Chapter 41 – Wife
After the third week of the weekly finals, WLG’s total points ranked just at fifth place. They had been catching up fast, but there was still a significant gap between them and the top three. Ahead of them were not only veteran teams like NSN, but also a rising dark horse this season—Catch22.
The coach displayed information about the team on the projector.
Tan Mo casually explained to Sang Ye, “It’s named after the novel by Joseph Heller. Later, it became synonymous with an insurmountable obstacle.”
Sang Ye glanced up. Tan Mo was still looking straight ahead, though he had turned slightly closer as he spoke. The projection’s light outlined sharp features on his brows and nose, and Sang Ye could even see his Adam’s apple subtly moving with his words.
Sang Ye hurriedly averted his gaze, nodding, with the tips of his ears turning red. “I… I wouldn’t have known if you didn’t tell me.”
Sang Ye had been following Tan Mo since he was thirteen or fourteen. Back then, Tan Mo was still abroad, balancing his studies while being an online game content creator. Part of the reason Sang Ye became his fan was because of Tan Mo’s “top student” aura, which fascinated Sang Ye, who struggled academically.
Now, being taught directly by his idol, Sang Ye felt as though he was basking in a holy glow of knowledge. It was like a small feather was tickling his heart.
“Hey! Bai Mao!” Xiao Pai called from the other side.
With a “pop,” that halo vanished.
Sang Ye’s expression shifted to one of mild annoyance as he turned his face with a two-faced look. “What?”
Xiao Pai propped his head on his hand, teasingly, “Do you know what WLG stands for?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Say it.” Xiao Pai watched him eagerly.
Sang Ye lifted his chin slightly, “It’s… We… We’re… We’re Dead Last…”
Xiao Pai covered his mouth, eyes twinkling with mischievous glee.
Sang Ye pursed his lips, furrowing his brows, and refused to speak any further.
On his first day at technical school, the teacher pointed to “ABCD” on the blackboard and asked him to read it.
He confidently blurted out, “Ah, Bo, Tz, Duh.”
The teacher looked at him with a sorrowful expression for two seconds, shook their head, and said, “This is an English class.”
Amidst the laughter of the entire class, Sang Ye realized that English would be his lifelong nemesis.
“Why aren’t you saying anything now?” Xiao Pai teased him mockingly, “What’s that ‘We’re Dead Last’ thing?”
Sang Ye turned his head to look at the notebook in front of him, refusing to acknowledge him.
A packet of tissues hit Xiao Pai’s head.
“Ouch!” Xiao Pai rubbed his head and gave Tan Mo a resentful glance.
It didn’t hurt, but it did feel a bit insulting.
“Wasteland Lord Gaming,” Tan Mo said clearly and precisely, explaining to Sang Ye, “No need to explain ‘Gaming,’ it refers to the esports club. ‘Wasteland Lord’ means a lord of the wasteland, a god in ancient Greek mythology who mastered archery.”
“I know, I know!”
As a hardcore fan, how could Sang Ye not know?
Eager to prove he wasn’t completely clueless, he quickly uncapped his pen, bowed his head, and scribbled in his notebook, “I can’t say it, but I can write it.”
After writing, Sang Ye eagerly held out his notebook to Tan Mo like he was showing off a treasure, “Look!”
Tan Mo took the notebook and glanced at it. The twisted handwriting looked like a bunch of worms wriggling across the page.
[Westland Nord Geming]
Tan Mo bit his lower lip, trying to hold back his expression.
Then he looked at Sang Ye, whose eyes were shining with pride, his small face full of uncontainable satisfaction.
Tan Mo couldn’t resist and reached out to ruffle his fluffy white hair, nodding slightly, “Mm, you definitely can.”
Sang Ye was so happy he was practically floating. He turned toward Xiao Pai, gritting his teeth as he emphasized his words with a mock fierce expression, “I can!”
Seeing his triumphant look, Xiao Pai was not impressed and reached out, “Let me see.”
But Tan Mo quickly closed the notebook, putting it away. “Coach is watching.”
The coach was standing in front of the projector, speaking:
“We’re currently in the top eight, so half of our goal for the summer tournament is completed. But just to be safe, let’s familiarize ourselves with the strong teams. We don’t need to talk about NSN since we’ve faced them so many times that everyone knows their tactics, but 22 is a team with real potential. They could be strong contenders for the championship.”
“Their captain is [Fool], who debuted the same year as Tan Mo. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the right opportunities and was stuck in small teams for two years. But now he’s back on the PCL stage and scored eight kills in the first game of the day. He’s in great shape.”
“They also have a new member, called Xingxing. He’s about the same age as Song, Elan, and Pai, and he’s pretty skilled with a sniper. Hey, Hu Fu, didn’t he snipe you a few times?”
Hu Fu shrank his neck a little and made a fist gesture toward the photo projected on the screen. “New talents emerge with each generation, and the younger ones always surpass the older. He’s pretty impressive.”
Sang Ye studied the photo. The player named Xingxing had pink hair and looked a bit shy in front of the camera, his brows and eyes slightly smiling—he seemed like an introverted type.
After a moment, Sang Ye slightly turned his head and asked Xiao Pai, “How old are you?”
“Nineteen, but technically eighteen. I’m probably just a few months older than you. Why?” Xiao Pai replied naturally, then noticed the strange expression on Sang Ye’s face and chuckled. “Oh, are you impressed by my mature aura? I started as a youth trainee very early, even before PUBG came out. By the time the age restriction for minors was introduced, I had just turned eighteen, so having more competition experience is only natural.”
Sang Ye shook his head and looked away, “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“What doesn’t seem like it?”
“I always thought you were the same age as Hu Fu.”
Hu Fu was twenty-three.
“…………”
Xiao Pai went silent, forcing a stiff smile.
That level of insult was too much.
He might as well have been kicked out of the post-2000 generation entirely.
….
The coach’s intuition was right. At the end of the final day of the four-week regular season, WLG ranked second.
First place went to catch22.
After the match that day, the players left their glass booths and exchanged handshakes as a show of sportsmanship.
Fool, the captain, was a very thin man—the kind of thin that anyone would notice. His dark circles were so prominent they had become his trademark.
If Sang Ye had an air of detached indifference, this man simply seemed tired and listless.
He brought his new team members over to WLG’s side and shook hands with Tan Mo.
The two seemed quite familiar with each other. Tan Mo bumped shoulders with Fool, gave him a pat on the back, and congratulated him.
Sang Ye shifted his gaze away, only to notice the pink-haired player watching him.
Caught staring, the pink-haired player hurriedly lowered his head. After a moment, like a robot, he extended his hand, “Hello, my name is Xingxing, ID: [Aster].”
Sang Ye glanced at the outstretched hand, gave it a quick pat, and simply responded, “Song.”
After the regular season ended, the players who made it to the top sixteen were preparing for the playoffs. But before that, there was a day dedicated to the All-Star game.
The All-Star game was mostly for fun, a rare chance for professional players to let loose, with more varied and entertaining gameplay.
What made it even more exciting was that all the teams would be shuffled and randomly reorganized. That meant teammates could become opponents, and enemies could become allies—a big team-building event for the PCL teams.
Upon hearing about the random team assignments, Sang Ye got extremely anxious and subtly asked Xiao Pai, “Is there a chance you could end up with your own teammates?”
Xiao Pai replied, “Yeah, it’s possible! Last year in the All-Star game, I ended up on the same team as my brother. We even won eight thousand yuan in prize money.”
Sang Ye’s eyes lit up, “How can I make sure I’m on the same team?”
Xiao Pai pondered seriously and said, “Well, it depends.”
Sang Ye asked, “Depends on what?”
Xiao Pai answered, “Depends on luck.”
“………”
Sang Ye was so frustrated that he downed six cups of yogurt after dinner that day.
If he could, he’d be willing to spend eight thousand yuan to bribe the organizers to rig the teams, so he could be placed with Talk, or buy a spot from whoever ended up on Talk’s team.
However, this wasn’t something money could solve, and Sang Ye had no choice but to wait for the team assignments.
Though the All-Star game was still five days away, the coach didn’t let them return home, in order to maximize training time.
When Sang Ye heard the news, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
After dinner, while waiting for the training session to start, he lay in front of his computer and flipped through the photos on his phone.
Every picture was of a little cream-colored golden retriever.
There were pictures of it smiling, running wildly, frowning at the rain, and even stealing potato chips.
—“How much do you feed it in private?”
A voice suddenly spoke from behind him, startling Sang Ye into sitting up straight. He turned around to see who it was.
It was Tan Mo.
Tan Mo pulled out his chair and sat down, looking at him: “Hmm?”
Sang Ye felt guilty and stuttered: “Just… a few times, I saw it looked so pitiful, I couldn’t help it…”
Xiao Pai heard it and knew that he was talking about Tan Chunshan, turned his head and smiled at Sang Ye with a “hiahia!” grin.
You’re done, Bai Mao!
Forget potato chips, my brother is afraid that his baby son will lose hair, so he can’t touch any salt or oil!
Tan Mo then asked: “Do you miss it?”
Sang Ye nodded. “Mm.”
“………….” The atmosphere was unexpectedly peaceful. Xiao Pai leaned over and, in a fawning manner, reminded Tan Mo, “Hey, brother, remember that time last year when I fed Chunshan some buns, and you scolded me really badly?”
Before Xiao Pai could finish, Tan Mo let out a long “Hissss—,” frowning. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Why bring it up now? Has it been three days since I last yelled at you or something?”
Xiao Pai shut his mouth, his attempt to ingratiate himself backfiring, and he turned back to play his game.
Fine, I’ll leave then.
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, a small smirk just beginning to form, but he quickly suppressed it when Tan Mo turned back around.
“I’m going to video call Aunt Lu tonight,” Tan Mo said. “Want to come to my room?”
Aunt Lu was the housekeeper at the base. When Tan Mo went out of town, he would leave Chunshan, his dog, in Aunt Lu’s care.
Sang Ye’s heart fluttered—not just because Talk had invited him to join the video call, but also because it meant he’d get to go to Talk’s room.
“Sure…”
“I’m Chunshan’s uncle too! And I’ve never bought him any dog food!” Xiao Pai protested loudly, clearly feeling left out. “This is unfair, bro. Why exclude me from the video call?”
Sang Ye immediately shot a look at Xiao Pai, almost stomping his feet in frustration, barely managing to keep from showing “Don’t come!” on his face.
At that moment, Hu Fu joined in, turning around in his gaming chair and adding, “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Chunshan. I miss him—count me in too.”
Tan Mo, resigned, turned to his computer. “Fine, I’ll start the video call now.”
Sang Ye instantly deflated, slumping face-down on the table, radiating an aura of gloom.
But soon enough, his frustration was cured by the sight of the little golden retriever.
As soon as the video call started, the golden retriever, hearing Tan Mo’s voice, began whimpering and wagging its tail furiously, spinning in circles in excitement.
Tan Mo moved over to make some space and gestured for Sang Ye to come closer.
Sang Ye scooted his chair forward, faced the computer screen, and tried calling softly, “Chunshan.”
The little golden retriever, curled up like a donut, froze for a second, its brows raised, and then whimpered even more urgently. Standing on its hind legs, it placed its front paws on Aunt Lu’s arm, glancing at the camera and then back at Aunt Lu, as if begging her to pull the person out of the phone.
Sang Ye felt his heart melt. He used to find the dog’s clinginess annoying, but after just a month together, he was surprised by how much he missed it.
Since Aunt Lu couldn’t pull anyone from the phone, Tan Chunshan tried to nudge the camera with its creamy-white head, as if attempting to dive through the screen.
Watching this, Sang Ye couldn’t help but smile, his eyes curving slightly.
Through the video call screen, Tan Mo caught a glimpse of the boy’s smiling eyes, his naturally beautiful face softened by an unusual warmth, something different than his usual innocence.
Tan Mo paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly to look beside him.
Just then—
Hu Fu leaned toward Tan Mo with a playful “flying mountain strike,” while Xiao Pai pounced toward Sang Ye, both crowding into the narrow frame, enthusiastically greeting the screen. “Hi! Hi! Hi! Chunshan! Miss me?”
Sang Ye and Tan Mo, squeezed into the middle, bumped shoulders, their faces nearly brushing.
They glanced at each other, heads tilted.
Sang Ye’s eyes quivered slightly, and, realizing what happened, he looked down, a bit uncomfortable.
With Xiao Pai still pressing against him, he couldn’t move away.
At such close proximity, that familiar, clean, slightly damp, and icy scent from Tan Mo again unsettled him.
Tan Mo, on his end, was just as crowded with Hu Fu pressed against him, probably in an even worse position.
Meanwhile, Xiao Pai and Hu Fu continued chatting with the golden retriever, calling it “precious,” “miss you,” “love you,” with as much sentiment as they could muster.
At that moment, Tan Mo wrapped an arm around Sang Ye’s shoulder, managing to free up some more space in the cramped area.
Sang Ye’s breath hitched, and as he looked up, he saw Tan Mo’s expression remained calm, focused on the video call.
Perfectly natural.
Sang Ye relaxed a little and continued watching the computer.
Aunt Lu was reporting on how the little golden retriever had been doing recently.
Tan Chunshan, having calmed down from his initial excitement, lay on the floor. His beady eyes gazed out at the night beyond the window. He raised his head and sniffed the air before turning his eyes back to the phone.
That earnest yet pitiful look seemed to say, “I’ve watched the sunset 20 times already, when are you coming back?”
Sang Ye felt a wave of affection and immediately took out his phone, opened Taobao, and searched for dog food cans.
Now he finally understood why so many people, even if they don’t buy meat for themselves, still get little treats for their cats and dogs.
Because these little creatures just make you want to spoil them!
…
Two days later, the official team groupings were announced.
Yu Haotian tossed the document into the group chat.
At that time, Sang Ye hadn’t woken up yet. The noise disturbed him, and after rubbing his eyes, he checked the group chat messages. The next second, he shot upright in bed like a mummy.
His heart was racing, and the cool air from the AC made his fingers feel cold as he anxiously opened the PDF file.
All the players had been grouped into teams of four. Sang Ye’s hand shook as he scrolled down, swallowing nervously, searching for his and Talk’s names.
When he reached the tenth row, he saw Tan Mo’s ID. His teammates were Fool, Shine, and someone named XXY, but his own name wasn’t there.
Sang Ye’s mind buzzed, his finger mechanically swiping further down.
Then, just one row below, he found himself. His teammates were Aster from Catch22, and the other two were both from XXY.
Sang Ye collapsed back onto the bed.
It was over.
Xiao Pai, having been woken by the noise, raised his head and asked, “What’s wrong, Bai Mao?”
Sang Ye lay there for a moment, then flipped onto his side, his long legs kicking the blanket. He furrowed his brow, his face flushing as he bit into the corner of the blanket.
“Is there really no way to bribe them?”
“…”
Xiao Pai, still half-asleep, just stared at him, confused. He had no idea what Sang Ye was talking about.
When Xiao Bai Mao blushed, it was no wonder so many people online kept calling him adorable and saying they wanted to date him.
That morning, Sang Ye was added to the group chat by his new teammates.
Aster: [Hello everyone~.jpg]
Not a Thing: [Hello, hello! Hi everyone, it’s an honor to be on a team with you.]
Miracle Nikki: [Wow, it’s Song! I got a bit traumatized from our first scrimmage when you wiped the floor with us, haha. I’m pretty excited to be teammates.]
Sang Ye had met Aster before. The others, one named Not a Thing and the other Miracle, were both from XXY. He’d only interacted with them in the game.
Feeling unenthusiastic, Sang Ye casually sent a neutral emoji to the group, not showing much emotion.
Miracle Nikki: [Who’s going to be team captain this time? How about Song? You’ve gotten MVP so many times. Not a Thing and I both think it’d be fitting. What do you think, Aster?]
Aster: [No problem at all~.jpg]
Miracle Nikki: [What about you, Song?]
S.: [Whatever.]
Not a Thing: [Song doesn’t seem very enthusiastic… [wiping sweat emoji] Are you disappointed to be on a team with us?]
Sang Ye took a deep breath.
It’s just that, without Talk, everything felt empty.
S.: [Not really.]
[“S.” retracted a message]
S.: [Not at all~]
Miracle Nikki: [Haha, glad to hear it!]
Not a Thing: [By the way, there’s one thing we need to settle quickly—each team needs to come up with a team name and report it to the tournament organizers by 2 p.m. today. Any ideas for a name?]
S.: “Whatever works~”
Aster: [Anything’s fine~.jpg]
Miracle Nikki: “So should Nanbei and I just pick one?”
S.: “Sure~”
Aster: [Sounds good~.jpg]
Miracle Nikki: “I’ll post it here once we’ve chosen so you can take a look, alright?”
S.: [No need~]
S.: [You guys decide~]
Aster: [All good~.jpg]
Not a Thing: [Alright, we’ll come up with something and submit it directly.]
Sang Ye put his phone aside, casually running a hand through his freshly washed and dried hair, not at all concerned about the team name.
Talk then looked up from his phone and asked, “What’s your team name?”
“Huh?” Sang Ye straightened up slightly and replied, “My teammates are picking it; I left it up to them.”
Talk kept typing as he responded, “Got it. I left it to my team too.”
But by evening, Sang Ye started to regret his casual attitude from earlier.
That night, Sang Ye went live for the first time in a while, and as soon as the stream started, fake fans flooded him with the usual question:
[“Where are the women’s clothes?”]
An age-old opening line that never seemed to go away.
Sang Ye had become an expert at ignoring it.
Women’s clothes?
Doesn’t exist.
He was a solid, respectable man, seven-and-a-half feet tall, with an iron will; there was absolutely no way he’d ever wear a skirt.
But the chat was already buzzing with suggestions for different outfits, as if they were making requests.
[“Nurse outfit.”]
[“Sailor uniform.”]
[“JK uniform1.”]
[“Tight dress with black stockings.”]
Sang Ye glanced over and replied coolly, “Enough already, it’s not happening…”
Before he could finish his sentence, a figure appeared behind him, standing beside his gaming chair. The camera only caught the man’s neck and below, but just by the distinct look of his hand holding a cup, everyone knew who it was—there was no mistaking those long, graceful fingers.
[“Ahhh! We caught a wild Tan Shen!”]
Sang Ye turned immediately, pulling off his headset.
Tan Mo was still looking at his screen. After a moment, he shook his head. “None of these suit you.”
Sang Ye looked puzzled. “Huh?”
Tan Mo took a sip from his cup, his calm gaze sweeping up and down over Sang Ye from behind the rim. Sang Ye shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
Placing the cup down, Tan Mo said casually, “You’d suit something more refined.”
Sang Ye froze, his face instantly turning red. “No…I didn’t…”
Refined or not, he had no intention of wearing women’s clothing at all!
Tan Mo then took a seat beside him and opened his laptop. “Mind if I watch your stream?”
“…Uh, no…no, I don’t mind…”
With no other choice, Sang Ye could only cast a frustrated glance at his fake fans in the chat.
And they were absolutely thrilled.
[“Hahaha! Just go along with it, Fu Gui! Your man says you’d suit something refined!”]
[“Tan Shen’s offering advice here, huh? Haha, all men have ulterior motives!”]
[“I’d bet my life Tan wants to see Fu Gui in women’s clothing. From that look, he’s probably imagining him in a hundred different outfits already.”]
[“No, I think in Tan’s mind, Fu Gui isn’t wearing anything at all.”]
What nonsense!
Sang Ye’s face grew redder, and to avoid the moderators flagging his stream, he had to delete a few comments.
Just then—
A notification popped up on his computer for WeChat.
He casually clicked to open it, and it turned out to be a message from the All-Stars group chat.
Not a Thing: [Team name has been submitted!]
Not a Thing:[File]
Song opened the file.
Team name for Group 12: We Have Wife Fans Squad.
S.: [?]
Below that was the English team name—simply and boldly, “Wife.”
Song was utterly baffled, staring at it in confusion. “What on earth? ‘Wi-fi’? Isn’t Wi-fi wireless internet? What does it have to do with that…”
Talk reached over and gently covered Song’s mouth.
Silenced in an instant, Song could only glance to the side, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions.
Looking at him, Talk said, “Wife.”
Thud! In that moment, it felt as if a hammer had slammed onto Song’s head, leaving him speechless and unable to think straight.
Talk let go of his hand.
Song looked completely dazed, as if unable to snap out of it.
Talk merely kept his gaze fixed on Song, and repeated, “Wife.”
This time, Song’s face turned beet red. His eyes sparkled with a hint of light, and after hesitating for a moment, he whispered, voice dropping a little, “Why are you…”
Talk took hold of Song’s mouse and circled the English team name on the screen twice. “This word—it means wife.”
“……………”
Song’s breath hitched, and his heart skipped a beat.
[“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—oh my god, I’m losing it!!!”]
[“Oh, sweetheart! Wi-Fi is wireless internet! Wife means wife!”]
[“Did you think Talk was calling you his wife?”]
[“He even responded with a ‘Why’… (smirk)”]
[“SOS! His embarrassment is radiating through the screen! Someone help him!”]
Song adjusted his slightly askew headphones, cleared his throat, and faced the computer, pretending to remain composed. “Oh… got it.”
But his usually fair skin was so red that no matter how much he tried to act indifferent, he couldn’t hide his steadily growing panic and embarrassment.
Leaning forward into his screen, he moved the mouse left, then right, closed the game, opened it again, clicked through to his stream, scrolled through the comments, then closed the game again.
With all this clicking, it wasn’t clear what he was actually trying to do.
Talk seemed to catch on, and ignoring the fact that they were still streaming, he turned Song’s gaming chair toward him. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
Song’s lashes lowered, and his face turned increasingly quiet as he took off his headphones.
Talk lifted his chin gently with one finger. “Come on, don’t be mad, okay?”
Song frowned, his mouth tightened, and unable to hold back, he dove into Talk’s chest, his muffled voice filled with both frustration and a bit of helplessness.
“Ugh! This is all your fault! All your fault!”
Talk was solidly hit, yet he laughed with obvious delight, spreading his hand over the back of the young man’s head.
The stream chat, having witnessed the entire scene, practically exploded.
Note :
- “JK” stands for joshi kōsei (女子高生), meaning “high school girl” in Japanese. This uniform style often includes a pleated skirt, a sailor-style collar, and a ribbon or tie. ↩︎