Chapter 60 – No Waves.
Calling someone “Dad” would mean he’s no longer Young Master Sang.
Sang Ye’s gaze flickered evasively for a moment before he huffed, “You were the one lying first. You were so shaken that you almost quit playing professionally, yet you still claimed that you didn’t care about that guy… You were just pretending.”
Tan Mo bit his lower lip and asked, “Did you meet Fool?”
Sang Ye had nothing to hide, so he nodded.
Tan Mo lowered his head and muttered, “I’ll remember this and settle the score with him later…” Then, poking Sang Ye’s shoulder, he said, “Don’t I have any idol image to maintain? Weren’t you just a fanboy who started playing professionally to chase after me? If you found out your idol wasn’t as invincible as you thought, wouldn’t your dreams shatter, and you’d end up crying to go home?”
“I won’t go home!” Sang Ye quickly declared his determination, even going so far as to stand on tiptoe—only to realize that his lips nearly brushed Tan Mo’s chin. His face heated up, and he instinctively shrank back against the wall, his voice turning unexpectedly soft. “I won’t go home… Even though I started out as a fan, you’re my captain now, and you treat me well. I wouldn’t just—” He racked his brain for the right words, but with his limited vocabulary, he could only come up with a dry conclusion: “I wouldn’t go home just because you’re… not cool anymore. I wouldn’t be disappointed in you over something like that.”
Or rather, Tan Mo would never disappoint him.
Tan Mo stared at Sang Ye for a moment. Seeing the boy’s delicate, fair face gradually flush a deeper red, a hint of warmth flickered in Tan Mo’s deep, expressive eyes. He leaned in, resting his head lightly on Sang Ye’s shoulder. “So you’re finally willing to see me as a real person.”
Sang Ye licked his lips, looking slightly embarrassed.
It was only after Tan Mo said that that Sang Ye realized—when he had first arrived at WLG, he had been so shy and excited just sitting next to Tan Mo that he couldn’t even play properly. He kept getting distracted, so much so that they had to specifically do eye-contact training just to help him get used to Tan Mo’s presence.
Thinking back on it now, it was beyond ridiculous.
But over the past six months, as they spent more time together, Tan Mo had changed from the [Talk] Sang Ye had imagined—not that he was any less cool; in fact, he was even cooler. But Tan Mo was no longer just a simple concept in Sang Ye’s mind. He had become someone Sang Ye could describe with more and more adjectives.
It wasn’t just because he had glimpsed Tan Mo’s hidden fears; it was also because he had seen his strictness, his gentleness, his moments of embarrassment, his cunning, his tendency to tease Sang Ye… and so many sides of him that Sang Ye had never imagined before.
And above all, Tan Mo treated him with patience and warmth, never putting up walls between them.
Gradually, Sang Ye had stopped feeling so restrained.
Tan Mo had gone from being a god sitting beside him to becoming his captain, an older-brother-like figure, and…
And what else?
Sang Ye felt a warmth bloom in his chest.
What exactly are these sudden flutters in my chest that keep creeping into my heart lately? And why do I sometimes feel short of breath when facing Tan Mo?
Just like now…
Sang Ye lowered his gaze to the man leaning against his shoulder. From this close, his eyes traced over Tan Mo’s slender neck, the sharp lines of his sideburns, and the smooth curve of his jawline. Everything felt unbelievably real—his heart was racing.
Sang Ye murmured, “I…”
“Shh—”
Tan Mo seemed to be enjoying the quiet moment, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing seduction.
“Call me daddy.”
“……”
Sang Ye’s face scrunched up in frustration, looking both cute and fierce, as if he was about to explode.
Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Sang Ye froze. His first instinct wasn’t to push Tan Mo away but to bury his face against the man’s shoulder, afraid of being seen.
Tan Mo cleared his throat lightly and straightened up, pressing his hands against the wall.
Taking advantage of the movement, Sang Ye hid his face in Tan Mo’s chest.
It wasn’t until he was fully hidden that he realized—Tan Mo had cornered him and was teasing him, so shouldn’t he be taking this chance to escape? Why was he acting like he was the one who couldn’t be seen?
Unfortunately, by the time he figured it out, it was too late. A familiar voice sounded nearby—
“Tan Mo?”
—It was Fool passing by.
Tan Mo didn’t turn around, replying indifferently with a curt “Mm.” He subtly shifted half a step toward the wall, shielding the boy in front of him even more.
“Have you seen Aster?” Fool glanced around. “I thought he was in the locker room, but I looked everywhere and couldn’t find him.”
Tan Mo tilted his head slightly, his sharp-angled eyes curving with impatience. “Am I your team’s babysitter?”
“…”
Fool looked speechless, completely clueless about what had pissed off Captain Tan this time, making him so aggressive from the get-go.
“I was just with your team earlier… Oh, right. Why are you here alone? Where’s that white-haired kid?”
“No idea.” Tan Mo turned back toward the wall, leaving Fool with nothing but a cold, indifferent back. “If you’ve got something to do, go do it.”
“Why are you just standing there?” Fool chuckled. Seeing that no one else was around, he cracked a dirty joke. “What, are you screwing the wall?”
“…”
—”Achoo!”
Suddenly, a tiny, cat-like sneeze broke the silence.
Fool jumped in surprise, then caught sight of a small tuft of cream-white hair peeking out from behind Tan Mo’s shoulder.
Fool: “…”
So he wasn’t screwing the wall—he was…
Tan Mo calmly reached up and pressed that white-haired head back down.
Fool felt like a herd of wild horses was stampeding through his mind. His entire perception of these two changed in an instant. Finally, he averted his gaze, acting as if they were nothing but air, muttering to himself, “Where the hell did Aster go?”
Then, like a considerate bystander, he walked off as if nothing had happened.
Sang Ye had no idea what Fool was thinking, but he himself couldn’t lift his head anymore. With nowhere to vent his embarrassment, he rubbed his face against Tan Mo’s chest, his flushed ears peeking out from beneath soft white hair.
Tan Mo looked down at him and said, “If you don’t say it soon, someone else is going to come by.”
Sang Ye dragged out his words, his voice carrying a slight whimper, “Let me go—please.”
Tan Mo smirked. “Who told you to make fun of me earlier?”
Sang Ye huffed softly, admitting his mistake like a good boy. “I won’t do it again.”
But Tan Mo wasn’t letting him off so easily. “That’s for the future. Right now, I still need to hear you say ‘Daddy.’”
Sang Ye went silent.
Tan Mo traced a finger behind his ear, suppressing a laugh. “Come on, hurry up.”
Sang Ye ducked into Tan Mo’s embrace like an ostrich.
Tan Mo cleared his throat, about to let it slide for now—Sang Ye could owe him this one and make it up later.
Besides, forcing it right now felt a little… lacking.
But just then, Sang Ye stiffly muttered, “Dada.”
Tan Mo blinked, his expression blanking out for a second. “???”
Sang Ye looked up, his delicate face flushed red. His bright, watery eyes darted around uneasily before he opened his mouth again—
And delivered a pure, down-to-earth greeting straight from the heart of Shanxi province:
“Da.”
“……”
Tan Mo stayed silent for a long time. He wanted to say something, but after opening his mouth, he closed it again.
The message had gotten across.
But it wasn’t satisfying at all.
…
Tan Mo and Sang Ye dragged their feet and arrived late. Fortunately, when they reached the outdoor filming location, things hadn’t started yet.
Each team was shooting separately. Catch22 and BTF were positioned close to each other, but they were on opposite sides of the venue.
“At this time of day, the sun here is brutal. They’ve got it nice over there,” Pai shielded his eyes with a hand and glanced toward the shaded area on the other side of the venue. “We should just move over and join them. Otherwise, when the footage comes out, fans will start saying I didn’t open my eyes again. Even Hou Yi1 wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open in this sun.”
Next to him, Sang Ye pulled out a pair of sunglasses, perched them on his straight nose, pushed them up, and tilted his face back to stare directly at the sun.
“…” Xiao Pai gave him a complicated look. “You know you can’t wear those during the MV shoot, right?”
Sang Ye replied, “It hasn’t started yet.”
Xiao Pai frowned. “Where’d you get those sunglasses? Why are you always so well-equipped? No, wait—why do they look exactly like my brother’s?”
Sang Ye didn’t bother hiding anything. “Because they are. Talk gave them to me.”
Jealousy once again contorted Xiao Pai’s face. He stomped over to Tan Mo.
Tan Mo was discussing the filming schedule with Yu Haotian.
Xiao Pai finally managed to butt in, grumbling, “Brother, why do you keep giving stuff to Bai Mao? I get nothing! I want sunglasses too!”
Tan Mo shot him an icy look. “You don’t have hands? Buy them yourself.”
Xiao Pai: “……”
Excuse me, but since when was buying things a hand problem?
It was clearly a money problem!
Just then, a commotion erupted on the other side of the venue.
A moment later, a panicked staff member rushed over to the head coordinator, reporting that Catch22 and BTF were about to start a fight.
The entire WLG team turned to look in that direction.
As Catch22’s brother team, it was only natural to join the commotion at a time like this.
Saying the two teams were about to fight was an exaggeration.
It was more like Fool unilaterally trying to beat up Gal, only to be held back by others.
By the time WLG arrived, Fool was being restrained by his teammates. His usually gloomy face was now filled with genuine rage—the kind that meant bridges were being burned on the spot.
Opposite him, a well-built, buzz-cut man wore an easygoing smile. He pressed his hand downward in a calming gesture and kept repeating, “Brother, easy, easy, easy…”
This only made it seem like Fool was the only one losing his mind.
From a distance, Sang Ye caught sight of the buzz-cut man’s arm.
It was indeed thick and muscular, exuding a steel-like toughness at a glance. A sports wristband wrapped around his right wrist.
Having seen him in streams and videos before, Sang Ye instantly recognized him—Gal.
The moment WLG appeared, Gal’s attention shifted to them.
He seemed pleasantly surprised and let out an “Oh!”, then greeted Tan Mo, “Annyeonghaseyo~” (Hello~).
Tan Mo, maintaining his aloof demeanor, completely ignored him and went straight to check on Fool.
Gal’s expression darkened for a second, but he quickly smirked, shrugged, and turned to say something to his teammates, eliciting laughter from them.
When he turned back, however, his gaze locked directly onto Sang Ye with laser precision.
Sang Ye met his stare through the opaque lenses of his sunglasses.
Gal was smiling on the surface, but his sharp, single-lidded eyes were fixed on him with a piercing intensity, glinting as if he was ready to lunge at any second. He looked like a ruthless character straight out of a Korean gangster film.
Sang Ye, though a slender and delicate-looking young man, had a naturally cold expression. His lips were set in a straight line, and his entire aura radiated “not to be messed with.” The sunglasses covering half his face obscured his emotions, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
With the buff of his shades, his defiant edge sharpened.
In terms of presence, he didn’t lose to Gal in the slightest.
Off in the corner, Xing Xing stood quietly, his soft pink hair barely noticeable. His eyes were red, as if he had just been crying.
Sang Ye ignored Gal and walked over, tilting his head slightly as he examined Xing Xing’s face. “Why are you crying?”
Xing Xing sniffled and rubbed his face against his shoulder. “Hi, Song.”
Sang Ye: “…Hi.”
Even in a situation like this, he still remembered to greet people first. Catch22’s members sure were polite.
Whenever Xing Xing got nervous, he spoke in a broken, hesitant manner, but he still managed to explain the situation to Sang Ye.
It turned out that before heading to the shoot, Xing Xing had gone to the restroom. When he came out, he got lost and ran into a group from BTF.
Without giving him a chance to refuse, Gal threw an arm around his shoulders and dragged him to a corner for a “friendly chat.”
At least, that’s what Gal called it—but the interaction was anything but friendly. In fact, it was entirely one-sided.
Gal kept emphasizing how weak and small Xing Xing looked, saying that a man needed to be more masculine. As he spoke, he repeatedly squeezed Xing Xing’s thin shoulders.
Xing Xing was already socially anxious, so the moment Gal invaded his space, he could barely breathe. When Gal gripped his shoulders with excessive force, it hurt—but Xing Xing didn’t dare say anything. Fear completely overtook him.
Then Gal started talking about Xing Xing’s in-game performance.
At first, he praised Xing Xing for being a decent sniper, jokingly warning him not to sneak up and shoot him from behind in an actual match—because Gal held grudges.
But then, his tone shifted.
Gal pointed out that Xing Xing’s close-range combat skills were terrible. A player like him was just “dead weight” to a team. In the final circles of a match, close combat determined the outcome—what good was a sniper rifle like the Kar98k at that stage?
Then he went for the kill.
Gal bluntly stated that Catch22 lost the Summer Championship because Xing Xing was too weak in close combat. If he had been stronger, he wouldn’t have lost the final 1v1 to Sang Ye, and their team would have won the championship.
Under the weight of both physical and mental pressure, Xing Xing finally broke down and cried.
In the end, Gal—acting like he was doing Xing Xing a favor—led him to the shooting site.
Fool saw them and didn’t even need to ask what had happened. Fury instantly overtook him, leading to the confrontation.
Luckily, someone had stopped him before things escalated into a full-blown fight.
Sang Ye asked Xing Xing, “You understand Korean?”
Xing Xing replied, “He spoke in English.”
Sang Ye nodded in understanding.
Nothing is worse than an educated thug.
He glanced in Gal’s direction, full of disdain. “Guys like him aren’t worth your time. If he talks to you again, just ignore him. He’s just asking for trouble.”
Xing Xing wiped his eyes again and looked at Sang Ye with admiration. “You’re so cool.”
Sang Ye lowered his lashes and pushed his sunglasses up with his index finger. “Of course.”
After some discussion, the staff decided to separate Catch22 and BTF for filming. They also asked WLG if they were willing to swap locations with BTF.
Yu Haotian had no objections.
Xiao Pai eagerly ran back to move their equipment, clearly in a great mood. “I’ve had my eye on this prime spot for a while! Let BTF roast in the sun until they turn into crispy pork belly!”
He made no effort to lower his voice—after all, the Korean team wouldn’t understand Chinese anyway.
Sang Ye didn’t need to carry anything; Xiao Pai would bring whatever he needed. All he had to do was stand in the shade and wait.
As teams began shifting locations, the scene became chaotic with people moving around.
At that moment, a large shadow loomed over Sang Ye.
He looked up—Gal was standing in front of him.
Xing Xing, still beside him, shrank back slightly, as if he had just seen a wild beast.
Sang Ye said nothing, simply staring at Gal from behind his sunglasses.
Gal gave him a fake smile, so exaggerated it was almost mocking. “Hello, Song.”
Without a word, Sang Ye took out his phone and started playing with it.
Gal’s face darkened instantly, his fake friendliness vanishing as his hostile expression surfaced.
Xing Xing saw this and shrank further behind Sang Ye.
At that moment, Sang Ye looked up and turned his phone screen toward Gal.
Displayed on the screen was Google Voice Translate.
The interface showed two language options—one labeled “Chinese” and the other “Korean.”
Meaning Gal could speak in Korean, and the phone would translate it in real time.
Gal’s expression changed as quickly as a Sichuan opera face change. In an instant, he burst into hearty laughter, clapping his hands heavily as he spoke in Korean: “Oh, I see! I see!”
Sang Ye glanced at the translation that popped up on his phone screen.
Gal continued, “You left a strong impression on me because we met in the scrim two days ago. At the time, I thought it was fate—we ran into each other every round! Your performance… ah, ah, I can still remember it clearly. I wonder, how did you feel after that day?”
Sang Ye watched as a long string of translated text filled his screen. Once it finally stopped, he raised the phone’s microphone to his lips and enunciated each word clearly:
“None. Of. Your. D*mn. Business.”
Xing Xing: “……”
Then, Sang Ye turned the screen toward Gal, showing him the translated result.
However, since Chinese is an incredibly rich and nuanced language, Google Translate wasn’t quite advanced enough to capture the true meaning.
Instead of an accurate translation, the Korean text read: “Close your bird.”
Gal’s expression flickered with confusion for a moment. But just for a moment. He didn’t press the issue and instead clasped his hands in front of him, taking on the demeanor of a school principal about to lecture a student. “As your senior, I’d like to give you some advice—”
Before he could finish, Sang Ye raised a hand to cut him off. “Lo, lo, lo.”
Gal took a second to process it before realizing Sang Ye had actually said “No, no, no” in English. His face darkened again.
Sang Ye spoke into his phone: “Just use English. It’ll be easier.”
This time, Google Translate did its job correctly.
Gal looked at the result, and once again, his face shifted as quickly as a mask change in Sichuan opera. He smiled like a man-eating flower and switched to English. “Alright, that will indeed make communication smoother.”
Professional players had to compete internationally, so basic English communication wasn’t a problem.
At this point, Sang Ye put his phone away.
Gal got straight to the point. “In the Intercontinental tournament, we might not land in the exact same spot, but we’ll still be close. With your current skill level, you won’t be able to hold your own against BTF. I admired your performance in the Summer Split, but after our scrim two days ago, even you must realize that you’re still far from meeting international standards.”
At the end of his speech, Gal once again displayed that self-satisfied smile—a cold, condescending gaze from someone at the top looking down on those below.
Xing Xing listened, his heart pounding with anxiety. Afraid that Sang Ye might feel hurt, he prepared to pull him away.
However, when he turned to look at Sang Ye, he found that he was still standing there with his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
Facing Gal, his expression didn’t change in the slightest.
With his sunglasses on, he looked as cool as ever, as if no malice in the world could touch him.
At that moment, Xing Xing felt something hit his heart.
——Song is really incredible.
Song was so fearless and unwavering that even Xing Xing’s timid heart felt a surge of strength, washing away his fear.
Gal’s gaze lingered on Sang Ye’s face for a while. But instead of finding anger or humiliation, he saw nothing but quiet confidence and calm indifference.
For a brief moment, it was Gal himself who felt unsettled under Sang Ye’s stare.
“If you insist on coming to PCS72, you’d better be prepared for a crushing defeat.”
Gal raised both hands and cracked his knuckles loudly, then rolled his neck from side to side.
“You are WLG’s weakest link. The moment I saw your gameplay, I knew that this year, we don’t even need to put WLG on our watchlist.
“Because of you, WLG has already lost its shot at the championship.”
As he finished speaking, Gal finally revealed a bloodthirsty, merciless smile—
The kind of smile that anticipated the collapse and tears of his opponent.
Xing Xing, now feeling emboldened by Sang Ye’s presence, was no longer afraid of Gal.
But even so, he still found Gal’s words too much, and his brows furrowed as he turned to check Sang Ye’s reaction.
——Not a single ripple.
Sang Ye stood there, completely unbothered.
Xing Xing’s admiration for him soared to yet another level.
How did Song do it?
They were the same age—only eighteen—but he seemed stronger and calmer than anyone Xing Xing had ever met.
And yet, in the very next second—
A memory flashed in his mind.
——“What do you mean?”
——“Husband.”
——“What did you say?”
——“Husband, Husband.”
“……”
It was only then that Xing Xing suddenly remembered.
Sang Ye didn’t understand English.
Without the phone’s translation app, Gal had basically been talking to a brick wall.
Yet Gal was still staring at Sang Ye.
One second passed.
Five seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
Half a minute of dead silence.
A crack finally appeared in Gal’s composed expression.
With a forced chuckle, he shifted his weight from side to side, feigning ease, and lightly tapped the sides of his face with both hands.
“Could you take the sunglasses off? I can’t talk to you when…”
He gestured at his face, implying that he couldn’t have a conversation without seeing Sang Ye’s eyes.
Sang Ye understood the signal and took off his sunglasses.
His pitch-black eyes were cold and filled with disinterest—
Even more intimidating than when he had them on.
“……”
Gal walked away.
At that moment, the WLG team returned.
Xiao Pai carried a bag on his back and held another in his arms. As he brushed past Gal, he couldn’t help but glance back.
When he reached Sang Ye’s side, he asked curiously, “What just happened? Did you see Gal’s face? He looked like he just ate sh*t.”
Sang Ye pulled his bag from Xiao Pai’s arms. “Why would I pay attention to him? I’ve got better things to do.”
Tan Mo unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to Sang Ye while observing the younger boy’s expression. “Did Gal try to bother you?”
“We just talked for a bit… Thanks.” Sang Ye took a swig of water.
Xiao Pai frowned, sensing trouble. “D*mn! What’s his deal? First Aster, now you—what, is he just going around picking on rookies?”
Standing nearby, Xing Xing shifted on his tiptoes, looking as if he wanted to say something—but his social anxiety held him back.
Tan Mo pressed his lips together, his expression turning cold. “What did he say to you?”
Sang Ye, cheeks slightly puffed from holding water in his mouth, glanced at Tan Mo with his dark, clear eyes. Once he swallowed, he replied, “No idea.”
“?”
“He didn’t speak Chinese, but he still tried to have a conversation with me.” Sang Ye screwed the cap back on and smirked disdainfully. “Ridiculous. I didn’t understand a word.”
Everyone: “………”
Xing Xing kept sneaking glances at Sang Ye, absentmindedly rubbing his pink hair between his fingers.
Although… Song was still so cool.
At that moment, the MV’s chief director called out through a loudspeaker, “WLG is up first! Get into position for filming.”
The group temporarily set aside their conversation, checked their appearances, and headed toward the designated filming location.
…
On the opposite corner of the building—
Three young BTF members watched as their captain approached with a dark expression.
One of them asked, “Hyung3, what’s wrong?”
Gal stepped under the sun umbrella, pacing back and forth in frustration. Then, out of nowhere, he kicked over a nearby ice bucket filled with bottled water. “Shib*l4!”
The loud noise startled everyone around them.
The team members immediately stopped laughing.
Gal shot a glance toward the other side of the venue before withdrawing his gaze, his expression heavy. In Korean, he muttered,
“That guy isn’t ordinary. He’s really strong—stronger than Talk was two years ago.”
Note:
- Hou Yi: A legendary Chinese archer who shot down nine suns. ↩︎
- the Intercontinental Championship ↩︎
- “Hyung” (형) is a Korean word that means “older brother” when used by a younger male to address an older male. Often use “Hyung” to refer to someone older and more experienced. ↩︎
- “Shib*l” (시발) is a Korean curse word that roughly translates to “f*ck” in English. ↩︎