Chapter 45 – Rap yyds
The All-Star tournament, which lasted an entire afternoon, ended in an incredibly lively and cheerful atmosphere. In the end, the championship did not belong to any high-profile celebrity player but was instead claimed by a relatively unknown team.
Netizens took this result in stride. In fact, a well-known esports blogger summed up the tournament after it ended, perfectly capturing the sentiments of thousands of viewers and earning widespread approval.
Eat Chicken, Noob Chicken V:
[The unfortunate ones: Fool and Fang Fang, stuck with Talk. The rookie Aster, stuck with Song.
And an international player, JunX? Oh, he had it even worse—he lost his in-game experience card just for offending Talk.
So, what were the two rap stars, the sources of all this misfortune, doing?
[smile] [smile] [smile]
Don’t ask. If you must ask, they were too busy feeding us dog food with no time to play with you single folks.
#IWasn’tWatchingThePCLSummerAllStarGame IWasWatchingAPUBGPublicExecutionOfSingles#]
Since the audience could hear the players’ in-game voice chat, this year’s All-Star event was packed with viral moments. Many highlight reels quickly emerged in the gaming section of Bilibili, with the most popular one being Talk’s now-iconic line: “Crowdfund me a washboard.”
By the time the tournament ended, the well-known content creator “Meme Guide” had already updated their dictionary entry:
[Crowdfund a washboard]:
[Originating from the 2022 PCL Summer All-Star tournament, this phrase was spoken by the popular player Talk as a threat to his teammates.
After Talk landed three headshots on Song in the second match, he seemed internally conflicted. For the rest of the tournament, he went out of his way to avoid conflict with Song. However, his teammates were eager to keep pushing forward, leading to a dispute. In the heat of the moment, he blurted out this tough (yet secretly fearful) statement.
The extended meaning is: My wife is very angry right now, and you’re doing this to make me suffer, please stop immediately.
Although Talk may not have meant it this way, we firmly believe that the pure brotherhood between professional players will never be shaken. Still, for those under the thumb of their wives, this phrase is highly effective and can be used with excellent results.]
The comments below were flooded with [Hahahaha] responses, indicating the content creator had nailed the essence of the situation.
When they exited the esports venue, it was still daylight.
Several teams waited for their ride at the same exit, chatting and laughing.
Sang Ye didn’t join the conversation, instead holding his phone and scrolling through it. The more he scrolled, the redder his face became, and his mood became more agitated.
The comments from the netizens were shameless and over the top, discussing how he and Talk were already secretly an item in their eyes, like a real-life couple.
However, Sang Ye’s flushed face and racing heart were not because he took any of this seriously. He knew full well that he and Talk were completely innocent and had nothing between them.
He had never been interested in shipping CPs and had always been indifferent to rap fandoms, but today, as he scrolled through the comments and saw the clues netizens had dug up with a magnifying glass, he suddenly found… he was starting to ship the CP.
Some netizens even said that because Li Junxian had teased him during an interview, Talk had angrily headshot him in the next match. Sang Ye knew that couldn’t be true, but the way the netizens presented it made it seem so real, and despite the lack of logic, it felt sweet.
Is this the joy of shipping a CP?
As Sang Ye scrolled halfway, he suddenly realized he was surrounded by people. A wave of embarrassment washed over him.
Shipping a CP wasn’t something that should be done in public—it’s something you do in the privacy of your bed at night, where it’s hidden and easy to squirm in excitement.
Blushing, Sang Ye put his phone away. When he looked up, he saw Talk and Shine in a far corner, away from the crowd, talking comfortably about something.
Sang Ye furrowed his brow lightly, a small prickling sensation passing through his heart, but it was gone in an instant. He couldn’t help but feel a wary thought creeping into his mind.
—Is Xia Zhiyan thinking of switching teams back?
Meanwhile, on the other side, Shine, avoiding the crowd, asked, “Brother, that… is it fine now?”
Talk understood what he was referring to and answered truthfully, “Not yet, but it’s being controlled.”
“Oh.” Shine lowered his head in slight disappointment and said, “I saw that you had been competing for a whole week before, and today, you seemed to be in much better form—not as tense as you were during the spring season. I thought you…”
“It’s nothing.” Tan Mo appeared indifferent. Changing the topic, he asked, “That Korean player doesn’t speak Chinese. How do you communicate during matches?”
Shine replied, “We speak English. Everyone knows some basic English, and it’s enough.”
Tan Mo asked again, “Are you adjusting well after joining NSN?”
Shine opened his mouth slightly but then closed it again. After a moment, he forced a smile. “It’s fine. No matter where I am, I’m just playing matches.”
Tan Mo nodded. “That’s good. I’ve always trusted you.”
Shine felt a pang in his heart. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, and he almost blurted out, “Brother, I…”
Tan Mo looked at him.
But in the very next instant, Shine regained his composure.
How could he even have the audacity to say such things?
He had left WLG when they were at their lowest point. If he now brought up the idea of returning, everyone would think he was only doing so because WLG had a chance to reclaim their former glory—that he was betraying his current team at the last minute.
But the truth was, he wasn’t happy at NSN. It wasn’t until he left that he realized just how precious WLG had been. The people he had spent every day with weren’t just his coach, captain, or teammates; they were like close-knit partners, even family.
But he had realized it too late.
He knew that if he asked, he could definitely go back. But even if he returned, WLG no longer had a place for him.
Shine pressed his lips together and gazed into the distance. After a long silence, he suddenly said, “I really envy Song. Not because of his achievements or his position now, but because of his courage and unwavering devotion.”
When the temple was on the verge of collapse, Shine had chosen to escape, while Sang Ye had chosen to stay. Fate rewards the brave.
Hearing that name, even Tan Mo’s expression softened. He let out a light chuckle. “He…”
“He keeps looking this way.” Shine retracted his gaze, sounding somewhat helpless. “It’s like he’s afraid I’m going to steal you away. Is he a sheepdog or something? He’s watching over his captain way too closely.”
Tan Mo raised an eyebrow and glanced back, but Sang Ye wasn’t looking in their direction. Instead, he had his head down, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, absentmindedly kicking the pavement. “Is he?”
“He’s pretending.” Shine jerked his chin in Sang Ye’s direction. “The moment I caught him, he started acting like he was just looking around.”
Tan Mo bit his lip, holding back a laugh.
On the other side, Sang Ye was inwardly grumbling in frustration.
Why does Xia Zhiyan keep staring at him?
Is he guarding against him or something?
What can’t they say in front of him?
So annoying…
He stole another glance in their direction, only to realize that the two of them had disappeared.
Sang Ye froze for a second, then glanced around.
At that moment, a tall figure silently appeared beside him.
“What are you looking for?”
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t turn his head immediately but instead stretched his neck, peering toward the end of the street. “Has the car not arrived yet?”
Tan Mo followed his gaze and pointed out, “This is a one-way street. No cars will come from that direction.”
“……”
Sang Ye’s face turned bright red. Embarrassed at being seen through so easily, he quickly withdrew his neck.
Tan Mo asked again, “What are you looking for?”
Sang Ye glanced at the person beside him and saw Tan Mo casually carrying a bag over one shoulder, his white team jacket looking crisp and effortlessly stylish on him.
Thanks to his height advantage, Tan Mo was currently looking down at Sang Ye, his dark lashes casting shadows like crow feathers. This made his peach-blossom eyes take on a hazy, veil-like charm. The warm pink-orange hues of the setting sun brushed over the bridge of his sharp nose, and the corner of his lips curved into a faint, teasing smile.
Sang Ye felt a little embarrassed, but realizing that Tan Mo was doing it on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed as well. Either way, he couldn’t stay here any longer. He turned his head and walked off. “I’m going to find Xiao Pai!”
However, he had barely taken two steps when a hand grabbed the back collar of his jacket and pulled him back.
Tan Mo lifted Sang Ye like he was picking up a rabbit, his scrutinizing gaze carrying the same amusement as if he were inspecting one. After a moment, he lowered his voice and asked, “I can’t even talk to someone for a little while?”
A rush of heat spread across Sang Ye’s face, and the little deer in his heart was practically bouncing itself to death. He didn’t even know why he was flustered, fumbling over his words in a panicked attempt to explain: “No! No! You can, of course you can—who’s stopping you… I-I didn’t do anything, you don’t…”
“There you two are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
At that moment, Xiao Pai walked toward them.
Tan Mo let go, and Sang Ye quickly turned his head away, rubbing his burning face.
Xiao Pai said, “Let’s go into the city for dinner. Grandpa Yu1 already agreed. We’ll head back to the hotel first, then take a car together. Any thoughts on what to eat?”
Still sulking, Sang Ye mumbled, “Whatever.”
“Alright, I’ll check.” Xiao Pai lowered his head to browse his phone. “If you guys think of anything good, let me know.”
Tan Mo remained silent on the side.
Sang Ye suddenly realized—Tan Mo hadn’t said whether he was going or not.
…He wouldn’t refuse, would he?
That thought made his heart uneasy. Unable to resist, he snuck a glance to the side and saw that Tan Mo was looking down at his phone.
Just then, Tan Mo happened to glance back at him.
Their eyes met.
Tan Mo seemed to be pondering something. “Song.”
Sang Ye immediately straightened up, adopting a serious and formal tone. “Hm?”
Tan Mo narrowed his eyes slightly and asked, “Are you the jealous type?”
“………”
Sang Ye’s face flushed bright red—he felt like he was about to explode!
Again?!
A mix of panic, guilt, embarrassment, and frustration surged through him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Stepping forward, he lifted his chin and practically shoved his face right up to Tan Mo’s.
“I never said you couldn’t talk to other people! And I’m not jealous! Why would I be so childish that I’d get jealous just because you had a short conversation with someone? You could talk to ten Shines for a thousand hours, and I wouldn’t care! It’s not like I was watching you on purpose—I just happened to notice you standing there, so I looked a couple of times! There was absolutely no other meaning behind it, and I am definitely not that petty! What on earth are you thinking?!”
As Sang Ye unleashed his furious outburst, Xiao Pai was so stunned that he lifted his head, too scared to move, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them.
However, Tan Mo simply looked at Sang Ye with a calm expression.
Just as Sang Ye stood there, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling as he panted heavily—
Tan Mo slowly raised his phone, tilting it toward Sang Ye’s direction. Then, unhurriedly, he said, “I was just thinking… if you like vinegar so much, maybe we should have noodle soup tonight? Xu Ji’s red vinegar is pretty famous. Want to give it a try?”
Sang Ye froze in place, his breath catching in his throat as he blankly stared at the phone in front of him.
“……”
It was a restaurant review page, displaying a photo of a steaming bowl of fat intestines noodle soup, looking juicy and incredibly appetizing.
Sang Ye stood still for a moment before lowering his hands from his hips. His gaze flickered left, then right. He licked his lips, lowered his eyelids, and his fair cheeks flushed an even deeper red. His voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s hum.
“…Okay.”
Tan Mo turned to Xiao Pai. “I’ll send you the address—”
Before he could finish, Xiao Pai suddenly hushed him with a sharp “Shh!” Then, cautiously glancing at Sang Ye, he whispered to Tan Mo, “Brother, don’t talk to me. I’m scared.”
“……”
Sang Ye lowered his head and clenched his teeth hard.
That little brat Xiao Pai—he’s doing this on purpose!
By the time their car arrived at the restaurant, it was right at dinnertime, and the place was so popular that they had to wait in line.
They had all changed into casual clothes and were wearing masks, so under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t be easily recognized. However, Sang Ye’s striking white hair was impossible to miss.
A few young men and women kept glancing in their direction, eyes gleaming with excitement. They had already guessed who they were, but in the end, they chose not to approach, opting instead to respect their favorite players’ personal space.
After waiting for about half an hour, their number was finally called, and they settled into a corner table.
Once the noodles arrived, Sang Ye went wild, pouring vinegar into his bowl with such enthusiasm that even Hu Fu was stunned. “D*mn, Little Shanxi, how do you handle that much vinegar?”
“He just loves vinegar.” Xiao Pai, oblivious to his own survival, grinned mischievously. “My brother knows all about it.”
Sang Ye slammed his plate onto the table and shot Xiao Pai a cold glare. “I’m gonna chop you up.”
Xiao Pai immediately stopped laughing. “……”
What kind of species is this? Why so aggressive?
Tan Mo took a pair of chopsticks, sterilized them, and naturally placed them on the edge of Sang Ye’s bowl. Then he said to the others, “We’re all hungry—let’s eat.”
Sang Ye was indeed starving, so he buried his head in his bowl and devoured his food.
Meanwhile, Hu Fu scrolled through his phone as he ate. After a moment, he suddenly chuckled. “Oh wow, the Korean forums are going crazy.”
“They’re always hyping themselves up,” Xiao Pai said. “What is it this time?”
Hu Fu tapped his screen a couple of times. “Sent it to the group chat.”
Sang Ye picked up his phone to take a look.
It was a post from the Mop Forum, where the original poster had compiled screenshots of comments from Korean social media, arranging them into a long image. Each comment had a Chinese translation beside it.
Sang Ye scrolled down and started reading.
[Saw Li’s interview at the China All-Star event—respect for his ambition to dominate the PCL.]
[Korea is the true powerhouse of PUBG. Our players can become the top 1 in any region.]
[WLG, tremble. Talk, tremble. That man, like a war god, is coming for you. This time, he will leave nothing but destruction in his wake.]
[Looks like PCL is already running out of talent and needs to import top-tier players from PKL. Forget about the Summer Split trophy—who will the Intercontinental trophy belong to after that?]
[…]
Sang Ye let out a quiet scoff.
It really did seem like they were just hyping themselves up.
Xiao Pai, on the other hand, was getting annoyed. “How long has it been? And they’re still running their mouths about my brother?”
Hu Fu shook his head helplessly and said, “Li Junxian came from BTF. Any BTF fan automatically sees Tan Shen as an enemy, so whenever they get the chance, they drag him down.”
Sang Ye looked up in confusion.
“You probably don’t know this,” Xiao Pai explained. “When my brother competed in Korea, he was cyberbullied. Some people even mailed a dead chicken’s corpse to his hotel.”
Sang Ye froze for a second. “When did this happen?”
“Just last year, at the Intercontinental tournament,” Xiao Pai replied. “The event was held in Busan, right in Korea’s backyard. Maybe they were overconfident, convinced they’d win. Their fans probably thought the same. But in the end, we took the championship—the one and only time PCL ever surpassed PKL and won an intercontinental title. Some extreme fans couldn’t handle it.
“They started calling my brother a thief, saying he ‘stole’ their trophy. They even created special hashtags and spread them like wildfire. Then, they pushed this conspiracy that the Chinese teams were colluding in the final circle, deliberately teaming up to eliminate BTF and rob them of the title. The rumors were as ridiculous as they sound.
“For a while, my brother couldn’t even step out of the hotel without running into crazy fans—the kind that carried knives…”
“Are you still eating?” Tan Mo suddenly asked.
Xiao Pai: “Huh?”
Tan Mo said, “If you’re done, let’s leave. There are still a lot of people waiting outside.”
Xiao Pai huffed in frustration but didn’t say anything else. He just kept eating his noodles.
Hu Fu scrolled through his phone a couple more times before setting it down on the table. “If NSN really wins the Summer Split championship this time, I wonder if Li Junxian will start thinking of himself as some kind of savior. But the Korean media will definitely mock him. They always say, ‘Home is where the heart is,’ yet Li Junxian refuses to even speak Chinese. His stance is clear—he won’t assimilate. No idea what NSN was thinking, bringing in someone so ambitious and disloyal.”
“NSN won’t win.”
A clear, youthful voice suddenly cut in.
Hu Fu paused for a moment, then laughed. “Alright, alright, if Song himself says so, then they don’t stand a chance.”
Xiao Pai, itching to stir things up, deliberately asked, “And how do you know?”
Sang Ye slurped up his last noodle, tossed his chopsticks into the bowl, and declared arrogantly, “Wanna bet?”
“Oh ho! Of course, I don’t want NSN to win,” Xiao Pai perked up, ready to take the challenge. “So what’s the wager?”
Sang Ye licked his lips, then slammed his palm onto the table with the conviction of someone staking his very life: “Crossdressing!”
“……”
The dinner table fell silent for two seconds.
Then Hu Fu suddenly let out a snort and burst into laughter.
“I swear,” Xiao Pai clicked his tongue and shook his head. “This has become your go-to trick, hasn’t it? I’m not betting with you, okay? I also think NSN is doomed to lose. We can’t let them win—otherwise, the dignity of an all-Chinese roster will be gone.”
Sang Ye shot Xiao Pai a look, as if to say “Now that’s more like it,” then grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“By the way,” Tan Mo, who had just set down his chopsticks, suddenly spoke as if something had come to mind.
Sang Ye: “Hm?”
Tan Mo took a sip from his tea cup, his indifferent gaze sweeping over Sang Ye. Then he put the cup down and asked:
“When are you going to repay your fans by crossdressing?”
Sang Ye: “……”
“Pfft—!”
It was Hu Fu—he had just sprayed his noodles everywhere.
…
A few days after the All-Star Game, the playoffs officially began.
This marked the final stage of the Summer Split, where sixteen teams that had advanced from the regular season would compete in five consecutive days of matches—six games per day, totaling thirty games. The format was a points-based ranking system, with the team accumulating the highest points crowned champion. The top eight teams would qualify for the upcoming intercontinental tournament.
Since playoff teams could carry over 10% of their weekly finals points, the standings after the first match showed Catch22, WLG, and NSN in the top three, with a point difference of less than 10 between them—essentially starting on even ground.
In the first match, NSN secured a stronghold in the fourth phase of the circle, gaining a strategic geographic advantage and comfortably holding their ground.
WLG, on the other hand, got caught in a bad spot when entering the final circle. Catch22’s grenades wiped out two of their players, and the last remaining lone wolf was picked off soon after, leaving them in fourth place.
In the end, NSN claimed the chicken dinner.
In the second match, everyone watched as NSN took control of a housing area near Bald Mountain in the first circle. From that point onward, every subsequent safe zone landed right on top of them. By the time the eighth circle formed around Meihua Stacks, they were still positioned dead center.
Commentator A: “This is insane! The safe zone is literally chasing after them! NSN hasn’t moved from their spot the entire game!”
Commentator B sighed. “I have to say, Koreans really seem to have some kind of circle luck. If you look at their performances in global tournaments, they’ve had plenty of games where they won by sitting in the perfect zone. But then again, it might just be that their rotations and macro play are incredibly refined. Now I understand why NSN decided to bring in Korean imports.”
Commentator A: “Yeah, their advantage is massive! It feels like NSN has completely transformed!”
During the earlier skirmish, Tan Mo had drawn fire to create space, sacrificing himself to ensure Sang Ye made it into the final circle. Only Hu Fu remained nearby as support.
Sang Ye flanked around the wall, carefully adjusting his angle. The moment he spotted an enemy silhouette peeking through a window, he opened fire. However, the opponent was incredibly quick—dodging just in time. Sang Ye was about to push forward when a shot was suddenly fired at him from another window. Reacting instinctively, he tried to counter, but the enemy had already vanished again.
This frustrating game of cat and mouse was getting under his skin.
“Watch your right—”
Tan Mo, observing from the OB (observer) view, started to warn him. But before he could finish, Sang Ye was hit by a brutal ambush—his health bar instantly drained to zero.
Grey screen.
Commentator A: “Unfortunate, but Song really did his best. JunX is incredibly mobile—give him even the slightest positional advantage or a complex building to maneuver in, and he’ll maximize his terrain control. Strategically, he just had the upper hand here.”
WLG secured second place, while NSN claimed another chicken dinner.
As the endgame music played, Tan Mo removed his headset and said, “That was already really good.”
But Sang Ye, still staring at his now-darkened screen, was clearly frustrated—his mind caught in a spiral of self-criticism.
Suddenly, a large hand covered his own, resting on the mouse.
Sang Ye snapped back to reality.
Tan Mo looked at him and repeated, “I told you, it was already really good.”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, lowered his head, and mumbled a faint “Mm.”
On the first day, NSN made a strong push, with three out of six matches falling in their favor with the Destiny Circle, giving them a huge advantage, and temporarily taking first place.
WLG, with their high kill count, had solid scores in every match and remained firmly in second.
On their way back to the backstage area, WLG ran into the NSN team.
Li Junxian winked at Sang Ye through the crowd, smiling.
That glance made Sang Ye’s throat tighten, and he felt uncomfortable all over.
Sometimes Talk would wink at him too, but Talk did it with such freshness and ease, making it look good while exuding a commanding charm.
Li Junxian, however, just came across as greasy.
Sang Ye frowned and averted his gaze, feeling annoyed but said nothing to anyone.
While in the car, Sang Ye received a notification on Weibo, and many people had shared a post. His notifications quickly spiked.
Sang Ye opened the message.
It turned out that Li Junxian had tagged him in a post.
However, it was all in English.
But Sang Ye wasn’t bothered; he simply hit the translate button, and the Chinese version popped up.
NSNJunX V:
[Little kitty, did I make you cry today? [Tongue out] @wlg-Song]
Sang Ye frowned, thinking, What the hell is this? Who’s he calling a little kitty?
Frustrated, a curse was about to slip out.
—“D*mn it.”
A low curse came from beside him.
Sang Ye froze, wondering when his mouth had been replaced. He turned his head to see Tan Mo, whose phone was showing the same Weibo post.
Tan Mo, rarely showing any sign of irritation, operated his phone without looking up, casually saying to Sang Ye, “Don’t mind him. I’ll have Yu Haotian take care of it. It’ll be dealt with soon.”
In that moment, Sang Ye didn’t have time to feel the warmth bubbling up inside him. His mind suddenly jolted as he remembered something from the video he had seen earlier.
Everyone had said that during the All-Star match, Talk was only targeting Li Junxian because of him.
Sang Ye leaned closer to the car window, biting the zipper of his jacket as his long eyelashes drooped, lost in thought.
Why did Talk seem more annoyed than him when he saw that Weibo post?
Was it simply because he couldn’t stand seeing his teammate being provoked?
Or…
Because the person being provoked is Song…
Once he had this thought, a strange shudder could not help but surge up in Sangye’s heart. It had nothing to do with him, but a kind of…
The boy knocked his milky white head against the window glass, looked at the street lights passing by the window, and slightly raised the corner of his lips.
So sweet.
Rap yyds.
The author has something to say:
Song: No love, only CP.
Note :
- Yu Haotian ↩︎