This chapter is brought to you by Fatima, thanks for the ko-fi! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ
Chapter 55 – Birthday Surprise.
Sang Ye was about to lose his mind.
Do what?
What love?
What the hell is she talking about—AAAAAHHH!!!
The livestream chat went just as crazy.
[“SHE SAID IT! SHE ACTUALLY SAID IT! THIS IS MY ULTIMATE CP SHIP DREAM COME TRUE!!!”]
[“Rich lady has gone wild!”]
[“Holy sh*t, even I, a long-time lurker, have been forced out of the shadows. So, are they doing it or not? Hurry up and give us an answer!”]
[“I’ve already taken my pants off. You guys do as you please.”]
[“HAHAHAHAHA, NOT DOING IT AT THIS POINT WOULD BE TOO AWKWARD TO RECOVER FROM.”]
On screen, the young and beautiful streamer was seen aggressively rubbing his flushed face. Viewers erupted in excitement, flooding the chat with cries of how adorable he looked.
Soon, the entire chat was spamming the same ominous demand—
[“TAN MO, IF YOU DON’T DO IT, YOU’RE NOT A MAN!”]
Sang Ye had originally thought this was just a quiet, well-mannered female fan. But the moment she spoke, she turned out to be unexpectedly bold and completely unrestrained—something he had no idea how to handle. So, he chose silence, dumping the problem entirely onto Tan Mo.
After all, she was Talk’s fan, and this was Talk’s team.
But Feng Yi Yang De Nv Zi wasn’t letting him off the hook. She targeted him specifically, pressing further,
“Song-bao? At least say something, or I’ll think you disconnected. Hello? Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? I just said I wanted to see you two—”
“I HEARD! I HEARD!”
Sang Ye nearly jumped out of his chair, terrified she was about to say those two words out loud.
And yet, Tan Mo had completely disappeared at this crucial moment, leaving Sang Ye no choice but to step up and handle it himself.
“W-We’re both guys… Wh-What are you even thinking?”
As soon as he said that, the entire channel fell into a strange silence.
A few seconds later—
“Tan-shen never taught you?” The wind-like woman’s voice carried a smile, gentle and almost motherly. “As long as there’s love in your heart, even if it’s between two guys—”
“He just turned eighteen. Give it a rest.” Tan Mo cut her off, his tone flat. “Are we playing or not?”
“Playing, playing!” The woman immediately backed down, quickly pressing the ready button.
However, Sang Ye remained motionless. He hadn’t entered the queue.
“Song, do you want to continue?” Tan Mo, noticing his hesitation, gave him an out. “I was the one who got auctioned off. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can leave.”
Sang Ye was uncomfortable. His mind was still stuck on the half-finished sentence from earlier.
He knew that in fanfiction, two guys could be together. But when that idea was suddenly shoved into his real-life reality—when the boundaries between fiction and truth blurred—it was hard to wrap his head around.
More importantly, he had never considered the possibility of something intimate happening between him and Tan Mo in real life.
A vague, hazy question surfaced in his mind.
…Could it really be like that?
A deep instinct told him that his thoughts wouldn’t settle for a long while. He inhaled sharply, pressed the ready button, and said,
“I’m fine.”
Since they were playing ranked and needed four people, the woman borrowed a high-level account but didn’t want to queue with strangers. So, she called in a female friend.
The game began loading.
After a moment of hesitation, Sang Ye spoke quietly.
“Talk.”
“Hm?” Tan Mo responded.
Sang Ye’s face reddened slightly. His gaze dropped, fingers idly twisting the wire of his headphones. His soft, sticky voice carried a hint of grievance—
“I just turned eighteen… but I’m not a kid anymore.”
The rhythmic clicking of Tan Mo’s mouse came to an abrupt halt.
The wind-like woman let out a loud, enthusiastic “Wuhu~!” sounding completely refreshed. “Let me translate—Song Bao means he’s grown up now, he understands everything, and Tan-shen doesn’t need to be careful anymore. Please, feel free to pick the ripe fruit!”
“…” Sang Ye’s face darkened as he jumped around the pre-game lobby in frustration. “What the hell are you yelling about? I don’t understand a word.”
“Tsk.” The wind-like woman threw a few air punches like she was practicing Muay Thai. “Didn’t you just say you understood? No wonder Tan-shen keeps treating you like a kid.”
At that moment, after a long silence, Tan Mo finally spoke:
“Sorry, I didn’t consider your feelings… but I’ve never seen you as a kid. Not since the first time we met.”
Something inside Sang Ye’s chest landed with a soft but heavy thud.
The wind-like woman became visibly excited. “Wait, what? Am I hearing this for free? What kind of look is he talking about? What exactly do you see our Song as? Speak, speak!”
Tan Mo replied flatly, “Jump school.”
The wind-like woman nearly lost it. “Tan-shen, are you serious?!”
…
The newly joined girl was quiet, but the wind-like woman was the complete opposite. She had an endless stream of questions and rattled them off like a machine gun the entire game.
At that moment, Sang Ye was lying in wait near a window, aiming for enemies.
The wind-like woman kept chattering in his ear: “When you two are at the team base, aside from sleeping separately, don’t you do everything together?”
Sang Ye furrowed his brows in frustration. “Can you sh*t up? I can’t even hear the game sounds. Do you even want to rank up?”
“Wahh, Song Bao is rejecting me~.” The wind-like woman faked sobs before dropping her true intentions. “I don’t care about ranking up anymore. I just want to see Talk on top of you.”
“…………”
Sang Ye’s entire face turned a deep red. His lips pressed together stubbornly.
At this point, he figured he was the one who should be crying.
Later, the wind-like woman got sniped and eliminated. Now completely unrestrained, she spectated Sang Ye’s gameplay while munching on sunflower seeds. “Alright, on a serious note, Song Bao…”
As soon as Sang Ye heard her start talking, his brain buzzed. “Do you even have anything serious to say?”
“Of course!” The wind-like woman sounded shocked. “What kind of person do you take me for?”
Sang Ye frowned slightly. “Then go ahead.”
The wind-like woman asked, “Do you like men or women? Do you have someone you like?”
Sang Ye hesitated for a second before replying, “…Talk.”
“!”
The wind-like woman’s hand shook, spilling sunflower seeds everywhere.
Just as she was about to let out an excited wolf howl—
“What?” Tan Mo responded coolly.
Sang Ye let out a small noise, his voice soft with a hint of a whine. “Control her!”
The livestream chat collectively lost their minds.
Tan Mo missed a shot, needing an extra bullet to take down a target moving in the valley.
“Didn’t you say you were an adult now, not a kid anymore?” He put away his 98K sniper rifle and drawled lazily, “And now you can’t handle this?”
Sang Ye’s face heated up at Tan Mo’s teasing, his voice low and grumbling as he took out an enemy with a few shotgun blasts. “You’re siding with her instead of me… You two are the real team here…”
Laughter filled the team’s voice chat.
Who wouldn’t agree that he was an absolute cutie?
The match lasted nearly half an hour, but because the wind-like woman wasn’t focusing on the game, they couldn’t carry her, and the team didn’t place very high in the end.
Back in the queue, the wind-like woman urged, “Hurry, hurry, hurry! My time is running out—Tan Shen, start another match!”
One more game would take about two hours, which would just about reach the time limit.
However, Tan Mo remained unhurried. “Hold on, my internet is lagging.”
The wind-like woman muttered, “Tan Shen, you’re not stalling on purpose, are you? How come Song isn’t lagging, but you are? Aren’t you two in the same base?”
Sang Ye quickly explained for him, “He went home. He’s not at the base.”
“Ohh~ I see~ I wrongfully accused you.” The wind-like woman then continued, “By the way, now that Tan Shen isn’t around, Song, do you miss him?”
“……”
Sang Ye licked his lips, regretting speaking up in the first place.
Subconsciously, he glanced at the jacket hanging on the chair beside him, a flicker of guilt and embarrassment crossing his face.
He still remembered that afternoon when Tan Mo left—how he had sworn with confidence that he wouldn’t miss him.
But…
Sang Ye parted his lips. “I…”
Just then, Tan Mo said, “Internet’s fine now. Get ready.”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, staying silent as he hit the ready button.
As he lowered his head, he suddenly noticed Tan Chunshan lying under the table.
The little golden retriever rested its head on its fluffy paws. Perhaps sensing Sang Ye’s gaze, it lifted its round, beady eyes to look at him.
Sang Ye bent down, ruffling the dog’s head with one hand. “Chunshan is here with me.”
Tan Mo hummed in response. “How is he? Behaving well?”
“He’s very well-behaved.” Sang Ye gently tugged at the golden retriever’s soft, fluffy ears. His eyes lowered obediently, and a faint blush crept across his face. “He… he misses you.”
Tan Mo stared at his computer screen, something in his chest thudding unexpectedly. His gaze wavered slightly as he adjusted his headset. “Tell him I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
A slight tremor climbed up Sang Ye’s heartstrings. He bit his lip softly.
“Okay.”
…
In this round, the wind-like woman was still as chatty as ever, constantly trying to pull Sang Ye into conversation.
Sang Ye, for some reason, was in an unusually good mood. Because of that, he was able to respond calmly, idly chatting back and forth with her.
It wasn’t until halfway through the match that he suddenly realized something. “You didn’t pay for me, you paid for Tan Shen. Why do you keep asking me questions? I’m done talking.”
“Tan Shen is aloof—asking him is pointless anyway.” The wind-like woman giggled. “Not like you, Song Bao, our little angel—always answering everything.”
Sang Ye had just been about to refute that he was not some little angel, but after thinking about it, he closed his mouth again and kept silent, instead focusing on firing a few more shots.
Meanwhile, the wind-like woman continued talking to herself. “Eh? But seriously, Tan Shen’s sexuality is a mystery. Since you know him well, can you spill some tea? From what you’ve seen, does he like men or women? I swear, something’s going on between you two.”
Sang Ye felt his face heat up.
Of course, he likes women.
But no matter what, he would never reveal his idol’s private affairs.
At that moment, another teammate chimed in, “If he likes women, should I introduce him to a rich lady?”
The wind-like woman exploded. “What the hell! I thought we were friends, and here you are trying to break up my ship?!”
Sang Ye miscalculated a jump, slipping off the railing and failing to land on the rooftop. Instead, he fell back to the first floor.
Whether it was the frustration from messing up his move or something else, he got up and replied a bit stiffly, “Ask him yourself.”
“What’s wrong, Song Bao?” The wind-like woman paused for a moment before her voice took on a teasing lilt. “You’re not upset, are you? If you are, I get it. We won’t introduce him to anyone.”
Sang Ye felt something stuck in his throat, and he blurted out without thinking, “Why would I be upset?”
They were already nearing the final circle. While dodging enemy fire, Sang Ye also had to deal with his teammates’ relentless teasing, leaving his mind scattered.
Meanwhile, Tan Mo seemed fully focused on the game. Despite being the main topic of conversation, he hadn’t chimed in at all.
The wind-like woman got headshotted and threw her mouse aside, her tone turning mischievous. “Since that’s the case… I know quite a few girls who like Talk. They’re all excellent, around his age, too. Tsk tsk, I just can’t decide which one to introduce him to.”
Sang Ye quickly stepped out from behind a wall to take a shot, but he missed and ended up losing half his health to enemy fire instead. He hastily ducked back into cover, clicking his tongue in frustration. His tone turned sharp: “Why don’t you just keep them for yourself?”
The wind-like woman burst out laughing. “I’m already a mother of two.”
Sang Ye: “……”
Then, her voice suddenly turned sharp. “Song Bao, don’t tell me… you’re jealous?”
“I’m not!” Sang Ye nearly developed a conditioned response to the accusation, immediately trying to shake off any suspicion. In his haste, he blurted, “Talk likes pretty ones! Find him a pretty one!”
Tan Mo’s fingers, which had been moving over the keyboard, suddenly stopped.
In the game, his character took two headshots and was eliminated.
On the teammate list, the ID [wlg-Talk] dimmed to gray.
Sang Ye, finally regaining his composure, steadied his emotions and resolved not to get dragged into any more pointless conversations.
At that moment, Tan Mo finally spoke.
“I’ll find what I like on my own.”
His voice was unreadable, devoid of any emotion.
The team voice chat instantly fell silent.
Sang Ye stared blankly at the computer screen. His hands kept moving, but his mind was completely blank, as if he were lost in a cold, foggy void.
The wind-like woman quickly tried to smooth things over. “Oh, come on, it was just a joke! Talk, don’t take it seriously. We weren’t actually going to introduce you to anyone—there are no rich women friends. We were just teasing Song for fun.”
Tan Mo remained silent.
Another wave of awkward silence swept through the voice channel.
Sang Ye used a medkit while tanking the damage from the shrinking zone. His brows were tightly furrowed, and his face had turned red from an inexplicable emotion.
Once he reached the safe zone, he stammered out an attempt at an apology. “I-I didn’t think that much… I didn’t know it would upset you. At the time, I just… I’m sorry. I won’t say things like that again…”
But Tan Mo still didn’t respond. The silence on his end was so complete that it almost felt like he had muted the voice channel.
Sang Ye felt both anxious and numb with cold. He waited.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Forty seconds…
As the blue zone began closing in, he found himself unable to continue playing. The game ended in a rushed, unsatisfying manner.
Once everyone returned to the lobby, Tan Mo’s character flickered for a moment—then, without a word, he left the team.
Sang Ye bit his lower lip, a faint shimmer flickering in his dark eyes.
The two-hour session was over, even running ten minutes past time.
The wind-like woman’s tone had softened considerably, and she spoke sincerely. “Sorry, Song. I didn’t think we’d end up making Talk upset or causing trouble between you two. It’s our fault—my friend and I were too nosy, asking such personal questions. It must’ve made Talk feel uncomfortable. If you get the chance, could you explain things to him when he’s in a better mood?”
Sang Ye wanted to reply, but he was so drained from disappointment that all he could manage was a single syllable.
Before leaving the team, the wind-like woman added, “I really like you two because you feel so genuine. But no matter whether it’s real or not, I’ll keep supporting you. Keep going!”
Sang Ye furrowed his brows, lowered his head, and pinched his fingers together.
He hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. Talk must think he was being nosy…
Today was Talk’s birthday. In the message he had sent at midnight, he had wished for Talk to be happy every day.
And yet, on his birthday, he had gone and made Talk upset.
He hated himself for speaking too much.
Sang Ye let out a slightly trembling sigh, his small face filled with guilt and worry.
Just as he was drowning in frustration, he felt something warm nuzzle against his calf.
He looked down.
It was Tan Chunshan, gazing up at him with wide, beady eyes.
They say dogs can detect the scents people emit with different emotions. Sang Ye wasn’t sure if Tan Chunshan had that ability, but the little golden retriever certainly seemed concerned about him.
Reaching out, Sang Ye patted Tan Chunshan’s fluffy head and murmured hoarsely, “It’s all my fault…”
Just then—
Before he could take off his headset, a ringtone echoed through his ears.
Sang Ye lifted his head and saw a voice call notification pop up on his computer screen. The caller ID was completely blank—his custom note for Talk’s WeChat contact.
Back when they first added each other, he had considered setting the note as “Talk,” but that felt too personal, more real than the idol he had originally admired from afar.
“Captain” seemed too formal.
Using “Tan Mo” felt too direct—how could he call Talk by his real name so casually?
Leaving it blank made Talk stand out in a way that was unique to him.
So in the end, Sang Ye left the contact name as an empty space.
He figured that one day, when he finally understood how to define Talk’s place in his life, he would fill it in.
Without time to think, he grabbed his mouse and quickly clicked the green call button.
Adjusting his headset, his voice instinctively carried a mix of urgency and caution as he called out, “Hello? Talk.”
Tan Mo’s voice came through: “Is the game over?”
Sang Ye nodded. “Just ended… Your fans have already left.”
“Mm, you spent more time with them than I did tonight. Thanks.” Tan Mo continued to explain, “The internet was bad just now. I got disconnected, tried to log back in, but it lagged out again. I could only reach you through my phone.”
Sang Ye froze for a moment.
So Talk wasn’t deliberately ignoring him—he had disconnected.
Realizing this, all the frustration and unease in his heart dissolved instantly, leaving only a faint trace of lingering grievance.
Sang Ye suddenly understood that the reason he had felt so hurt earlier wasn’t just guilt over upsetting Tan Mo—it was also because of the coldness in his voice at the time.
He rubbed the corner of his eye, hesitated for a second, then said sheepishly, “I thought you were mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” Tan Mo let out a barely perceptible chuckle, his deep voice softening in a way that was unexpectedly alluring. “Because you were trying to set me up with a girlfriend?”
“I wasn’t trying to set you up with a girlfriend. They kept pestering me about it, and I just got annoyed.” Sang Ye frowned, his tone turning into a flustered mumble. After a pause, he asked cautiously, “So… were you mad?”
There was a long silence on the other end.
It lasted so long that Sang Ye started to feel uneasy.
Then Tan Mo finally said, “No.”
“That’s good. I won’t say stuff like that anymore.” Sang Ye felt completely relieved, his usual optimism returning. “Are you going to sleep soon?”
“It’s still early.”
Sang Ye glanced at the time. Since they had started gaming fairly early, it wasn’t even 8:30 yet.
He had only asked because he didn’t want to disturb Tan Mo’s rest.
Setting aside his worries, Sang Ye cleared his throat and said, “Talk, happy birthday.”
Leaning against the second-floor balcony railing, Tan Mo lowered his gaze, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
“Thanks… and your birthday gift.”
Sang Ye thought of the painting, shrugged slightly, and scrunched his nose in a childish pout.
“It’s so ugly… and you actually made it your Weibo profile picture. I saw everyone laughing…”
“Why do you care about them?” Tan Mo said. “Didn’t you give it to me? As long as I like it, that’s all that matters.”
Sang Ye let out a couple of soft hums—whether in agreement or protest, it was hard to tell. But there was a faint hint of pride in his tone.
“I’ll give you something even better next time!”
Tan Mo chuckled at his childish promise.
Hearing the man’s voice, Sang Ye felt a strange, ticklish sensation in his heart. He couldn’t help but smile along.
But after a while, his smile faded, and he slumped onto his desk, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Talk, happy birthday.”
“What’s wrong?” Tan Mo asked.
Maybe it was because no one else was around, or maybe the phone call made things feel less embarrassing. Sang Ye hesitated for a moment, then muttered softly, “It would be nice if I could say it to you in person…”
Tan Mo’s heart skipped a beat. He lowered his head, pressing his lips together in hesitation before asking, “Chunshan misses me. Do you?”
Sang Ye froze for a second, then buried his burning face into the crook of his arm, mumbling, “I’m not telling you.”
Tan Mo’s voice became more insistent. “What if I show up right now? Will you tell me then?”
Sang Ye’s pale fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, his ears turning completely red. He stayed like that for a long while before finally sitting up, his flushed face still hot. In a small voice, he said, “If you show up now, I’ll give you a surprise.”
Tan Mo licked his lower lip, unable to resist the temptation.
“Wait for me.”
Sang Ye’s eyes darted around nervously. He moved his mouse, then hesitated, as if unsure or just pretending not to understand.
“What do you mean?”
As he spoke, he exited the game.
And the moment the program closed, another open window beneath it was revealed.
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat, and he froze in his seat. “Talk…”
“Hm?”
“I forgot to turn off my livestream.”
“…”
[“Aaaaaahhhhh! The little couple’s phone call is too sweet!!!”]
…
Tan Mo cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Did we say anything inappropriate?”
Sang Ye scratched his head. “No.”
Tan Mo was straightforward. “Then just ignore them.”
“Oh, okay.”
Sang Ye pretended to stay calm as he shut down the livestream. Then, after saying goodbye, he turned off his computer.
He took off his headset, slid under his desk, and buried his burning-hot face into the thick fur of the golden retriever’s chest.
…
Tan Mo drove back, spending two hours on the road. By the time he arrived at the WLG base, it was already 10:30 PM.
He went to his room, set down his things, and sent a message to Sang Ye.
T.: [Where are you?]
It took almost two minutes before he got a reply.
S.: [Come upstairs.]
Without thinking much of it, Tan Mo grabbed his phone and headed out.
As he walked down the hallway, he happened to run into Xiao Pai, who had just returned from a night out.
Xiao Pai looked surprised. “Brother, why are you back so early?”
Tan Mo patted his shoulder without stopping. “Go wash up and sleep.”
Xiao Pai was left standing there with a confused expression. “???”
Instead of taking the elevator, Tan Mo climbed the stairs to the third floor and knocked on Sang Ye’s door.
A nervous voice came from inside. “Coming!” But the door didn’t open until about a minute later.
It was only pulled open a narrow crack, revealing nothing but darkness inside. Half of Sang Ye’s fair and delicate face peeked out from the doorway, already flushed with color. His dark, bright eyes glanced outside through the slit, and under the dim hallway light, they shimmered with a watery glow.
Tan Mo narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head to take a closer look.
Before he could react, Sang Ye yanked him inside at lightning speed and slammed the door shut with a “bang.”
The room was even darker than expected—almost entirely devoid of light. Sang Ye had meticulously drawn the curtains, blocking out every trace of illumination.
Tan Mo took a while to adjust his vision, yet he still couldn’t see a thing. He could only make out the faint silhouette of a milk-white head in the darkness.
“You—”
Before he could finish, his hand was suddenly grabbed and guided somewhere.
Tan Mo looked down and instinctively fell silent. Under his fingertips, he felt the smooth, cool texture of silk, faintly patterned with indistinct designs. Pressed against his palm, he could sense the warmth of blood coursing beneath taut, youthful skin.
Sang Ye led his hand along a narrow, flawlessly curved arc before stopping. Then, in a flustered, barely audible voice, he asked, “D-Does this count as a surprise?”
Tan Mo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The sound was unusually loud in the silence of the room. He reached for the light switch on the wall, only for Sang Ye to slap his hand away.
In his eagerness to stop him, the boy nearly flung himself into Tan Mo’s arms, his voice urgent and panicked—yet, to Tan Mo’s ears, it sounded more like a plea. “No turning on the lights! You can’t look! Don’t look!”
Sang Ye pressed Tan Mo’s hand against his lower back and stammered, “J-Just feel it… Don’t look…”
Tan Mo exhaled slowly, closing his eyes in restraint.
Sang Ye, you’re really pushing it.