Chapter 74 – Go Away.
Almost as soon as the Weibo post was updated, the comments started rolling in.
[Awooo! Song-bao’s figurine is so cute!]
[Spotted Tan-shen! The person in the background is Tan-shen, right? So handsome, so handsome, so handsome!]
[What are the little couple up to today?]
[He could have just posted Tan-shen, but no—he had to put a figurine in front to pretend otherwise. Afraid our hearts can’t handle it, huh?]
[…]
Sang Ye scrolled through two pages of comments, feeling both guilty and nervous. He put away his phone and walked over to find Tan Mo.
Tan Mo let go of his pen, took the disposable cup from his mouth, and reached for his phone. “Done?”
Sang Ye hummed in response and leaned in to check the postcard Tan Mo had written. The elegant, powerful handwriting read: [Wishing you and your family happiness.]
“……”
All technique, no emotion.
Tan Mo unlocked his phone to check the photos Sang Ye had chosen. In the pictures, the boy’s soft, fluffy white hair had two little devil horns peeking through. His skin was snow-white, and a smudge of red was on the corner of his lips. Since the photos were taken in a burst, his expressions were lively and natural. In one particular shot, his eyes sparkled brightly as he gazed past the camera.
Like an innocent yet mischievous little devil.
Tan Mo stared at the pictures for a moment, then closed his phone.
No nine-photo collage.
He was keeping them to himself.
Sang Ye looked up. “Write a postcard for me too.”
Tan Mo replied, “Write it yourself.”
Sang Ye pouted, clearly unhappy. He huffed, stepped forward, and declared, “My handwriting is ugly!”
Tan Mo pushed the boy—who was practically glued to him—a little away. “Stop acting cute. All you do is flirt, flirt, flirt, and never take responsibility.”
Sang Ye’s face turned red. He quieted down, turned to the table, and picked up a pen, staring at the blank postcard in deep thought.
He had no idea what to write for the fans.
Tan Mo watched him from the side, amusement flashing in his eyes. He took the pen from Sang Ye’s hand, nudged him aside gently, and sighed. “I’ll do it for you.”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, trying to hide his smile, and handed the postcard to Tan Mo.
But instead of taking it, Tan Mo dragged over the postcard he had already written on and continued writing above his original message.
Curious, Sang Ye tilted his head and watched.
At the top of the card, two lines above his previous words, Tan Mo’s elegant handwriting flowed smoothly across the paper:
— “In Berlin, the day after the first snow, with the one I love.”
— “Wishing you and your family happiness.”
…
Sang Ye lingered by the wall for a long time, the toe of his shoe rubbing against the floor. He hesitated until the last of the team handed their postcards to Yu Haotian. Then, dragging his feet, he finally walked over and handed his in.
Yu Haotian took the postcard, counted the stack in his hands, and said, “Just waiting on Tan Mo’s now.”
Sang Ye took a deep breath, opened his mouth slightly, and said, “That’s his.”
Yu Haotian looked up. “Then where’s yours?”
Sang Ye pointed at the card, his hands moving up and down, unsure of where to put them. “This… this one’s mine too.”
“???”
Yu Haotian looked more closely at the postcard. After scanning the words written on it, he turned to Sang Ye with a long, knowing sigh.
“You two really are something.”
Sang Ye’s face burned bright red, and he bolted.
That night, Yu Haotian posted four high-quality images of postcards on the official team page. The photos only showed the scenic side of the postcards, not the handwritten messages.
WLG Esports Club SH V:
[Support our players in the World Championship! Repost and comment to enter the giveaway. Check out the messages from @WLGPi, @WLG_hufu, @WLGelan, @wlg-Talk, and @wlg-Song written on-site at the tournament~]
@RapIsReal: [Why are there only four postcards when there are five players? Is one missing? Is the official account hiding something big?]
WLG Esports Club SH replied to @RapIsReal: [If you win the giveaway, you’ll find out what the big secret is~ 😜]
…
At six in the evening, a local restaurant in the community was packed with people dressed in all sorts of eccentric costumes.
Since Halloween culture wasn’t deeply ingrained in the Asia-Pacific region, the players’ outfits were relatively modest.
Meanwhile, the Western teams were much more adventurous—there were all kinds of costumes, including men dressed as nurses. They fully embraced the festive party atmosphere.
When Team HK Tough Guys made their entrance, they triggered a wave of cheers. Four burly, bearded men had dressed up as Elsa, Jasmine, Belle, and Ariel. As they strutted past, flipping their wigs, the effect was both amusing and slightly unsettling.
As Sang Ye and Tan Mo wove through the crowd, they frequently caught the attention of onlookers. People whispered in mixed languages from different countries.
“That’s Talk, the captain of last year’s championship-winning team, WLG.”
“I know him. But who’s the beautiful Eastern doll beside him?”
“No idea, but I’ve seen them together several times. He’s always glued to Talk’s side…”
During the first half of the event, everyone was busy taking photos with their favorite players, moving around and chatting with one another.
The room was dimly lit, with ghostly blue beams of light sweeping across the space, creating an eerie Halloween atmosphere.
After finishing a photo with a Norwegian player, Tan Mo unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons and took a gulp of ice water, feeling a little unwell.
He decided to head back and was about to call Sang Ye when he realized they had gotten separated amidst the constant flow of people asking for photos.
Tan Mo made his way through the main hall to the adjacent lounge. Thanks to his height, he had an advantage—one quick scan of the crowd, and he immediately spotted Sang Ye standing by the fireplace.
Standing opposite Sang Ye was none other than the French guy who had once said, “Even the sun, moon, and stars would pale in your presence.”
The two were huddled over their phones, typing for a while before lifting their screens to show each other—chatting via a translation app.
The dim, flickering orange-red flames cast a warm glow on Sang Ye’s small face, reflecting in Tan Mo’s eyes as the only warm color in the entire scene.
After reading the French man’s phone screen, a soft flush crept onto Sang Ye’s cheeks, and he nodded slightly.
Tan Mo took another sip of ice water and continued staring in Sang Ye’s direction for a while. The dim lighting concealed the emotions in his eyes, but he didn’t step forward to interrupt.
Some things could be discussed behind closed doors.
He pulled out his phone, opened WeChat, and was about to text Sang Ye to let him know he was leaving early.
Just then, all the lights in the venue suddenly went out, and the music stopped. The loud chatter in the room was instantly suppressed with a collective whoosh!
Everyone was left in pitch darkness, exchanging confused glances, unsure of what had happened.
Xiao Pai, who had been leaning against the doorway chatting with Hu Fu, muttered, “Power outage? Should we call someone to fix it?”
Before he could react, a sharp, ear-piercing scream suddenly rang out from behind him.
Xiao Pai flinched, his shoulders tensing as he quickly turned around.
At that exact moment, the door beside him swung open, and in the pitch-black darkness, a shadowy figure collapsed onto him.
“AHHHHHH!”
Feeling long strands of hair brushing against him, Xiao Pai shrieked hysterically, instantly leaping onto Hu Fu in sheer terror.
With a loud thud, the figure crashed onto the floor.
A chain reaction of chaos erupted around them—people screamed, others laughed, and the entire room was thrown into disarray.
Then, the lights suddenly flickered back on, revealing the scene.
Some people were still screaming, while others burst into laughter.
Everyone looked toward the floor, where a life-sized plastic mannequin from a department store lay sprawled out, its wig slightly askew.
Curses in various languages filled the air.
Dressed as a ghost draped in a white sheet, Xiao Pai’s face was drained of all color as he gasped, “D*mn it, nearly scared me to death…”
Once the initial shock passed, people laughed it off as a harmless Halloween prank.
The crowd quickly moved on, caught up in the festive spirit—no one noticed that after the prank, someone stood frozen in place, unable to move for a long time.
Tan Mo watched through the shifting gaps in the crowd, his gaze fixed on the mannequin still lying on the floor.
The plastic figure wore a frozen, artificial smile, its vacant eyes locking onto his in an eerie stare.
But in that instant, something shifted—within that lifeless gaze surged an indescribable wave of sorrow.
The lights around them dimmed once again.
And with them, all the light in Tan Mo’s world began to fade, gradually darkening until it was completely extinguished.
..
The noisy sounds of the party faded into the distance as Tan Mo walked down the long hallway leading to the back door.
His cape had slipped off his shoulders, dragging along the floor. He hung his head, his tall frame weighed down with exhaustion. With every step, his shoes sank into the soft, muddy ground beneath him, the earth seemingly ready to swallow him whole.
His sharply tailored dress pants bent at the knees as he stumbled into the wall. His brow struck the hard surface, and like a puppet whose strings had been cut, he collapsed, sinking onto his knees.
…
The boy was afraid. And deeply sad.
But he couldn’t look back.
He knew someone was chasing him. He also knew that inside that house behind him… was his mother, who had taken her last breath.
…
Sang Ye searched the restaurant up and down, but he couldn’t find him anywhere.
Grabbing Xiao Pai—who was bouncing in the middle of the crowd on the dance floor—he shouted a question.
The music was too loud. Xiao Pai leaned in, cupping his ear. “Huh—?”
Sang Ye raised his voice. “Where’s Talk?”
Xiao Pai shook his head cluelessly.
Sang Ye let go of him.
Draped in a white sheet, Xiao Pai went right back to bouncing—now resembling an oversized jellyfish.
Sang Ye removed his small horned headband, grabbed his coat, and left the party.
Outside, light snow had begun to fall again. He looked up at the pitch-dark sky, tiny snowflakes landing on his face. They melted instantly, cold against his skin.
As he walked back to the dorms, he pulled out his phone to check for messages.
There were none from Tan Mo.
Frowning, he called him directly, but the phone rang and rang, never connecting.
The night air was bitterly cold. Within minutes, Sang Ye’s fingers had gone numb.
He pressed them against his lips for warmth before sending Tan Mo a message.
S.: [Where are you?]
By the time it was nearly ten at night, Sang Ye heard a knock at the door.
He opened it to find Tan Mo standing there.
His hair was damp and slightly disheveled, his eyes were red-rimmed, and a dark bruise had formed at the corner of his left eyebrow. There was also a faint red scrape on his cheekbone. Aside from that, his face was completely devoid of color.
Sang Ye opened his mouth. “You…”
Tan Mo leaned in and embraced him.
A shiver ran down Sang Ye’s spine. Tan Mo’s cheek was cold, his neck was cold, even his breath—escaping from beneath his collar—was cold. The hands pressed against Sang Ye’s back, even through the cotton fabric of his sleepwear, were ice-cold.
The man was covered in frost, his whole body damp, like a lost dog caught in a snowstorm.
Sang Ye staggered back, struggling to support Tan Mo’s full weight as he guided him inside and closed the door.
Tan Mo took a shower, dried himself off, and gradually warmed up. The whole process took nearly an hour.
Sang Ye poured him a cup of hot water and placed it on the bedside table before glancing toward the bed.
Tan Mo lay there with an arm draped over his eyes. His face was still pale, strands of black hair scattered against the pristine white pillow.
Sang Ye didn’t know exactly what had happened, but for Tan Mo to suddenly end up like this, it had to be related to the prank at the party.
He switched off the bedside lamp to let Tan Mo rest properly.
On the nightstand, a moon lamp hovered gently above its base, slowly rotating and emitting a dim, warm glow.
Just as Sang Ye was hesitating over whether to turn it off too, Tan Mo moved his arm away from his eyes and said, “Can you leave a light on for me?”
Sang Ye withdrew his hand, straightening up at the bedside. “Oh… Then I’ll leave it on.”
Tan Mo glanced at the moon lamp and added, “It might stay on all night… Do you want me to arrange another room for you?”
Sang Ye frowned slightly, then walked back to his own bed and sat down heavily. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A trace of helplessness flickered in Tan Mo’s eyes as he turned to look at him. “Do you need an eye mask?”
“I have one.” Sang Ye flattened his pillow and patted it. “Besides, even without it, I can sleep with the light on.”
Between their beds, a tall and slender vase stood on the nightstand.
Through the cluster of daffodils between them, Tan Mo watched as Sang Ye lay down and pulled the blanket over himself. His gaze softened slightly. “Go to sleep. Goodnight. If the light bothers you, just let me know.”
Sang Ye suddenly sat up straight and asked, “Will I be disturbing you by staying here?”
He remembered Tan Mo mentioning before that he sometimes had trouble sleeping at night, which was why he usually didn’t share a room with others.
Tan Mo tugged at the corner of his lips in a faint smile. “No.”
Only then did Sang Ye relax and lie back down, burrowing into the blanket. After a pause, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Tan Mo stared at the ceiling, his expression hollow. “I remembered something from the past.”
Sang Ye knew he had experienced a shooting as a child. He clutched the blanket, rubbed his nose against it, and lowered his voice. “Do you need me to come over?”
Tan Mo was silent for a moment before turning his face to look at him. “Are you staying with me tonight?”
Sang Ye’s legs curled slightly under the blanket, and warmth crept up his face.
He didn’t know how to comfort Tan Mo, but he also didn’t want to do nothing.
“…Mm.” His voice was as soft as a mosquito’s hum. But then, afraid of any misunderstanding, he quickly poked his head out, his face flushed, and clarified, “Just to sleep. Only sleep.”
Tan Mo looked at him for two seconds.
“Then don’t come.”
“…”
Sang Ye didn’t say a word, just huffed and flopped onto his side with exaggerated movements, turning his back to Tan Mo and pulling the blanket up to cover half his face.
And like that, he lay still for three minutes.
Although the room was quiet and the dim light wasn’t strong enough to be irritating, he found himself unable to sleep as easily as usual. His mind was a mess.
He cautiously lifted his head and turned to glance behind him.
There, he saw Tan Mo still lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even blink, like a puppet that had lost its soul.
Maybe, in the past, Tan Mo had spent his sleepless nights just like this—lying awake with his eyes open.
Sang Ye propped himself up, grabbed his pillow, got out of bed, and padded over to Tan Mo’s bed in his cotton slippers.
Tan Mo looked at him.
Only then did Sang Ye notice the faint traces of moisture at the corners of Tan Mo’s eyes—just like when he first opened the door, those peach blossom eyes glistening with dampness.
Sang Ye climbed onto the bed.
Tan Mo shifted to make room for him.
Once Sang Ye slid under the covers and got comfortable, Tan Mo closed the space between them, burying his face against Sang Ye’s chest, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of the boy’s pajamas.
“Turn off the light,” Tan Mo said, his voice hoarse.
Sang Ye reached over and tapped the touch-sensitive switch on the moon lamp’s base.
The room fell into darkness, and Sang Ye let out a quiet breath of relief.
The two lay in silence, facing each other, wrapped in an embrace.
Sang Ye idly twirled a strand of Tan Mo’s hair around his fingertip and asked in a hushed voice, “What’s wrong?”
Tan Mo pressed even closer, and after a long pause, his voice was thick with emotion.
“I miss my mom.”
It was the first time Sang Ye had ever heard Tan Mo mention his mother. Without thinking, he almost asked, “She…”
But then he felt the arms wrapped around his waist suddenly tighten.
Sang Ye shut his mouth and didn’t ask any further.
Tan Mo murmured, “Song.”
“Mm?”
“Can I not play?”
In the darkness, Sang Ye blinked slowly and replied, “Of course you can.”
“I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t just your burden to bear alone.”
After a while, Sang Ye heard Tan Mo sniff quietly.
Sang Ye patted Tan Mo’s back, suppressing his own shyness, and said, “The first time we tried out for the team, you left in the middle. I was really worried and scared. I thought that without you, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
“……”
“But now, it’s different. Talk, I can lead the team myself now. I’ve gotten really strong.”
“I’m sorry,” Tan Mo mumbled, his voice muffled. “I’ll get better soon.”
…
October 1st marked the official start of the group stage.
Groups A and B took turns competing every other day, with five matches per day.
Sang Ye watched the first day’s games and felt an even stronger impact witnessing them in person.
The level of competition on the global stage was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Here, there were no invincible champions. A team could dominate one match and then drop to the bottom of the rankings in the next. The sheer number of world-class teams made every game unpredictable.
At the end of day one, BTF was in excellent form. Catch22 managed to secure a win, placing them in the upper mid-tier. HK racked up a solid 60 points, securing first place—once again proving why they were the reigning champions.
The next day was the match of Group B. Before going to the competition venue, the coach held a short meeting and said that the command position would be handed over to Sang Ye.
No one was surprised. If Tan Mo wasn’t playing, Sang Ye was the only one who could take over as commander. The other three fully trusted his abilities.
The coach gave them a pep talk: “The first day is about getting used to the pace and playstyle of the tournament. Don’t rush for results—this is a long battle. The group stage is just the first phase. If we make it to the top eight, we’ll save a lot of energy for later. But even if we lose, don’t be afraid. There are plenty of chances ahead.”
When they arrived at the venue early, Sang Ye carried his keyboard onto the stage. Just as he reached the side, he ran into the NSN players heading backstage.
But the foreign referees were extremely stubborn. They trusted their own eyes and refused to listen—no matter what. They insisted on speaking with their manager.
Lu Qikai was so furious that he almost started an argument with the referees. However, doing so would only reinforce his image as an aggressive bully.
Worried that things would escalate, Shine led the referees to find the manager.
Lu Qikai realized that Sang Ye had set him up, and his eyes flashed with anger as he glared at him.
Sang Ye adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag and stood on the steps, looking down at him from above. “If you’ve got the guts, meet me in P City.”
Lu Qikai sneered. “I’m not looking for trouble, and you’d better not take things for granted. Let’s go our separate ways, but don’t let us run into you later.”
Despite his temper, Lu Qikai was still clear-headed—this was the world championship, not the time for reckless grudges.
Sang Ye turned away, took two steps toward the stage, then glanced back. “If you don’t have the guts, don’t start trouble. Tr*sh.”
Lu Qikai’s face instantly darkened.
All the players took their seats on stage.
When the camera panned to Team WLG, the presence of two fresh-faced rookies made the team look especially young.
The three foreign commentators exclaimed in surprise, all wondering where Captain Talk was. When they learned he wasn’t participating in the group stage, they shook their heads in disappointment. Frankly, they believed this lineup put WLG at a disadvantage—sending two “little cuties” onto the battlefield would likely land them in the losers’ bracket.
“The international audience hasn’t seen Song’s skills yet. They don’t know what he’s capable of, so it’s normal for them to doubt him,” the coach said, arms crossed. “Switch the stream to the domestic broadcast.”
The domestic casters were two familiar voices, and as soon as the stream switched over, their excited chatter filled the air.
“Ah! Why is God Tan not playing again?! Song performed well in the Asia Championship, but this is the Global Championship, the Global Championship! Every team here represents the top level of their region. Putting Song and E Lan on stage feels like sending minors to work—I can’t bear to watch.”
“…,” the coach let out a deep sigh.
Since the commentator spoke Chinese so fluently, he decided to tolerate their remarks.
…
The first match featured a central flight path from north to south.
On the plane.
Based on their previous scrims, Xiao Pai said, “There’s a Thai team that also drops P City. They’re strong, and there’s a high chance we’ll contest them. Should we give up the spot?”
Since P City was WLG’s home ground, they kept track of every team that had drop spots there.
Sang Ye glanced at the map and marked a location. “Don’t back down.”
Xiao Pai saw the marked spot and cursed, “D*mn.”
Both teams landed in the double four-story building section of P City.
The observer noticed that they were about to clash, so the first camera feed was directed their way.
NSN had arrived after all.
“They don’t have Tan Mo now, what the hell is he acting cocky for?!” Lu Qikai swore as he picked up a gun. He took position at a high vantage point, scanning for angles and vision. He spotted a figure flash past a second-floor window and quickly called it out.
Lee Jun-hyun, expecting to run into Sang Ye again, smirked and said in English, “Hope the pretty boy doesn’t cry this time.”
Shine ignored the other two, diligently looting while staying alert for any movement around him.
By the third minute, after a few unsuccessful skirmishes, both teams had a general idea of each other’s positioning.
Lu Qikai issued orders quickly, “Two in the four-story building. One in each of the other two buildings. Song is in one of them.”
Lulu casually asked, “How do you know?”
Lu Qikai snapped, “Don’t ask. I’ve studied them too much. I can tell it’s him just from a glimpse of his head.”
Lulu, still confused, replied, “Oh, okay.”
Lee Jun-hyun volunteered to push the building Sang Ye was in.
With the sound of a gunshot, P City descended into chaos.
The moment the first knock notification popped up—
Lu Qikai’s expression twisted into something bizarre, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Lulu was eliminated. “Brother! Why is it the Thai team?!”
Lee Jun-hyun managed to take control of the building after securing a hit, but a sniper from another team took him out from a window.
“Shib*l!”
Shine immediately avenged him by eliminating the sniper.
Both sides took a brief pause to reorganize.
With Shine covering them with his gun, the Thai team didn’t dare to attack immediately. Taking advantage of the moment, Lu Qikai rushed into the opposite building to revive Lee Jun-hyun.
As they waited for the revive, the two quickly exchanged words in English.
“You said Song was here?”
“He told me before the match that he’d be in P City! How was I supposed to know he’d change his mind?”
“Then where did he go?”
Lu Qikai was frustrated. “How the hell should I know—”
Before he could finish his sentence—
Bang! A series of bullets whizzed through the window. Two shots knocked Lu Qikai down, followed by a precise finishing shot. Then, with almost perfect accuracy, another bullet eliminated the low-health Lee Jun-hyun.
[WLG-Song used Kar98k to headshot and eliminate NSN-Kay.]
[WLG-Song used Kar98k to eliminate NSN-JunX.]
Lu Qikai: “…”
Lee Jun-hyun: “…”
Although they couldn’t see or hear it, the arena erupted with excitement.
Female foreign Commentator: “What?! Oh my God! Song is that little cutie? Where did he shoot from? Can you guys find his position?”
Male foreign Commentator: “That was incredible… Oh! We’re reviewing the replay now—Song was positioned on a hill beyond a wheat field! That spot is outside P City’s usual line of sight. His ambush was perfectly executed—what a brilliant play!”
Meanwhile, the WLG coach was still watching the domestic broadcast.
Commentator A: “Song easily grabbed two kills right at the start! 666! What a textbook ambush! WLG landed directly on the P City hill—clearly, without Tan Mo, the young players are playing more cautiously. But at the same time, they never took their eyes off P City. Smart, very strategic!”
Commentator B: “Song just fired five smooth shots, landing every single one. He took down Lu Qikai first, then switched targets instantly to finish Lee Jun-hyun. Brilliant decision-making! NSN’s two veterans probably never expected an enemy to be lurking outside their window, so they let their guard down. NSN had the advantage earlier, but Song just flipped the entire situation—now the Thai team is about to clean them up.”
Commentator A: “Exactly! Never underestimate any player who makes it to the Global Championship. Ahhh, I take back what I said earlier—Song truly deserves to be called ‘Little Talk.’ He has what it takes to carry the team!”
As the commentator predicted, NSN’s early-game fight ended in a full squad wipe.
Later, WLG successfully rotated into the zone and secured a sixth-place finish.
Mid-game Break
During the break, Xiao Pai and Sang Ye stepped out of their team’s player area.
At the same time, Lu Qikai also walked out with his team.
Xiao Pai immediately noticed Lu Qikai’s terrible expression—he looked like he wanted to strangle the white-haired boy on the spot.
“Uh-oh,” Xiao Pai thought.
Just as he was about to run back and call Hu Fu for backup, Sang Ye had already shoved both hands into his pockets and casually walked toward NSN’s group.
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t slow down.
Worried that Lu Qikai might deliberately cause trouble, Xiao Pai hurried to catch up.
“Bai Mao—”
But just as Sang Ye was about to step closer, Lu Qikai suddenly dodged backward with a huge sidestep, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“……?”
Xiao Pai followed behind Sang Ye, looking utterly confused as they passed right through the middle of the NSN squad.
For a moment, he wondered if it was just his imagination, but— Lu Qikai was avoiding Sang Ye like he was the plague.
End of Day One
By the end of the first day’s matches, WLG, under Sang Ye’s leadership, had secured 42 points and finished in fifth place.
This exceeded everyone’s expectations—even the foreign commentator mentioned Sang Ye’s ID during the post-match review, proving that his first appearance on the international stage had left a strong impression.
On the Way Back
On the way back, Yu Haotian glanced at his phone and muttered,
“The team doctor has arrived.”
Sang Ye looked over.
Xiao pai blurted out, “Why’s the team doctor here?”
Yu Haotian waved him off. “Worried you guys might be under too much mental stress, so they brought him in just in case. It’s for your own good, alright?”
Xiao pai scoffed, “Our mental state is perfectly fine. He might as well go on vacation.”
But Sang Ye knew—the team doctor was here for Tan Mo.
…
Back at their team’s residential building, they agreed on a time to meet downstairs for dinner before heading to their rooms to drop off their things.
When Sang Ye pushed open the door, he saw a large suitcase sprawled open on the floor, with Tan Mo tossing clothes into it.
Sang Ye paused at the doorway, blinking at the suitcase blocking the hallway.
Tan Mo heard the noise and looked up. “You’re back?”
“Mm.” Sang Ye lowered his head and stepped around the suitcase, noticeably quiet.
Tan Mo wound up his charging cable and said casually, “I watched the livestream. You played really well today.”
“Oh.”
With his back turned, Sang Ye dropped his backpack, his head hanging low. His response was clearly perfunctory, as if he didn’t really feel like talking.
Tan Mo tossed the charging cable into the suitcase and, after a moment’s thought, said, “I’m switching rooms for the next few nights. That way, I won’t disturb you at night.”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together, bending down to rummage through his backpack for his meal card, staying silent. But inside, his mind was a tangled mess, making the sound of his rummaging unnecessarily loud.
— You’re the one who wanted to share a room. Now you’re the one who doesn’t want to anymore.
— I’m just someone you play around with when you’re in a good mood, huh?
Sang Ye said coldly, “Just go.”
Tan Mo explained, “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“No need.” The boy’s voice was slightly detached. “Too much trouble.”
Tan Mo licked his lips, watching Sang Ye’s back for a moment, then resumed packing.
Sang Ye yanked his meal card out from the bottom of his backpack and strode toward the door.
Tan Mo asked, “Going to eat?”
Sang Ye didn’t look back. “Mm.”
Tan Mo lowered his eyes, continuing to pack.
As Sang Ye passed the open suitcase at the door, he glanced at it. His jaw tightened defiantly, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
And then—he walked away.
But then, he stepped back.
Sang Ye lifted his foot and stepped into the empty space inside the suitcase, then crouched down.
So when Tan Mo turned around, he was met with the sight of a white-haired boy squatting inside his suitcase.
“……”
Tan Mo still had bottles of skincare products in both hands and shifted his weight onto his other leg.
“Sang Ye?”
“If you want to leave, then just leave.”
Sang Ye huddled into a corner of the suitcase, curling up tightly, his head lowered as he peeled at the frayed edge of his meal card’s cover. His face was flushed red, and he mumbled unhappily,
“Take me with you, then.”
“…………”