This chapter is brought to you by Fatima, thanks for the ko-fi! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･
Chapter 85 – Fear.
At the Annual Gala
WLG successfully defended their world championship title for another year, making them the undisputed winner of the “Best Club of the Year” award.
Sang Ye took home the “MaoYa Rookie Award,” “Most Valuable Player,” and “Best Esports Individual of the Year.”
For a newcomer, he had essentially achieved a grand slam, winning every top-tier award available, becoming the brightest star of the night.
Among Tan Mo’s accolades was also the title of “Best Esports Individual of the Year.” When he went on stage to receive it, he stood right beside Sang Ye.
Netizens screamed: “They match so well! Even their awards come in couples’ editions!!!”
A high-definition image of Sang Ye and Tan Mo standing together with their crimson-colored certificates was soon posted on the official Weibo account. Fans quickly edited their awards into marriage certificates.
The internet collectively urged: “Hurry up and get married, Talk and Song!”
The Post-Gala Banquet
The gala ended around six in the evening, and everyone was invited to the banquet afterward.
The WLG members sat at one table, enjoying their meal while performances played on stage.
Hu Fu drank a lot that night. Every now and then, he would pick up his crystal trophy, stroke it, glance at it, then fall silent. He spoke far less than usual, his expression difficult to decipher.
The air conditioning in the venue was set quite high, but Sang Ye would still get sudden chills, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. He figured it was because his seat was facing the open doorway of an emergency exit nearby.
Tan Mo noticed Sang Ye pulling on his suit jacket and asked, “Cold?”
Sang Ye nodded toward the emergency exit. “There’s a draft.”
“Switch seats with me.” Tan Mo removed the napkin from his lap and stood up.
“No need.” Sang Ye tugged him back.
“Come on,” Tan Mo insisted. “I need to grab something from outside anyway.”
While Tan Mo was gone, Sang Ye switched their seats and swapped their plates as well.
Across the table, Xiao Pai watched, half envious, half annoyed. “Unbelievable. You’re such a delicate flower, can’t even handle a little breeze.”
Sang Ye lifted his gaze. “Is that how you talk to your brother?”
Xiao Pai clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Being someone’s ‘sister-in-law’ sure makes you cocky.”
Sang Ye warned, “Watch your words.”
Xiao Pai wasn’t afraid at all. “Go ahead, go whisper sweet nothings to my brother!”
“What are you so worked up about?”
“Who do you think made me do a headstand with diarrhea?!”
“Hey!” Yu Haotian tapped Xiao Pai with his spoon, frowning in disgust. “We’re eating. Do you want me to finish this pumpkin soup or not?”
Sang Ye calmly folded his napkin, his face indifferent. “Maybe you should learn to think before you speak.”
“You—!” Xiao Pai, at a loss for words, hugged the wine bottle to his chest, looking utterly miserable. “Back then, when things got messy, I was the one stupidly clarifying things for you two. And now look at me.”
Sang Ye said, “No one asked you to.”
“……”
Xiao Pai felt utterly bitter and took a long swig straight from the bottle.
Sang Ye watched him for two seconds before saying, “I’ve misspoken in the past too. Like that time I lost a bet with the netizens and had to wear a dress.”
Xiao Pai froze for a moment, then put down the bottle. He felt a little better.
He understood Sang Ye’s meaning—who hasn’t made mistakes?
Right now, all his fussing and whining was just his way of trying to get either Tan Mo or Sang Ye to comfort him, to soothe his betrayed soul.
He withdrew his thorns and scratched his cheek. “I know…”
“Later, I actually wore the dress,” Sang Ye continued. “What about you?”
Xiao Pai: “……”
“When are you going live for your performance?”
“…………”
Are you even human?
Tan Mo returned after ten minutes, carrying a down jacket and a scarf—things Sang Ye had left in the car before entering the venue.
Sang Ye hadn’t expected him to go that far just to retrieve them. He was a bit stunned. “I’m not putting them on right now.”
Everyone at the banquet was in formal attire; no one was wearing a down jacket.
Tan Mo draped the clothes over the back of Sang Ye’s chair. “There’s still some distance between here and the parking lot. The temperature difference will be noticeable.”
“……” Xiao Pai took a deep breath. The more he watched, the more ridiculous it all seemed. He turned to stare at the stage instead.
So when his brother and the white-haired guy were keeping things under wraps, they were actually hiding it well. But now that they were public, there were no restraints anymore—they spoiled each other openly and without hesitation.
Even back at the base, while they didn’t engage in over-the-top couple behaviors, every word and action showed how much they had eyes only for each other.
No single dog in the base survived.
Sang Ye said, “I’ll put it on when we leave.”
Even someone as slow as him could feel how meticulous and caring Tan Mo was toward him.
Tan Mo sat down and casually picked up Sang Ye’s glass, glancing inside. “Drink less. I don’t want to take care of a drunk tonight.”
“I didn’t drink much…” Sang Ye immediately realized that wasn’t the point and snatched his glass back. “Who said you had to take care of me?”
Tan Mo enjoyed seeing him act tough and ruffled his hair.
Sang Ye didn’t think he’d get drunk tonight. He only planned to finish the glass of red wine he had poured at the beginning, which was well within his limits.
However, as the evening progressed and the formalities wrapped up, people started moving freely between tables.
Since Sang Ye was the star of the night, many people came over to toast him.
Tan Mo turned down most of the offers on his behalf and barely drank himself, keeping a rational stance throughout.
But then someone raised their glass and said, “To the two of you—may you stay together forever.”
Now, that was something Tan Mo liked to hear.
As someone who thoroughly enjoyed treating people to wedding banquets, he wouldn’t refuse any well-wishes.
So, by the time the event ended, Tan Mo was slouched in his seat, his elbow resting on the chair back and table edge, his head drooping, cheeks flushed red. His tie was loosened, and the collar of his dress shirt was wrinkled. He had been sitting in that position for quite a while.
Just as he was sobering up in silence, a warm body leaned against his back.
Tan Mo tilted his head.
Sang Ye’s rosy face was nestled against his shoulder, his dark, glossy eyes curved into a tipsy smile.
At this close distance, their breaths intertwined—both carrying the scent of alcohol.
Tan Mo was in slightly better shape than Sang Ye. Before they left, he steadied the swaying young man, helped him put on his down jacket, and wrapped a scarf around him.
As soon as they stepped out of the venue, the cold wind hit them. Sang Ye shivered, tucking his hands into his sleeves and burying his face into the scarf.
The two stood at the entrance, waiting for the club’s car to arrive.
Tan Mo asked, “Still cold?”
Even though he was wearing a suit, the alcohol made his body feel warm.
Sang Ye mumbled, “A little…”
Tan Mo looked at the boy, shrinking into himself like a pitiful little thing, and teased, “Are you really that weak?”
“I used to be very strong,” Sang Ye frowned, gazing at Tan Mo with a face full of grievance and complaint. “You must have ruined me.”
“…”
Tan Mo immediately reached out to cover Sang Ye’s mouth, glancing around before exhaling a warm breath.
When Sang Ye was drunk, he was completely unrestrained—if left unchecked, who knew what he’d say next?
The driver safely dropped everyone off at the base.
Seeing that Tan Mo was struggling to stand properly himself while still supporting Sang Ye, Xiao Pai offered, “Brother, I’ll take Bai Mao upstairs.”
“I got it.” Tan Mo glanced at the dazed Sang Ye and said, “He’s too drunk to bathe on his own.”
Xiao Pai let out a long “Aih…” and shook his head helplessly. “You’re basically raising a son at this point.”
“Impossible!” Sang Ye suddenly sprang to life, struggling to stand up straight. With all the dignity he could muster, he declared to Tan Mo, “I will never call you ‘Daddy’!”
Xiao Pai: “???”
Tan Mo: “…” Instantly sobering up, he hurriedly dragged Sang Ye away.
Once they reached the third floor, Tan Mo placed Sang Ye onto the bed and was about to run a bath for him.
But Sang Ye clung onto him, whining and causing trouble. “So hot…”
Here we go again.
Tan Mo’s breathing grew heavier. The hand supporting his weight loosened slightly as he leaned down, pressing more of his body onto Sang Ye. “What are you trying to do?”
Sang Ye’s voice was soft. “I want that.”
Tan Mo began undoing the crystal buttons of his white shirt, too rushed to go downstairs for his camera. “If you dare play dumb in the morning, I swear I’ll beat you. Got it?”
Sang Ye promised seriously, “I won’t.”
What he didn’t say was—why would he ever go back on his word?
He had always been someone who took responsibility for his actions.
The atmosphere in the room quickly heated up. The alcohol fueled their body heat, making their movements impatient. Just as Tan Mo had stripped down and pulled open the bedside drawer, he realized—the box of cond*ms was empty.
“…”
Tan Mo stretched his arm, rummaging through the drawer.
On weekends, if he didn’t take Sang Ye home, he would come up to the third floor to sleep—because Sang Ye was the only one living on this entire floor, no matter how loud they got, no one would hear.
So, they always kept their supplies in Sang Ye’s room. If it wasn’t here, then it really wasn’t anywhere.
With a sharp bang, Tan Mo slammed the drawer shut, grabbing his pants. No matter how composed he usually was, at a moment like this, he couldn’t help but curse. “F***.”
Sang Ye, in a soft, whining tone, urged, “Hurry up, hurry up.”
Tan Mo pressed a soothing kiss to the corner of his eye and explained, “We’re out. Let’s just forget about it tonight. Be good.”
Sang Ye whispered near his ear, “Then don’t use one…”
“…”
Tan Mo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He pushed Sang Ye’s head to the side. “Do you even know what you’re saying? You know the risks?”
But Sang Ye was relentless, pressing closer. His heated breath sent a flush up Tan Mo’s ears. “It’s fine, just this once… you can… inside…”
The last part, murmured in a hushed, sultry whisper, was too tempting.
Tan Mo, already more impulsive than usual due to the alcohol, tried to stay rational for two seconds—before finally losing control.
Maybe it was the drinks, but tonight, Sang Ye felt especially warm.
Too warm. Unnaturally warm.
Tan Mo lowered his head, feeling like he was melting, unable to suppress the deep, satisfied growl that escaped his throat.
The next morning, Sang Ye was in terrible shape.
Curled up in bed, clutching his stomach, he groaned in pain.
Tan Mo frowned slightly. He had cleaned Sang Ye up in the middle of the night, but there was still a chance he hadn’t done it thoroughly.
Sang Ye’s pale face hung low, making him look weak and drained. He gasped feebly, “Are you even human?”
“…”
Sang Ye turned his gaze away from Tan Mo. “Fine, whatever. You always take advantage whenever I’m drunk—I don’t even want to argue about that. But… you couldn’t even wear a cond*m?”
“……”
For once, Tan Mo didn’t try to argue. Instead, he reached out and touched Sang Ye’s forehead. It didn’t seem too serious. “Rest a bit longer. I’ll go buy breakfast and come back.”
Sang Ye blinked in a daze, caught off guard. He had expected Tan Mo to bicker with him a little, or at least act exasperated, but there was none of that. Instead, he could see real concern in his expression.
Drowsy, Sang Ye ate a little breakfast before burrowing back under the covers for more sleep.
Tan Mo leaned against the headboard, replying to a few messages. Just as he was about to leave, he glanced down at Sang Ye—and noticed the unnatural flush spreading across his pale cheeks.
Reaching out to touch him, he was met with alarming heat.
Tan Mo froze, his face devoid of emotion for a moment. Three seconds later, his expression paled. He shook Sang Ye awake. “Get up. We’re going to the hospital.”
Sang Ye weakly turned over, facing away from him, murmuring, “Just let me sleep a little longer…”
Still relatively composed, Tan Mo tucked the blanket around him before stepping out to make a phone call.
He arranged for a private doctor to come over.
There were still about fifteen minutes before the doctor arrived.
In the meantime, Tan Mo went downstairs to grab a cooling patch. When he returned, he carefully placed it on Sang Ye’s forehead.
Then, sitting by the bed, he pulled out his phone—
And started searching on Baidu.
He combined all the keywords and searched: “internal ej*culation,” “same-s*x,” “unprotected,” “fever,” “abdominal pain”…
Among the online doctor responses, some mentioned inflammation, others warned about bacterial infections. But when his eyes landed on the name of a super-cancer that was most feared within the LGBTQ+ community, Tan Mo’s hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
He quickly glanced back at Sang Ye, who was still asleep, then ignored the time difference and called an old classmate from medical school.
Sang Ye wasn’t sleeping well. His body alternated between hot and cold, and though he heard someone leaving the room and coming back, it soon became quiet again. Just as he was about to drift off into a deeper sleep, he heard the faint sound of someone sniffling.
“…”
Still groggy, Sang Ye opened his eyes and lifted his head slightly to look back.
Tan Mo was sitting on the floor beside the bed, leaning against it, his head lowered. One hand covered his eyes, his face turned slightly away.
Even though his body felt weak and sore, Sang Ye still wriggled closer under the blanket like a little caterpillar, his head resting softly at the edge of the bed.
“…Ah Mo?”
Tan Mo shifted, kneeling by the bedside, and reached out to touch Sang Ye’s burning face. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Sang Ye blinked up at him with his clear, black-and-white eyes. He noticed that Tan Mo’s usually bright, peach-blossom eyes were glistening with moisture, the corners tinged red.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Tan Mo gently stroked Sang Ye’s forehead, his brows, his eyes—his gaze tracing every feature of the boy’s face.
But somehow, Sang Ye felt that Tan Mo looked even more upset than before.
“Don’t worry,” Sang Ye reassured him, reaching out from under the covers to hold Tan Mo’s hand. “I just need a little more sleep, and I’ll be fine.”
Tan Mo lowered his lashes.
Even Sang Ye’s palm was burning hot.
After a while, Tan Mo leaned in, burying his face against Sang Ye’s side. His voice came out hoarse.
“…I’m sorry.”
“…”
Seeing Tan Mo looking so guilt-ridden and devastated, Sang Ye momentarily panicked, wondering if he was really dying.
“…What’s wrong?” Sang Ye asked, puzzled.
Tan Mo shook his head, staying silent, though his shoulders trembled faintly.
Completely bewildered, Sang Ye kept pressing for answers, asking again and again.
Before long, there was a knock at the door.
The doctor had arrived, carrying a medical kit.
Sang Ye finally realized that Tan Mo had called a private doctor—it felt a bit excessive.
Tan Mo waited outside, squatting against the wall, then standing up again, rubbing his face. Even his breathing had become somewhat labored.
However, not even a minute later, the door reopened.
Tan Mo immediately straightened up and asked, “Does he need to be transferred to a hospital?”
“No need.” The doctor pulled the door shut and said, “It’s just the flu and a fever.”
Tan Mo blinked. “…Shouldn’t we do a full-body checkup just in case?”
The doctor, carrying his medical kit, didn’t even pause as he walked past, casually pointing a finger at Tan Mo. “You’re overreacting because you care too much.”
After the doctor left, Tan Mo gradually calmed down.
Thinking back, Sang Ye had already shown mild fever symptoms last night at the annual gala, but since Tan Mo had also been drinking, he hadn’t paid enough attention.
When he returned to the room, Sang Ye was opening the box of medicine the doctor had left behind.
Tan Mo walked over and poured him a glass of warm water.
Sang Ye sat cross-legged on the bed, swallowed the fever medicine, and stared at Tan Mo. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Mm.”
“…Can you stop crying now?”
“…Just go to sleep.”
Sang Ye lifted one side of the blanket and patted the bed.
Tan Mo hesitated for a moment before climbing in and sitting against the headboard.
Sang Ye snuggled under the blanket and wrapped his arms around Tan Mo’s waist.
He understood—Tan Mo was extremely sensitive to the idea of losing the people close to him. His fear of loss made his reactions overly intense.
After a brief silence, Tan Mo said, “I won’t do something like that again.”
For some reason, Sang Ye suddenly felt awkward. But since his face was already as red as it could get from the fever, Tan Mo didn’t notice anything unusual.
Though he was still a little dazed from the fever, something in his brain must have been triggered just now—because he had just remembered certain fragments from last night.
—In that urgent moment, he was the one who clung to Tan Mo, insisting they go without protection…
Thinking back to their time in Berlin, Tan Mo had sworn that every time Sang Ye got drunk, he was always the one to initiate things. They had even argued about it. So maybe the truth wasn’t as he had imagined…
Sang Ye began to reflect, feeling guilty. He bit his fingernail.
He lifted his head to look at Tan Mo, his eyes shimmering like scattered starlight.
Tan Mo met his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Sang Ye hesitated. “About last night… You better keep your word. You have to change next time.”
Classic case of stubborn denial.
At a time like this, Tan Mo went along with him. “Alright.”
Sang Ye hugged him tighter, burrowing into a comfortable spot, then closed his eyes with satisfaction. “Don’t be afraid. I will never leave you.”
Tan Mo lowered his gaze, looking at Sang Ye. He touched his burning-hot face, feeling how real and alive he was.
And at that moment, he knew—there was no way he could ever leave him in this lifetime.