Chapter 53 – Your wife likes watching naughty stuff — does that turn you on? Say something!
In such a large circle, a Weibo post visible only to fans couldn’t stay hidden for long.
Soon, this screenshot began circulating wildly across PUBG forums and fan sites, and the woman gained tens of thousands of followers.
Everyone mercilessly mocked the socially despairing protagonist in the comments.
[Goodness! How could Unique, this seemingly innocent little kid, be reading this behind my back!]
[This is so cute! Hahaha! I can’t imagine how he managed to read through it all with such curiosity and shyness.]
[Another victim of Sina SVIP… This is so embarrassing, my dear! I’m embarrassed for you!!]
[Madam Juewei, it’s not just Unique suffering social despair tonight — you should be too.]
It was late at night after training when Ji Wei found out.
He’d opened Weibo as usual, looking for something to eat, when he discovered his private messages had suddenly exploded.
Every message said the same thing: [Baby, remember to delete your visit history next time!]
“What visit history?” Ji Wei’s right eyelid twitched, a bad feeling rising deep within him.
Clicking into the private messages, he saw that every fan had thoughtfully attached the screenshot already circulating online.
Ji Wei opened the image, stared at it for a full minute, then peacefully closed his eyes.
Well, it’s fine, it’s fine. I just got caught reading porn. Nothing at all!!!
Ji Wei collapsed, hands clutching his head, eyes trembling, and wailed at the heavens.
What is this visitor history feature? Did Weibo even have this before? Isn’t this a QQ Zone thing?
And forget just showing visitor history — what’s with “frequent visits”?
Did I really view it that many times?!
Okay. Ji Wei bit his finger, recalling what happened last night. It did seem… plausible.
Several times, he’d stumbled across content so stimulating he couldn’t help logging out and scrolling elsewhere, only to click back in again moments later.
It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.
Ji Wei returned to his Weibo profile.
Now he could only pray that the picture wouldn’t go fully viral.
The latest update on his profile was a repost of AVG’s daily team-building video, presumably from Xu Shaoqiu.
Before he even clicked it, he noticed the interaction count had more than doubled compared to yesterday.
“…” Ji Wei mentally prepared himself for five full minutes before opening the comments section.
[Social Death Check-In]
[Social Death Check-In +1, thoughtfully attached screenshot [picture]]
[Anyone talking about wheat bran can get lost — my family is really killing me this time!]
[Even though it’s embarrassing, I still have to say it: I’m dying of laughter!]
Even [JueWei, Number One in the World] himself came to Ji Wei’s Weibo and left a long comment:
[I’m the fanfic author. Can Wei Bao please tell me which one I like best? I’ll write it for you every day! Is it the navel orange one, the ABO one, the crossdressing one, or the blindfolded-computer-desk one? I can write them all!]
For a moment, Ji Wei’s heart was touched, and he even felt the urge to reply.
Favorite… like hell!! Isn’t this embarrassing enough already?!
On the verge of tears, Ji Wei looked up some guides online, then angrily bought himself a year of SVIP membership.
Delete! I have to delete all my visitor records!
But the moment his payment went through—
[@AVG_Unique: I upgraded to SVIP today! 43+ exclusive benefits, a new era of membership begins!]
Ahhhhh! What kind of garbage auto-posts this on Weibo the second you buy it?!
Ji Wei screamed! Howled! With the speed of a Jedi pulling off a 1v4, he deleted it in a split second—
But it was too late.
It was already peak evening traffic. Everyone rushed to Ji Wei’s Weibo to join in the fun, and sharp-eyed fans immediately took screenshots, mocking him mercilessly in the comments.
[Hahaha, you want to delete the visitor log? No chance!]
[Showed up and instead of clarifying, started covering up… I’m losing my mind!]
[Help… when will my secondhand embarrassment end?!]
[Baby, you’re so stupid!]
[Please, someone give me a pair of eyes peeking over the screen—our Villeroy & Boch must be blushing right now.]
Being mocked wasn’t the worst part. What truly made Ji Wei despair was that #UniqueVisitorLog was steadily climbing onto the trending search list.
As the popularity grew, so did the hate.
[Doesn’t anyone else find this disgusting? Reading fanfiction about your own teammates? If I were Solve, I’d be terrified.]
[Solve is so pitiful… being harassed by someone like this.]
[Still selling gaybait? Even after SOP hinted at it, he’s still doing it? Watch him go silent when he gets torn apart.]
[What did Solve do wrong in all this? Stop dragging him into it!]
[@AVG Club Official: You’re really letting someone like that play on the same team as my husband?]
Ji Wei didn’t care about the negativity—he only wanted the hype to die down.
He frantically searched every platform for ways to remove a trending search, desperately hoping Yin Sijue hadn’t seen the post.
Maybe he’s already asleep? With his old-man sleep schedule, he shouldn’t have seen anything.
Yes… that must be it.
But things didn’t go as planned. The next second, a red dot suddenly appeared under his followers’ comments.
@AVG_Solve replied to @Jueshen Mengnu’s comment: [I’m not disgusted, nor am I afraid. I hope everyone won’t use my name to leave negative comments about Unique. I’ll block them all.]
…
Yin Sijue’s own response only poured fuel onto the flames of Ji Wei’s social-death incident.
AVG fans, Solve fans, fans from other teams just here for the spectacle, and random onlookers all swarmed in.
The fandom was in chaos, and the CP shippers were already having the time of their lives.
[Yeah, you’re not scared. You watched it too, didn’t you?]
[Are you really okay knowing your wife likes reading this stuff? Come on, admit it!]
[@JueWei, Number One in the World I noticed Solve doesn’t even have an SVIP membership. Ma’am, remember to check your visitor history tomorrow.]
[Not sure if bloggers know this, but: Weibo actually gives out VVIP membership once you reach a certain number of followers. You can delete your visitor history that way.]
[So he doesn’t even need to waste hundreds of yuan on a year-long SVIP, right?]
[Help! Give Wei Bao some face, he’s looking so dumb right now.]
Ji Wei was already drained, and reading that last comment made his heart ache even more.
He’d spent over two hundred yuan, and now they were saying it was pointless?
Without even having time to regret the money, he quickly messaged Yin Sijue:
Weiwei Dounan: [Don’t buy that membership! Weibo gives it away!]
The “typing” bubble on the other side flashed a few times, and then—unable to hold back—Yin Sijue called directly.
Ji Wei nervously tapped [Answer.] A low, mellow voice, slightly tired, came through the receiver.
“Why should I buy a membership?”
“Did you see that Weibo post…” Ji Wei’s shame at being caught resurfaced, and he muttered, “If I did, it would leave a record. They’ll see it tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Yin Sijue paused briefly, then spoke calmly. “So what if it leaves a record? Didn’t you leave one too?”
“…” Ji Wei glanced at the dark window beside him, thinking he might just pretend he hadn’t heard.
When he didn’t respond, Yin Sijue lowered his voice, his tone soft and magnetic, enough to make anyone’s heart skip.
“So it’s Unique. I’m curious too.”
He drew out his words, his voice dangerously alluring.
“Which one do you like best?”
Beep—
Ji Wei ended the call without hesitation.
…
The next day was the scheduled expedition poster shoot that Xu Shaoqiu had arranged.
Everyone woke up yawning and piled into the car to head for the studio.
“I’m so sleepy,” Da Shu said groggily. “I’ve been staying up late and getting up early, and now I’ve got a huge pimple. How am I supposed to shoot like this?”
Xu Shaoqiu snapped, “I told you we were shooting the expedition photos today. Why didn’t you go to bed earlier?”
“That’s why—” Da Shu started, but mid-sentence his eyes flicked to Ji Wei, who was fast asleep in the back seat, leaning against the captain’s shoulder. Da Shu had been ready to gossip about last night, but a single cold glance from Solve instantly shut him up.
Damn it, having a partner really is unfair. Da Shu slumped back in his seat, muttering under his breath, “Fine, I’ll just sleep too.”
The studio, a long-time partner of the league, was well-versed in shooting player photos. As soon as they arrived, everyone was assigned to change into PUBG’s new special combat uniforms.
Ji Wei had stayed up too late the night before, and even after getting off the bus he was still half-asleep. He sat with his eyes closed while the makeup artist worked on him.
“Oh my god, your new team member is this good-looking?” The makeup artist studied Ji Wei’s face, then glared at Xu Shaoqiu. “How dare you hide a face like this? You should’ve brought him in ages ago for a promo shoot!”
Xu Shaoqiu rolled his eyes. “He was our secret weapon back then. How could he have done a promo shoot? Just focus on the makeup. We’re esports players, not internet celebrities.”
“Stop micromanaging other people’s work,” the makeup artist said dismissively, dragging out a massive kit and opening it.
“…” Da Shu nearly choked. “Teacher, you literally painted me using the sample in a plastic bag.”
The makeup artist ignored him, turning back to Ji Wei as he applied foundation. “Your dark circles are practically falling to the floor. No matter how much I cover, they’re still there. Zero artistic potential.”
Then he glanced back at Ji Wei. “But wow—how is your skin this good? No visible pores! I don’t even need primer or concealer. Perfect.”
Ji Wei squirmed a little under the brush. “Teacher, please don’t make it too heavy. We only need it for the shoot. We’ve got training after this.”
“It’ll be quick. Leave it to me. I’m a professional.”
When the makeup was finished, the curtain behind them rustled—and out stepped Yin Sijue, already changed.
The man had broad shoulders and a narrow waist, his long legs fitted perfectly into slim camouflage pants. His combat boots hugged the curve of his calves. Feeling the heat, he’d rolled his sleeves halfway up, baring his strong, well-toned arms.
Ji Wei’s throat went dry at the sight.
“Eyes on me! Don’t look away—I’m shooting my masterpiece here!” the photographer called. “This is my best work this year!”
Ji Wei snapped back, forcing a polite smile and posing for the camera.
As soon as the shoot wrapped, Ji Wei shot to his feet, eager to sneak another look at his boyfriend in uniform. But when he turned, Yin Sijue was already standing right behind him.
“You look amazing in this outfit!” Ji Wei’s eyes sparkled as he looked up. “Do you think I’ll look that good in mine later?”
Yin Sijue only stared down at him silently.
The boy’s naturally fair, flawless cheeks were only lightly brushed with foundation and a soft blush. His round, doe-like eyes, now accented with upturned eyeliner, carried a hint of seduction — like a captivating little fox.
So beautiful it made one want to hide him away.
“Oh, lipstick is left!” the makeup artist chirped, rummaging through her bag. “Ah, here it is — a real man-killer. Come on, let’s put it on.”
“No makeup,” Yin Sijue cut in, pulling Ji Wei away with blunt finality. Before Ji Wei could even react, he had already been dragged three steps back.
“Why?” the makeup artist called out in protest.
“He hasn’t even changed yet. It’s too late for the photos anyway, so just leave it at that,” Yin Sijue said casually.
…
The photo shoot went smoothly. Out of some unspoken selfishness, as soon as the expedition photos wrapped, Yin Sijue took Ji Wei straight over to remove his makeup.
“What a waste!” the makeup artist clutched her chest in despair. “Such a beautiful creation, gone so soon!”
Ji Wei didn’t really like wearing makeup. He gave the artist an apologetic smile before heading into the bathroom with Yin Sijue to wash it off.
“What time did you sleep last night?”
Ji Wei, wiping water from his face, froze at the sound of Yin Sijue’s low voice.
The social-death incident instantly replayed in his mind, making his scalp prickle with shame.
He looked up at Yin Sijue earnestly. “I went to bed right after hanging up your call…”
It was a lie. In reality, he’d given in and finished reading the latest chapter before finally collapsing into bed.
“Really?” Yin Sijue reached out, brushing the lingering water droplets from Ji Wei’s lashes. Without saying whether he believed him or not, he took his hand and led him out.
“Next time, remember to tell me which one you like best.”
Ji Wei: “…”
Can’t you just not ask that? T-T
…
That afternoon they had a practice match scheduled, so the team didn’t linger long in the studio. They returned to base and jumped straight into training.
The entire day was crammed with shooting and scrims, leaving everyone dead tired, human or ghost alike.
By nine o’clock, Da Shu was the first to break, whining tearfully.
“I’m going to throw up. I haven’t been in the circle once in three games. Brother Qiu, are you doing this on purpose? Did you use a custom map just to crush your teammates’ morale?”
Ji Wei, sleep-deprived and seeing stars, still found the energy to correct him: “It was four games. And I did enter the circle once — ran 900 meters for it.”
The memory of that grim marathon came rushing back. Da Shu turned to Xu Shaoqiu with a tragic expression.
“Brother Qiu, I really don’t want to see my teammates’ IDs anymore. Can I please just play a few solo matches for fun?”
“Fine, fine,” Xu Shaoqiu said, exasperated. “We’ll review tomorrow. Tonight is free practice. And if anyone’s behind on their stream time this month, go make it up. If you’re already too far behind… I’ll let it slide.”
“Certain people” specifically referred to the two young lovers. Ji Wei guiltily left his seat and headed to the pantry for a bottle of milk.
After staring at his computer all afternoon, he stood up, swaying slightly, and weakly climbed the stairs, clinging to the handrail.
I really need to exercise, he thought as he walked. He reached the pantry, groggily opened the top cabinet, grabbed a carton of milk, and turned to leave.
Bang!
Inadvertently, Ji Wei smacked his head against the cabinet door he’d forgotten to close.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!
The pain jolted him fully awake. He touched his forehead, forcing out a few tears as his vision blurred.
The spot where he had hit quickly began to heat and swell, forming a small lump.
Clutching his forehead, Ji Wei trudged back downstairs, convinced Mercury must have been in retrograde these past two days.
In the training room, Yin Sijue had just finished watching the elimination replay when he noticed Ji Wei — who had gone upstairs for milk — return with tears in his eyes, clutching his head.
“What’s wrong?” He frowned and hurried over.
“I hit my head.” Ji Wei held his forehead tightly. “It’s swollen. Don’t look — I must look like a monster right now.”
His eyes were red from the pain, his voice thick with grievance. “I’m so unlucky today.”
As expected, Ji Wei only acted spoiled when he was feeling weak. Yin Sijue’s gaze softened as he gently touched Ji Wei’s hand, which was covering the bump.
“No, let me see. I’ll put some medicine on it.”
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Ji Wei slowly lowered his hand.
“It’s okay, it’s not serious.” Yin Sijue bent down and kissed the spot. “Just a little swollen. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
“Mhm…” Hearing it wasn’t serious, Ji Wei finally felt relieved and buried his face against Yin Sijue’s chest.
Not long after, he felt a hand press against the back of his head. The man holding him suddenly turned, shifting Ji Wei around as well.
“What…” Ji Wei was about to look up when his boyfriend’s cold voice cut him off.
“Why are you staring at me instead of playing the game?”
Yin Sijue had noticed the stares the moment Ji Wei walked in.
Da Shu, sitting at the streamer’s seat, had glanced back at them thirty times in a single minute. It was impossible not to notice.
Not wanting Ji Wei to be exposed like this, Yin Sijue pulled him into his arms, expression darkening.
Da Shu opened his mouth several times but swallowed his words back. He sneaked guilty looks at the two behind him, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t get him killed.
“Uh, um…”
“I’m… live streaming…”