This chapter is brought to you by Fatima, thanks for the ko-fi! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･
Chapter 75 – God.
Tan Mo tossed the bottles and jars onto the bed and casually sat at the edge, his hands resting on the mattress between his legs. He held back a smile as he looked at Sang Ye.
When Tan Chunshan was just four or five months old, he had done the same thing—crawling into Tan Mo’s open suitcase while he was packing.
Back then, Tan Mo would pick up the little golden retriever and take him out. But now, he didn’t want to pick up Sang Ye.
—Because he didn’t want him to come out.
“I’m not going back home, just moving to the next room. It’s literally a few steps away.” Tan Mo asked, “Why are you so clingy?”
Sang Ye ignored him, nearly done peeling off the layer from his meal card.
Tan Mo stared at him for a while, his heart melting. “Come out already.”
“……”
“Aren’t you tired from squatting?”
“……”
“Puppy, what are you thinking?”
Sang Ye finally took a deep breath and let it out shakily, clearly still upset.
He flipped his meal card over and furiously continued peeling at it, his tone sharp and accusatory: “I should be the one asking you that!”
“Didn’t I already tell you?” Tan Mo said. “I have trouble sleeping at night. Moving rooms will keep me from disturbing you.”
“Liar!”
“……”
“I already told you I don’t mind, so why are you making the decision for me? I wasn’t even back yet, and you were already packing…” The more Sang Ye spoke, the more his chest heaved, and the redder his face became. “You’re lying! You just don’t want me to see you having trouble sleeping!”
Tan Mo lowered his head, running his fingers along the soft fabric of the bedsheet. After a long pause, he said, “Wouldn’t it be better if we both had it easier?”
Sang Ye suddenly slammed his meal card onto the floor, wrapped his arms around his legs, and buried his face in his knees.
—He was truly angry.
Just then, the phone in his pocket started vibrating.
He ignored it. Didn’t even feel like checking.
Sang Ye knew he was making a big deal out of this, but Tan Mo making decisions on his own like this made him feel shut out.
If Tan Mo needed a nightlight, he could sleep with the light on.
If Tan Mo needed silence, he could stay completely quiet.
Whatever Tan Mo needed, they could have talked about it. So why agree to share a room and then suddenly change his mind? Why decide to move out without a word?
If Tan Mo said it was because Sang Ye was disturbing his sleep, he might have accepted it.
But “I don’t want to disturb you”—what kind of bullsh*t excuse was that?
Is there something the team doctor can see but he can’t?
Sang Ye wasn’t afraid to go through things with Tan Mo, nor was he afraid of difficulties. But when Tan Mo said that separating would make things easier for both of them, it made him feel terrible.
Tan Mo bent down and picked up the meal card at his feet. On it was Sang Ye’s ID photo—casually taken, but still unable to hide his delicate features.
“I was thinking…” Tan Mo brushed his fingers over the overexposed pale face in the photo and said, “My symptoms aren’t something I can control. If you see me in a bad state, you’ll worry, too. So, I have to pretend I’m fine…”
“Why do you have to pretend?” Sang Ye’s voice was muffled, yet he interrupted fiercely. “Just let me worry about you.”
Tan Mo looked up at him. “You—”
“If something’s wrong with you and I don’t know about it, just going on with my life as if nothing’s happening,” Sang Ye said, “do you think I’d be happy or feel at ease? Then what difference would I be from anyone else? Weren’t you the one who said you wanted me to always be there when you’re scared? And now… now you’re doing this… Liar, you’re just messing with me…”
The boy’s usually clear voice grew smaller and smaller until, in the end, it was filled with grievance.
Tan Mo’s eyelids twitched hard. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly as a dull pain spread through his chest.
What he felt wasn’t just the boy’s burning sincerity but something even deeper—a kind of unwavering determination to hold him up no matter what.
Perhaps this was why Sang Ye could always make him feel safe.
Tan Mo tucked Sang Ye’s meal card into his pocket and said in a low voice, “I won’t move out. Come out now.”
But Sang Ye suddenly straightened his back, his flushed neck stubbornly stiff. “No, you have to move. Move right now. I’m going to sit here and watch you leave.”
Even as he spoke so harshly, he still clung tightly to the suitcase, showing no intention of actually coming out.
Tan Mo bit his lower lip, reached for his phone, and aimed it at Sang Ye. “Fine, then. Stay in there. I’ll just ask the internet for advice—how do you deal with a puppy stuck in a suitcase?”
Before he even finished speaking, the sound of rapid click, click shutter snaps rang out.
“!” Sang Ye was horrified. He shouted, “Stop taking pictures!” as he scrambled to climb out of the suitcase.
However, in his desperation to claim his territory inside the suitcase, he had curled himself up too tightly. Now, he couldn’t stretch out his legs properly and was embarrassingly stuck, flailing in panic.
Tan Mo didn’t help him at all. Instead, he pressed a hand on Sang Ye’s head, holding him in place while snapping a few more photos.
Sang Ye was on the verge of tears. “Stop taking pictures! If I get out, you’re done for!”
Tan Mo chuckled lightly, not even looking up as he let go of Sang Ye. He quickly tapped away on his phone, then tossed it aside. “Done. Now we wait for replies.”
Sang Ye stopped struggling, his face flushed red. “Who did you send it to?”
Tan Mo said, “The vast Weibo community.”
“…” Sang Ye felt his breath catch, his energy drained. He slumped back into the suitcase, looking utterly defeated. “You’re finished.”
“I was finished a long time ago.” Tan Mo crouched down beside the suitcase, leaning in closer. His voice dropped to a teasing murmur. “The moment I met you, I was done for.”
Sang Ye shivered as if his HP had been fully restored. He turned his head sharply, only to lock eyes with Tan Mo’s peach blossom-shaped gaze, which was brimming with amusement.
It was unbearably cheesy, but that subtle, lingering atmosphere between them wrapped around them again, inescapable.
Sang Ye’s gaze flickered down three times in quick succession, barely brushing over Tan Mo’s lips before darting away each time.
Tan Mo felt an itch spread in his heart from the boy’s restless glances. He leaned in a little closer. “If you keep hesitating, I’m going to start working.”
“How am I supposed to escape…” Sang Ye’s long lashes lowered, casting a fan-shaped shadow under his eyes. His face was flushed as he muttered softly, “You could at least get me out of the suitcase first…”
“Haven’t tried this position before.” Tan Mo braced one hand against the cabinet door beside Sang Ye, leaning in even more.
Sang Ye’s lashes quivered in panic. His rising and falling chest suddenly froze for a second.
—BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Bai Mao! Are you done yet?! Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs!”
Xiao Pai violently pounded on the door from outside.
“……”
“……”
The two of them were just a fraction of a centimeter apart, but in an instant, whatever atmosphere had built up between them was completely shattered.
Their eyes met.
Sang Ye swallowed quietly.
Tan Mo moved his hand to the suitcase lid. “Let’s just move out and live somewhere else. I can’t take this anymore.”
“……”
…
There were a few noises from inside the room.
Xiao Pai waited outside for a while longer before the door finally opened.
Tan Mo stepped out with an indifferent expression, but his brows and eyes carried a colder edge than usual.
Xiao Pai didn’t notice anything off and greeted him as usual. “Brother, coming to eat with us?”
“Yeah,” Tan Mo replied. “Do I need your permission?”
“???”
Xiao Pai felt like his brother was being extra argumentative today.
Behind Tan Mo, Sang Ye followed with his head lowered. Even so, the redness of his cheeks and ears was still painfully obvious.
“If you’re that hot, just take off a couple layers. You won’t freeze to death.” Xiao Pai rolled his eyes, then asked, “Why didn’t you answer your phone just now?”
Only then did Sang Ye remember to pull his phone out from his jacket pocket.
Sure enough, there were two missed calls and several messages in the group chat urging him to hurry up.
…Well, when he was curled up in that suitcase, there was no way he could have reached his phone.
Sang Ye’s expression was a little stiff. “Didn’t see it.”
Xiao Pai sighed. “You’re not even excited about food? Stop dawdling.”
“……”
After everyone met up downstairs, they headed toward the cafeteria.
Since the snowy roads were slippery, Xiao Pai handed one arm over to Hu Fu for support while he scrolled through his phone.
Not long after, he suddenly froze mid-scroll, then whipped his head around to glare furiously at the people walking in the back.
“While we were all waiting downstairs for you, you and my brother were playing around in the room?!”
“……”
Sang Ye slipped, but Tan Mo caught him just in time.
“What do you mean, playing around?” Yu Haotian looked back at them in confusion, then blurted out, “What kind of playing?”
Tan Mo stared at him. “……”
While sitting in the restaurant, Sang Ye finally had a moment to check his phone. His notifications were flooded with mentions, and soon he saw Tan Mo’s latest Weibo post.
It was still that ridiculously ugly profile picture, as if it was meant to be a joke.
wlg-Talk V:
[What do you do when this happens while packing? Waiting for answers, urgent.]
[Image] x2
The first photo was taken before Sang Ye could even react. The white-haired boy was crouched in the corner of the suitcase, gripping his knees, his eyelashes lowered, cheeks flushed red. Even through the screen, his defiant expression made it obvious he was sulking.
The second photo showed a slender hand pressing down on the boy’s head. He was tilting his face up toward the camera, on the verge of tears, his expression flustered and embarrassed.
The post had been up for only fifteen minutes, but the comment section had already exploded. The likes had surpassed ten thousand, and, surprisingly, the number of comments had already exceeded the likes.
[I know this one! I know this one! Every time I go on a trip, my cat climbs into my suitcase because it wants to come with me! From this angle, Fu Gui really looks like a pure white ragdoll cat!!! So gorgeous!]
[I have to disagree with the top comment. Clearly, the one in the suitcase is a white golden retriever.]
[AAAAAHHHH!! God Tan updates Weibo once in a millennium, and when he does, it’s boyfriend romance content! I’m drowning in sweetness!]
[The solution is simple: ship him to me, I’ll take care of him. [doge]]
[Steps to solve this: 1. Pick him up. 2. Throw him on the bed. 3. Wreck him. That’ll tame him real quick.]
Sang Ye’s breathing tightened. Any comment that encouraged Tan Mo to [wreck him,] he reported without hesitation.
During dinner, while the others were chatting, Sang Ye muttered under his breath, “Why did you have to post on Weibo… Everyone’s laughing at me…”
Tan Mo continued eating, eyes lowered, as if he hadn’t heard.
Sang Ye wasn’t actually upset—he was just complaining for the sake of it.
After a while, he finally heard Tan Mo respond in a calm voice, “I couldn’t help it.”
Sang Ye froze mid-scoop. “What?”
Tan Mo dabbed his lips with a napkin, picked up his glass of water, and took a sip. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, he glanced outside.
It was snowing again.
Under the dark night sky, soft white snowflakes danced freely. The streetlights cast a warm glow, illuminating the grass, now dusted with a layer of sugar-like frost.
His voice was low, just enough to stay unheard by the others still chatting across the table.
“Because you were too cute, I wanted everyone to see.”
Sang Ye blinked in confusion. “Huh?” Twice.
He had heard others call him cute before, and it never fazed him. He just brushed it off.
But when Tan Mo said it, it made his heart flutter—not just out of embarrassment but with a subtle sweetness, too.
Tan Mo glanced at Sang Ye before lowering his eyes again, using his fork to poke at the broccoli on his plate.
“Though, I still think it was kind of a d*mb thing to do.”
Sang Ye: “……”
“But I wanted the likes,” Tan Mo said. “I wasn’t sharing—I was showing off. I wanted everyone to be jealous of me… because I have Sang Ye, and they don’t.”
Sang Ye’s face turned bright red as he lowered it toward his plate. “I wasn’t blaming you… You don’t have to explain it like that… Just… just eat.”
Tan Mo lowered his gaze, lips curving into a faint smile.
He wasn’t teasing Sang Ye—he was telling the truth.
In the past, Tan Mo never understood why people would post photos and little moments of their boyfriends or girlfriends on social media. He used to think it was foolish—just live your life, why show off?
Now, he understood.
Because sometimes, you really just can’t help it.
…
Two days later, the top eight teams from Group A were announced.
Catch22 failed to make it into the top eight and would have to compete in the upcoming loser’s bracket matches.
On video platforms and forums, the wave of mockery started once again.
“What’s there to mock?” Xiao Pai, though young, saw things clearly. He closed the messy barrage of comments on the screen. “That’s just how group stages work—five matches a day, with each team only playing fifteen matches in total. Luck plays at least half the role. I’ve seen some teams that aren’t as strong as Catch22, yet they made it to the top eight simply because they got favorable circles. But it’s not something we can just openly say.”
Hu Fu nodded in agreement. “Catch22 doesn’t have any major issues. They just got stuck with disaster zones and lost a couple of rounds. They’ll definitely make a comeback in the loser’s bracket.”
Sang Ye, however, wasn’t as optimistic. He remained silent.
This was his first time leading a team, and the pressure was already heavy. Now that Catch22 had failed to make the top eight, it felt like a wake-up call hammering in his mind.
If they ended up with bad circles in tomorrow’s match and collapsed, WLG could face the same fate.
Sang Ye glanced at WLG’s current ranking in Group B—fifth place.
One wrong move, and they could drop out of the top eight.
Anxiously, he bit his fingernails.
That night, after showering, Sang Ye put on his pajamas, knelt on his bed facing the window, closed his eyes, and pressed his hands together in prayer.
So when Tan Mo stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing he heard was Sang Ye mumbling, “…This humble believer is willing to trade Talk’s ten years of romantic luck in exchange for a divine circle that will get us into the winner’s bracket… Thank you, God…”
“……”
Tan Mo pulled the towel off his head.
‘Did this ‘humble believer’ even ask for my opinion first?’
…
The second day marked the final battle of Group B’s group stage.
Over the past few days, Tan Mo had been receiving treatment from the team doctor, so he couldn’t be there in person, but he planned to catch up on the recordings later.
For the second day of Group B’s matches, Tan Mo had pulled Sang Ye along to watch, using the opportunity to review the gameplay with him in real time.
Even though Sang Ye had prayed to the God the night before, he was still restless in the half-hour leading up to the match. His fingers felt icy cold, so he clutched the hand warmer that Tan Mo had given him before they set out, keeping it warm inside his pocket.
The coach noticed something and said, “Don’t be nervous. No matter what happens, there’s always someone to back you up.”
“I’m not nervous.” Sang Ye frowned slightly. “I don’t need Talk to clean up after me.”
The coach was used to Sang Ye’s stubbornness by now. He also knew how strong-willed he was and that he wasn’t the type to easily crack under pressure, so he let it go.
On their way to the stage, WLG ran into Xing Xing, Fool, and the others who had just arrived at the venue, separated only by a yellow security line.
The pink-haired youth waved at Sang Ye. “Good luck, Song!”
Xing Xing was usually too shy to speak in front of others, but when it came to Sang Ye, he always got excited and even raised his voice—like a little fanboy.
Sang Ye coolly tilted his chin at Xing Xing in acknowledgment.
At that moment—
A mocking imitation echoed from behind: “Gooood luck, Song~”
Xing Xing immediately shrank back, hiding behind Fool.
Lu Qikai strutted over with his chest puffed out, while Li Junxian, grinning playfully, walked beside him—the one who had just mimicked Xing Xing’s voice.
Lu Qikai followed up on Li Junxian’s taunt, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “See you in the loser’s bracket~”
It was an obvious jab at Catch22’s failure to make it into Group A’s top eight.
Fool remained unfazed. Players like him and Tan Mo, who had been around for a while, had a solid grasp of every team’s strengths in their division. Their mentality was steady, and they wouldn’t be easily provoked.
Ignoring Lu Qikai, Fool simply greeted Sang Ye before leading his team away.
As Xing Xing left, he couldn’t help but glance back at Sang Ye, still worried.
Just then, Xiao Pai was suddenly bumped from behind.
“Eh? What the—” Xiao Pai stumbled forward.
Lu Qikai passed by and flashed him a smile. “Sorry, the hallway’s too narrow.”
“……”
Narrow my a*s! Is he blind?!
Xiao Pai was fuming but didn’t dare to retaliate. He could only swallow the frustration. If he had Lu Qikai’s build, he would have absolutely slammed back into him without hesitation.
Sang Ye looked at Lu Qikai.
Lu Qikai strolled up beside him, raised both hands in mock innocence, and said, “Why are you looking at me? It wasn’t on purpose.”
Sang Ye replied coolly, “Oh, really?”
“Really—” Lu Qikai suddenly smirked, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “And if it wasn’t? There’s no referee here, no cameras. What are you going to do, like last time…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Sang Ye suddenly shoved him—hard.
Though Sang Ye was lean, his body was packed with raw, reckless energy. His speed and strength combined were enough to send the burly Lu Qikai crashing into the wall. The force of the push even made Sang Ye’s equipment bag, slung over one shoulder, slip down to his elbow.
Lu Qikai had been walking normally and hadn’t expected an attack. His foot twisted awkwardly as he stumbled into the wall, standing there in a daze for a full two seconds.
Li Junxian, who had been standing against the wall, immediately stiffened, his face blank with silence, too afraid to move.
Sang Ye was about to step forward again, but Xiao Pai and E Lan quickly grabbed him from both sides to hold him back.
Xiao Pai panicked. “Bai Mao, don’t! It’s not worth it! Let’s go!”
“You… You, you—!” Lu Qikai was so shocked he could barely form a sentence. He wanted to accuse Sang Ye of provoking a fight, to report him! To get him disqualified!
But then, as he glanced around, he suddenly snapped back to reality.
There was no referee. No cameras.
“……”
Lu Qikai instantly felt like he had swallowed a mouthful of bitter medicine.
He had thought that no matter how hot-headed Sang Ye was, he wouldn’t risk his professional career.
Sang Ye adjusted his bag and, before leaving, warned, “Try touching my teammates again and see what happens.”
Xiao Pai froze for a second, then suddenly tilted his head back and let out a silent “Wah!” as if on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with emotion.
Having someone stand up for him felt incredible!
Bai Mao was amazing!
Ever since Bai Mao joined WLG, their team had never suffered a silent loss again!`
…
The final day of the group stage had officially begun.
Perhaps provoked by the previous incident, Lu Qikai stormed into P City in the first match, diving straight into the contested drop zone.
Xiao Pai cursed. “Is he insane?”
The group stage rankings didn’t matter much—no matter how high a team placed, the goal was simply to qualify.
NSN was currently in second place, a solid twenty points ahead of WLG. Their position was practically secured, so even if they threw one game, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
But WLG was in a different situation. Sitting at fifth place, their lead over the teams below them wasn’t significant. They couldn’t afford to lose even a single round.
Now, with NSN suddenly contesting their drop spot, WLG had no way to avoid conflict. They had no choice but to fight.
Adding to the pressure was a Thai team also caught in the mix.
During the summer tournament, Sang Ye had been repeatedly harassed by Li Junxian, which had frustrated him to no end. Seizing on that weakness, Li Junxian was now executing a targeted strategy against him.
With just one minute left before the zone closed, the three teams found themselves at a standstill. Then, all hell broke loose.
E Lan, positioned inside a building, managed to eliminate one of the Thai players. But in doing so, he exposed his location and was immediately knocked down by Li Junxian.
Sang Ye was in the same room as E Lan, holding his position in a corner. He urged, “Crawl over to the fridge.”
Just then, footsteps echoed from the nearby staircase.
E Lan warned, “Three incoming.”
“Besides Shine, who we’ve got locked down here, the rest of NSN is pushing in,” Xiao Pai reported. “Bai Mao, hold them off for a bit. Hu Fu and I are having trouble moving up from our side.”
Sang Ye didn’t respond. There was no way to help E Lan for now. Instead, he seized the opportunity to reposition behind a protruding load-bearing wall.
Commentator A grew excited. “NSN is determined to eliminate Song and E Lan. If WLG loses these two assault players, even if they manage to escape P City, they’ll be severely weakened. It’s a three-versus-one situation—NSN is charging in recklessly. Song won’t be able to hold out. There’s no suspense here. The only question is whether he can pick up a couple of kills before going down.”
As soon as the commentator finished speaking, Li Junxian reached the top of the stairs.
Before he could even kick the door open, a burst of three bullets tore through the hole in the damaged door, firing straight at him.
Commentator A: “One down! But Kay and Lulu are going all in and pushing into the building!”
It all happened in an instant.
The moment the door swung open, Sang Ye quickly backed up, circling around the load-bearing wall to the other side.
Lulu, who was leading the charge, fired wildly but missed. He and Lu Qikai split up, flanking Sang Ye from both sides of the wall for a full-on pincer attack.
Lulu was the first to peek out from the edge of the wall—Sang Ye hit him with three shotgun blasts.
Sang Ye didn’t even have time to check the kill feed or confirm if he had knocked Lulu down. He immediately turned and took cover behind the fridge, but Lu Qikai’s spray still chipped away half his health.
Sensing an opportunity, Lu Qikai pressed forward aggressively. Sang Ye used the fridge door as cover, peeking out to return fire.
[WLG-Song has eliminated…]
Commentator B: “A one-versus-three! He’s taken all three points!”
Commentator A: “What a godly play by Song! He used three different pieces of cover, switching positions with surgical precision to dismantle NSN’s push. The fact that he kept such clear decision-making under this level of pressure—absolutely insane!”
The commentators at the global tournament were equally in awe.
However, after pushing himself to the limit in that engagement, Sang Ye was low on resources and was ultimately finished off by the Thai team that arrived later.
WLG ended the round with five points, causing their ranking to drop to seventh place.
At the start of the next round, NSN didn’t contest their drop spot.
Hu Fu: “NSN was just trying to mess with our mental game last round. Stay focused, and Song, don’t rush it.”
Sang Ye pressed his lips together and said calmly, “I’m not rushing. We won’t end today with a bad ranking.”
No one knew where Sang Ye’s confidence came from, but his words reassured the team. They didn’t let NSN’s interference rattle them.
In the second match, WLG clashed with the Thai team at their drop spot and lost one player. However, they didn’t force the fight to the end. Following Sang Ye’s call, they took their advantage and repositioned, securing a foothold in the central zone’s buildings.
By the time the sixth phase of the zone was revealed, WLG’s compound was still inside the safe zone. Thanks to the loot they collected from passing enemies and their fourth-place finish, they secured a solid 12 points in this match.
In the third match, WLG successfully took control of P City, and the safe zone formed right above it.
By the time the fifth phase of the zone was about to shrink, the commentators, who had barely mentioned WLG due to their low activity, suddenly took notice:
Commentator A: “Pay attention, the next zone shift is about to happen. There’s a high probability it’ll cut north. WLG’s surroundings have become a high-pressure area over the last few phases, and they’re running out of options for getting into the next zone…”
Before he could even finish speaking, the white circle refreshed—and instead of shifting north, it unexpectedly moved to the lower right, placing WLG’s current position right at the center of the new safe zone.
Commentator B: “OHHHHHHH~!”
The audience erupted in excitement. It was an unexpected yet welcome turn of events.
With this advantage, WLG secured a second-place finish in the match.
After nearly four hours of competition, the tournament finally reached the fifth and final match.
This time, the zone formed in an unusual way—its center was positioned over a body of water, a rare occurrence.
Due to their late rotation in the fourth phase, Sang Ye and his team were forced to hold their ground in a fishing village. No matter which direction they attempted to break through, they were trapped in a dead zone.
As the fifth phase of the zone was about to be revealed—
Xiao Pai: “It’s definitely going to shift away from the water. The final circle will either be above us or down at the airport. Hopefully, it moves toward the airport—if not, NSN is waiting to gatekeep us if we push north.”
The commentators echoed his thoughts:
Commentator A: “The water’s going to be cut out. Teams are already preparing to rotate.”
The next second—
The zone refreshed.
The center of the zone landed in the water between the fishing village and the airport.
Commentator A (shocked): “What?! We haven’t seen a water zone in the Global Championship for a long time!”
Since combat in the water is notoriously difficult and was often criticized by players, the game developers had adjusted the mechanics to favor land zones. However, extremely rare cases like this could still happen.
Xiao Pai (frantically reloading): “D*mn, d*mn, d*mn, d*mn! Now it’s our turn to gatekeep NSN!”
Hu Fu (laughing): “This is unreal! Have you guys noticed? Ever since the second match, everything’s been going so smoothly! We’ve barely been pushed out of the zone at all.”
Xiao Pai: “Yeah, yeah, exactly! Bai Mao, looks like you were right after all! With this kind of luck, our final ranking won’t be bad!”
Sang Ye (firmly): “Focus up. This is the result of trading Talk’s ten years of romantic luck for a god-tier zone.”
The rest of the team: “??????”
Fueled by their belief that fate was on their side, WLG’s morale soared. They went on to win the final match.
Their overall ranking climbed to third place, securing them a spot in the winners’ bracket.
Meanwhile, NSN fell out of the top eight in the last match—missing qualification by just one point. They were left fuming with frustration.
Xiao Pai (sighing): “Man… if they hadn’t thrown the first match, they wouldn’t be in this mess. Look at that—NSN ended up sending themselves to the losers’ bracket. Sometimes, PUBG really is just about pure luck.”
Sang Ye, however, remained unfazed and repeated confidently, “It was all thanks to Talk sacrificing ten years of his romantic luck.”
Xiao Pai: “…Why are you so obsessed with my brother’s love life?”
…
With the group stage over, the teams could finally take a few days off. The winners’ bracket teams, in particular, had a full week before their next round of matches, giving them a chance to relax.
Catch22 arranged to go out drinking with a Russian team and invited WLG to join them.
Since Tan Mo was still at the team doctor’s office, Sang Ye decided to go along with the others.
The bar they chose had a nice ambiance—quiet, a place where they could eat, drink, and chat without too much noise.
Following Xing Xing’s recommendation, Sang Ye ordered a cocktail that tasted like fruit juice.
After a quick discussion, the two agreed it was good and went for a few more rounds.
By the time they were ready to leave, Xing Xing touched his slightly flushed face and stood up, looking bright-eyed and alert.
Then they turned to look at Sang Ye.
Facedown on the table. Absolutely wasted.
Xiao Pai (staring at the empty cocktail glass, then at Xing Xing): “Weren’t you drinking the same thing?”
Xing Xing (scratching his head): “Y-yeah… I even had one more than him.”
Fool (sighing): “Should’ve warned you. Aster can mix red wine, white wine, and beer and still be fine. So, yeah, don’t try keeping up with him.”
Xiao Pai (glancing at the unmoving Bai Mao, looking distressed): “Shit. My brother’s gonna chew me out.”
Tan Mo had been waiting at the street corner near their housing complex for a while.
From a distance, he saw a group of ten or so people get out of the car.
Among them was Sang Ye—being propped up by Xiao Pai and Hu Fu.
Tan Mo took Sang Ye from them, instinctively wrapping an arm around his waist, his gaze icy as it swept over the other three WLG members.
No one dared meet his eyes, instead sneaking out their tongues in silent guilt.
Tan Mo carried Sang Ye back to his room and laid him on the bed. To make him more comfortable, he helped him take off his thick outer coat.
Just as Tan Mo straightened up to go get some water—
A pale, delicate hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve.
Tan Mo fell silent and looked over.
At some point, the boy had woken up. Lying there with his head tilted slightly, his face was flushed red, and his usually dark, sharp eyes were now hazy, carrying a hint of a smile as he gazed at him.
How good did he look?
Good enough to make someone want to commit a crime.
Tan Mo ignored him, brushed his hand away, and turned to leave.
—But his shirt hem was caught.
Tan Mo paused, grabbed the wandering hand, and tossed it aside.
—Only for his own hand to be grabbed in return.
“……”
This was next-level clinginess—no matter how hard he tried to shake him off, he just wouldn’t let go.
Tan Mo turned around and got straight to the point. “Sang Ye, what’s your deal?”
Sang Ye beckoned him closer. “Come here.”
There was a hint of mystery in his tone, like he had some little secret that had to be whispered directly into his ear.
Tan Mo didn’t suspect anything and leaned in.
In an instant, the boy’s arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders like vines, and a pair of burning hot lips pressed against his.
Tan Mo’s breath hitched, and he instinctively dropped to one knee on the bed.
Two seconds later—
Tan Mo pushed Sang Ye away and propped himself up. “Wait.”
Sang Ye furrowed his brows, letting out a dissatisfied hum from his nose.
Tan Mo reached for his phone on the bedside table, turned on the video recording, and aimed it at Sang Ye beneath him.
His usually sharp features were tinged with a faint flush, but his tone remained indifferent—almost ruthlessly cold:
“Beg me.”
Sang Ye tilted his head in confusion, his gaze falling on the rear camera of the phone.
Tan Mo urged, “Hurry up.”
Sang Ye lazily waved a hand, completely ignoring him.
Smack!
The phone fell to the ground, and from the sound of it, something had cracked.
Tan Mo glanced down at the floor.
In that unguarded moment, a pair of slender, pale fingers grabbed his collar and yanked him downward.
Like a vine, Sang Ye wrapped around Tan Mo once more. Growing impatient, he pouted and let out a soft, whining plea in a sweet, childish tone:
“Oh merciful, compassionate God… I’m begging you…”
“……”