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Chapter 38 – From now on
In the cramped, narrow compartment, Sang Ye’s hands stiffened in midair. After a moment of confusion, he finally felt the tight, painful grip from his back and waist. But that wasn’t why he couldn’t breathe—it was because his heart was being mercilessly wrenched.
Sang Ye didn’t know what Tan Mo had been through, but whatever it was, it must have carried an unbearable weight of pain that he couldn’t fully comprehend. So much so that even now, Tan Mo exuded such an intense aura of despair.
Sang Ye’s eyes quivered, tears welling up.
He didn’t know what to do. He felt anxious and powerless, but more than anything, he felt deep sorrow and compassion.
What should I do?
How can I save you?
How can I keep fear and sorrow away from you?
Outside, the sound of footsteps and casual chatter echoed through the hallway, like the lively noise after a final exam. There was a sense of carefree joy. Soon, groups of people entered the restroom, and the noise broke through the thin barrier, drawing closer.
The arms around his back tightened a little.
Tan Mo buried his face in Sang Ye’s collar, pressing hard, trying to muffle the sound of his trembling sobs.
Now Sang Ye really found it hard to breathe, but he didn’t mind. His hands hovered uncertainly in the air for a moment before finally resting on Tan Mo’s back. One arm awkwardly wrapped around the man, while the other gently covered the back of his head.
“D*mn, that last hit drained my energy—I couldn’t dodge it!”
“Are we heading straight back after this match?”
“If I don’t make it to the finals, the coach will kill me…”
Sang Ye glanced at the door and furrowed his brows slightly. His slender, pale fingers threaded through Tan Mo’s clean-cut hair, sliding to his ears, and covered them.
Tan Mo’s breath hitched for a moment, then slowly, bit by bit, his body began to relax.
The surroundings grew quiet. He could smell the faint, dry fragrance from the fibers of the boy’s clothes, mingled with a subtle, sweet milky scent on his skin. Wrapped in the unique scent that belonged to Sang Ye, Tan Mo felt an unprecedented sense of warmth and safety. The cold chill behind him was driven away, and the lingering dark images in his mind gradually faded.
Before long, Tan Mo’s sobs softened, and his breathing began to steady, though his arms still clung tightly to Sang Ye, unwilling to let go or lift his head from Sang Ye’s embrace.
After a while, someone outside noticed the innermost stall had been closed for some time. Curious, they approached and knocked on the door.
The man in Sang Ye’s arms trembled, a reaction Sang Ye could feel clearly.
He pressed his hands harder, covering Tan Mo’s ears even more tightly, feeling irritated and angry at the interruption.
The person outside didn’t leave, knocking again. “Is someone in there?”
Sang Ye turned his head and snapped, “Get lost!”
The young man outside recoiled half a step, annoyed. “What the…”
A companion recognized the voice and quickly pulled him back, whispering, “Don’t bother. That’s WLG in there… You don’t want to mess with him.”
Even that name wasn’t uttered in full.
People came and went from the restroom, but eventually, it quieted down again.
In the silence, Sang Ye noticed Tan Mo’s ears peeking out from the crook of his arm, so close he could see the fine, translucent hairs on them.
So soft…
He was about to lower his head to get a closer look when the arms around his waist loosened.
In that instant, Sang Ye snapped out of his daze, releasing Tan Mo even faster, feeling slightly flustered.
Tan Mo, now fully relaxed, leaned back against the partition. His pale, damp face was flushed unnaturally, as if the color had been forced out. He looked drained, weary, and almost sickly.
He blinked, lifted his eyes, and asked, “Did I scare you?”
Sang Ye shook his head. “No.”
Tan Mo pointed under his own eye, teasing him with a smile, “You’re about to cry.”
Sang Ye immediately lowered his head to hide his expression and reached for the nearby roll of toilet paper.
Tan Mo, in no rush, took out a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed one to him.
Sang Ye’s hand froze mid-reach, then released as he accepted the scented tissue, muttering, “Thanks…”
‘Tan Mo is the kind of guy who always carries tissues with him, unlike me’ Sang Ye thought.
“I should be the one thanking you.”
As Sang Ye wiped his face haphazardly, Tan Mo leaned in and pinched his cheek.
The affectionate gesture made Sang Ye freeze in discomfort, then he frowned slightly, feeling as if something deep inside him had crumbled.
Just a moment ago, he hadn’t thought much of it, but now, reflecting on it made him uneasy. He sniffled, and unable to resist, grabbed the front of Tan Mo’s jacket. His voice was laced with frustration and hurt as he finally voiced his long-standing confusion: “What’s wrong with you? I don’t know anything…”
Tan Mo saw that his eyes had reddened again, with traces of moisture clinging to his fluttering eyelashes, and even the tip of his nose was tinged with pink. His worried expression was so moving, and his delicate face looked both pitiful and adorable.
Tan Mo’s heart softened. He gently ruffled the boy’s hair. Words that had once been so hard to say now came out without burden, perhaps only because it was Sang Ye. “PTSD.”
Sang Ye blinked, but his brow furrowed even more, his fingers twisting the fabric of Tan Mo’s jacket. “I don’t understand…”
“It’s a condition where people experience flashbacks after trauma,” Tan Mo explained, glancing down at Sang Ye’s slender fingers that were nervously crumpling his clothes, a smile flickering in his eyes. “When I was little, someone shot me with a handgun. Later, when I remembered the details, similar situations would trigger flashbacks.”
Tan Mo said it lightly, but Sang Ye’s heart trembled as he listened.
Things were more dangerous than he had thought.
Tan Mo loosened one side of his collar: “This position.”
Sang Ye followed his movements and saw a glaring red scar on the smooth and cold white skin at the junction of Tan Mo’s shoulder and neck, dragging a flame-like tail.
Sang Ye took a small breath.
Tan Mo was afraid that he would not be able to hold back his tears again, and did not want to scare the child, so he pulled his collar back up.
But Sang Ye came closer at this time, opened his collar again, put his index finger on the wound and rubbed it, frowning and muttering: “It hurts so much…”
But it seemed to be a sensitive spot, Tan Mo’s angular jawline suddenly tightened, and the side of his slender and straight neck turned light red. He looked at Sang Ye and hesitated for a moment, then looked away.
Until he couldn’t stand being touched, he touched Sang Ye’s wrist and gently blocked it, whispering: “Let’s go, Yu Haotian and the others should be worried… I’m fine now.”
“Oh, okay.” Sang Ye pressed his lips together, his restless index finger curling slightly before clenching into his palm. When he looked up, he noticed Tan Mo hadn’t moved.
—Tan Mo was staring at him.
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat under that intense gaze, and it suddenly dawned on him that the atmosphere felt… off.
He was still kneeling there, his hands awkwardly rubbing against his pants. Thinking back to the intimate moments they’d just shared, he realized he hadn’t noticed at the time, but now, in the calm aftermath, a wave of delayed embarrassment washed over him like a flood.
His face turned visibly red, and his dark eyes flickered with shyness. Yet, he stubbornly held Tan Mo’s gaze, pretending everything was fine and refusing to look away.
But the space was too small, and the thick, unspoken tension between them grew heavier, wrapping around them. Sang Ye’s thoughts briefly wandered, and his gaze quickly flicked to Tan Mo’s pale lips before darting away. His hands clenched his pants, and his heartbeat grew louder and faster.
‘Is Tan Mo waiting for something?‘ If this continued, something was bound to happen…
Sang Ye wasn’t sure if he was resisting or anticipating it—he only knew his brain felt like it was turning to mush.
Tan Mo cleared his throat, leaned in slightly, and spoke in a low, husky voice, “Song.”
A shiver ran down Sang Ye’s back as he instinctively straightened up, his eyes bright. “Yes?”
Tan Mo said, “You’re kneeling on my shoe.”
Sang Ye’s scalp tingled this time. “…Oh, right.”
Tan Mo left the stall and washed his face at the sink outside.
He shook the water droplets from his hands, and when he looked up, he saw Sang Ye in the corner, scratching the wall.
Tan Mo: “……..”
…
Halftime was longer than usual.
Back in the break room, Yu Haotian was about to head out to look for someone, clearly restless.
As they bumped into each other at the door, Yu Haotian noticed Tan Mo’s pale face, and his expression darkened. “Did you just…”
Seeing the room full of people, he cut himself off midway, his sharp eyes narrowing at Tan Mo.
Tan Mo brushed past him with a bland expression. “I’m fine.”
“Come outside with me,” Yu Haotian said, pulling the door open.
But Tan Mo casually sat down on the sofa. “Let me rest for a bit.”
Seeing that their captain was acting as usual, both Xiao Pai and Hu Fu finally relaxed.
Hu Fu sighed in relief, “You scared me to death earlier. When you left in the middle of the match, it freaked me out.”
This comment brought Yu Haotian’s vigilance back. “Why did your heart rate hit 160 in the middle of the game?”
Tan Mo looked at Yu Haotian for a few seconds, then shifted his gaze to Sang Ye. “Ask him.”
Sang Ye, who had just closed the door and was suddenly called out, froze on the spot. “…?”
“What’s Song got to do with it?” Yu Haotian asked, puzzled.
Sang Ye waved his hand, signaling that he hadn’t done anything.
“Flawless marksmanship. One shot, one kill,” Tan Mo said with a smirk. “Playing that well, who wouldn’t have their heart racing?”
“…”
Sang Ye’s face flushed red.
It was impossible to even get mad at being blamed like that.
“C’mon!” Hu Fu laughed as he rolled off to the side.
“Give me a break!” Xiao Pai groaned dramatically, pleading loudly, “Please, brother, spare me!”
Without any evidence to back up his suspicions, Yu Haotian could only let it go for now.
But Sang Ye knew what was really going on, and the closer it got to the start of the second half, the more nervous he became.
As they were about to go back on the field, Sang Ye tugged on Tan Mo’s sleeve at the entrance.
Tan Mo stopped in his tracks, turning to look back at Sang Ye, raising his eyebrows slightly, as if asking what was the matter.
But Sang Ye didn’t speak, nor did he let go of his sleeve. He just stared at Tan Mo with his bright, lively eyes.
Tan Mo licked the corner of his lips, took a step closer, glanced at the dark entrance to the stage passage, and lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear. “One day, I’ll return to the arena. So, one day, I’ll have to overcome this. If I can’t today, then next time… I’m not afraid of disappointing you. I did think about giving up before…”
Suddenly, he lowered his eyes and didn’t continue.
Sang Ye felt warmth spread in his chest. He knew that Tan Mo possessed an indomitable spirit, and it was this very spirit that had been inspiring him all along.
Sang Ye waited, hoping Tan Mo would say more.
Tan Mo glanced at his wrist, then gently took hold of Sang Ye’s hand, which was clutching his sleeve. “Let’s go. I have to give it a try.”
…
By the middle of the sixth round, WLG found themselves once again in a three-way standoff.
When the broadcast showed the players’ video windows, a small box below each player displayed their heart rate, marked by a red heart and fluctuating numbers.
Yu Haotian noticed that Tan Mo’s heart rate monitor was once again spiking out of control.
Biting his thumb, his tension rose with each jump in the numbers. He mumbled useless instructions as if they could reach Tan Mo from afar, “Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths…”
On the battlefield, Tan Mo used the brief moment of bandaging to regulate his breathing, trying to ward off the waves of dizziness darkening his vision.
The words of the team doctor echoed in his mind.
—“Breathe deeply, stay calm, focus your mind on the task at hand.”
A grenade rolled to the side. Tan Mo leaped over the cover, immediately locking onto an enemy and firing. A split second later, a deafening explosion erupted in his headset.
134.
148.
151.
Yu Haotian pounded his thigh: “Tan Mo, if you go up any more, I will call an ambulance with a stretcher waiting for you next to the stage.”
——“Keep reminding yourself of the current situation and consolidate your confidence.”
Tan Mo’s forehead was already covered with a layer of cold sweat, his ears were buzzing, his hands were trembling, and he was trying hard to kill the last enemy.
When the scene in front of him was about to be swallowed by the forest, Sang Ye’s voice seeped in: “There are footsteps above your head in the south, give me cover… Talk, I’m on it now… Talk?”
——“Find your safe island, anchor the certainty in uncertainty, and use it to distinguish illusion from reality.”
159.
152.
143.
135.
Yu Haotian’s eyes lit up: “It’s done!”
“Here.” Tan Mo set up a heavy machine gun behind the wall and said to Sang Ye, “Go, leave this to me.”
Sang Ye no longer had any concerns, and he went forward with his gun to smash the last team.
When the chicken-eating prompt popped up, the whole audience applauded.
In the standings, WLG ranked first.
Xiao Pai and Hu Fu breathed a sigh of relief at the same time, took off their headphones, and clapped their hands in the air.
The noise at the scene was so loud that it almost drowned out the conversation between the two of them.
Sang Ye was about to take off his headphones when a voice suddenly rang out in the team channel.
——”Sang Ye.”
“…”
It was not “Song” or “little friend”, but a name that could not be formal anymore, and it seemed too unfamiliar when spoken by Tan Mo.
Sang Ye looked at the audience seats in front of him with floating figures, and suddenly felt something unusual, and blinked: “Hmm?”
Tan Mo closed the game interface, and without shifting his gaze, he slowly spoke:
“From now on, can you also sit next to me?”