Chapter 10 – I Don’t Want You to Keep Giving In
Hearing that name, Yin Sijue suddenly looked at Xu Shaoqiu.
Da Shu didn’t react, looking puzzled. “What do you mean? Wolf’s real name seems to be Wei, right? That ID looks normal enough.”
“Have you forgotten who [WEI] is?” Mi Li was stunned for two seconds before regaining his composure. “Three years ago, he was ranked first on the Asian server. Later the captain surpassed him, but he never fell out of the top two and dominated the charts for a long time. Many clubs wanted to sign him back then, but for some reason, no one could find him.”
Da Shu: “Fuck, him! Didn’t he quit the game? I can’t even remember him.”
Xu Shaoqiu: “I never spoke to him directly. But listen—Wei once submitted an application form to us. He listed his age as 15. Now, more than three years later, Wolf is 18, so the age matches. Plus, his last name happens to be Wei.”
Da Shu: “That’s a stretch. Plenty of people could meet those conditions.”
Lao Ma: “Why only age? Didn’t the form also have a name and photo?”
Xu Shaoqiu sighed. “No, at that time…”
“It wasn’t him.”
Yin Sijue interrupted Xu Shaoqiu, frowning.
Xu Shaoqiu: “Huh? Oh… That Wei used to play with you, right? But it seems you haven’t been in touch. Just an online friend—are you that sure?”
Something in Xu Shaoqiu’s words struck a nerve. Yin Sijue’s tone stiffened. “I’m sure it’s not him. Who told you this?”
Xu Shaoqiu shrank back, avoiding a direct answer. “Alright, if it’s not, then it’s not.”
But unwilling to let go, he pressed again. “Still, you two were so close before. Why didn’t you keep in touch?”
“…”
The streetlights glowed orange, their reflections flickering in Yin Sijue’s dark jade eyes.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked a few steps toward the river, his figure nearly swallowed by the black water.
After a long while, a sigh mingled with the evening breeze reached him, faint and hollow.
“It’s not that we stopped keeping in touch. It’s that we can’t.”
…
After walking less than a lap along the river, Da Shu began to complain of fatigue.
Da Shu: “Let’s just go wash the car. What do you think?”
Mi Li: “Seriously? You’re too weak. We haven’t even walked three kilometers.”
Da Shu: “As an esports player, I’m lucky to be in shape. Please don’t expect too much from me, okay?”
Xu Shaoqiu: “Don’t stigmatize esports players. It’s not that I didn’t provide you with a gym, but the equipment is ridiculously expensive. If Yin Sijue hadn’t gone there every day, I would’ve already forgotten about it.”
Da Shu: “How can the captain be the same? He’s not just an esports player—he’s an esports idol! He carries that image baggage. But I’m not bad either. I’m in good shape even without working out.”
Mi Li: “Pu Xinnan reported us.”
Xu Shaoqiu: “Forget it. Let’s go. There’s an internet celebrity club next to that 4S shop. There might be traffic later, so it’s better to go now.”
The group got into Xu Shaoqiu’s car. As expected, they were stuck in traffic for a while. While waiting for the car to be washed, several of them leaned against the wall outside the shop, bored.
Xu Shaoqiu: “Stand nearby and make sure your hats and masks are on securely. Oh my god, why are the lights in this club so flashy? Don’t let us get caught. Marketing accounts will spread rumors that we’re drinking instead of training.”
Da Shu: “Then you take full responsibility.”
Lao Ma: “By the way, this club is quite luxurious. Should we have our celebration party here next time?”
Xu Shaoqiu: “It’s smaller here, perfect for small gatherings. Our celebration party is just for club staff, so there wouldn’t be enough space for dozens—or even hundreds—of people.”
After explaining, he thought again:
“No! You guys want a celebration party just because you won the game? With today’s results, forget about the club. Just go to the restroom.”
Lao Ma: “…Why do I still have to get scolded even after retiring?”
Da Shu: “If the people on Tieba are right this time and we really get knocked out in the group stage…”
Xu Shaoqiu couldn’t stand hearing that. He almost jumped up in anger: “I’ll throw every single one of you into the river we just passed!”
Da Shu: “That’s terrifying.”
Everyone laughed for a while before Da Shu suddenly grew serious:
“Coach, I still want to say this—I don’t think Wolf plays badly, but his game philosophy seems different from ours. The four of us have been playing together for so long that we’ve built up some chemistry. If our training results keep going like this, it might be better to let Lao Ma sub in. At least he plays more conservatively.
“And besides, you’re not even sure he’s really that [WEI] from the Asian server.”
Just then, Yin Sijue, who was playing Link Link, turned his head and cut in: “I’m certain he’s not.”
Xu Shaoqiu stayed silent for a long while before sighing. “Our team hasn’t fallen so far that we’d have to send old players back on stage with injuries. How about this: I’ll discuss it with the coaching staff later. The summer season is about to start—we’re running out of time too.”
Hearing that he might be pulled out of retirement, Lao Ma’s emotions swung wildly. He gazed into the distance and lifted a hand, pretending to light a cigarette that didn’t exist.
Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure at the entrance of the club nearby.
A man had his arm around a petite girl, fiddling with his phone as if about to call a cab.
The man had a mop of permed “foil-paper” hair and a slouched posture, lazily playing with his phone. On his shoulder was a luxury brand messenger bag—the very one he had just carried out of the base earlier that evening.
Lao Ma hadn’t expected to see Wolf here.
He froze for a moment, then quickly patted Da Shu beside him, motioning for him to look ahead.
“Look over there. Isn’t that Wolf?”
Da Shu followed his finger and gasped.
“My god—it really is him!”
Mi Li: “So when he said he had something to do, he meant he was out with his girlfriend.”
Lao Ma stroked his chin. “That’s understandable. In our line of work, having a partner isn’t easy.”
Xu Shaoqiu, always as cautious as a fussy old lady, said sharply: “Doesn’t this count as puppy love?”
Lao Ma: “He’s already an adult, so probably not? Looks like he hasn’t gotten a cab yet. Should we call him to head back with us?”
Xu Shaoqiu nodded. “Good idea—our car just finished being washed anyway.”
Not wanting to bother him by suddenly walking over, Xu Shaoqiu decided to give Wolf a call instead.
After Wolf answered the phone, he exchanged a few words with the girl beside him and hurried toward them.
Xu Shaoqiu wondered if it was just his imagination, but Wolf looked a little… flustered.
Maybe he just feels guilty about being caught dating at such a young age, he thought.
Wolf was slightly out of breath as he walked over, his hair tousled by the wind.
“Weren’t you out for a walk?”
The staff handed over the keys, and Xu Shaoqiu nodded as he motioned for them to get in the car.
“We stopped to wash the car. Let’s head back together.”
Da Shu climbed in first. Worried that Wolf might still be holding a grudge from that afternoon, he took the initiative to start a conversation:
“Wolf, I didn’t expect you to be so impressive. You’re the only one on our team with a partner!”
“Hm.” Wolf glanced around, saw no particular reaction from the others, and replied absentmindedly.
Da Shu pressed on. “But you’re so busy with training—doesn’t your girlfriend get upset? Doesn’t she complain that you don’t have time for her?”
Wolf’s expression was baffled, as if he’d just heard something completely absurd. “Uh… no.”
Da Shu: …
Da Shu thought to himself, After all that effort, I still can’t get a single fart out of him. Turns out, taking the initiative once was enough to earn me a lifetime of awkward silence.
So he sat back down, losing interest.
Back at the base, it wasn’t bedtime yet, so the group continued their training on the computers.
Remembering the disastrous results from that afternoon, the four of them unanimously chose to play solo queue.
After clawing back their lost points, Yin Sijue finally relaxed a little and went to the pantry to make himself a cup of coffee.
“Drinking coffee this late? Do you even plan on sleeping?”
Xu Shaoqiu’s voice echoed behind him like a ghost.
“Why are you everywhere?” Yin Sijue leaned against the wall, coffee in hand, and glanced at him coolly.
Xu Shaoqiu: “I’m just worried! I can’t even talk to you without getting that attitude. Can’t you at least give your coach and manager some basic respect?”
Yin Sijue lowered his head and took a sip. The bitter taste cleared his mind.
“I used to be pretty respectful. But today I realized the coach’s eyesight isn’t all that sharp.”
Xu Shaoqiu froze for a second before realizing he was referring to last night, when he had speculated that Wolf might be [Wei].
“But I was anxious to find someone then. Besides, I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Who told you that in the first place?”
Xu Shaoqiu muttered awkwardly, “Actually… it was Wolf who tipped me off.”
Yin Sijue: ?
If eyes could fire off barrages, Xu Shaoqiu was certain he would see countless “idiot!” comments flashing in Yin Sijue’s gaze.
Feeling even more embarrassed, Xu Shaoqiu said, “He told me that before he went pro, he had an account that was consistently top two on the Asian server. And back then—same as now—every account ranked at the top was either an active player or a streamer, except for [Wei], who retired mid-game. Plus, the ID is so close to his name—it’s hard not to be suspicious.”
Yin Sijue gave him a long, deep look. “When you’re old and want to buy health supplements, remember to call me.”
Xu Shaoqiu: “…”
He said bitterly, “Do you really think I’m just—like this—now? Do you know how hard it is to find a player who can keep up with your pace? Even Lao Ma and the others, who’ve played against you for years and know your style, sometimes struggle. I know that in order to match the team, you’ve been playing much more cautiously than when you first entered the scene—less reckless than before.”
The man sighed, his expression tinged with sadness as he looked at Yin Sijue. “I just don’t want you to have to compromise again.
“I really want to be showered in gold with everyone at PGC again.”
Yin Sijue gave a helpless smile, finished his coffee, and walked to the sink to rinse out his cup—choosing not to mock him further.
Xu Shaoqiu went on, “Of course, I don’t know if anyone who can truly keep up with your pace even exists. Maybe I’m just too greedy, wanting more than just the status quo.”
The other man didn’t answer. He kept scrubbing at a black spot on the cup, his fingertips rubbing over it again and again as the water gurgled, yet it still wouldn’t come off.
After several tries, he realized it wasn’t dirt at all, but a flaw in the glaze.
He turned off the faucet, suddenly feeling drained and adrift.
He wasn’t some god—of course there had to be someone who could keep up.
Of course there was.
It was just that he hadn’t been able to find him again.