Chapter 52 – Gift.
The Hive Express Locker was conveniently located on the side of the villa that served as the dormitory. Sang Ye sprinted over, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and quickly entered the pickup code—though in his nervousness, he accidentally pressed the wrong digit once.
As soon as the locker door popped open, he swiftly grabbed his package, hugging it to his chest without even glancing at it, and dashed back to the dormitory.
Back in his room, he slid to his knees in front of the bed, tearing open the courier bag to reveal a luxurious black and gold box. The bottom right corner bore the elegant inscription “Mei Ren Fang” in delicate font.
Just seeing those three words was enough to make the boy’s face turn red.
This is way too feminine…
So this is the kind of stuff Talk likes…?
Sang Ye traced the lettering on the box with his fingertip, and for the first time, a vague realization dawned on him—Tan Mo wasn’t just an idol to him. He was also a man—a man with his own distinct tastes and preferences.
Sang Ye’s face burned even hotter. He wrinkled his nose lightly.
…Men really are all a little pervy.
—Inside the practice room.
“What kind of package did you pick up? So secretive.” Xiao Pai chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hiding national secrets in that locker.”
Tan Mo sat down in his seat, his tone indifferent. “Why do you care so much?”
Xiao Pai pursed his lips before turning back to his own desk. “Brother, it’s not training time yet, right? I’m gonna play a few more rounds!”
Tan Mo’s gaze swept past Xiao Pai’s monitor, just in time to see a jade ring display page being closed. He hummed lightly in response.
After practicing a few recoil control drills in-game, he checked the time, then picked up his phone and sent a message.
T.: [Did you get the package?]
—Inside the dormitory.
Sang Ye lifted the lid of the box and peeled back a thin layer of paper, revealing crescent-white fabric beneath it, subtly adorned with understated patterns.
He reached out to touch it—the material was cool to the touch, silky smooth, yet not at all flimsy. It was of excellent quality.
The thought that he might actually put this on made his heart pound. ‘Would it look good? Would it be weird?’
Nervously, he lifted the garment out and spread it flat on the bed.
At first glance, it was both elegant and luxurious.
From an aesthetic standpoint alone, even as a guy, Sang Ye had to admit—it was beautiful.
As expected of Talk. His taste was impeccable. He had picked this outfit at first glance, and it was nothing like the flashy, gaudy stuff on Taobao. Just by looking at it, it exuded grace and sophistication.
Sang Ye’s satisfied gaze traced down from the collar, along the smooth lines of the waist, and then—he suddenly froze.
“…What the—” He furrowed his brows slightly and lifted a section of fabric at the side. “Why is the slit so high? Can it even be this high?”
So, despite the outfit’s elegant exterior, it actually hid a daring secret—the slit went all the way up to the thigh.
How was this even wearable?
Talk probably hadn’t noticed when he picked it, right?
Just then, Sang Ye’s phone vibrated. He picked it up to check—it was a message from Tan Mo, asking if he had retrieved the package.
Sang Ye sat down cross-legged on the floor and replied.
S.: [Yeah, I got it.]
After a moment of hesitation, he quickly typed out another message.
S.: [You don’t need to come out. I’ll grab your package for you when I head back. Just send me the pickup code.]
Tan Mo leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin with his fingers for a moment before replying.
T.: [What if my package also has something you’re not supposed to see?]
Sang Ye: “…………”
He could practically feel the resentment in Tan Mo’s message.
T.: [If you see what’s inside, should I just stop playing with you too?]
Sang Ye’s face instantly grew warm. He knew Tan Mo was getting back at him, but instead of feeling annoyed, he felt a strange, tingling itch deep inside—something about it was oddly exhilarating.
Maybe it was because he knew Tan Mo was teasing him on purpose—and a man as aloof as Tan Mo never played around like this with anyone else.
Sang Ye bit his lip slightly, almost pouting like a spoiled child.
S.: [Then don’t send it! Come get it yourself!]
The next second—
Tan Mo sent over two copied messages.
Sang Ye couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from lifting.
T.: [What package did you just pick up? Acting all secretive.]
Sang Ye glanced at the high-slit women’s outfit spread out on his bed, his face heating up even more. No way was he telling Tan Mo.
But then—
T.: [Could it be… the dress has arrived?]
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat. He darted his eyes around the room, half-wondering if there was a hidden camera somewhere. Quickly steadying himself, he was just about to reply “No, it hasn’t”—
T.: [Where are you right now?]
S.: [My room.]
S.: [Why?]
T.: [Are you admiring your new dress with the door shut? 😊]
A shiver ran down Sang Ye’s spine.
How does Talk know everything?!
He shot up from the floor in a panic, leaving the dress forgotten on the bed, and rushed toward the door.
S.: [No! I just came back to grab my power bank! Stop your wild imagination!]
Tan Mo chuckled.
If there’s nothing, then there’s nothing.
He was just making baseless guesses anyway.
Less than ten minutes later, Sang Ye returned to the practice room, slightly out of breath, carrying two package boxes. He dumped them all onto the desk between their seats.
Tan Mo glanced at him and said, “Thanks. That was a lot of trouble.”
The afternoon sun was scorching. Sang Ye’s cheeks were flushed red from the heat. He plopped into his seat, tugging at his collar to fan himself. Just as he was about to lift it to wipe the sweat off his face, a pack of tissues landed on his keyboard.
Sang Ye froze mid-action, let go of his collar, and obediently used the tissue to wipe his sweat. Then, he grabbed a nearby bottle of water and twisted the cap open.
At that moment, Tan Mo took out a box cutter and began slicing open his package. Sang Ye instinctively glanced in his direction.
Watching someone else open a package in front of him always sparked a bit of curiosity.
But instead of letting him see, Tan Mo turned the box away from him, shielding it from view. His indifferent voice drifted over from behind the chair—
“No peeking. Or I won’t play with you anymore.”
“………”
Sang Ye’s hand, still gripping the bottle cap, paused. Realizing what was happening, he clenched his teeth in frustration.
Even Xiao Pai caught on, laughing as he turned around. “Brother, why do you love teasing Bai Mao so much? You—” His eyes flickered downward. “Oh, it’s just a thermos. Anyone else would’ve thought you secretly bought women’s clothing online.”
“………”
For a moment, silence filled the room—except for Xiao Pai.
Tan Mo lifted his gaze, staring at Xiao Pai.
Meanwhile, Sang Ye grabbed the water bottle and chugged several gulps in one go—too fast. He nearly choked.
He had the illusion that the whole world knew his women’s clothing had arrived.
Xiao Pai sensed something off about the atmosphere and asked, “What’s up?”
Tan Mo shook his head. “Nothing. Go enjoy your game.”
Then, he turned back around and casually placed the thermos on Sang Ye’s desk.
Sang Ye still had a mouthful of water when he saw the creamy yellow thermos in front of him. He blinked in confusion.
Tan Mo stuffed the packaging back into the box and got up to throw it away. As he passed behind Sang Ye, he dropped a single sentence—
“Drink more hot water.”
Sang Ye glanced at the man’s departing figure, then picked up the thermos. It had a nice weight to it, felt comfortable in his grip, and looked incredibly stylish.
His old thermos had gone missing after the summer tournament, so he’d been drinking bottled water these past few days.
Xiao Pai slid over in his chair, pulled out his phone, scanned the thermos, and frowned as he checked the search results. His voice was thick with jealousy.
“I had no idea my brother would ever give someone a thermos. I’ve been with him for almost two years, freezing my ass off drinking cold water in winter, and he never once bought me one. But he buys one for you…? D*mn… This thing costs over two thousand?! Is this daylight robbery?”
A subtle warmth spread in Sang Ye’s chest, but he held back any reaction and replied coolly, “Can’t you buy one yourself? Why are you expecting Talk to buy it for you?”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Xiao Pai looked utterly betrayed. “You get one, and now you tell me to buy my own? Wow! Where’s the justice in this?”
Sang Ye placed the thermos beside his keyboard and turned on his computer. “Go away. I’m busy.”
Xiao Pai stared at him for two silent seconds, then suddenly narrowed his eyes.
“My brother’s being way too nice to you. Something’s off. I’m keeping my eye on you two…”
After saying that, he slid away like a ghost.
Sang Ye pretended not to hear him. But his face was a little red. He even stretched his neck forward, leaning into his screen—almost as if trying to hide.
Talk was good to him, but…
Talk had always been good to him.
There was nothing strange about it.
It was already late at night when they finished their last squad match.
Xiao Pai picked up his phone. “Time for takeout!”
Tan Mo stretched lazily, glanced at the time, and suddenly suggested, “Why don’t we go eat at that street behind us?”
Hu Fu immediately swiveled his head, eyes gleaming. “God Tan, are you treating us?”
Tan Mo replied, “Have I ever made you guys pay?”
Xiao Pai sprang up in excitement. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
But Sang Ye said, “I need to go back and change.”
Xiao Pai found it unnecessary. “Why bother changing at this hour? Just wear your team uniform. It’s not like you’re going on a date.”
Sang Ye grabbed his power bank. “You guys go ahead. I’ll come on my own.”
Xiao Pai, eager to leave, responded, “Alright, then—”
Before he could finish, Tan Mo said, “Let’s wait for you. I need to go back too.”
“……”
Xiao Pai’s gaze turned resentful.
When Sang Ye returned, he was carrying a cardboard box filled with gifts from fans. He had been storing them in the practice room and was slowly moving them back, bit by bit, like an ant carrying food.
Tan Mo offered to help, but Sang Ye couldn’t bear to let his idol carry heavy things. At the same time, he didn’t want to reject his kindness outright. So, as a compromise, he let Tan Mo carry a small stuffed bear.
Back at the dormitory building, Sang Ye carried the box, turned sideways to push the door open with his shoulder, and, with his hands full, tilted his face up to tap the light switch with his chin.
Tan Mo watched his casual movements, a faint smile flashing in his eyes. He placed the stuffed bear into Sang Ye’s cardboard box.
The room lit up brightly. Sang Ye said, “Wait here for me—”
However, before he could finish his sentence, he turned his head and immediately saw the women’s outfit sprawled brazenly on his bed.
His breath caught. In an instant, his face turned as red as a tomato. He almost let out a scream but quickly spun around, trying to shut the door to block Tan Mo from entering.
But Tan Mo casually rested his hand on the doorframe, looking at Sang Ye with a teasing smile, his teeth slightly clenched. “Didn’t arrive yet? Hm?”
Sang Ye had no idea how to explain. Panicking, he placed the box onto a nearby cabinet and reached out to push the door. “Get out! I’m not letting you in!”
But Tan Mo easily squeezed his way inside. He reached out and grabbed Sang Ye’s soft cheeks, kneading them mercilessly, forcing the boy to retreat step by step.
“So this is what you were sneaking around to pick up at noon? When I asked, you still denied it? Where’s the trust? Where’s your conscience? If I hadn’t caught you, were you planning to just silently return the outfit without telling me?”
Sang Ye did indeed intend to quietly return it without bothering anyone. Feeling guilty, he let Tan Mo squish his face without resistance, making his words come out muffled: “Can’t wear… no way to wear it…”
Tan Mo put on an exaggeratedly stern face and pinched Sang Ye like kneading dough. “What do you mean you can’t wear it? Didn’t you pick this out with me when we bought it? Why didn’t you say anything then?”
Sang Ye groaned in protest, about to argue, but his calf suddenly hit the edge of the bed. He lost his balance and fell backward, instinctively grabbing onto Tan Mo’s wrist in panic.
Caught off guard, Tan Mo also lost his footing.
With a heavy thud, both of them tumbled onto the bed together.
A slightly prolonged silence filled the room.
Sang Ye’s wide, dark eyes stared at the ceiling, round and glossy.
He held his breath, afraid to even exhale too loudly, but faint, trembling breaths still escaped his lips.
Tan Mo’s weight pressed down on him—not unbearable, but his heart felt like it was about to explode.
The silence lingered for nearly a full minute before Tan Mo finally moved. He braced himself on one knee at the edge of the bed, propping his body up as he gazed down at the person beneath him.
—The boy had white hair and fair skin, the rosy tint on his face making him look especially striking. He seemed shy, his shoulders slightly drawn in. Their eyes met, but Sang Ye quickly looked away, only to sneak another glance back a moment later.
Sang Ye had fallen directly onto the moon-white cheongsam. Just as Tan Mo had imagined, the color complemented his complexion beautifully, making his delicate face appear even softer, flushed with pink and white hues.
Tan Mo lowered his gaze, tracing his fingertips along the cheongsam’s neat waistline, his voice quiet as he asked, “When are you going to wear it?”
“Huh? I still have to wear it?” Sang Ye found it strange to be talking in this position, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. His face flushed deeper as he mumbled a complaint, “Look at the bottom of the skirt—the slit is too high… I can’t wear this…”
“Why not?” Tan Mo lifted one of the split panels of fabric, glancing up at Sang Ye with calm eyes. “I already chose a conservative length.”
“…………”
Sang Ye was stunned. He had assumed Tan Mo, like him, hadn’t noticed the cheongsam’s daring design. But now it turned out that Tan Mo had known all along.
Thinking about it more cynically, maybe that’s exactly why Tan Mo had recommended this particular one to him.
Sang Ye felt as if he’d been tricked. His glossy eyes narrowed, and he put on a pitiful, almost teary expression as he accused, “How could you do this?”
Tan Mo chuckled. “Do what?”
Sang Ye was at a loss for words.
His heart was a mess—he couldn’t shake the feeling that Talk was being way too flirty, completely overturning his previous perception of him.
Tan Mo leaned in closer, the pressure of his presence intensifying. He repeated, “When are you going to wear it?”
Sang Ye’s gaze flickered away, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not wearing it…”
Tan Mo raised a brow. “Tomorrow?”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.
“The day after tomorrow?”
“……”
“Next week?”
“……”
Tan Mo said, “Then on my birthday.”
Sang Ye’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes flickering with emotion.
Tan Mo understood immediately. “Alright, it’s settled then. You’ll wear the cheongsam on my birthday.”
“!!!” Sang Ye refused, panicking. “Who agreed to that?!”
Tan Mo was unfazed by his protest and even reached out to pinch his nose.
Just then—
“Brother! Bai Mao! What are you two doing in there? You went in and never came out! Are we still going to eat or not? Hu Fu is waiting downstairs!”
Xiao Pai had climbed up to the third floor, shouting at the top of his lungs as he headed straight for Sang Ye’s room. The door was open, so he leaned against the doorframe.
Then, he was greeted by a rather suspicious scene—
Tan Mo was standing by the bed, his eyes lowered as he tugged the hem of his T-shirt into place.
Meanwhile, Sang Ye’s face was flushed red, his expression flustered, and his snowy white hair was noticeably messier than before.
Xiao Pai glanced at the bed—it was tidy overall, except for the blanket, which was rumpled as if someone had been rolling around on it.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he gave them a knowing look, dragging out his words in a dubious tone. “You two—”
The moment Sang Ye saw Xiao Pai’s expression, he knew this was bad. Afraid of being misunderstood, he frantically waved his hands. “No! It’s not what you think! We didn’t—”
Xiao Pai asked, “—Did you guys fight?”
“……” Sang Ye instantly calmed down, relieved that he hadn’t blurted out the words “got in bed.”
“No fight.” Tan Mo walked toward the door and said, “I’m heading back to my room. You guys go downstairs and wait.”
Xiao Pai stepped aside to let Tan Mo pass, then glanced at the rumpled bedsheets again. He nodded, feeling that this explanation made sense. “I knew it. No way you two would actually fight on the bed.”
“……” Tan Mo’s steps faltered slightly, but it was so brief that no one noticed.
Sang Ye, still covering his burning face with both hands, muttered, “Just go… I need to change.”
Xiao Pai turned and left. “Hurry up!”
…
As the group stepped out of the dormitory building, they happened to run into the second team.
After a warm greeting, Ji Feng heard they were going out for a late-night meal and shamelessly asked to join.
Since Tan Mo was paying, he had no objections.
So, the second team tagged along.
Ji Feng and Jin Cao were overjoyed.
However, Miao Sen looked a bit hesitant. Rubbing the back of his neck, he specifically turned to the two at the back. “An Liu, E Lan, are you guys coming?”
An Liu, who usually never joined the second team’s gatherings, glanced at Tan Mo before unexpectedly nodding.
Miao Sen then looked toward the silent black-haired boy.
E Lan kept walking as if no one else was there and replied curtly, “No.”
Miao Sen sighed.
He just knew it.
An Liu glanced at E Lan and let out a silent sneer.
However, as E Lan passed through the crowd, a slender, fair hand suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
E Lan paused for a moment and turned around.
Sang Ye tugged on his arm, pulling him in the opposite direction with a somewhat forceful attitude. “Talk is treating. You have to come.”
“……” Perhaps because he wasn’t used to much social interaction, E Lan didn’t react in time and ended up getting dragged along by Sang Ye just like that.
As Sang Ye passed by An Liu, he shot him a cold look.
Sang Ye knew that An Liu had always seen him and E Lan—two newcomers—as a thorn in his side.
So, if one “arrogant lone wolf” wasn’t enough, he’d add another—E Lan—just to annoy him even more.
Sure enough, An Liu’s expression darkened, though since he stood in the shadows, no one noticed.
Meanwhile, Xiao Pai, Ji Feng, and the others exchanged glances, confused about when Sang Ye and E Lan had gotten so close.
Yes, in their eyes, as long as someone could get close to E Lan, it meant they were already very familiar with him.
Tan Mo’s gaze lingered for a brief moment on Sang Ye’s hand, which was gripping the younger boy’s arm, before he looked away and said to the others, “Let’s go.”
Since Tan Mo was treating, everyone conveniently ignored the barbecue stalls and made a beeline for a Japanese restaurant in the back alley.
Then, they proceeded to order lavishly—salmon sashimi, foie gras, and top-grade wagyu beef belly.
Sang Ye muttered under his breath, “Shameless…”
They just had to take advantage of his idol.
His idol’s money didn’t just fall from the sky!
During the meal, everyone started talking about the latest big moves in the esports scene.
Hu Fu said, “I was browsing foreign sites these past couple of days and saw that JunX’s approval rating on Korean forums has plummeted. Everyone’s calling him a traitor. The funniest part? Some people are even accusing him of treason.”
Public opinion is ruthless like that.
When he was at his peak, the Korean media hailed Lee Jun-hyun as a national hero sent to conquer PCL and bring glory to South Korea. But the moment his performance started slipping, they immediately slapped the “traitor” label on him.
Of course, he had no one to blame but himself. If he had just toned down the trash talk a little, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.
Xiao Pai clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That kid took the wrong path. At this rate, he might not even be able to return to Korea.”
Tan Mo lowered his eyes and casually placed the foie gras from his bowl into Sang Ye’s. “BTF is arriving in China earlier than expected—probably late August or early September. They’ll be in Shanghai to film the promotional video for the Intercontinental Championship.”
Xiao Pai leaned over, cradling his bowl, staring at the foie gras with a pitiful look in his eyes.
Tan Mo paused for a second, then generously gave him the last piece.
“Huh?” Hu Fu sounded surprised. “That soon? They’re really putting in the prep work. Guess they’re coming straight for the championship, huh?”
Sang Ye stuffed his mouth full of grilled foie gras, a bit of oil glistening at the corner of his lips.
He didn’t have a good impression of BTF.
Not only was it Lee Jun-hyun’s former team, but back when Talk was getting cyberbullied in Korea, BTF’s fans were the ones leading the charge. The whole situation had been orchestrated by the club itself to divert attention.
Xiao Pai said, “The Intercontinental Championship is being held in Shanghai this time. It’s an advantage for us, but the pressure is huge. If we let another country take the championship, PCL will basically get beaten up right at our own doorstep.”
“Oh, right.” Miao Sen added, “I might as well let you guys know in advance—I won’t be subbing for the Intercontinental Championship.”
Xiao Pai asked, “Why? You making the starting lineup?”
Miao Sen picked up his cup and gave a bitter smile. “Don’t mess with me.”
Xiao Pai shifted his gaze to the usually silent An Liu and E Lan. “One of you two taking the sub spot?”
Tan Mo glanced at Xiao Pai, about to remind him that this wasn’t the best topic for a meal.
But before he could speak, Sang Ye, still focused on his food, casually said, “E Lan’s pretty good.”
The whole table fell silent for a moment.
E Lan wasn’t used to Japanese food and had barely eaten anything. He looked up at Sang Ye.
Sang Ye lifted his face from his bowl, looking around for a napkin. “Strong individual skills, doesn’t talk much, clean and reliable. If I needed a sub, I’d want E Lan.”
An Liu’s grip on his chopsticks tightened, his expression darkening. He could hear the implication—Sang Ye was saying he wasn’t “clean.” Unable to hold back, he shot back sarcastically, “It’s not up to you, is it?”
Sensing the tension, some of the others wanted to smooth things over.
Tan Mo casually grabbed a napkin and, as if it was second nature, wiped Sang Ye’s mouth for him.
Sang Ye didn’t resist. He simply raised an eyebrow at An Liu. “I never said it was up to me. Am I not allowed to share my opinion?”
An Liu shot a cold glance at Sang Ye, then quickly flicked his gaze to Tan Mo before lowering his head and eating in silence.
Hu Fu hurriedly changed the subject, and the atmosphere finally eased up again.
—
When it was time to pay, Sang Ye stared at the receipt printed by the cashier.
Nine people.
A total of 12,000 yuan.
Sang Ye leaned against the counter, only his eyes visible, and grumbled, “They eat way too much.”
Tan Mo, waiting nearby to get the invoice, hooked a finger around the younger boy’s ear and asked, “Why were you arguing with him?”
Sang Ye immediately straightened up and shook his head. “I wasn’t arguing.”
Then he quickly ran off to find Xiao Pai and the others.
—
That night, everyone returned to the training base together.
All the dorms were on the second floor—except for Sang Ye’s. Since he had joined later, he was the only one living on the third floor.
Ji Feng was just about to enter his room when Tan Mo patted him on the shoulder from behind and gestured for him to follow.
Ji Feng was confused.
Tan Mo led him to the emergency exit and leaned against the stair railing, getting straight to the point: “What did An Liu do to provoke Song?”
Ji Feng nearly broke out in a cold sweat.
Talk’s intuition was way too sharp.
But he felt uncomfortable gossiping behind someone’s back, so he hesitated. “I actually…”
“You’re always the first to know about anything happening within the team. There’s no way you don’t know.” Tan Mo lowered his eyes, idly tracing the lines on his palm. “Speak.”
Ji Feng sighed, feeling helpless. Left with no choice, he repeated more or less everything An Liu had said about Sang Ye that afternoon.
But when he got to phrases like “playing with men” and “clinging to a big shot”, he didn’t quite dare to meet Tan Mo’s gaze.
Tan Mo listened quietly, nodded, and said nothing. Then he simply let Ji Feng go.
—
By mid-August, two new deposits had landed in Sang Ye’s account.
One was his prize money from the Summer Tournament.
The other was the initial payment for his Twig endorsement deal.
At that moment, his savings finally reached seven million.
Overcome with excitement, Sang Ye rushed to open Taner’s official website—only to find that the ring he had been eyeing for so long had been taken off the shelves.
Panic surged through him. He quickly called customer service and struggled to find someone who spoke Chinese. After a huge effort, he finally did.
But the response he got hit him like a bolt from the blue: the last available slot for custom orders had been sold just a week ago.
Sang Ye sat frozen in his chair for a long time, unable to process it.
How could he have forgotten?
The one thing this world never lacked… was rich people.
He should have made his move sooner.
Xiao Pai finished his meal and strolled in, humming a tune. He didn’t notice anything unusual about Sang Ye and cheerfully announced, “Bai Mao, your Talk God just got listed online! The auction starts at 8 PM—only two minutes left! Hurry up and watch, let’s see how much my bro sells for.”
“…Huh?” One wave had yet to settle before another came crashing in. Sang Ye struggled to sit up, let out an absentminded “Oh,” and decided to check out Talk’s auction first.
He logged into the official website and saw that Talk’s striking photo was already posted, with the current bid displayed as “0.”
Quietly, Sang Ye registered a new account and pulled out his bank card.
Just as he was about to enter his card number to top up his account, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.
“Hey!” Xiao Pai questioned sternly. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Sang Ye’s face turned red as he stiffened his neck and shot back, “I’m doing charity!”
“…”
Yu Haotian had mentioned that all proceeds from Tan Mo’s two-hour auction would be donated to charity.
“No, seriously, Bai Mao” Xiao Pai dragged over a chair and sat down. “This counts as unfair competition. Why are you fighting with the fans? You see my bro every day—isn’t that enough?”
Sang Ye knew it wasn’t exactly fair, but… He licked his lips and replied, completely self-assured, “I’m a fan too. Mind your own business.”
“…”
Xiao Pai gave him a deep, scrutinizing look and asked, “You’re not jealous, are you? Does it bother you when other fans spend even one second more with my brother?”
Sang Ye wiped his burning face. “Nonsense!”
Xiao Pai slowly shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he pushed it away little by little. “Bai Mao… there’s something off about you.”
Sang Ye scowled. “Stop acting all mysterious.”
Xiao Pai asked, “You don’t actually like my brother, do you?”
“!”
The words landed like a heavy hammer, striking Sang Ye squarely in the chest. His breath and heartbeat stalled for a moment.
Xiao Pai’s gaze became even more suspicious. “I mean… the kind of liking you’d have for a man.”
A sharp pang shot through Sang Ye’s chest, as if he had been suddenly jolted awake. He cleared his throat and forced himself to stay calm. “No. Stop making things up.”
But beneath his sleeve, hidden from view, his fingertips trembled.
“You’re lying!” Xiao Pai refused to believe him this time. A crucial piece of evidence suddenly came to mind—one he had overlooked all along. “If you were just a normal fan, no male fan would ever ask their idol to ‘go on top’ of them! You’re totally a wife fan!”
“No, no!” Sang Ye had something to say about this. He panicked, hurriedly grabbing pen and paper. “I never asked Talk to ‘go on top’ of me! I’m just a regular fan! What I actually wrote was ‘go on top of the enemy!’ The enemy! I only wrote half of it before the broadcast director caught me! Look for yourself!”
Xiao Pai tilted his head to examine the two turtle-crawl-like characters Sang Ye had scribbled down. He burst out laughing. “Oh wow… you really did. D*mn, you were seriously wronged.”
Sang Ye slumped back into his chair in exhaustion, then quickly sat up straight again, warning, “So don’t go around saying nonsense from now on.” He added, “I’m straight. I just really like Talk in that way.”
“Got it, got it. Like how I like Jordan.”
“…Interpret it however you want.”
Xiao Pai cupped his hands in a playful bow. “My bad, brother. Didn’t mean to hold you up. Go on, do your charity work.”
Then he slid away.
Sang Ye let out a sigh of relief and turned back to his computer.
And then—
D*mn it.
In just the short time they had spent talking, the charity auction had already ended.
In the end, Tan Mo’s two hours were auctioned off to a fan for 3.2 million yuan.
Sang Ye was so pissed that he slammed his fist on the table.
Meanwhile, outside the door, Tan Mo stood quietly, looking down at the velvet jewelry box in his hands.
Inside lay a golden ring with an intricate, vine-like design, adorned with three emerald-green gemstones.
It was beautiful.
It also complemented the boy’s slender, fair fingers.
Tan Mo stood in the dim shadows for a while.
With a soft snap, he gently closed the lid and turned away.
…
The next morning, Yu Haotian came by to hand out one last round of gifts—one for each person.
Sang Ye had already received so many presents that he was almost numb to it. He was always grateful for his fans’ kindness, but he also felt it was unnecessary and extravagant. As long as they liked him, that was enough.
He had just finished breakfast, and there was still some time before training, so he borrowed a box cutter from Tan Mo and started unboxing.
Today’s gifts included plush dolls modeled after him, caps printed with his ID, and even a humidifier.
“…”
His fans were really thoughtful.
As he continued, his hand brushed against a small, unassuming parcel. Wedged between a bunch of larger boxes, one of its corners was dented, making it look a little worse for wear.
Sang Ye shook it, and a light thunk-thunk sound came from inside. It wasn’t heavy—probably some kind of small trinket.
He tossed the box aside, intending to open the bigger packages first.
But after a moment of hesitation, he reached for it again.
He sliced it open with the box cutter.
Inside, the surface of a black velvet box gleamed under the sunlight.
It was the first time Sang Ye had received this kind of jewelry box. He had gotten necklaces and pendants from fans before, but they were always packaged in plastic bags or cardboard gift boxes.
“What is this…?”
Sang Ye took it out, turning it over in his hands, but there was no logo.
Xiao Pai, crumpling up some packaging paper as he passed by, caught sight of it and grinned mischievously. “Why does it look like one of those engagement ring boxes from TV? Open it, White Hair, hurry! Who knows, maybe a fan is actually proposing to you.”
“Go take your meds.”
Sang Ye shot him a cold, indifferent glance before prying the box open.
The lid lifted, revealing a smooth, silky lining.
Nestled inside was a gold ring adorned with emerald gemstones.