Chapter 14 – Want To Be Praised
Official Livestream Chat:
[“What’s happening??? He just called him his husband! Are Tan Shen and this boy a couple?”]
[“No, no, no. Talk is just playing around. You can check out the meme guide, it explains everything.”]
[“Hahaha, Talk, stop teasing! Song’s about to crawl under the chair!”]
[“Ahhhhh!!! I’m shipping this CP forever!!!”]
[“This pair is so cute!!! There’s a ‘Talk & Song CP Beginner’s Guide’ on Bilibili, sisters, go search it now!”]
As Tan Mo approached the VIP entrance, the WLG team was already waiting for him.
Xiao Pai and Hu Fu started cheering, making caveman-like sounds: “Oooh oooh oooh oooh~.”
“Not bad, Tan Shen! You nailed the show! I heard the official livestream practically crashed because of you!” Hu Fu was thrilled, clearly entertained. “The organizers must be over the moon, right?”
Tan Mo lowered his gaze, casually wrapping the tie he’d taken off around his wrist. “Not sure if they’re happy, but they did dock my pay.”
“Serves you right for messing around at the end!” Yu Haotian clutched his chest dramatically. “There goes three thousand yuan!”
“Totally worth it! I laughed so hard, I almost died!” Xiao Pai cackled like a goose. “You didn’t see it—White Hair’s face was as red as a monkey’s butt! He barely dared to breathe! If the staff hadn’t taken him backstage to collect his prize, I swear he would’ve been the first person in history to hold his breath until he died!”
Tan Mo looked up. “He went backstage?”
“Yeah.” Xiao Pai stood on tiptoes, glancing toward the inner hall. “He’s still not out, moving so slow. But if he dares come out now, I’ll laugh him to death! Hiahia!”
“Alright, let’s not block the way here,” The coach clapped his hands to gather the team. “If there’s anything to discuss, we’ll do it on the bus.”
Upon hearing this, everyone started heading towards the exit, but Tan Mo remained where he was.
“Huh?” Xiao Pai turned back. “Brother, why aren’t you coming?”
Tan Mo glanced at his watch and said, “I’m waiting for Elan.”
“Ah, I totally forgot about that.” The coach smacked his forehead, happy to see Tan Mo being so considerate. “Thanks for taking care of it. Bring him over when you’re done.”
Tan Mo leaned casually against the wall and waved them off. “You guys go ahead.”
Meanwhile, Sang Ye was leaving the backstage area, carrying the team jacket identical to Talk’s.
When he had collected the prize earlier, the lady who helped register him had a knowing, auntie-like smile on her face that made him wish he could disappear. If he hadn’t really wanted the jacket, he would have left immediately.
The jacket was exactly the same as the one Talk wore during matches, in size XXXL—the largest available. Sang Ye, who was 176 cm tall and normally wore an XL, found the jacket too big to wear properly.
As he walked, his hand unconsciously traced the embroidered logo on the chest, his fingers feeling out the texture of the stitching that spelled [Talk].
When he exited the inner hall and looked up, he saw a man standing at the end of the corridor.
Dressed in a suit, the man had a tall, lean figure. His tie was loosened and two shirt buttons were undone, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone.
Sang Ye abruptly halted, rooted to the spot, unsure whether to move forward or retreat. His neck began to flush, and soon his whole face turned red.
The thought that Talk not only remembered him but also casually joked about being his “husband” made Sang Ye feel like he was going to combust on the spot.
Still, despite everything, during their brief interactions today, Talk had been very friendly and had even joked with him at the end, which indicated that he didn’t dislike him.
Maybe, just maybe, he had only rejected the friend request because he had forgotten about their agreement…
Sang Ye steadied himself, glancing around to make sure no one else was in the VIP hallway. Talk was also alone.
He nervously inched forward, his heart racing, preparing to officially introduce himself to his idol.
‘Hi, I’m Song… the Song from Singing. I really like you…’
“Brother!”
A loud shout echoed from afar.
Sang Ye immediately panicked, ducking behind a nearby door.
Tan Mo looked up to see Xiao Pai and Hu Fu approaching, grinning mischievously, looking like they were up to no good.
His first instinct was to glance toward the inner hallway.
‘Still, no one had come out.’
Tan Mo pressed his lips together, shifted his posture, and asked, “Why did you come back?”
“The bus hasn’t arrived yet. We’d just be waiting outside,” Xiao Pai chuckled. “So we thought we’d keep you company.”
Hu Fu waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a sly grin spreading across his face. “We also have something to tell you.”
Tan Mo gave a neutral “Mm” in response.
Hu Fu nudged Xiao Pai. “You tell him.”
Xiao Pai nudged back. “No, you tell him.”
“You tell him.”
“You tell him.”
“…”
Sang Ye, hiding behind the door, was speechless. Irritated, he furrowed his brow.
Are they going to say it or not?
If not, hurry up and leave already!
“Fine, I’ll say it.” Xiao Pai compromised. “It’s just that you complimented E Lan a few times before the match, and during the game, the white-haired streamer fixated on him and took a full eight pages of notes!”
“!”
Sang Ye went from shock to embarrassment to collapse in just one second, wishing he could rush out and cover Xiao Pai’s mouth.
Stop talking!!!
Tan Mo was still asking, “Really?”
Sang Ye was so embarrassed that he squatted down behind the door and covered his burning face.
“I saw it too.” Hu Fu shook his head with a “tsk tsk,” saying, “It’s obvious; you compliment someone, and the fan is unhappy.”
“Wife fans need compliments too~” Xiao Pai said in a high-pitched voice, continuously twisting and playfully hitting Hu Fu on the shoulder, “Tan Mo is being naughty, complimenting others but not his wife fans~”
Hu Fu laughed so hard that his body shook: “You’re going to make me lose my New Year’s dinner.”
Sang Ye gritted his teeth and moved his hands up to cover his ears.
He hated Xiao Pai so much.
“Hey! Someone’s here.” Hu Fu was the first to notice the dark-haired boy coming out of the staff entrance and gave a heads-up.
Elan maintained his usual expressionless face, only giving Tan Mo a barely noticeable nod when he saw him.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Xiao Pai said. “The bus should be here by now.”
The group headed outside.
Tan Mo dragged his feet, moving the slowest.
Before leaving, he glanced one last time at the empty exit of the inner hall, lowering his eyes with a hint of disappointment.
…
After returning to the WLG base, members of the first and second teams found a place to gather for dinner
The coach closed the conference room door and shared his thoughts on Elan’s performance in the Blue Whale tournament, his words carrying a tone of satisfaction.
Tan Mo sat casually in his chair, not saying a word.
It wasn’t until the coach finished speaking that he grabbed the pen standing upright in front of him, looked up, and said, “I have no issues with Elan. Has the invitation been sent to Song?”
“It’s being drafted, it’s being drafted. You’re really concerned about this.” Yu Haotian tapped away at his laptop. “If he accepts the trial, he’ll play a solo ranked match with Elan.”
“But to be honest, I rewatched Song’s match against Lu Qikai. He told Lu Qikai that he wasn’t considering going pro,” the coach expressed some concern. “I’m wondering if it’s really necessary to send him an invitation.”
The pen stood on the table, but this time it only balanced for three seconds before toppling over.
“We’ll send it,” Tan Mo said lightly, shifting his gaze away. “Whether he comes or not is his decision.”
…
It was around 7 PM.
Sang Ye had been watching matches all afternoon and was feeling hungry, so he decided to grab some oden at a convenience store while waiting for Jiang Bobai to pick him up.
He ate skewers while scrolling through a forum.
With just a casual swipe, he came across a post about Elan.
[They say he’s a foreign recruit, but anyone with eyes can see he’s on trial. With Elan’s performance tonight, just waiting for WLG’s official announcement now.]
[The question is, where do they place Elan? His skill level is definitely wasted on the second team, but there’s no spot in the first team.]
[There’s still a substitute position in the first team! Plus, WLG’s rotation system is very fair—whoever performs well gets to play. Shine was promoted directly from the second team back then.]
Sang Yan licked the sauce off his lips, feeling a mix of melancholy and envy.
If he could get the same trial opportunity as Elan, he was confident he could perform even better.
Unfortunately, that opportunity hadn’t come.
WLG had its own set of selection criteria. They didn’t hold open tryouts or accept resumes. The only option for getting in was to wait.
When the guild signed him, they had promised to recommend him internally to WLG, but Sang Yan found out after arriving that it was a lie.
He lowered his long lashes, feeling an expanding sense of dejection. He picked up another konjac skewer, and just then, his phone vibrated.
He glanced at it casually, and a notification from NetEase email popped up at the top of the screen.
The subject line of the email read:
[Trial Invitation—]