Chapter 42 – Pre-Game Trash Talk
Since his “Wife” vs. “Wi-Fi” blunder in the live stream, Sang Ye had resolved to improve his English. That very night, he downloaded an English dictionary app on his phone.
With just a scan, the app would display the word’s pronunciation and Chinese meaning, making it incredibly convenient.
Over the next two days, Sang Ye was diligent, scanning any word that caught his eye—whether it was the flyer at the hotel’s front desk, the glowing green signs on walls, or the friendly reminders on the restroom doors.
He was determined never to be stumped by his lack of language knowledge again!
The night before the All-Star match, in the dead of night…
Sang Ye casually mentioned that he was hungry during a conversation.
Talk replied immediately.
T.: [Want to go out for a bite?]
Sang Ye’s lips curled up. Even though he knew they had an early day ahead and needed rest, he couldn’t pass up a chance to spend time alone with his idol.
He sat up in bed and typed.
S.: [Let’s go to the convenience store for something quick. Walking distance.]
T.: [Ok!]
Sang Ye quietly climbed out of bed. Since it was late, he didn’t bother changing—dressing up would just look odd—so he simply leaned toward the mirror by the desk to tidy his hair a bit.
Xiao Pai, lounging against the bedhead with his phone, looked up. “Heading out?”
“Yeah,” Sang Ye replied casually, “just grabbing a snack at the convenience store. Don’t wait up.”
“Huh?” Unexpectedly, Xiao Pai began to sit up. “I’m starving too. Count me in!”
Sang Ye replied quickly, “I’ll get it for you! Just stay in bed!”
“…”
Xiao Pai shrank back, clutching his blanket, bewildered by the urgency.
Sang Ye left the room and was about to knock on Talk’s door, but as he looked up, he saw the man already leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, busy on his phone.
Talk hadn’t changed either. In a loose white cotton T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, he looked more laid-back and approachable than his usual polished, model-like self.
Sang Ye walked over lightly, hands behind his back, leaning forward slightly. “Let’s go!”
Talk lifted his gaze, meeting those bright, lively dark eyes. Sang Ye’s face looked fresh and almost boyish, his loose T-shirt shifting with his movements, and just faintly revealing two distinct collarbones.
Talk put away his phone and asked, “Did you put on bug spray?”
“Nope.” Sang Ye was used to being rough around the edges.
Talk pulled a small spray bottle from his pocket. “There are mosquitoes outside.”
Sang Ye acknowledged, took the bottle, and sprayed his slender arms casually. The scent was mild, not harsh. He then bent down to spray his bare calves. His legs were straight and slim, without any pronounced muscle definition. Both his arms and legs had the same smooth, fair tone, his skin soft and almost translucent without any noticeable variation.
Talk’s gaze lingered on Sang Ye’s calves, tracing their outline a couple of times.
Just then, Sang Ye straightened up, and Talk blinked, calmly shifting his gaze elsewhere.
There was no 24-hour convenience store nearby. Checking the map, the closest one was a couple of blocks away, past two intersections. But neither of them suggested taking a cab, and they naturally set off on foot.
At the store, even though it was late at night, several workers on overtime occupied the seating area, front desk, and microwaves, responding to messages on their phones.
Beneath the glittering surface of the bustling city, you only had to peek a little to see countless young people working themselves to the bone.
Sang Ye moved through the shelves, picking out several flavors of rice balls, along with snacks, candy, and yogurt. He also ordered a cup of oden from the service counter.
He piled everything onto the counter.
Talk casually grabbed a pack of gum from the shelf and placed it alongside Sang Ye’s items.
After scanning everything, the cashier’s excitement was barely contained as she said in a cheerful voice, “That’ll be one hundred twelve yuan and fifty cents.”
Sang Ye pulled out his phone to open the payment code, but beside him, there was a beep—Talk had already scanned the items with his phone.
Sang Ye was momentarily stunned. “But I bought these… I’ll transfer you the money on WeChat.”
Talk replied coolly, “There’s no need to keep it so separate with me.”
Sang Ye opened his mouth, but ultimately, he couldn’t withstand his embarrassment and lowered his eyes. “Thank you…”
The cashier exchanged glances between the two, suppressing a giddy smile as she picked up Sang Ye’s rice balls and went to heat them up.
While waiting, Sang Ye idly scanned the shelves beside the counter and noticed a bag of candy with bold, bright English lettering on the packaging.
That same relentless spirit of self-improvement surged within him again. He opened his dictionary app, bent down, and aimed the “scan” frame at the candy packaging. However, his phone had already captured a word from a box above him before he could.
The next second, the quiet convenience store was filled with a thunderous mechanical female voice:
“Durex—”
“Durex was established in 1929. Its product line covers condoms, lubricants, and more, known for being long-lasting, reliable, and of excellent quality…”
With a loud “whoosh,” all eyes in the convenience store turned toward the front counter.
Sang Ye froze in place, still bent over with his phone held up to the shelf, creating a scene that was both ridiculous and somewhat… inappropriate.
A few people pointed and whispered to each other, but it was clear there was no malice in their amusement.
Talk glanced over at the petrified boy beside him and reached out to turn off the continuing broadcast from the female voice.
Only then did Sang Ye straighten up, acting as if nothing had happened, although his head was nearly buried in his chest. He pressed on his phone, and his face quickly flushed with embarrassment.
Seeing his reaction, Talk stepped closer and spoke in a lowered voice with a hint of coaxing, “How about we wait outside instead?”
Sang Ye instantly broke down, feeling both frustrated and angry—angry with himself, he kept his head down and stubbornly said no.
Talk responded, “I’ll come find you when it’s ready.”
“Absolutely not!”
Sang Ye furrowed his brows in annoyance, his voice becoming sharp and high-pitched. Yet, he stepped closer and buried his flushed face against the man’s broad chest, trying to shield himself from the curious gazes around him.
Talk suppressed a laugh. Unable to help himself, he gently pressed down on the boy’s head and rubbed it comfortingly.
With his face deeply buried in the man’s T-shirt, Sang Ye panted heavily.
How embarrassing!!!
The female cashier returned with the rice balls and, upon seeing the man and the boy at the counter, her eyes lit up like a thousand-watt bulb, sparkling brightly.
What a divine couple this is!!
Both of them were good-looking, fit, and had exceptional charm. Their physiques were strikingly attractive, resembling characters straight out of a Japanese anime!
It was the middle of the night, and the older partner took the younger one out to buy condoms. The younger partner publicly revealed his intentions, too shy to lift his head as he hid in the older partner’s embrace, while the older one looked indulgent, helping him carry the items. When they got home, it was bound to lead to all sorts of activities…
In her mind, the cashier instantly envisioned a thousand-word steamy scenario. When she lifted her eyes and met the man’s gaze, she immediately looked down, “slurped” up nonexistent saliva, and quickly bagged the items.
Talk took the bag, and with one hand still on Sang Ye, he awkwardly lifted the cup of oden with the same hand.
The cashier couldn’t help herself, leaning on the counter with both hands. She glanced at the boy and smiled warmly at Sang Ye, saying, “It seems your boyfriend is a bit angry, but he’s really cute~”
Sang Ye heard this and faltered, flustered by embarrassment. Forgetting to maintain a distance, he buried his face back into Talk’s embrace.
He’s not my boyfriend…
However, Talk didn’t offer any explanation. He merely nodded distantly at the cashier and started to leave.
At that moment, the cashier lowered her voice and pointed discreetly to a shelf nearby, whispering, “You don’t have to feel shy; you can take a box with you.”
Talk glanced in the direction she was indicating.
Sang Ye also peeked out from between Talk’s T-shirt, looking over.
A row of Durex condoms.
“…”
The girl said, “Two boxes are on sale.”
As she spoke, it became more absurd. Sang Ye’s ears felt like they were about to smoke, and he quickly pulled Tan Mo away. “We don’t need those.”
The girl gasped in shock.
Sang Ye turned back to look at her.
He could see her expression clearly reflected the words: “You! Guys! Are! Wild!”
“……”
Wait, what’s the misunderstanding here?
…
Once they exited the convenience store, Sang Ye calmed his wounded heart by devouring six sticks of oden.
“Don’t you find it strange?”
“Strange about what?”
At the end of July, Guangzhou’s summer was unbearably hot. Luckily, it was deep in the night, and the heat of the earth was gradually dissipating, but it still felt a bit uncomfortable right after leaving the store.
Sang Ye tossed the cup into a trash bin by the roadside, and suddenly thought of something. His face turned a bit red, and his voice dropped. “How could anyone think that two guys are a couple…”
Tan Mo was holding the convenience bag for him and paused for two seconds. “I don’t think it’s strange.”
Something in Sang Ye’s heart jolted, and he looked stunned. “…Huh?”
Tan Mo tilted his head to look at him and asked back, “What do you think?”
Sang Ye stared at Tan Mo but found himself momentarily at a loss.
The man’s charming peach blossom eyes looked different under the night’s haze; they were infused with a blurry, ambiguous quality.
Just the mere act of looking into each other’s eyes made Sang Ye feel his heartstrings tremble. However, when Tan Mo asked, the spark in his eyes was persistent and determined, even a bit aggressive, as if he wanted to delve into Sang Ye’s deepest thoughts.
Sang Ye inexplicably felt parched. He had merely brought it up casually and had never really considered the question seriously. Tan Mo’s answer surprised him; he had expected Tan Mo to agree, not to counter…
For a moment, Sang Ye wanted to look away. Just then, the quiet street was broken by the sound of a ringing phone.
He fumbled to pull out his phone.
It was Xiao Pai, dragging out his tone as he shouted, “Bai Mao—where are you? If you don’t come back soon, I’m going to starve to death, ahhh—”
“Then just starve.” Sang Ye replied irritably, “I’m almost there.”
After hanging up, Sang Ye reached for the convenience bag in Tan Mo’s hand. “Xiao Pai is rushing us… Let me take that.”
“It’s fine,” Tan Mo didn’t hand it over and said, “It’s not heavy… not doing anything but still rushing you. You should tell him off when we get back.”
The previously ambiguous atmosphere was dispersed by the phone call, and neither of them resumed the previous topic.
Sang Ye let out a sigh of relief, but as he gradually returned to his senses, he also felt an indescribable sense of regret.
…
The next day was the All-Star Game.
Since it was a fun, exhibition match, the results wouldn’t affect the summer season standings, and the players weren’t really after the small prize pool. Everything was focused on entertainment value, so everyone was very relaxed, almost as if heading out on a group outing when they boarded the bus.
The four members of WLG were each assigned to different teams.
Xiao Pai was trash-talking everyone around, saying things like, “I’m not holding back, just so you know,” and “If you see Pai around, better walk the other way.”
Yet, apart from Hu Fu, everyone pretty much ignored his performance.
Upon arriving at the venue, all players were instructed to go to the backstage hall to find their teammates and wait for their turn to go on stage in groups.
Sang Ye met up with his teammates in a corner.
The two XXY team members were just as friendly as they were in the group chat.
Xing Xing, with his pink hair, looked around nervously, his fingers tucked into his jacket sleeves, showing signs of slight social anxiety.
Miracle surveyed the entire hall and sighed, “So many strong players… But it’s all about fun today, so let’s not take it too seriously. Song, no pressure on you either—just give any commands you like.”
Sang Ye was looking in the other direction of the hall and responded coolly, “I never give random commands.”
“…”
With one sentence, he successfully killed the conversation.
The little guy in the group chat, always using squiggly lines, felt much more approachable.
“What are you looking at?” Nan Bei followed his gaze and said, “Tan Shen? Ugh! That team is like a death group—three captains and Shine. Let’s hope they show mercy and don’t go all out, or nobody stands a chance.”
Tan Mo stood quietly among the crowd not far away, occasionally pulling the corner of his lips into a faint smile, responding to his teammates with a few words.
Sang Ye’s gaze shifted to Shine, standing beside Tan Mo. Shine had ended up grouped with the former captain, seeming relaxed and smiling more often than usual.
Sang Ye’s eyes were full of envy as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders lifting slightly as he took a deep breath, only to sigh and let them drop.
How nice it would be to be on Talk’s team…
But then, a frown crossed Sang Ye’s face as a thought came to mind.
Given Talk’s current condition, would that flashback symptom act up again?
He felt a bit concerned, but there wasn’t much he could do.
Just then, a surge of energizing music filled the front area, and a staff member waved a notebook, calling out, “Attention, everyone! It’s time to go onstage!”
As the music started, Tan Mo glanced toward the front, pressing his fingertips into his palm with a slight stiffness to his expression, though he hid it well from those around him.
The hall bustled as everyone lined up in order.
Sang Ye followed at the end of the line, moving forward when he felt a light tug on his sleeve from behind.
He barely noticed it, and then it happened again.
This time, Sang Ye turned around.
And saw Tan Mo.
Sang Ye blinked. “What’s up?”
Tan Mo licked his lips, showing a rare hint of awkwardness as he looked down. “I’m feeling a bit… uh… you know.”
Sang Ye looked confused at first, then his expression grew serious. He glanced around and asked quietly, “What should we do?”
Tan Mo furrowed his brow slightly, squeezing Sang Ye’s hand.
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around and the corner had a column for cover, Sang Ye boldly pulled open his collar.
“I mean…”
“Do you want me to…help?”
Both spoke at the same time and then went completely silent.
Tan Mo lowered his gaze, noticing that Sang Ye had pulled his collar so far it nearly exposed his shoulder.
…The kid was really being hard on himself.
At the same time, Sang Ye realized from Tan Mo’s reaction that the man probably didn’t mean what he had assumed. Embarrassment seeped through the cracks in his expression.
Tan Mo bit his lip, maintaining his composure as he gently adjusted Sang Ye’s collar back in place.
Sang Ye’s delicate face flushed red. He pressed his lips together, and after a silent pause, suddenly let out a frustrated sound:
“Oh, come on! Stop laughing at me!!”
“Pfft—”
Tan Mo finally couldn’t hold back, lowering his head as his shoulders shook with laughter.
Sang Ye pressed his lips tightly, looking thoroughly indignant.
Tan Mo placed a hand on the back of Sang Ye’s head and leaned close to his ear. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
The man’s low, gentle voice sent a warm flush to Sang Ye’s ears, intensifying his embarrassment over his earlier eagerness.
Just then, Tan Mo ruffled the boy’s hair again, moving closer to lightly nuzzle his head into Sang Ye’s milk-white locks, taking a gentle breath.
—The scent was full of Sang Ye’s natural sweetness, a calming fragrance that dispelled Tan Mo’s restlessness and anxiety, transforming it into a moment of peace and satisfaction.
Sang Ye sensed what Tan Mo was doing and froze, too stunned to move.
“I’m all better now…” Tan Mo murmured with a slight smile, “Thank you.”
As Tan Mo rejoined the lineup, Sang Ye stood there, still in a daze, as if half his soul had been whisked away by Tan Mo. It took him a while to turn around, press his face into the wall, and cover it, his two exposed ears glowing red.
…
Amid the announcer’s lively introductions, sixteen teams made their way onto the stage and seated themselves in designated areas.
When Tan Mo and Sang Ye’s turns came, the crowd erupted into particularly loud cheers, and from one section, rhythmic chanting began: “Rap! Rap! Rap!…”
It was only then that Sang Ye realized Tan Mo’s team was called “My Husband,” with the English team name simply, “Husband.”
Sang Ye fidgeted uncomfortably, curling his fingers, instinctively wanting to pull out his phone to look something up. But phones weren’t allowed on stage.
He cleared his throat, too curious to hold back his discomfort, and asked the person next to him, Xing Xing, “What does it mean?”
Xing Xing looked at him. “Husband.”
Sang Ye frowned, eyeing him warily. “What did you say?”
Xing Xing pointed at the banner across the table: “Husband. It means ‘hubby’.”
Sang Ye scratched his eyebrow. “…Oh.”
He’d nearly misunderstood again.
But a moment later, it hit him—Talk’s team name practically matched his own team name.
—“We have ‘wife’ fans.”
—“My Husband.”
—Wife.
—Husband.
What the heck.
Who came up with this?
Was it this intentional?
Just then, Miracle chimed in with a smug smile and a look of pride: “What do you think? Both team names were thought up by us at XXY. Creative, right?”
“…”
Right. He remembered that XXY’s captain was in Talk’s group.
Sang Ye pursed his lips, mildly annoyed.
Some clever names you came up with.
This time, the player seating was set up face-to-face, with over a meter’s distance between, with two rows of people on each side.
Sang Ye’s team and Tan Mo’s team ended up sitting directly across from each other.
When Sang Ye lifted his gaze, he could still see Tan Mo over the top of his computer screen.
This spot somewhat eased his long-standing frustration about not being able to team up with him.
As the players were just about done setting up their equipment, the host started moving around, encouraging everyone to throw out some casual trash talk—lines like “We’re going to wipe the floor with you,” “Try and roll a point, and we’ll crush you,” or “I’ve wanted a shot to go against you forever—thank you, All-Star event!”
The crowd was loving it, roaring with laughter.
Then, the mic was passed to Sang Ye.
He looked at it and, keeping his cool, pointed to the person next to him instead.
The host laughed awkwardly and handed the mic to Miracle.
Miracle aimed his comments at the other team’s position, cleared his throat, and said excitedly, “I’d like to tell my ‘Husband’ team to watch where they’re going—if we run into you, well, we may all be post-2000s, but we definitely don’t have the habit of respecting our elders.”
The audience burst into laughter and cheers.
Miracle’s jab was clearly poking fun at the fact that the “Husband” team had three veteran captains.
“Oh~ shots fired!” the host chuckled, passing the mic over to the opposite table, “So, Talk, how do you want to respond to the ‘Wife Fans’ team’s remarks?”
Tan Mo raised his head from his computer, took a glance across the table, and calmly responded with just two words, “Is that so?”
Then, his gaze shifted to the team name on the opposing team’s banner, his expression detached and faintly mocking:
“Are ‘wife fans’ even yours?”
“Aaahhhhhh—!”
The crowd erupted into wild, roof-raising screams.
Meanwhile, the official livestream’s chat was scrolling so fast it was practically lagging.
[“Tan Mo! You’re a legend! Even now, he’s asserting his territory!”]
[“I think I detect a hint of jealousy here—my grin’s reaching my ears!”]
[“Is it real? Say it is, say it is!”]
Right then, the broadcast director smartly zoomed in on Sang Ye, capturing his reaction for the audience.
Everyone saw the white-haired young man hiding behind his computer, hands on his forehead, his face a deep red with an expression that was both bashful and helpless. The next second, his head dropped as he flopped forward onto his arms with a soft “thud,” giving off an air of utter surrender.
Fans were in hysterics, and the shippers were overjoyed.
[“Fu Gui: Listen to me, thank you.”]
[“Mom! He’s so adorable!!!”]
[“In response to his “husband’s” constant PDA, Song says he’s already used to it.”]
Amid the loud, bustling sounds of the venue, Sang Ye still lay resting on his arms, rolling his head slightly to sneak a glance through the gap above his computer toward the other side.
Unexpectedly, Tan Mo was already looking his way, and their gazes met effortlessly.
Sang Ye’s heart gave a little jolt—part embarrassment, part irritation—as he stuck out his bright red tongue and made a face at the man.
Tan Mo’s lips curled into a faint smile, and that unmistakably directed smile was caught by the camera, setting off yet another wave of excited screams.