Chapter 62 – Go Home
For Xu Shaoqiu, as long as he wasn’t calling anyone, it was mostly nothing serious.
The thirty-plus messages Ji Wei received were nothing but complaints from middle-aged men.
[Resolved! The Eight O’Clock Club’s official blog will release a clarification announcement (PS: I know you’re competing, but I still want to let you know)]
[Fuck, why did you cancel your account? Aren’t you going to play anymore, huh?]
[Huh? Just quit your account!!!]
[Fuck, it seems to be working pretty well, but all the evidence I’ve been gathering seems useless now.]
[Unique, go for it!!!]
…
Ji Wei slept until noon and dazedly glanced at his messages. His WeChat was full of friends expressing shock at the news that he was WEI. He tried to get up to call Xu Shaoqiu back, but found himself completely limp, unable to straighten his back.
His back and legs ached, especially the soft flesh at the base of his legs; it was both painful and itchy. He pushed himself up to examine it and discovered not only red marks from rubbing but also several unfamiliar tooth marks.
Ji Wei: “…”
Seeing Yin Sijue still asleep, Ji Wei was so angry he wanted to kick him.
He moved to act, but before his heel could land, he was grabbed. Yin Sijue gripped his slender ankle and slowly opened his eyes; his vision was now clear.
“You woke up a while ago?” Yin Sijue asked. Ji Wei grew even more furious and slammed himself into the pillow with a dull thud, like cotton colliding.
Yin Sijue’s eyes curved in laughter. Ji Wei’s recent temper wasn’t annoying at all; it was rather endearing.
He pulled Ji Wei out of the pillow like a carrot, kissed him on the cheek, and asked, “Are you feeling any discomfort?”
“Nothing!”
“You make me feel so great when you say that.”
“…Get lost.”
After making him blush, Yin Sijue touched his cheek soothingly. “We’ll go out and get some ointment later.”
Ji Wei said sullenly, “Let’s call Brother Qiu first. He tried to contact me last night, but I didn’t answer.”
“Okay.” Yin Sijue took the phone and called.
The call was answered quickly. “Finally—you know who’s calling? Where’s my Unique?”
Yin Sijue’s voice was weary. “How did he become yours?”
Xu Shaoqiu said calmly, “Ever since he exposed his fake username at the All-Star Game last night, Unique’s personal super topic ranking has surpassed yours. Now he’s my darling—my pension insurance for the rest of my life! If Ji Wei returns from Taipei City with even a hair missing, I’ll definitely come after you.”
Yin Sijue smiled indifferently and glanced at Ji Wei beside him. The boy lay on his side, looking at him, his cheek pressed into the pillow. A single hair had just fallen onto the white pillowcase.
He reattached the hair to Ji Wei’s bewildered face and continued on the other end of the phone, “Are we going back tomorrow?”
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to tell you—about coming back,” Xu Shaoqiu said sternly. “You have to be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest. We have scrimmages tonight.”
Yin Sijue frowned. “What’s so urgent about scrimmages? We have to catch a flight in the afternoon and play at night. Can’t it be postponed to the day after tomorrow?”
Xu Shaoqiu replied in a steady voice, “It’s part of the SOP arrangement.”
“The six PKL teams that qualified for the World Championship are here, and they’ve also arranged matches with the six teams that advanced from the PCL.”
Yin Sijue paused. “Whose servers are we using? Have all the other teams agreed?”
Different servers in different regions come with varying latency. Although clubs now use dedicated accelerators, internet speeds are still unpredictable. In a high-intensity game like PUBG, even a delay of two or three seconds can easily cost a team its advantage.
“Everyone agreed. After all, we’ve never had the chance to scrimmage with such a complete lineup before.” Xu Shaoqiu glanced at the email. “We’re playing on the Korean server. They’ll send out room codes and even provide sparring partners.”
Yin Sijue was about to speak when Xu Shaoqiu continued, “I know you’re concerned. Playing on the Korean server does put us in a relatively passive position. But after today’s discussions, all the managers agreed this is a rare opportunity. Losing doesn’t matter. The point is to test the waters. Youyou specifically asked them not to share the results of these scrimmages, and they agreed.”
Yin Sijue was silent for a moment, then said, “Aren’t you worried your teammates will lose their heads if they lose?”
“Who’ll lose their heads? Those guys are all seasoned veterans. As for Unique, he wasn’t nervous even in his first playoff appearance. Have you ever seen him lose his composure?”
Yes, he did last night in bed.
Of course, Yin Sijue couldn’t say that. Instead, he said, “Alright, we’ll head back early tomorrow.”
After hanging up, Yin Sijue hugged Ji Wei—who had been eavesdropping nearby—and buried his head in his neck, taking a deep breath.
Goosebumps quickly rose behind Ji Wei’s ears. He tilted his head slightly and asked, “Can we really schedule scrimmages with Korean teams?”
“We’ve never done it before.” Yin Sijue raised his head and blinked slowly. “It’s a rare opportunity indeed. It’s your first Worlds, and this can be a good warm-up.”
“Then we still have one day.” Ji Wei climbed out of bed and faced Yin Sijue. “Where do you want to go? I’ll be your guide!”
…
One hour later.
The two, neatly dressed, stood at the gate of Ji Wei’s high school, blending seamlessly into the throng of students.
“No, but seriously, why are you coming to my school when you don’t want to visit all the scenic spots in Taipei?” Ji Wei asked, puzzled.
Yin Sijue: “I want to see where my boyfriend grew up. Is that okay?”
“…not that it’s impossible.”
Although it was summer vacation, Ji Wei’s former high school still offered remedial classes for pre-senior students, making it easy for the two of them to slip inside.
It had rained the previous night, and the air was filled with a crisp, damp freshness. The breeze carried the faint smell of earth, along with a slight fishy odor.
They strolled through the campus, feeling as if they had truly grown up together.
Ji Wei pointed at the low wall by the school’s back door. “I used to climb over here all the time to play games with you.”
“It’s so hard to climb! If it were even an inch higher, I wouldn’t have been able to get out. Back then…”
As he walked closer, Ji Wei’s voice trailed off.
After all these years, the top of the wall had been covered with sharp shards of glass. It was impossible for anyone to climb over now.
“…” Ji Wei’s eyes dimmed, and he pulled Yin Sijue a little farther away.
Someone wrapped a warm hand around his own, kneading it soothingly. Yin Sijue looked down at him and sighed with heartache.
“If only I had met you sooner.”
“What are you saying?” Ji Wei looked up in shock. “I was only fourteen when I met you. How much earlier do you want?”
“…Not that kind of meeting you.” Yin Sijue coughed softly. “I mean, I wish I had been by your side sooner.”
That way, perhaps you wouldn’t have suffered so much.
At least you wouldn’t be walking around this campus now, unable to find a single memory of yourself.
“Let’s go.” Yin Sijue tugged at his hand. “There’s nothing much to see.”
Ji Wei was a little surprised. “That’s it? There’s a Wall of Fame over there with photos of famous alumni. Our school even had a Nobel Prize winner. Don’t you want to take a look?”
“Is Ji Wei one of those famous alumni?”
Ji Wei blinked, caught off guard. “Of course not. What are you talking about?”
“That’s rather unrefined. I won’t look at it.” Yin Sijue led him away. “I don’t think that Wall of Fame has much value.”
…
As they left the school, a light, steady rain began to fall again.
Yin Sijue bought an umbrella at a nearby supermarket and picked up some ointment for Ji Wei to apply. The rain was heavy when they stepped out, so they huddled under the eaves for shelter.
A drop of water slid off the eaves and splashed onto the ground. Ji Wei glanced back at the familiar alley, thinking of the puppy he had never seen again.
He let out a soft breath and looked at the person beside him. “When we retire, let’s get a Bichon Frise together, okay?”
“Okay.” Yin Sijue didn’t ask why. Instead, he lowered his head and asked softly, “Are you unhappy? It’s my fault for asking you to bring me here.”
Ji Wei leaned against his sturdy arm and shook his head slightly. “No.”
When the rain eased, Yin Sijue opened the umbrella and prepared to take him back.
He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and suggested, “How about we change our flight back to Hai City today? There’s nothing else to do—”
“Ji Wei?”
A surprised female voice echoed from behind them, making Ji Wei’s breath hitch, his heart nearly stopping.
This trip to Taipei, he had run into so many old acquaintances.
He sighed, pursed his lips, and turned to face the people behind him. The past replayed before his eyes like a slideshow.
“Long time no see, Mom.”
At the sound of that call, Yin Sijue’s pupils shrank. He instinctively stepped in front of Ji Wei, shielding him, frowning as he stared at the woman whose features bore a striking resemblance to Ji Wei.
Ji’s mother wore exquisite makeup, and a pair of clear glasses framed her face, reflecting a chilling gaze.
She hadn’t come alone.
A little boy trailed after her, struggling under the weight of a large backpack far too heavy for his age.
The child tugged at the woman’s trouser leg, looked up, and asked innocently, “Are you calling me, Mom? Who is this brother?”
Ji Wei’s heart sank. He glanced at the backpack on the boy’s shoulders. It was the kindergarten’s standard issue, with a name tag clearly printed:
[Sunflower Little Class Ji Wei]
“You…”
The absurdity of the scene nearly knocked Ji Wei off his feet. He gasped and asked in disbelief, “What do you mean by that?”
For an instant, Mother Ji’s expression faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. Behind her glasses, her eyes were as cold as they had been three years ago. She lifted her chin and said evenly, “As you can see.”
She scanned Ji Wei from head to toe with a razor-sharp gaze and demanded coldly, “If you escaped, why did you come back? Are you not doing well?”
“Don’t worry about that. He’s doing well now.” Yin Sijue’s voice was frosty. He stepped forward, blocking Ji Wei’s way, his glare fierce as he said in a deep voice:
“He just won the national championship, and he’ll win the world championship soon. Isn’t that enough for you?”
Mother Ji’s eyes flickered briefly, but she quickly regained her cold demeanor and glared back at Yin Sijue.
“Who are you?” she asked, her gaze dropping to their clasped hands. Her brow furrowed in disgust. “Did you lead him astray? He refused to attend high school, insisted on playing games, and even ran away from home!”
She turned her sharp gaze back to Ji Wei, her voice laced with disdain. “So what if you won a championship? How many years can you keep it up? If you had studied properly and graduated, your father could have found you a good job—enough to provide for you for the rest of your life.”
“I don’t need it.” Ji Wei couldn’t even be bothered to argue. “I’m only back to compete. I won’t be staying long—I’ll be leaving soon.”
He stopped himself there. He couldn’t bear to say more in front of the child. Suppressing his anger, he added, “No matter what your reasons, never pin your expectations on others—especially on children. They are always innocent.”
“Mom?” The boy patted Ji’s mother’s leg in confusion. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Nothing.” Ji’s mother didn’t even glance at him. “Stand still, and wear your backpack properly.”
Ji Wei felt that hearing this kind of talk too often was enough to give him PTSD. He let out a heavy sigh, pulled Yin Sijue along, and flagged down a taxi on the spot.
Before getting in the car, he thought he saw his mother raise her hand, as if to stop him.
But in the end, she didn’t say anything.
What answered her was the sharp, crisp sound of a door slamming shut.
The car carrying Ji Wei sped off through the rain.
…
It was only halfway through the ride that Ji Wei slowly began to recover from the shock and absurdity of it all.
He turned seriously to Yin Sijue and asked, “Would you say this is like her scrapping her main account and starting over with a smurf?”
After saying that, he paused for two seconds, then couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “And she didn’t even bother changing the name.”
Yin Sijue had been observing his state closely. Seeing that Ji Wei wasn’t on the verge of losing control, he finally felt reassured. He answered seriously, “You are one of a kind.”
Raindrops slid down the taxi window, their streaks reflected in the shifting light and shadow on Ji Wei’s face, almost as if he were shedding tears.
But Ji Wei wasn’t crying. He only let out a faint sigh and said to the person beside him, “Let’s reschedule. Let’s go back today.”
The last flight to Hai City was at seven o’clock. Since there was nothing to do at the hotel, the two of them arrived at the airport at six to wait for boarding.
Yin Sijue had expected Ji Wei to be more downcast than usual today. Unexpectedly, he spent the whole ride grinning at his phone and furiously taking screenshots.
“What are you looking at?”
Ji Wei laughed so hard he honked like a goose, then handed his phone to Yin Sijue. “I haven’t properly checked Weibo since yesterday. Everyone’s hilarious.”
On the screen was a congratulatory post automatically sent by the platform after Ji Wei had won the All-Star championship.
[@AVG_Unique: Congratulations to me for winning the PCL Division Championship at the Aurora TV PUBG All-Star Game! Click to view the highlights [/link]]
The top comment was still from that king of memes, @OnlyHisMom.
[OnlyHisMom: In my past life, I was the #1 PUBG Asia server god—peerless skills, beauty at my side. But in the end, I was betrayed by sinister villains, left unknown, playing like a rat for life. Fortunately, heaven had mercy and gave me another chance. Reborn into Team AVG, this time I’ll reclaim everything that’s rightfully mine with my own hands! (Search Aurora TV 166888 to see how I take it all back)]
“‘Beauty at my side’? Is he talking about you? Hahahaha!” Ji Wei laughed until tears formed in his eyes. “I never used to get these rebirth memes, but now I realize they’re so funny. Next time I’ll have to read a few of those novels.”
Yin Sijue couldn’t help but smile as well, the corners of his lips curving upward. He scrolled further down from that comment, where Ji Wei’s fans and Jue’s fans were busy checking in and leaving comments.
[Wei, do you know how I’ve been living since last night? You don’t.]
[I’m manually unblocking all the WEI fans from my blacklist, one by one. Who understands how embarrassing this is for me?]
[Do you think I didn’t block all of you Unique fans yesterday?]
[Alright, stop fighting. We’re all family now. We need to love each other.]
[Funny, the “family members” above didn’t sound like this yesterday when they said my family tree only had one page.]
[Is anyone going to manage this chaos? Where’s Unique? She dropped a bomb and disappeared! She didn’t even post an acceptance speech on Weibo after winning the championship.]
[He’s probably busy with her husband. Not online right now. They’d better be doing what I’m thinking.]
[They’d better be.]
[They must be.]
Ji Wei, staring at that outrageous comment, silently admitted: That was true.
Yin Sijue seemed to be scrutinizing every post. Not satisfied with just the comments, he clicked into the reposts. To his surprise, the top repost came from @JueWei, Number One in the World—even the official AVG account ranked below her.
Ever since Mrs. Juewei’s prediction had come true, she’d risen to fame, becoming a well-known CP fangirl blogger, and everyone happily reposted her content.
[@JueWei, Number One in the World: New fans can check my pinned compilation, which covers the whole journey of these two, from their first meeting until now~ // @AVG_Unique: Congratulations on winning…]
Seeing that username, Ji Wei was reminded of what had happened last night. A blush crept up his ears, and he stole a glance at Yin Sijue.
Then he saw Yin Sijue casually click on the pinned post on her profile.
Ji Wei: “…What are you doing?”
Thankfully, I added her as an invisible user!
Yin Sijue replied matter-of-factly, “Don’t you want to see how we met?”
At the top was a collection of links titled “The Journey of Delicious Flavors,” arranged neatly in order from top to bottom:
- First Encounter: Live Broadcast Room (stream)
- Meeting: Base Room (stream)
- Getting to Know: Computer Desk (stream)
- Love: Championship Night, Hotel Floor-to-Ceiling Window (stream)
…
The following content, from the biggest stadium moments down to the tiniest details of every position, was laid out in painstaking, crystal-clear detail.
Ji Wei’s face went utterly blank, as if a downpour had washed him clean of all expression, erased by these blunt and audacious words.
What the hell!? What is this??
After reading all this, Ji Wei almost forgot the word “play.”
“You can organize Weibo posts like this?” Yin Sijue seemed to have discovered something new. With great satisfaction, he tapped Save in the top right corner of the post.
Ji Wei stared at him speechlessly. “Do you know whose account you’re using right now?”
Yin Sijue replied with a half-smile. “It’s fine. You’ll see it anyway, won’t you?”
Ji Wei: …
A notification suddenly popped up: New Weibo +1. The blogger had just updated a post a few minutes ago—it was yet another screenshot.
Ji Wei was practically traumatized by this blogger’s endless screenshots.
[@JueWei, Number One in the World: [Picture] Who’s visiting me incognito? So hard to guess.]
Ji Wei: ==!
The comments were also starting to get a little snarky:
[So hard to guess.]
[We, the Wei Army, have always been upright! We never hide when we eat! Even passing dogs would say it’s delicious, so why would we sneak around? @AVG_Unique I’m talking about you. Why didn’t you give her a like before leaving? How rude!]
Yin Sijue turned to him. “How about I give her a like before we leave?”
Ji Wei took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Easy for you to say. Let me remind you—this is my Weibo. You won’t be the one socially devastated.”
Yin Sijue pretended to pull out his phone. “Then I’ll just use my own Weibo.”
Ji Wei glared at him resentfully. When he saw Yin Sijue actually about to click, Ji Wei panicked and grabbed his hand. “…Don’t click.”
“I’ll tell you when I see something worth liking.”
…
It was impossible to stop him with words; Ji Wei was only stalling for time. He had already made plans for tonight: take a taxi back to base as soon as he got off the plane, enjoy a hot shower, then collapse into bed to savor the food he’d been craving the past two days.
But he had completely forgotten about his good teammates, who had only just learned of his alternate identity yesterday.
By the time he returned to base, it was almost eleven o’clock. Dusty and exhausted, Ji Wei dragged his suitcase through the door—only to find the members of both AVG teams sitting in a row on the living room sofa.
Like owls, they all turned to stare at him the moment the door opened.
The scene was so eerie that goosebumps broke out all over his body.
“…What are you doing?”
Everyone stayed silent, their eyes locked on him.
After staring at each other for five minutes, Da Shu couldn’t hold it in anymore and spoke first: “I hate you.”
What kind of dramatic statement was that? Ji Wei asked, “What do you hate me for?”
“I hate you for pretending to be a pig that eats the tiger! I hate you for acting so powerful every day!”
“How could I?”
Like a commoner pleading guilty before a magistrate, Da Shu tearfully enumerated Ji Wei’s crimes: “When I first saw you and my brother so perfectly matched, I wondered if I wasn’t cooperating well with my teammates. It turns out you two aren’t brothers from a past life, but old friends in this one!”
Why was it so exaggerated? Ji Wei quickly clarified, “No old feelings!”
Ban added quietly, “Didn’t you say Solve was your idol? Turns out you were just role-playing.”
Ji Wei had no choice but to admit he had fabricated the idol story. The truth was, he had joined the team for Yin Sijue. Even if he had a hundred mouths, he still wouldn’t have dared to reveal that they’d known each other three years ago.
Yin Sijue asked with great interest, “What else? What did he say?”
Everyone began exposing one another’s secrets.
Ban: “He said he likes Solve the most.”
Dragon: “I wanted to add you as a friend but couldn’t. I was so sad.”
Jerry: “I was secretly angry when I saw you getting beaten to death during the game.”
Ban, fanning the flames: “During the regular season, I almost cried watching you get dragged down by Wolf.”
Ji Wei’s private image was stripped bare, leaving him feeling like a spectacle. “…Stop talking.”
Ban pointed at Jerry’s foot. “WEI God needs to compensate us for emotional damages. Jerry was so shocked when he saw you switch accounts during the game that he stubbed his little toe. The team doctor’s preliminary diagnosis is a sprain.”
Ji Wei: …Are you here to scam me?
Xu Shaoqiu had seen enough from the sidelines and came over to shoo them away. “Alright, alright, they just got off the plane. Let them rest.”
Although Jerry had sprained his toe, he seemed to be walking just fine. Before leaving, he pulled Ji Wei aside and whispered, “Actually, I saw your gameplay videos on Tieba a long time ago.”
“I’m so happy you’re WEI God. I really am.”
Ji Wei looked into his sincere eyes, warmth spreading through his chest. He quietly stuffed Jerry with a bag of Taipei specialties he’d bought at the airport and said with a smile, “I’m so happy to be your teammate.”
Jerry: “Yeah! Good luck at Worlds. I’ll be waiting for your good news!”
After sending off the chattering teammates, Ji Wei carried his luggage back to his room and stood by the window in a daze for a while.
The night outside resembled a smudged ink painting. A light breeze rustled the leaves, deepening the silence. Ji Wei could almost hear his own steady heartbeat.
His phone screen lit up—a goodnight message from Yin Sijue.
After replying, Ji Wei’s thoughts wandered back to seeing his mother that day. Old memories suddenly surged, and her cold words stung even more than they had three years ago. But now, between him and that pain stood Yin Sijue, his broad shoulders like an unshakable wall.
The endless rain in the northern city had already stopped by the time they landed in Hai City. On this clear night with a bright moon and sparse stars, Ji Wei could no longer catch that damp, earthy scent that lingered after the rain.