This chapter is brought to you by Fatima, thanks for the ko-fi! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･
Chapter 82 – Talk I Like You.
NSN, having been eliminated in the Round of 16, had returned home early and was now watching the Grand Finals from their base.
At this moment, Lu Qikai stared at the screen, watching Sang Ye’s bold yet youthful smile.
But what came to mind was the first time he met Sang Ye— that cold, indifferent boy with an air of arrogance, as if he looked down on everything.
Even now, thinking about it made him want to throw a punch.
Lu Qikai leaned back, hands resting behind his head, taking a deep breath as his stomach pushed up against his team jersey.
His heart was filled with unwillingness, jealousy toward this young genius— but he had to admit, from their very first 1v1 gunfight, he had already seen the extraordinary talent in the boy’s bones.
…
An liu lay on his bed, staring blankly at the black mold stain spreading across the ceiling of his rented apartment.
Gritting his teeth, he picked up his phone and continued watching.
On the screen, Sang Ye was lifted by his teammates, scanning the entire arena—his eyes and brows filled with unrestrained arrogance and pride.
The chat was already flooded with messages screaming [“God Song!”]
No one could deny the brilliance of that final 1v4 clutch.
An liu clenched his fist and punched the bed in frustration.
Sang Ye had reached a place he would never be able to go— and it had taken him less than a year.
…
“You idi*t! You’re ten minutes late! Trying to starve me? I left a bad review! Take it back!”
With a loud slam, Liu Mingxuan’s door was shut in his face.
The delivery bag rolled to his feet.
He numbly bent down to pick it up. As he stood, his gaze drifted out the window—and there, outside the International Cinema, was a massive LED screen, half the height of a wall.
Confetti rained down on the screen.
A close-up of the white-haired boy filled the entire display.
Lights. Laughter. Youth. Dreams.
The glow from the screen reflected in Liu Mingxuan’s eyes, flickering again and again.
His lips trembled.
The numbness on his face faded—but what remained was pale and powerless.
Sang Ye had done it.
No matter what, nothing could stop him from shining.
…
The total prize money for this championship was displayed on the big screen.
Listed in US dollars, it started with a base prize of $2 million. Then, as additional earnings from the in-game store’s revenue share were added, the number kept climbing—ultimately nearing $2.5 million, equivalent to over 17 million RMB.
However, everyone knew that tournament winnings were only part of the earnings. For a championship team, the bigger financial gains would come later—from sponsorships, endorsements, and various promotional events.
Yet, none of the champions paid any attention to the prize calculation. Even Xiao Pai, who had loudly declared before the match that he wanted to win the grand prize to brag at home during the New Year, didn’t look back at the big screen when leaving the player area. Instead, his eyes were locked on the golden trophy standing proudly at center stage.
As WLG passed by the other teams’ player areas, they saw different reactions—some players sat with their heads in their hands, looking dejected, while others had red-rimmed eyes, full of regret.
One HK player, who had competed in the Grand Finals for five consecutive years, was set to retire after this match. But his final game hadn’t ended in the perfect farewell he had hoped for.
In this passionate yet unforgiving battlefield, the joy of victory belonged to one team alone—for everyone else, only regret remained.
When WLG passed by Catch22, the camera caught Fool and Xing Xing waving at them in greeting.
Someone with sharp eyes noticed this moment and commented in the live chat:
[“It’s clear that Catch22 didn’t hold back at the end—they upheld true fairness and gave their best. They honored their own efforts while showing full respect to their opponents. Their all-out battle made WLG’s victory even more convincing. Truly, they are a rival team built on both competition and camaraderie!”]
Even E Lan was pulled onto the stage to join the awards ceremony.
The five of them stood together at the podium, each grasping a corner of the trophy.
They exchanged glances—seeing excitement, pride, and the deep bond forged through years of teamwork reflected in each other’s eyes.
On the count of three.
They lifted the trophy high into the air—together.
The crowd erupted into cheers, screams, and thunderous applause that refused to die down.
Before long, the host took the stage—it was time for the championship interview.
The team lined up across the stage, ready for what came next.
The host, smiling brightly, spoke in English:
“WLG has successfully defended their championship title—an incredible achievement! Watching your journey through the Grand Finals, it was clear it wasn’t an easy road. First of all, congratulations! Talk, could you share with us the key to your team’s success?”
The team’s interpreter picked up the microphone, ready to translate.
However, Tan Mo gestured for her to stop and responded directly in Chinese:
“I wouldn’t call it a secret. One of the most important factors in winning this championship was our trust in each other. At any moment, we weren’t afraid to entrust our flanks and backs to our teammates, knowing that each of us would hold our positions. Trust has always been something we emphasize within our team. I also want to thank my teammates for their dedication and outstanding performance in this tournament.”
As the interpreter relayed his response, the host nodded approvingly at the well-spoken answer.
After the captain’s interview, the host moved down the line, making sure no one was left out.
Starting with Xiao Pai, the questions were almost all variations of:
“What’s your biggest feeling after winning the championship?”
“Are you satisfied with your performance today?”
“What was the most challenging part of the match?”
No matter how each of them responded, every answer ended with gratitude towards their teammates.
And it was obvious—this wasn’t just polite talk. They truly meant it.
WLG’s fans felt incredibly proud.
In many top esports organizations, conflicts and drama were inevitable—every now and then, scandals would break out, providing entertainment for the community.
But WLG was different. No matter what event they attended, they always displayed an unshakable sense of unity—a team with an incredible bond and atmosphere.
Finally, only Sang Ye was left.
He took the microphone.
But the moment the host looked at him, their expression subtly changed—not as formal as before. There was a hint of amusement and a knowing smile as they pointed to the ground and asked in a playful, teasing tone:
“Is your boyfriend here?”
Xiao Pai and Hu Fu were the first to crack, barely holding back their laughter as they nudged and smacked each other’s arms.
Even the interpreter pressed her lips together, clearly suppressing a smile as she lifted the microphone.
But before she could speak, Tan Mo gestured for her to stop once again.
Instead, he leaned in close, cupping a hand around Sang Ye’s ear, and translated the question for him personally: “Your boyfriend— is he on stage?”
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat—hard.
Why is his question different from everyone else’s?!
The livestream chat was buzzing with excitement, with viewers exclaiming that the host was amazing and deserved an extra drumstick for dinner!
Everyone eagerly awaited Sang Ye’s response. The question of whether he had a boyfriend had been tormenting CP fans for nearly a week!
On screen, the audience saw the young man listen to the question, then quickly glance at Tan Mo. His shocked little expression suggested that Tan Mo had conveyed the meaning accurately.
Then, the boy lowered his eyelashes. Starting from his ears, a faint blush gradually spread across his face. He looked up at Tan Mo again, but just as quickly averted his gaze and instead turned his eyes toward the host.
The host’s amusement deepened, and her gaze instinctively swept across the group.
She didn’t even glance at Xiao Pai or Hu Fu. She paused briefly when passing over E Lan, but in the end, she locked directly onto Tan Mo.
Sang Ye instantly tensed, hurriedly grabbing the microphone: “I…”
Two seconds passed. He pressed his lips together, frowned slightly, then lowered his head and kicked at the confetti by his feet.
He was feeling a little aggrieved from being teased.
At the right moment, Tan Mo took the microphone and tactfully told the host, “You could ask him in private.”
The host, understanding the hint, immediately dropped the gossip and said, “Ok, ok, fine, I get it.”
She then moved on to seriously discuss Sang Ye’s legendary 1v4 play.
When the interview ended and the team walked offstage, the host passed by Sang Ye, gave him a thumbs-up, and leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “Good taste. He is so hooot!”
Sang Ye was utterly confused.
After the host walked away, he scooted closer to Tan Mo and quietly asked, “What does that mean?”
Seeing that everyone else was walking ahead, Tan Mo hooked an arm around Sang Ye’s shoulder, pulled him closer, and ruffled his soft white hair. With his lips pressed against the strands, he murmured, “She was complimenting your boyfriend’s good looks.”
Sang Ye panicked and looked up with burning eyes, protesting, “You’re lying! I never admitted you’re my boyfriend.”
Tan Mo’s gaze grew complicated.
Do you really think that little expression of yours can hide anything?
He patted Sang Ye’s head. “Just kidding.”
Sang Ye huffed, “I knew it…”
Tan Mo smirked. “I was just making myself happy.”
“…”
…
That night, after returning to the hotel from the celebration banquet, Sang Ye lay on the bed, video calling his parents and basking in their praise.
He felt elated but didn’t forget to credit the team captain’s skills and his teammates’ cooperation.
Tan Mo, needing to grab a piece of clothing from the balcony, subtly signaled to Sang Ye that he was going to pass behind him.
He might end up in the frame.
Sang Ye nodded in understanding, rolled over to lie on his back, and the camera angle shifted.
Fang Yuerong immediately noticed something and asked, “Puppy? Is your captain there?”
As Tan Mo passed the foot of the bed, he heard Sang Ye murmur a vague “Mm-hmm” before naturally steering the conversation in another direction.
Tan Mo closed the balcony door. After grabbing his clothes, he didn’t return immediately but stood outside, letting the cold wind wash over him.
He still remembered what Sang Ye had said that night when he was drunk at the barbecue stand—that if they won the championship, he would give him a clear answer. But ever since they got back, Tan Mo had been waiting, and Sang Ye hadn’t brought it up once. Just now, when he passed by, Sang Ye hadn’t even introduced him to his parents.
Lowering his gaze, Tan Mo lightly patted the railing, feeling a little not happy.
Inside the room, Sang Ye ended the video call with his parents. As he scrolled through the long list of congratulatory messages, he unexpectedly noticed a missed message from Qing Feng.
Judging by the timestamp, it had arrived during the banquet.
Qing Feng: [The requirements have been fully communicated, and delivery can be made within 25-30 business days.]
Sang Ye’s eyes lit up with a smile as he held his phone and typed a reply.
S.: [I’ll go back next week to pay the final installment.]
The response came almost instantly—true dedication to customer service.
Qing Feng: [Alright, we’ll be waiting for you.]
At that moment, Tan Mo stepped back inside from the balcony, glanced at Sang Ye, and closed the door. “Finished your chat?”
“Mm.” Sang Ye pressed his phone against his chest, tilting his head toward Tan Mo with a satisfied smile.
Something stirred in Tan Mo’s heart. He had originally intended to head straight to the bathroom, but instead, he tossed his shirt onto his bed, took a detour, and leaned over Sang Ye, one hand resting beside his pillow. In a low voice, he asked, “What’s making you smile like that?”
Sang Ye’s lips curled up, unable to hide his happiness. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Tan Mo raised an eyebrow and moved a little closer. “You’d better tell the truth.”
Sang Ye pulled the blanket up to cover half his face, leaving only his eyes exposed—eyes brimming with laughter and warmth.
Tan Mo tugged the blanket down.
Sang Ye pulled it back up.
Tan Mo propped himself up, ready to leave.
But Sang Ye wasn’t playing fair—one hand reached out to hook him back down, while the other fumbled to set his phone beside the pillow.
While Tan Mo was indulging in the soft, sweet lips before him, his gaze accidentally flicked to the screen, catching sight of an ongoing chat with [Qing Feng.] Only the latest message was visible—
[Alright, we’ll be waiting for you.]
Tan Mo frowned slightly.
At that moment, Sang Ye turned off his phone and hooked his other hand around the back of Tan Mo’s neck.
Over the next two days, the team attended events organized by the tournament hosts. With an extra free day, they decided to go sightseeing together.
Before heading out, Xiao Pai burst into Tan Mo’s room, pleading enthusiastically, “Brother! Bring your Leica with you! It’s the perfect chance for some photos! Hurry!”
Sang Ye was in the middle of changing his shoes when his heart skipped a beat. He looked up.
Tan Mo met Sang Ye’s gaze, wiped a breadcrumb from the corner of his lips with his fingers, and said coolly to Xiao Pai, “I put it away.”
Sang Ye let out a silent breath of relief and bent back down to tie his shoelaces.
Xiao Pai asked, “Where?”
Tan Mo’s eyes swept over the stack of boxes against the wall. He took another bite of his crispy toast and replied, “Packed away… forgot which box.”
“Then go find it!”
“Too much trouble.”
“This…”
Xiao Pai scratched his head, then suddenly caught something in the corner of his eye. His expression lit up as he strode over to the nightstand, reached into a compartment, and pulled something out. “Isn’t this it?”
Tan Mo: “……”
He had forgotten to put it away after using it last night.
“No way!” Sang Ye instantly lunged at Xiao Pai, sending one of his shoes flying. He snatched the camera and tumbled onto Tan Mo’s bed, curling up tightly around it.
Xiao Pai’s hands were still frozen mid-air in a grabbing position, dumbfounded. “Why?”
Sang Ye’s face turned as red as a tomato, his voice both forceful and stubborn. “Not giving it to you!”
“Hey! Bai Mao,” Xiao Pai rolled up his sleeves, frowning. “You’re being unreasonable. Why are you guarding my bro’s camera like your life depends on it?”
“Mind your own business.” If it was about this Leica, Sang Ye was willing to sacrifice his dignity—hell, even his life.
“Give it to me!” Xiao Pai reached out to snatch it.
Sang Ye suddenly flashed his little white teeth and snapped his jaws fiercely at the air—”Awoo! Awoo!”—almost sinking them into Xiao Pai’s arm.
“Brother! Look at him!” Xiao Pai yelped, backing up two steps in both fear and frustration as he complained to Tan Mo.
Tan Mo finished his breakfast, wiped his hands with a napkin, and said to Xiao Pai, “Quit messing around. Just use your phone—the camera quality is good enough.”
“?”
Not only did Xiao Pai fail to get the camera, but his looks had also just been insulted.
Tan Mo walked over to the bed and held out his hand toward Sang Ye. “I’ll put it away.”
Sang Ye glanced cautiously toward the door before reluctantly handing over the camera, muttering under his breath, “Why didn’t you hide it better…?”
Tan Mo casually powered it on to check the contents of the memory card.
Bit by bit, the collection had grown—there were quite a few photos and videos now.
As he browsed the images, Tan Mo asked, seemingly offhandedly, “Are you planning to keep hiding this forever?”
Sang Ye clearly wasn’t paying attention. He knelt on the bed and smacked Tan Mo’s wrist. “What are you looking at? Hurry up and put it away!”
Tan Mo bit his lip lightly, then walked over to the wall and locked the camera away in a random box.
The group spent the entire day visiting several famous spots in Berlin.
Whether out of sheer mischief or revenge, every time Sang Ye tried to get a picture with Tan Mo, Xiao Pai somehow managed to squeeze in between them at just the right moment.
The only exception was a photo in front of the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, where Sang Ye firmly pressed himself against Tan Mo, refusing to let Xiao Pai shove his way in. As a result, Xiao Pai had to settle for standing next to him and taking a group photo with the two of them.
Fuming, Sang Ye cropped Xiao Pai out of the picture the moment he got his hands on it.
At noon, the group sat at an open-air restaurant along the river for lunch.
Xiao Pai and Hu Fu went inside to place their orders.
Sang Ye seized the opportunity, dragging his chair closer to Tan Mo and requesting a photo together.
Using a cup on the table as a makeshift stand, Tan Mo set up the phone with a timer. The two of them leaned slightly toward each other.
For most people, an upward shot from a phone placed flat on the table would be the worst possible angle. But with their looks, even a shot from the ground wouldn’t be a problem.
Then came another photo. This time, just before the shutter clicked, Tan Mo turned his head and placed a quick kiss at the corner of Sang Ye’s lips.
Sang Ye’s face instantly flushed red. He quickly glanced toward the store—Xiao Pai and Hufu were still facing away, hunched over the counter picking out their meals. He reached out and poked Tan Mo’s waist. “What are you doing?”
Tan Mo picked up the phone to check the photos. “Can I post this on Weibo?”
Sang Ye looked at him in disbelief. “How would that even work?”
Tan Mo scrolled to the photo where they weren’t kissing. “This one.”
Sang Ye let out a breath of relief. “That one’s fine.”
Tan Mo hesitated for a moment before asking, “What if people in the comments start asking about our relationship?”
Sang Ye suddenly remembered—the global tournament had caused their fan base in the rap super-topic to skyrocket by nearly a million followers. Plus, the previous rumors had never been addressed, making this a particularly sensitive time.
Without hesitation, Sang Ye patted the back of Tan Mo’s hand and made a decisive call. “Then don’t post it.”
Tan Mo lowered his gaze briefly, then turned his head away and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket.
Sang Ye took out his own phone. “Send me the photos.”
Tan Mo said, “No.”
Sang Ye looked up, confused, and nudged Tan Mo. “Send them.”
Tan Mo didn’t look at him. “Not sending.”
Just as Sang Ye was about to argue, Xiao Pai and Hu Fu returned, forcing him to drop the topic for the time being.
However, later that afternoon in the car, Tan Mo took the initiative and sent the photos to Sang Ye’s phone.
After finishing their sightseeing, the group officially wrapped up their journey at the global tournament, packed their bags, and headed back home.
After enduring a sixteen-hour flight, everyone finally landed and returned to their base, which they had been away from for a month.
Sang Ye took two days to adjust to the time difference. Once he had recovered, he lay in bed one night and suddenly felt a sense of discomfort. Unconsciously, he curled up under the blanket.
He had spent nearly half a month sleeping next to Tan Mo, and he hadn’t expected to form a habit so quickly. Now, without Tan Mo’s warmth and scent in the blanket, he felt restless.
Sang Ye took out his phone and sent Tan Mo a message.
S.: [Are you asleep?]
T.: [About to sleep.]
Sang Ye typed and deleted his message several times, his face heating up. Eventually, he pressed send.
S.: [Do you want to come up and sleep?]
Downstairs, Tan Mo had just lifted the blanket, ready to get out of bed and find his clingy troublemaker, but he paused. Instead, he sent a message to confirm.
T.: [What if someone finds out?]
S.: [They won’t. I’ll wake you up early tomorrow.]
Tan Mo closed his eyes briefly before lying back down.
After all his subtle probing, Sang Ye still hadn’t given him a satisfying answer.
T.: [Not coming. Get some rest.]
S.: [Oh.]
Tan Mo pulled up his blanket and made a decision—until Sang Ye officially acknowledged their relationship, he wouldn’t sleep with him again.
After just a few days of rest, their work schedule was released.
Xiao Pai groaned in complaint. “This is way too rushed! A lot of the other teams are still on vacation.”
But Yu Haotian was full of energy. “It’s the end of the year—let’s push for those achievements!”
It wasn’t just endorsements; with the year coming to a close, the esports industry was packed with events. As the champion team, they had to take part in numerous photoshoots and interviews, making them much busier than other teams.
With that, the main squad dove into a non-stop schedule, leaving no time to think about anything else.
But Tan Mo was still waiting, wondering when Sang Ye would finally sit down and have the conversation. There were several times he almost couldn’t hold back from asking—Are we going to be together or not?
Sometimes, Tan Mo even started to doubt himself. Maybe he had misinterpreted things that night at the barbecue stall. Otherwise, why had they already won the championship, yet Sang Ye still hadn’t made a move?
However, seeing how exhausted Sang Ye was—so much so that he had to catch up on sleep even in the car—Tan Mo couldn’t bring himself to bring up personal matters and disturb him. So, the deadline in his heart kept getting pushed back again and again.
Finally, after a long stretch of events, everything came to an end.
One morning, Yu Haotian walked into the practice room and announced to everyone, “The day after tomorrow is Christmas. The club is hosting a small gathering—dinner, karaoke, that kind of thing. I’m taking a headcount. You guys should be free, right? Everyone’s coming?”
Tan Mo paused for a moment.
In China, Christmas was basically treated as Valentine’s Day—a perfect occasion for couples to go on dates.
If Sang Ye was planning to have a serious talk with him, Christmas would undoubtedly be the ideal choice.
Tan Mo curled his fingers slightly, released the mouse, and leaned back against his chair, shifting his angle to look at Sang Ye.
He had a feeling—the time had finally come.
Sang Ye was halfway through adjusting his headset while playing a game. Without even turning his head, he replied to Yu Haotian, “I’m free, I can go.”
Yu Haotian jotted it down in his notebook. “Alright.”
Tan Mo: “…”
Yu Haotian looked up. “Talk, what about you?”
Tan Mo picked up his cup, took a sip of water, then turned toward Xiao Pai. “I’m in.”
Just then, something seemed to occur to Sang Ye. He pulled down his headset and turned to Yu Haotian. “I need to take the afternoon off to go out.”
Since there were no scheduled practice matches, Yu Haotian simply said, “Okay.”
Tan Mo instinctively asked, “Do you want me to drive you?”
Sang Ye shook his head. “Thanks, but no need.”
Tan Mo rubbed his thumb against the handle of his cup before asking, “Where are you going?”
A fleeting hint of unease flashed across Sang Ye’s face. He lowered his head, put his headset back on, and replied dryly, “Just… somewhere.”
Tan Mo quietly studied Sang Ye, feeling something inside him build to a breaking point, almost reaching its limit.
Two seconds later.
Without a word, he got up, holding his cup, and walked out the door.
Tan Mo strode down the hallway, his jawline tightening for a brief moment.
Just then—
“Talk!”
A slightly hoarse, youthful voice called from behind.
Tan Mo halted his steps and turned slightly.
Sang Ye glanced back at the practice room before stepping out and walking up to him.
For some reason, Sang Ye seemed unusually nervous, making the atmosphere between them subtly distant.
“What is it?” Tan Mo looked at him.
“Just in case, I wanted to ask you in advance…” Sang Ye lifted his slightly flushed face, his dark eyes glimmering with anticipation, and his voice softened. “Are you free on the night of December 31st?”
It was as if a small silver spoon had tapped gently against Tan Mo’s otherwise unshakable heart. In an instant, the fortified shell around it cracked apart, and his heart began beating vividly once again.
Tan Mo took half a step back, suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous. Even his voice carried a trace of unease. “Are you asking me to spend New Year’s Eve with you?”
Sang Ye nodded, murmuring a soft “Mm” as his gaze flickered away before steadying again. His face grew even redder.
Tan Mo asked, “Is everyone going?”
Sang Ye quickly replied, “No, no… just you and me.”
“I’m free…” Tan Mo swallowed, shoving one hand into his pants pocket and lowering his gaze slightly. “I’m free.”
“Good.” Sang Ye pressed his lips together in a small smile. “I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Tan Mo said, “I’ll treat you—”
“No, I will!” Sang Ye insisted, stepping backward toward the practice room. “Don’t forget. I’ll send you the address later.”
As he watched the boy’s retreating figure, Tan Mo clenched the hand in his pocket, his heartbeat still racing—he was already starting to feel nervous.
….
At the Christmas party, while they were at the KTV in the evening, Tan Mo found an opportunity to sit next to Sang Ye.
Sang Ye caught the scent of alcohol and looked up from his phone, only to see Tan Mo handing him a gift box.
The room was dimly lit, with hazy blue lights flowing around, but Sang Ye could still make out the slight flush on Tan Mo’s face from the alcohol. His lips had taken on a rich, slightly glossy red hue.
Xiao Pai was still howling in front, and the private room was unbearably noisy.
Tan Mo leaned close to Sang Ye’s ear, raising his voice to be heard. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” Sang Ye replied, then asked, “What’s this?”
“See for yourself!”
Sang Ye lowered his gaze and unwrapped the gift box, revealing a silver-faced wristwatch inside. The design was minimalist, with a slim dark red leather strap, giving it a vintage aesthetic. Holding it in his hand, he could feel its substantial weight, and the craftsmanship was impeccable, with every detail perfectly aligned.
Right then and there, Sang Ye put the watch on.
Tan Mo lowered his head to admire it, gently brushing his fingers over Sang Ye’s fair wrist, murmuring softly, “Looks good…”
Sang Ye leaned closer to his ear. “I really like it!”
Tan Mo nodded.
Just then, Jifeng took the stage to challenge Xiao Pai to a PK battle, stirring the already noisy room into an even louder frenzy.
Sang Ye said, “After the New Year, I’ll make it up to you with a Christmas gift!”
Tan Mo struggled to hear over the noise, but once he understood, he replied, “No need.”
Sang Ye insisted, “I have to!”
“Are you only thinking about giving me a return gift because I gave you one?” Tan Mo asked. “It’s not necessary.”
Sang Ye suddenly wrapped an arm around Tan Mo’s warm neck, his lips almost brushing against his ear as he murmured, “I’m broke right now!”
Tan Mo felt the damp heat against his ear, his breath hitching slightly. He struggled to ask, “Why?”
Sang Ye gazed at Tan Mo from up close, his dark eyes flickering with shyness under the blue-tinted lights.
“I’m not telling you.”
…
During the New Year’s holiday, most people at the base went home to celebrate.
However, Tan Mo had made plans with Sang Ye, so he postponed his trip home.
By the afternoon, Sang Ye had disappeared without a trace.
Tan Mo sent him a message asking where he was, and Sang Ye simply replied that he was out handling something.
“Alright.” Tan Mo expressionlessly tossed his phone aside, not bothering to check it again.
Around 4 PM, Sang Ye sent Tan Mo the restaurant address, along with a note: “Be there by 8.”
Tan Mo knew that restaurant—he had been there before. It was located by the Huangpu River inside a five-star hotel. The restaurant featured floor-to-ceiling glass walls, offering a panoramic view of the river.
It had an air of sophistication.
And it carried a faint sense of something… out of the ordinary.
Even someone as composed as Tan Mo couldn’t help but sit in his room for a while, gathering his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if Sang Ye would give him a definite answer tonight. If Sang Ye didn’t plan to, Tan Mo had already made up his mind—he wouldn’t drag things out. He’d just ask him directly.
That evening, Tan Mo drove to the restaurant. The roads were congested, so he turned on the radio.
The broadcast announced that there would be a New Year’s Eve event at the Bund, organized by the city, featuring a fireworks show. It also warned people to be mindful of overcrowding.
Tan Mo glanced at the traffic-clogged streets outside his window but didn’t register a single word of the broadcast. He had no interest in fireworks—he only cared about one thing. Would Sang Ye agree to be with him or not?
Fifteen minutes before eight, Tan Mo arrived at the restaurant.
Tall and long-legged, dressed in a fitted suit, he followed the waiter through the dining area. Along the way, he drew quite a few lingering glances.
Sang Ye was already seated, looking at the menu. When he looked up and saw Tan Mo, his dark eyes lit up.
Tan Mo sat down, studying Sang Ye for two seconds before asking, “You got a haircut?”
Sang Ye instinctively touched his head, his expression suddenly tense. “Is it that obvious?”
It was only a slight trim, but the layers were more defined, making his features appear even more striking.
Tan Mo said, “It looks great.”
“You… look at the menu.” Sang Ye, feeling embarrassed, breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head to continue scanning the dishes.
During dinner, the tables to their left and right were unoccupied, making their side of the restaurant especially quiet. When neither of them spoke, only the soft, flowing music filled the air.
Tan Mo glanced around and remarked, “You picked a nice spot.”
Sang Ye smiled. “I think so too.”
They were on the 25th floor, with an expansive view of the Huangpu River. As time passed, more and more people gathered along the riverbanks.
Across the river stood the Oriental Pearl Tower and a cluster of towering skyscrapers, their reflections shimmering in the water. The city lights were dazzling, and the 6,000-square-meter LED screen on the Citibank Tower displayed animated visuals along with phrases like “Welcoming the New Year.” The sight was visually stunning.
Tan Mo checked the time and said, “In three minutes, there will be a fireworks show nearby. Do you want to sit next to me?”
His seat faced the window, while Sang Ye’s back was to it.
But Sang Ye quickly waved his hand. “No, no need.”
Tan Mo didn’t insist.
Sang Ye had almost finished eating. He set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and lowered his gaze. He remained like that for a while, holding the napkin to his lips, as if gathering his thoughts.
Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Tan Mo’s heart suddenly started pounding hard in his chest. He set down his glass, took a quiet, deep breath, and leaned back into his chair, trying to relax. He even shook out his slightly tense wrists.
“What’s wrong?” Tan Mo broke the silence first, his tone light with a hint of amusement.
Sang Ye put down the napkin, still looking down. “Talk, I…”
Tan Mo’s eyelid twitched violently.
Back in Berlin, he had been absolutely certain that Sang Ye would agree to be with him. But after a month of uncertainty and hesitation, now that the crucial moment had arrived, all of his previous confidence had crumbled.
Tan Mo suddenly realized that he had no idea—no certainty at all—about how Sang Ye truly felt about their relationship.
Sang Ye didn’t seem to be doing much better. He was holding his cup but hadn’t taken a sip. Trying to steady his emotions, he kept his gaze lowered, avoiding Tan Mo’s eyes. Finally, he spoke: “When you first told me you liked me, I was really surprised, but also really happy. Still, I kept hesitating. At that time, if we had just gotten together like that, it felt like… something was missing. And everything that happened afterward—I never expected any of it…” His voice grew quieter and quieter.
Tan Mo had always been clear-headed and logical, but now, he couldn’t grasp the main point at all. The only way he could judge whether this conversation was heading toward a good or bad outcome was by reading Sang Ye’s expression.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He reached up and unfastened the top button of his shirt. He hadn’t even been this nervous during competitions. Forcing himself to stay focused, he continued listening. “Mm.”
“I…” Sang Ye took a deep breath and said, “But no matter what, I owe you an answer. I think… I think…”
He bit his lip, then suddenly pulled something out of his pocket. Unable to control his strength, he placed it in front of Tan Mo with a bit too much force. His voice was strained as he said:
“I think you’re a good person!”
“…...”
Half of Tan Mo’s heart sank, and the other half turned cold. His mind snapped back into clarity as he lowered his eyes to look at the object in front of him.
It was a jewelry box, its velvet surface carrying a matte black texture.
“What is this?” Tan Mo steadied his expression. Even though he had already guessed the answer, he still picked up the box and opened it.
Inside was a jade and gold ring.
So familiar—so unmistakably familiar.
Tan Mo only glanced at it before snapping the box shut with a sharp “clap.” His chest rose and fell twice as he forced himself to stay still. Under his lowered lashes, his gaze darkened.
So all of Sang Ye’s previous affectionate and proactive gestures… they could only mean one thing—he had just been playing around, amusing himself at Tan Mo’s expense.
Tan Mo quickly composed himself, let out a self-deprecating laugh, and tossed the jewelry box back in front of Sang Ye. “It was a gift. It’s yours.”
Sang Ye looked up, utterly confused. “Huh?”
Tan Mo rested one hand on the back of a chair, bit his lip, and gave a small smile. “No need to return it.”
“Wait, no…” Sang Ye was about to explain something.
But at that moment—
A sharp, whistling “whoosh!” pierced the air outside.
Instinctively, Tan Mo turned toward the glass wall, following the sound.
A muffled boom followed, and half the sky above the Huangpu River bloomed with silver fireworks, bursting open like dandelions.
The crowd by the riverside erupted in cheers.
For a brief moment, Tan Mo’s attention was caught by the dazzling fireworks display.
But in the next second—something in his peripheral vision changed.
His gaze subtly shifted toward the Citi Tower across the river. The “Happy New Year” message on the massive 6,000-square-meter LED screen had started to change.
Letter by letter, a new message slowly began scrolling upward from the bottom.
—T
—A
—L
—K
—I
—L
—I
—K
—E
—Y
—O
—U
The sky beside the tower erupted into another grand display of fireworks.
Tan Mo remained motionless for a long time, just staring at it, the dazzling lights reflecting in his peach blossom eyes.
A full ten seconds passed before his focus shifted back to the present. As his gaze realigned, the boy’s face overlapped with the fragmented neon lights outside, gradually sharpening from a blur into clarity.
Sang Ye clutched the tablecloth tightly with both hands, then pried open the jewelry box—inside lay a custom-made ring, one he had specially reordered from a collector. He pushed it toward Tan Mo, his voice trembling slightly:
“I hope you’ll be with me… W-will you?”
Tan Mo narrowed his eyes slightly, then suddenly smiled. In that fleeting moment, tears shimmered in his eyes.