling, leading a horse with his other hand and guiding the new team captain who was mounted on it, that he finally felt a little relieved. He found a secluded patch of grass to handle his most urgent biological need, then started walking toward his teammates, grumbling all the way.

So it turned out this was the new coach’s suggestion. The most pressing issue among Xinghai Team One’s members wasn’t technique—it was trust. In terms of individual skill, each of them was outstanding in their respective roles. Even the opponents they’d face on the same stage were technically strong and tactically sound. At their level, what made the difference in matches was adaptability on the field—and even more so, mindset.

Although luck played a part, there wasn’t much the coach could teach them before a match. At this point, psychological readiness was more important than fine-tuning tactics.

In Li Bai’s eyes, Shao Zhan on the field wasn’t just the in-game commander—he was the team’s anchor. His presence inspired belief. With him there, nothing felt impossible.

Yang Sa, while technically excellent, was far from reaching that level of influence. And trust between teammates wasn’t something you could force into someone’s head. So Li Bai proposed a new approach. Yang Sa would take on both the commander and main sniper roles, while giving the rest of the team more freedom and space to operate. Their strategies shouldn’t mimic the ones used when Shao Zhan was leading; instead, they should bloom in all directions.

“Bloom in all directions?” Tangyuan couldn’t help giving a mental thumbs-up when Jiang Ranan repeated the coach’s words. “Our foreign coach is actually using our military’s guerrilla warfare strategy. Brilliant.”

He still didn’t understand what blooming everywhere had to do with horseback riding, but if it meant a little less training, he was all for it.

Despite being seasoned veterans on the battlegrounds of PUBG, in real life they were still just a bunch of kids around twenty years old. Rarely allowed off base, they were now bursting with energy and joy, running around like happy little wild things.

While Shao Zhan chatted with the riding instructor, Yang Sa secretly pulled out his phone to review his mistakes from the practice match the night before. It wasn’t until the former captain reminded him to stay present that he reluctantly put it away.

“Addicted much?” Shao Zhan teased. “Getting too attached to your gadgets isn’t a great habit.”

The late autumn sky stretched wide and high, with fluffy clouds clustered like handmade cotton candy, scattered across the heavens.

Shao Zhan stood beneath the shadow of one such cotton-candy cloud, looking up at Yang Sa on horseback. The richly colored grass swayed gently in the breeze, stretching in different directions like it was doing yoga.

“I’m not,” Yang Sa muttered, not caring whether the other man heard him, and awkwardly turned his face away. The peaceful moment was broken by Tangyuan’s pig-slaughter-level howls in the distance.

Watching his teammate from afar, Yang Sa asked worriedly, “Would you call that crying, or laughing?”

“Ignore him,” Shao Zhan said, recognizing that the little troublemakers were just fooling around. He didn’t bother intervening, instead leading the horse slowly down the trail. “Still scared?”

Yang Sa gently shook his head. The wind tousled his hair, and in that moment, he looked more alive—brighter than usual, like sunlight.

“This horse is called Cheese. She loves to sneak food and has the gentlest temperament.” As if understanding Shao Zhan’s words, the reddish-brown mare let out a soft, distinct snort.

Shao Zhan soothed her with a few kind words, rubbing her neck as he calmed her down. Then he looked up and said to Yang Sa, “Not scared now, right? After the competition, my cast should come off. I’ll bring you back a few times—soon enough, you’ll be riding like a pro.”

Amid Tangyuan’s dramatic, life-or-death howls came a pleasant voice: “Okay,” Yang Sa replied.

While Tangyuan was struggling with all his might just to get on the horse, Shao Zhan had already led the gentle little mare halfway around the field. Taking advantage of the fact that the new coach didn’t understand Chinese, the still-grounded Tangyuan grumbled sourly, “Are they here to ride horses or to fall in love on the company’s dime?”

The translator walking beside the coach mumbled a vague explanation, then quietly placed an online order for some digestive tablets on his phone.

“Hey, where’d that old bast*rd go?” Tangyuan seemed less concerned about getting on the horse and more focused on the pair of lovebirds in the distance. Without another word, he pulled his left foot out of the stirrup, lost his balance, and whipped out his phone to make a call.

Yang Sa stared at the caller ID on the screen for a long moment before finally answering.

The next second, a nosy voice came blaring through the receiver: “Captain! Where did Old Captain go? Why’d he leave?”

“Ask him yourself,” came Yang Sa’s cold reply—just as distant and aloof as always.

Tangyuan took a deep breath to steel himself and tried again, “It’s just that Captain Shao’s hurt and can’t answer the phone, right?” His eyebrows were practically dancing as he pleaded. “Come on, just tell me. It’s not some top-secret mission between the two of you, is it?”

Hearing this, Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan—who had been hanging around to help—exchanged a look, then wordlessly mounted their horses and rode away, abandoning the idiot before he dragged them down with him.

Yang Sa was silent for a while. When he realized the other person was still patiently waiting on the line, he finally said, “Something urgent came up at HQ. He had to go deal with it.”

“Oh…” Tangyuan responded vaguely, and before Yang Sa could say anything else, the call was abruptly hung up.

Reinvigorated, his posture straightened, his voice steady, and his tone confident, Tangyuan started grumbling at the darkened screen, “Can’t even ask a question? Is he your team captain or ours? I was being polite, and you really think you—”

He was mid-rant when a sharp whistle cut through the air. Yang Sa, reins in one hand, spurred the reddish-brown mare forward. The gentle little horse suddenly burst into a gallop, streaking like lightning into the forest, disappearing behind a curtain of green leaves.

“T-T-Team Captain is that cool?” Tangyuan stood on one leg, frozen like a broken statue, foot still stuck in the air.

The German coach muttered something under his breath. Tangyuan glanced sideways at the translator, who clearly wasn’t in the mood to engage.

“What’d he say?” Tangyuan asked.

“He said,” the translator replied with resignation, “a child raised in the Campbell family would of course know how to ride a horse.”

“What family?” Tangyuan narrowed his eyes and pressed further.

The translator snapped impatiently, “Don’t ask. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t understand if you don’t tell me?” Tangyuan huffed, slapping the horse’s rear in frustration. The horse, who had long wanted to rejoin its companions, took this as a green light and bolted—only to be yanked back by the riding instructor on the other side.

Still balancing on one leg, Tangyuan got thrown off balance by the sudden jolt and went tumbling the opposite way like a meatball. Luckily, he wasn’t moving too fast, and the translator, now standing nearby, kindly reached out a hand to help.

But that helping hand turned out to be a problem. Normally, Tangyuan was a nimble little chubby guy who was pretty good at protecting himself. The moment he got hit, he instinctively twisted to land on his side, curling up so that he’d hit the ground with his back. It’d hurt, sure, but with all that padding, he wouldn’t really get hurt.

Unfortunately, the translator’s well-meaning grab ended up throwing everything off. Tangyuan, already off balance, lost control mid-air and fell, dragging the translator down with him. He instinctively stuck out his left leg to brace the fall—his knee gave out on the spot.

The on-site medic rushed over with a first-aid kit, and after a quick check and basic stabilizing, the on-duty manager personally drove him to the hospital.

X-rays, diagnosis, treatment—it was well past 9 PM by the time everything was done.

Tangyuan, who had gone out of his way to request a hospital meal as a late-night snack, called Shao Zhan on video, proudly showing off his cast and the leg now suspended in a sling. He said excitedly, “Captain, we’re officially hospital buddies now!”

“Thanks for keeping me company,” Shao Zhan replied half-heartedly. “Now hand the phone to the new captain.”

“Why can’t you show a little humanitarian spirit and keep me company for once?” Tangyuan grumbled, but Shao Zhan hung up directly. The next second, Yang Sa’s phone started ringing.

As the new captain answered and responded to questions from the other end, Tangyuan poured all his misery into eating. “So heartless! Look at me, injured this badly, and not a single word of sympathy!” He devoured every last bite on his plate with grunting determination, licking it clean. Still not satisfied, he reached for the call bell, but before he could press it, the translator—who had been standing nearby—grabbed the tray and said he’d go ask for another portion. Then he ran off at lightning speed.

Jiang Ranan, who couldn’t take it anymore, gave his teammate’s bulging belly a pat through the hospital gown and said, “Brother, can you chill out a little?”

Tangyuan protectively hugged the wobbling waves of pale belly fat that spilled out and responded with pride, “You’re just jealous!”


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 70


Chapter 70 – Lining One’s Own Pockets


Despite Yang Sa’s efforts to adjust himself and accommodate his teammates’ habits, the anticipated goals still remained far out of reach.

Fortunately, the coach they had invited earlier had finally arrived. The new coach, Li Bai, wasn’t very fluent in Chinese, and the translator from the school had taken a sudden leave of absence, so all communication responsibilities fell to Yang Sa.

Before the new coach arrived, the Xinghai team prepared a simple yet grand welcome ceremony. In reality, it was mostly Tangyuan dragging Jiang Ranan and some youth trainees to help set it up. When Yang Sa and Zhuang Bai came downstairs after finishing their duo practice match, they saw a heart-shaped balloon arrangement set up in the empty garden. No matter how stoic a person, such an obvious setup couldn’t be ignored.

If he remembered correctly, it was the exact same scene some silly pineapple had arranged a week ago when they mistakenly thought he was their online crush and tried to confess.

The moment he stepped out of the villa, memories long buried in ruins surged back like demons resurrected from hell, full of malice and mockery.

Only the oblivious Tangyuan was humming a little tune, practically bouncing with pride over his quick wits.

“Why’d you use the props Old Pineapple prepared for his confession?” Zhuang Bai avoided the others and cornered Tangyuan to question him.

“Huh?” Tangyuan’s chubby face was full of shock. He cautiously leaned in, glancing left and right to make sure no one else was around. “How’d you figure that out?”

With a sigh, Zhuang Bai helped straighten his oversized head and couldn’t resist poking at his puffy eyes. “Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell, okay?”

“It’s that obvious?” Tangyuan sheepishly tugged at a lock of hair near his temple. “Don’t make a fuss, okay? I’m only telling you. So, Qin Xiaochuan wanted to throw a welcome party for the new coach, but he got caught up with stuff from the group. He gave me 10,000 to handle it. Now that you’ve caught on, how about we split the money?”

He held up three fingers mysteriously, then pulled one back. “Later, check under my keyboard and take… no, just grab 200 in cash.”

Zhuang Bai snorted and gave his meaty shoulder a pat. “No thanks. You can take this landmine yourself.”

“Too little for you?” Tangyuan huffed and quickly inflated three pink heart-shaped balloons. “If you think it’s too little, I won’t give you any!” He paused for breath, reminiscing about the pump Old Pineapple had smashed in a fit before leaving.

“This, this, this—” Du Changcheng was nearly blinded by the mass of pink heart balloons. “Who’s confessing again? Didn’t you guys make things clear with that Old Pineapple guy?”

POP—a balloon burst loudly. Tangyuan, still guarding the “heart,” ignored his now-reddened face and dragged Du Changcheng aside. “I’ll give you three hundred. Just pretend this is your first time seeing this setup…”

Zhuang Bai, quietly rearranging the decorations: “Why’s he getting a hundred more than me?”

Tangyuan shot him a look, full of disappointment. “Our coach is upright and selfless. How can a man of conscience be worth the same as you?”

“Enough, quit messing around. He’s here.” Despite being swamped with work, the ever-resourceful Qin Chuan still made time to personally pick up the new coach. But as he stepped out of the car and saw the heart-shaped balloons and drooping bouquet, he had to fight hard to suppress his urge to lose it, forcing a polite smile instead.

Fortunately, the friend from afar wasn’t picky. He probably thought having a welcome ceremony at all was already pretty nice—just like those foreign LAP players they had just sent off, he chuckled happily. He took out his phone to record a video and sent it to his girlfriend and future mother-in-law.

Although his qualifications and abilities had already been assessed, how well he could work with the team still needed to be tested. After a few brief greetings, they moved on to daily training.

Du Changcheng led Team One through their usual training routine. The new coach, Li Bai, blond-haired and blue-eyed, stood with his arms crossed, silently observing the players’ performance.

Once Du Changcheng finished reviewing the team’s mistakes during practice, he handed the floor over to Li Bai and asked for his feedback on the players.

Li Bai gave brief evaluations of each player’s strengths and weaknesses and even brought out a PowerPoint presentation. It outlined issues and improvement suggestions he had compiled based on Xinghai players’ performances in past international tournaments.

“Mars is a player I really admire. It’s a pity that I won’t get to stand by his side for my debut as Xinghai’s head coach,” Li Bai said. Yang Sa, acting as translator, condensed his words while simultaneously entering them into a document.

Since news of Shao Zhan’s injury had been kept under wraps, all previous plans were based on a team formation that had him at the lead.

Now that the team leader had changed, both the training plans and strategies had to be adjusted accordingly.

After watching the team all evening, Li Bai pointed out that the most critical issue facing Xinghai’s main team was psychological. The arena is a battlefield—if a player can’t fully trust their teammates in their heart, how can they entrust their back to them in the heat of a brutal match?

Based on his observations and the training plan he had previously prepared, he proposed several adjustments. Du Changcheng agreed with his suggestions.

Li Bai’s role as the new coach was basically confirmed. The team leadership intended to make it official once Shao Zhan returned to go through the formal process. After all, Shao Zhan was the team captain. Even though he had left due to injury, he remained the soul of Xinghai.

The earlier welcome party had been pretty half-hearted, so they decided to prepare a proper welcome banquet over the weekend. After a few days of getting to know each other, the players had grown more comfortable with Li Bai—though most of their communication still relied on translation apps.

As a quintessential foreigner, Li Bai had that particular brand of cultural difference: an unfathomably carefree and optimistic outlook, coupled with an unexpectedly delicate emotional side. This was most evident in how he recorded even the tiniest things—snapping photos or filming short videos to report back to his girlfriend.

At that moment, Li Bai was busy snapping photo after photo of the swan-shaped pastries, all while casually and clearly asking Manager Qin Chuan about the procedures for registering for social insurance.

The newly arrived interpreter was obviously a fan, brimming with passion for both the players and the game. Who would’ve thought the content they were translating would be so down-to-earth?

Fat Tangyuan had been listening for quite a while and finally seized a break between dishes to ask Li Bai a question: “You’re a foreigner—why do you care about social insurance?”

To everyone’s surprise, the usually laid-back Coach Li Bai began counting on his fingers and replied with a straight face, “You need to pay into social insurance for a certain number of years to get household registration (hukou). Only with a hukou can you buy a house. And only if I buy a house will my future mother-in-law let me marry her daughter…”

It was a whole line of reasoning—thorough and logically sound.

Fat Tangyuan couldn’t help but give him a greasy thumbs-up. “You’ve really done your homework on Chinese culture.”

Li Bai seemed to catch the gist of that sentence despite the language barrier. He gave a shy smile and said, “Since I’ve come all this way, I have to take a wife home, right?”

The audience didn’t exactly approve of that sentiment. Judging by how he acted, it was genuinely hard to tell whether he was planning to marry a wife or become one.

They were about one round into the welcome banquet when Shao Zhan finally arrived, having just escaped from a pile of pressing affairs.

The part-time interpreter, a young guy earning some side cash, went wide-eyed the moment he saw Shao Zhan. His hands clenched into fists on his knees, and his previously fluent English turned into a stuttering mess. Blushing furiously, he sat stiffly, not daring to sneak even a glance at the former team captain.

Thankfully, Shao Zhan’s German was decent enough for casual conversation. He had previously spent a month visiting the German PUBG committee on an exchange as part of the management team. Although he hadn’t met Li Bai back then, the two now chatted without hesitation, trading gossip about German players and former colleagues.

Ever curious, Fat Tangyuan blinked his big round eyes and sneakily tugged at the translator’s sleeve to ask what they were talking about. The poor guy gave him a simple summary but couldn’t bring himself to say the rest out loud.

Fat Tangyuan nodded knowingly—it was probably some really filthy stuff, too much for the young translator to repeat. He didn’t press further and happily dug into his giant pork knuckle.

Shao Zhan’s right hand was injured, so his secretary usually handled most of his daily affairs. Since this was a team dinner, he’d given the secretary the night off. He hadn’t planned on eating and figured he’d just sip water to get through the evening.

But after chatting with Li Bai for a while, he looked down to find that someone had thoughtfully deboned and plated crispy fried ribs with lily bulbs and cashews for him. Then came boneless chicken wings, braised lettuce stems, and stir-fried pork—balanced, nutritious, and neatly arranged.

Feigning nonchalance, Shao Zhan began eating from the plate in front of him, never once interrupting the stream of Sino-German gossip coming out of his mouth.

Fat Tangyuan’s face darkened, his heart burned with rage. Just from the way Coach Li Bai looked at him, he could tell—this old bastard had definitely been talking trash behind his back. But what could he do about it? Other than taking out his fury on the pork knuckle, was he supposed to bite someone?

Well… come to think of it, maybe that wasn’t entirely out of the question.

Fat Tangyuan spat out bits of bone with a puchi puchi, then waved over the waiter. “Another braised pork knuckle for this table…”

“I’ve had enough of you. You’re already like this and still eating?” Du Changcheng grabbed a handful of belly fat and held his forehead in despair.

Qin Chuan, sitting nearby, took a break from dismantling a crab to offer some reassurance to the coach. “The little fatty may be chubby, but his health check actually came back clean.” Then, lifting his pinky and pointing to the report on his phone, he added, “Unlike you, who ticked every box: high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high blood sugar… You didn’t miss a single one.”

Watching the color visibly drain from Du Changcheng’s face, Fat Tangyuan scooted closer to Qin Chuan and whispered, “Thanks for that cataclysmic rescue technique.”

Qin Chuan kept his head down, focused on pulling apart crab legs, face completely serene—untouched by the chaos around him.

When the new pork knuckle arrived, it did a half-rotation around the table. Fat Tangyuan’s eyes followed it longingly as the tendon and lean meat were picked apart right in front of him.

“Come on, vice-captain, that’s outrageous.” The chubby boy clenched his fists and took a righteous stand, looking like he was ready to sacrifice himself for justice. If not for the subtle trembling coming from the knee beside him, Jiang Ranan might’ve believed he was truly about to rebel.

“I heard you’re trying to lose weight,” Yang Sa said casually, not even looking up. Those six light words completely deflated Fat Tangyuan’s momentum.

Overwhelmed with sorrow, Fat Tangyuan dove into Qin Chuan’s arms—who was busy gnawing on crispy cartilage—and whimpered into his chest, “Chuan-chuan, save me… Am I really that fat? Am I truly that fat?”

Manager Qin Chuan crunched loudly on his food and lifted his pinky again. “Let’s not state the obvious out loud, okay?”

“How can you all be like this,” Fat Tangyuan said, hugging himself like a wronged panda. “No care, no love—what happened to this team?”

Zhuang Bai, who wasn’t very interested in the meat dishes, set down a piece of lotus root with surprise. “Our team has always been this cold.”

“You want to come here to find warmth,” Jiang Ranran, holding a bowl of health-preserving soup, delivered a fatal blow, “Are you crazy?”


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 69


Chapter 69 – Suited Up


At the same time, hidden away in his room bonding with his pepper-salted pig trotters, the chubby Tangyuan sneezed—twice—both loud enough to shake the walls.

Uncle Zhou held back the restless parrot and said to Shao Zhan, “You should go up. Someone’s still awake.”

Shao Zhan looked up at the light glowing from the third-floor training room window. “He stays up this late every day?”

Uncle Zhou nodded. “Other than you, I haven’t seen anyone this hardworking.”

Shao Zhan took the stairs two at a time and stood behind the door for quite a while before Yang Sa even noticed. It wasn’t until Shao Zhan reached out and took off his headphones that he finally realized someone was there.

Yang Sa was just about to snap at him, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the crisp hem of a suit. Without missing a beat, he maneuvered his special forces soldier to hide in a more concealed spot.

Without the aid of sound to detect the enemy, Yang Sa’s soldier was quickly surrounded and overwhelmed by a full squad of enemies.

Staring at the grayed-out game over screen, Shao Zhan moved the mouse and exited the game. “Training like this is pointless.”

Frustrated, Yang Sa picked up his empty cup and pretended to drink from it, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “Why are you back?”

Shao Zhan thought for a second. “Passing by.”

“You leaving again later?”

Shao Zhan shook his head. “No. Working overtime at this hour—you’re worse than a capitalist.” He glanced at the timer on the screen. “You really stay up this late every day?”

“Not… not always.” Yang Sa awkwardly put the cup down.

“Wanna talk somewhere else?” Shao Zhan suggested, not giving him time to refuse before turning and heading out. On the way past the break room, he grabbed a bottle of soda water and handed it to the person behind him.

Yang Sa took the bottle and quietly followed.

It was his first time up on the base’s rooftop. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, his professional instincts kicked in—he began analyzing climbing points, noting which spots were better for cover, and where would be ideal for sniping.

Shao Zhan saw right through him and leaned casually on the railing. “Southwest corner’s best—great field of view, easy to retreat from. Northwest corner’s risky—easy to get flanked. But if you’ve got backup, it gives you a wide line of sight—easy to cover deliveries, and good for breaking up fights.”

“Not just that,” Yang Sa pointed to a balcony that could serve as a lookout post. “Set up an MP5K there, and I could cover most of the residential zone…”

In the middle of freely speaking his mind, Yang Sa suddenly stopped. He exchanged a glance with the person beside him, and they both burst into laughter. His light, clear laughter drifted with the chilly breeze.

“Something bothering you?” Shao Zhan asked, imitating Tangyuan’s tone. “Come on, tell your big brother and cheer him up.”

“Big brother?” Yang Sa snorted. “You’re only a few years older than me.”

“Kid, show some respect. Let me tell you—whether it’s one day, one hour, one minute, even a second—older is older. Come on, say ‘big brother’ so I can hear it.” He reached out to tickle Yang Sa.

Completely caught off guard, Yang Sa flinched in shock. He wanted to fight back, but held back, worried about Shao Zhan’s injuries. Knowing he didn’t stand a chance, Yang Sa raised both hands in surrender. “Big brother, big brother.”

“Good boy,” Shao Zhan leaned in and whispered by his ear, “Call me ‘big brother’ once, and I’ll be your big brother for life.”

Yang Sa leaned against the metal railing the same way Shao Zhan did, absently picking at the engraved leaves on the surface, frustration evident in his movements.

“The big match is around the corner. You guys haven’t had enough time to build synergy, so tensions are high. Even small things that shouldn’t be problems keep going wrong—am I right?”

Yang Sa didn’t respond. Shao Zhan had led his team to dominate countless battlegrounds. His tactical skills and leadership were top-tier. Even though Yang Sa had been poring over Xinghai’s internal data these past few days, studying Shao Zhan’s strategies and battle formations, he still felt a huge gap.

To be precise, the more he studied, the more aware he became of his shortcomings. With his current skill level, it was nearly impossible for him to lead a team to place among the top pro squads. On top of that, his coordination with the team was shaky at best. If they hadn’t already secured a spot in the Asia Cup, he would’ve doubted whether they could’ve even qualified in the first place.

Looking back, the bold declaration he made about winning the Asia Cup now felt downright childish and laughable.

Shao Zhan didn’t have the heart to pressure the young captain any further, but he wasn’t one for comforting words either. This was a rite of passage for anyone stepping onto the international stage, and an even greater responsibility for every team captain to bear. He knew how hard it was—he’d been through it himself. And this time, the boy standing in front of him wouldn’t be an exception.

The pain before transformation is the price every warrior must pay to be reborn from the cocoon.

But he believed in the boy—believed he would pull through. That one day, on a grander, brighter stage, he would win brilliantly. Shao Zhan also knew that his own time in the spotlight would eventually pass. This battleground of PUBG would someday welcome new warriors. And these kids, carrying their dreams and the audience’s hopes, would go higher and farther than he ever did.

“The big battle’s just around the corner. Captain Yang, are you ready?” Shao Zhan teased in a deliberately cheerful tone.

Yang Sa ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly messing up his already tousled strands.

“Aiyo, why so pessimistic at your age? I’ve got a secret technique for final showdowns—want me to teach you?” Shao Zhan put on an exaggerated streamer’s voice. “Not 299, not 199, today the boss is coughing up blood with this giveaway—yours for the low, low price of one smile from our pretty boy!” He shook Yang Sa by the shoulders. “Come on, give us a smile. Just one smile!”

But to his surprise, not only did Yang Sa refuse to play along—he actually bent down and bit Shao Zhan’s wrist that was resting on his shoulder. He didn’t bite hard, just gently pressed his teeth in.

Shao Zhan didn’t pull away. He exaggerated the pain with a dramatic cry, “That was my only good hand! You’ve ruined it!”

Yang Sa generously let go, then lightly pressed on the spot he’d just bitten, which had turned red. “Well? Gonna tell me or not?” He bared his teeth, pretending to act fierce with his good looks.

“Alright, alright,” Shao Zhan gave in, leaning lazily against the railing in his formal suit. “You win.”

“What?” Thinking he was about to be let in on some martial arts-level secret, Yang Sa immediately leaned in. “What did you say?”

That night, under a clear breeze and bright moon, accompanied by the chorus of summer insects, the scene was just too perfect. Momentarily dazzled by the wind and beauty of it all, Shao Zhan couldn’t help but lower his head and plant a soft kiss on Yang Sa’s pale cheek.

Completely caught off guard, Yang Sa, who had been laser-focused on battle tactics, jolted like he’d been electrocuted and leapt backward. His eyes darted everywhere, not knowing where to look, and he bolted down the hallway like a shot, disappearing through the half-open door.

Back at his training station, he played three consecutive matches. Between games, he snuck out and smoked five cigarettes before finally calming down.

Meanwhile, Shao Zhan hadn’t really fallen asleep in his room either. He’d left the door slightly ajar, hoping to grab a moment to talk about the match. But after watching Yang Sa run back and forth like a headless chicken, he eventually gave up waiting—and passed out cold.

With each round going more smoothly than the last, Yang Sa gradually regained his rhythm. His confidence returned, and his rationality—like a wild beast—was finally caged again. A barrage of questions began to surface in his mind:

Why did he kiss me?

What’s the relationship between us now?

Even if he’s the boss, does that mean he can kiss me whenever he wants?

Reclaiming his confidence from the battlefield, Yang Sa cleanly exited the game and marched straight to the room of the “offender.” He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could touch the door, it creaked open with a soft squeak.

In the dim light, Shao Zhan was half-lying on the bed, still dressed in the same clothes from earlier. His tall, lean figure was fully on display.

Yang Sa’s burning fury vanished in an instant. He stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment before quietly tiptoeing over to the wardrobe and pulling out a blanket. Just as he was about to drape it over the other man, Shao Zhan shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. Startled, Yang Sa dropped the blanket and bolted like a startled cat.

Still groggy, Shao Zhan sat up, rubbing the half of his body that had gone numb from sleeping on it. He stared in confusion at the blanket now draped over the back of a chair—and locked eyes with the big round glasses of a Minion cartoon character printed on it. They blinked at each other for a long, long moment.

Since he had an early meeting to catch, Shao Zhan washed up quickly. The entire base was silent, the only sounds were of the myna bird clucking and pecking as it wandered around.

Their schedules didn’t align at all, so Shao Zhan left Yang Sa a message on his way out. But just as he hit send, his phone started ringing—it was Yang Sa.

“You’re still awake?” Shao Zhan was surprised. Kids these days really can stay up, he thought. But then he remembered his own early days leading a team—how he once trained nonstop just to master a single movement technique. In that moment, it suddenly felt like it had been a lifetime since he left the battleground of PUBG.

From the sound of things, Yang Sa wasn’t far from the greenbelt; Shao Zhan could hear the myna screeching in the background. Having pulled an all-nighter, Yang Sa sounded impatient, cutting straight to the point—asking his former captain to hand over the so-called secret technique.

Originally planning to tease him a bit longer, Shao Zhan glanced at the time and realized he was almost at the company. He put away his playful tone and spoke seriously into the phone. \He said that fixing weaknesses wasn’t easy—especially when taking over a team that was about to compete in a world tournament.

With limited time for team synergy, focusing too much on shortcomings could easily lead to a deadlock, trapping both individuals and the entire team in a cycle of failure. Sometimes, switching perspectives could help: while addressing weaknesses, one should also play to their strengths.

He said, “Captain Yang, if a strength is sharp enough, it can be just as unexpected and effective.”

Although he had stepped down from his responsibilities a bit earlier than planned, he firmly believed that his boy would bring both him and the team a pleasant surprise.

“Got it,” Yang Sa replied after a brief silence. Then he added a warning not to say anything inappropriate—and cleanly hung up.

“H-Hey, I wasn’t gonna—” Shao Zhan, with only one free hand, angrily tried to call back, but all he got was a busy tone.

“Alright, sure. Real bold now.” He stared at the dark screen. “Still wet behind the ears and already refusing to listen.”

Back at the base, Yang Sa pulled up recent training footage and revised the training plans based on each team member’s strengths. Then he waited outside Du Changcheng’s door to get the coach’s approval as soon as possible.

Tangyuan was aggressive and bold with his plays but often rushed in recklessly. Jiang Ranan was quick and nimble but prone to misjudgments due to his overly unpredictable movements. Zhuang Bai was steady and reliable, but his style was too old-fashioned and rigid—frequently missing the best timing to act.

During Shao Zhan’s time as team leader, these issues were well-covered. His individual skill was so strong it elevated the whole team. That’s not to say the other players lacked skill—it’s just that Shao Zhan’s personal ability, paired with a high level of coordination, had led them to dominate in tournament after tournament.

Now, without Shao Zhan’s protection, the team clearly felt psychologically diminished. Yang Sa knew well that the kind of trust forged in the heat of battle was not something he could easily replace.

Fortunately, the new training plans showed promise. The players’ confidence had improved, but a solid placement on the world stage still seemed like a distant dream.

Though no one said it out loud, a sense of restlessness was quietly spreading among the team.


LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 68


Chapter 68 – A World of Two


Back in those days, playing esports didn’t earn much money. From what he knew, almost all of Qu Jin’s earnings had been taken by his adoptive parents.

Training records showed that during his youth team days, Qu Jin dedicated nearly every waking moment to practice—aside from eating and sleeping. It was likely he had made some sort of agreement with his adoptive parents, willingly becoming their means of income.

Most likely, his only goal in all of this was his younger brother.

But Shao Zhan had no intention of sharing this theory with Yang Sa. After all, both Qu Jin and the couple who adopted him were no longer alive. Maybe, in the long years they’d spend together in the future, he would eventually share his thoughts—but definitely not now.

“Boss—bo-bo-boss—” Qin Chuan burst into the training room holding his phone, did a little spin, then swiftly hopped back to the doorway, peeking around the doorframe like he didn’t want to disturb the harmony of this little world of two.

“What is it, Xiao Chuanzi?” Yang Sa, feeling a bit awkward, fiddled with the computer. Shao Zhan, on the other hand, casually shot a deadly glare at the man in the doorway.

“Head office called and asked you to attend a meeting,” Qin Chuan said, holding up his phone. “They tried your mobile, but no one answered.”

Shao Zhan replied calmly, “I must’ve accidentally set it to silent.”

Inwardly, Manager Qin Chuan muttered, Your heart’s way too chill. Outwardly, he bowed with mock formality, “I respectfully send off the imperial envoy on his return journey.”

“Smartass.” Shao Zhan shot him a curse before turning to Yang Sa, who was focused on adjusting his weapon parameters. “I’m heading out. Might not be back for a few days. If anything comes up, have Xiao Chuanzi handle it.”

“Got it,” said Xiao Chuanzi in a deliberately nasal voice. “Might as well just call me a eunuch already.”

“I wouldn’t trouble the manager for small things,” Yang Sa added, still a bit shy and not used to the teasing. “I just heard the team’s recruiting a coach. I know someone from my time in Germany who’s really skilled. I think he could help the team out, given our current situation. Can I recommend him?”

“No problem. Xiao Chuanzi will handle the hiring process,” Shao Zhan said. “For training arrangements, you and Lao Du can coordinate. If anything can’t be resolved, come straight to me.”

Yang Sa nodded and shifted his attention back to the game. By now, the other players had finished eating and were returning to training. He set up a custom server with a password and sent it to the group. “Training starts in ten minutes. I’ve posted the schedule in the group chat—everyone, check it.”

In games where they had the upper hand, they only got better. In games where they were losing, morale plummeted fast.

Watching an enemy—who should’ve been eliminated—get rescued by a teammate driving a car, Fat Tangyuan looked at his GORZA rifle with tears in his eyes. “GORZA, what’s wrong with you? Just because the old beast isn’t here, you’ve gone completely soft?”

“Cut the chatter,” Yang Sa’s voice came through the team’s voice channel. “We’ve got incoming from N Harbor.”

“Roger that.” Fat Tangyuan jumped into the open-top jeep, swung by the Puzzle Building to pick up Yang Sa, and the two headed out to regroup with Jiang Ranan and Zhuang Bai.

Just moments ago they were teasing each other over voice chat—now, the moment he arrived at the factory area, Fat Tangyuan was greeted by two bright green loot boxes from his fallen teammates.

“You guys are too thoughtful. Sure, I don’t have a ton of gear over here, but no need to be so generous,” Fat Tangyuan quipped as he stopped the car. He glanced at the “remains” of his brothers, looted two boxes of ammo and a scope, then climbed up the side of the building using the scaffolding.

Jiang Ranan, who was spectating him, couldn’t be bothered with the antics of the chubby little juggler. He was carefully scanning the area for any enemies still in hiding.

Yang Sa, who had gotten out of the car early and flanked ahead, took out the enemy sniper. Acting as both point man and bait, Fat Tangyuan jumped into the building and finished off an enemy holding a secondary sniper position. Just as he was about to regroup with Yang Sa, he was ambushed by the two remaining enemy players.

By the time Yang Sa finished dealing with a new wave of enemies and rushed over, Fat Tangyuan had already ended the skirmish with a two-for-one trade.

“Sorry,” Fat Tangyuan muttered as he switched to spectate from Yang Sa’s point of view. The match wasn’t going well, and he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

Dead was dead. In the battlegrounds of PUBG, there was no room for luck, and even less for excuses. The enemy’s bullets wouldn’t pause to hear your reasoning, and the scoreboard didn’t adjust itself to your personal struggles.

Even though Yang Sa gave it everything he had, the circle shrinking was brutal. In the end, their placement stopped at the top eight.

Du Changcheng, who had been temporarily sent to the second squad as a coach, rushed upstairs to the training room, staring at the side profile of his teammate with a barely restrained scowl.

He’d left the room to give them space—hoping they’d bond quickly and build some real battle chemistry. Who would’ve thought that in the blink of an eye, it’d turn into this kind of match?

If Shao Zhan were still here, Du would’ve argued with him for a few lines and then gone straight into a full-on rant.

But unfortunately, Yang Sa was the one in charge now—calm, reserved, and clearly carrying the full weight of the team. The former captain wasn’t around, and Yang Sa had stepped up under pressure. The stress he was under was obvious.

Du Changcheng didn’t want to add to the kid’s mental burden. Just then, Qin Chuan—who had been dozing off in the single-seater couch—groggily opened his eyes.

“Lao Du?” he mumbled, instinctively tapping open a food delivery app. “You guys done over there? Want me to order some late-night snacks…”

“Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you think about!” Du Changcheng immediately launched into a tirade. “You’re the team manager! If you want to sleep, go back to your room! Always lounging around here like a slob—no wonder the kids are picking up bad habits from you!”

The innocent bystander, Qin Chuan, clutched his chest dramatically. “What now, your hemorrhoids flaring up again?” He began pounding on his hip bone in exaggerated agony. “I told you that Sichuan food we had this afternoon was gonna mess you up. Swollen again, huh?”

Noticing the curious stares from several directions, Du Changcheng immediately shielded his lower half. “What are you all looking at? Wanna lose those eyeballs, do you?!”

Watching his furious reaction, manager Qin Chuan made a calm diagnosis: “Yep. It’s the hemorrhoids again.” Then he got up to leave, wanting nothing to do with the storm of negativity and heading out for a midnight snack.

Fat Tangyuan shoved his round face in front of Du Changcheng. “Lao Du, you should ask the doctor if the second surgery comes with a discount,” he said, deliberately stressing the lighter tone on the word.

“If you don’t stop talking nonsense, I’ll give you a discount—on your limbs!” Du Changcheng smacked him on the shoulder, only for his hand to bounce off the thick layer of fat. “Go lose some weight, you little gremlin.” He turned to Qin Chuan, who had already made it to the door. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Food,” Qin Chuan replied under the dim light, eye bags puffed like pillows. “Nothing here needs me anymore.”

“We’re supposed to be doing a post-match review. How is it that it doesn’t concern you?”

Qin Chuan sat upright on the couch, holding a small notebook. He glanced sideways at Lao Du, who was gesturing grandly in front of the holographic screen, and silently wondered what he’d done to offend him.

That line of thought lasted right up until the food delivery call came in.

Whether it was due to the team’s poor coordination or just a bad streak, even Yang Sa’s individual training wasn’t going well. He wanted to get in more practice but didn’t want to seem too different from everyone else. After all, eating late-night snacks together was still a good way to bond.

During supper, he casually brought up the idea of bringing in a foreign coach with Qin Chuan and Du Changcheng. It was already part of their long-term plan anyway. Du Changcheng told him to invite the person over for a chat and then went off to discuss the next training phase with the coach of the second team.

As soon as Du walked out, Qin Chuan let out a huge sigh of relief. “You guys think Lao Du’s hemorrhoids are acting up again? He just refuses to admit it.”

“Embarrassing, probably,” Fat Tangyuan replied smoothly, chewing on a saucy braised pig’s trotter like a seasoned food critic. “We’re all men here. It’s understandable.”

“Let’s open our minds a little,” Qin Chuan said with a mischievous grin, trying to lead the conversation further.

“Maybe… it’s menopause?” Jiang Ranan mumbled uncertainly as he slurped his cold noodles.

Qin Chuan was just about to offer the kid a loving pat for the effort when he suddenly felt a chill breeze brush past from behind. “Welp, it’s getting late. I’m gonna go get some beauty sleep. You guys should wrap it up too.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll go soon,” Fat Tangyuan said, laser-focused on stacking pig knuckle bones into a mini pagoda. His chubby hands wobbled with every move.

Sensing danger, Zhuang Bai didn’t have time to stop Fat Tangyuan’s big mouth. Instead, he reached out to cover Jiang Ranan’s, just in case the kid said something unfortunate too. Then he turned his head and said quickly, “Coach, is there anything else you’d like us to do?”

“Tomorrow,” Lao Du said darkly, face black as thunder, “we’ve got a scrim scheduled. Be in the training room an hour early.”

“Hahahahaha,” Fat Tangyuan let out a nervous laugh, sucking in a breath, “something so small, Coach, you could’ve just said it in the group chat. No need to trouble yourself to come all the way here!”

Du Changcheng placed a hand on his neck and gave it a firm but not-too-hard squeeze. “I’m going through menopause—I like hanging around with you young punks.”

“Hahahahahahaha, sure, hang around, hang all you want…” Fat Tangyuan laughed with tears almost forming, raising half a pig’s trotter he’d already bitten into. “Coach, want a bite?” He blinked innocently, adding, “It’s really good.”

Du Changcheng let go of him. “Push the meeting time forward by another half hour. We’ll do physical training first.”

Fat Baby Tangyuan let out a dramatic wail and pretended to cry right there on the spot.

“Alright, enough with the theatrics.” Zhuang Bai gave his bro a light punch on the shoulder. “He’s already gone.”

One second he was crying like the sky was falling, the next Fat Tangyuan went completely silent. Still tear-streaked, he resumed gnawing on his pig trotter, grabbed the leftovers from the table, and cheerfully waddled off to bring them back to the dorm for later.

Jiang Ranan, chopsticks frozen in mid-air, stared in disbelief as his food was brazenly stolen. He chased after him, grumbling, “You greedy pig! What, you’ll die if you eat one bite less?”

“Your phones.” Zhuang Bai picked up the two cellphones left on the couch and jogged after the two clowns.

Yang Sa quietly cleaned up the trash, not daring to linger. He returned to the training room to work on the specific issues the coach had pointed out.

In the empty hallway at midnight, the sound of a keyboard echoed softly.

A low-profile BMW X5 stopped at the entrance of the base. Fifteen minutes later, Shao Zhan finally finished signing the documents and got out of the car with his laptop.

Ever since taking over the management of the company, he’d had too many social engagements and rarely returned to the base. On one hand, there was simply too much going on. On the other, he was afraid of getting sentimental. Besides, with the Asia Cup just around the corner, he didn’t want to affect the team’s morale.

It just so happened that tonight’s dinner meeting was at a hotel near the base, and since it was already late, he made a last-minute decision to stay over.

What he didn’t expect was that not only was Uncle Zhou still awake, but Bage (the parrot) was also up. Apparently, the bird had lost a fight with a stray cat nearby and was feeling pretty miserable.

Shao Zhan gently patted Bage, who was curled up in Uncle Zhou’s arms, and comforted it:
“Lost the fight, huh? That’s okay. Next time, we’ll have your chubby brother get payback for you.”