Chapter 63 – The Self-Cultivation of Lao Liu
The next day, Ji Wei woke up earlier than usual and decided to do a livestream for the first time in ages.
Last night, as planned, he’d happily devoured a big bowl of Juewei rice, and his sleep quality reached its peak — deep and dreamless.
After waking up, Ji Wei casually flipped through his private messages and found that the fans’ cries of “Please go live!” could probably circle the island twice, with several familiar names among them.
A husband should always pay special attention to his wife’s needs.
At 2 p.m., the weed-covered [Wei Ta Nai] livestream room suddenly went live without warning.
Almost the moment the screen appeared, comments poured in. Fans who had been obsessed with gossip these past few days flooded in at once.
[“Ahhhhh! What is this! A surprise stream!”]
[“Great timing! I just sent you a DM and you went live!”]
[“I heard WEI God will be streaming here from now on? He just downloaded the app and he’s already live!”]
[“Congrats, baby, on winning the All-Star Championship!”]
“Hello everyone, long time no see.”
In front of the camera, Ji Wei’s bright deer-like eyes sparkled. When he spoke, the tip of a small fang peeked out.
[“So this is what WEI looks like! Without photos or a mic before, I thought he was some middle-aged guy. Didn’t expect him to be this young!”]
[“Hahaha, so why didn’t you use a mic back then?”]
“I didn’t use the mic because I was going through my voice change — my voice was awful at the time.”
There were so many comments that Ji Wei could only catch one or two at a time. He said with some difficulty, “Everyone, please just call me Unique from now on. There are too many nicknames, and they’re making me dizzy.”
[“Voice change?! Oh right, he was only 14 back then!”]
[“Ranked number one at 14… what a genius!”]
[“Too many nicknames, huh? Who told you to have so many smurf accounts at that age!”]
[“I want to see a duo stream! The kids haven’t eaten in ages!”]
[“Where’s your husband? Where’s your husband? Where’s your husband?”]
“My old—” Ji Wei froze for a second, his neck stiffening. “Old man my ass! Don’t talk nonsense!”
Seeing that the comments were getting too wild, he added, his ears turning red, “He’s got a practice match tonight. He’s in a meeting with the coach.”
[“He admitted it!”]
[“He admitted it!!”]
[“How could I possibly deserve such good food? sob sob sob“]
[“What are we streaming today, baby?”]
[“Nonsense! He’s even got his old username back — they’re definitely doing great!”]
[“Dry weather.”]
“What are you all saying? Today’s our long-lost regular segment,” Ji Wei said, blinking playfully.
Seeing that the comments didn’t seem very excited, he raised his hand and started clapping for himself.
“Clap clap clap!”
“Finally, after a thousand calls—the Legendary Hiding-and-Surviving Tutorial!”
[“??”]
[“Exactly zero people called for it.”]
[“Suspect the streamer is just entertaining himself.”]
[“Did I enter the wrong stream? Is this really WEI God’s room?”]
[“You didn’t, sweetie—this is WEI God: Mutant Rat King Edition.“]
[“Why is everyone against it? I actually want to see a tutorial match! He hasn’t streamed in ages.”]
[“You killed twenty people solo in the All-Star match, and now you’re back to hiding? Afraid we’ll steal your skills?”]
Pretending not to see the comments, Ji Wei hummed a little tune while selecting the map and queueing up.
“Let’s start with Erangel today. Many people think Sanhok is the rat’s paradise, but I actually think Erangel fits that title better.”
The game began, and players spawned on the starting island.
“There are lots of defensible building types in Erangel’s rural areas. If you want to rank up by hiding, you should prioritize these spots.”
As he spoke, Ji Wei dropped markers across different regions on the map.
“Later, just pick a suitable one based on the flight path.”
The plane took off—this round’s path ran vertically from the Military Base to Zharki, a rather off-center route.
“Lots of people will definitely drop at Georgo and Pochinki, so we’ll avoid those and fly to the right side of the map.”
Having decided on his destination, Ji Wei zoomed in on the map and placed a bright yellow marker in full view of the audience.
“I’m telling you guys, this spot is really good!” His eyes gleamed with excitement as he glided through the air.
“Hardly anyone knows about it. Normally, I wouldn’t share it with others, but after today’s stream, I bet tons of people will start dropping here—so cherish it while you can.”
[“Hahaha, relax—no one’s fighting you for it, okay?”]
[“That spot’s so remote, it’ll never be in the safe zone. What’ll you do when the circle closes in?”]
[“Barely any houses there. Baby, if you even find one rifle, I’ll admit defeat.”]
“This place usually spawns a vehicle, and it’s not like I’m hiding till the end anyway. As long as I survive the early game, it’s fine.” Ji Wei glanced at the comments, trying to reason patiently:
“What rifle? You’re already playing a camper—why would you still want a good gun? Don’t be so greedy, okay?”
Halfway through the flight, Ji Wei suddenly remembered to rotate his view and check for nearby enemies.
As luck would have it, a dark figure appeared just ahead on the right—flying in the same direction, at the same altitude.
“What the—?!” Ji Wei exclaimed in alarm. “Someone actually dropped here?!”
[“Hardly anyone knows about it.”]
[“Normally, I wouldn’t share it with others.”]
Ji Wei tried to comfort himself, mumbling, “It’s fine, probably just a bot. Even though the guy’s got a dark-skinned character, I’m in a squad queue—no real player would jump somewhere this remote alone.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the black-skinned character in front began to plummet. Upon reaching a certain height, the player rotated his body 90 degrees, using his parachute to increase his descent speed — a full body length faster than the one behind him: the streamer himself.
Damn.
This was definitely not a bot.
Ji Wei’s internal alarm bells went off. Without hesitation, he rotated his camera and changed his flight direction.
“…Now, this is Lao Liu’s first lesson. You have to be flexible. If you see a real player dropping with you, don’t hesitate — just leave immediately.”
The chat was already exploding with laughter.
[“No way, does your face hurt?”]
[“Go home, kid, just go home.”]
[“The streamer looks like he’s about to fall apart.”]
[“Can someone bring back the guy who soloed four pros yesterday?”]
Ji Wei got too caught up reading the comments and was a second too late opening his parachute, landing across the street instead. He had no choice but to control his character and start running.
As he ran, the sound of gunfire rang out behind him.
If any of the pro players who were killed by Unique the day before yesterday saw this, they’d probably cry.
How could someone so good look this desperate to stay alive?
Ji Wei zigzagged to dodge bullets and finally reached a safe spot. The enemy, apparently unwilling to waste their freshly looted ammo, stopped shooting.
He turned toward the residential area with a heartbroken expression. “My happy home… gone, just like that.”
Spotting a car spawn across the street only made him feel worse. Such a perfect location, and he’d lost it.
He reopened the map but couldn’t find a decent spot nearby. Looking back at the residential area with visible reluctance, a thought flashed in his mind.
“Have you guys ever seen the movie Parasite?”
[“?”]
[“What are you planning to do?”]
The next second, his in-game character crouched behind a tree, quietly watching. When the enemy walked toward the residential area, Ji Wei sprinted forward and dove into the car across the street.
[“You dare to steal his car?!”]
[“It’s not stealing, right??”]
After getting in, Ji Wei pressed the switch view button and moved to the back seat.
The car windows were tinted black, and his character’s outfit was black too, blending him completely into the shadows. From the outside, no one could tell there was someone sitting inside.
“Oh my!” Ji Wei rubbed his hands together excitedly and said to the viewers, “That guy must think I’ve run away. Once he finishes looting and drives off, I’ll just sit here and eat and drink his food!”
[“Can this game really be played like this?”]
[“What if he changes cars halfway?”]
[“Wait, won’t he get discovered like this?”]
Turns out… no, he really wouldn’t.
After looting the houses, the black-skinned player got into the car — the very same car Ji Wei was hiding in — and drove off toward the next loot spot.
[“Damn, who needs eyesight anyway?”]
[“If you don’t need your eyes, you can donate them to someone who does.”]
[“Black brother: Why do I feel like there’s a ghost following me…?”]
[“He’s literally driving for you. So tragic!”]
The car arrived at the next housing area. The driver got out, while the streamer stayed crouched in the back seat.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind him.
Someone was coming! Ji Wei sat up straight, adrenaline rushing. His excitement at watching the chaos unfold reached its peak.
“The fight’s about to start! This is so exciting, I love it!”
[“The streamer’s gone completely insane.”]
[“Stop laughing, baby, I’m actually scared. What if he finds you? You don’t even have a gun!”]
[“Wait, is he going to steal the car?!”]
“He probably won’t notice me,” Ji Wei said lazily, still sitting in the car.
“Lesson two, Lao Liu: you need strong mental fortitude. The key is stability.”
[“Driver: One wrong move and I’m done for.”]
[“With that kind of mental fortitude, just join the PCL already. Remember Unique’s rule: stay calm!”]
On screen, the new enemy didn’t steal the car but instead headed straight for the houses.
Ji Wei commented, “He probably wants to clear the area first before taking the car. Bold strategy.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted in a fierce exchange. When the dust settled, the newcomer was dead.
“Our driver is amazing!” Ji Wei was completely immersed, watching the fight as if it were front-row entertainment.
“We’re closing in on the circle. This guy doesn’t seem to be leaving… Is he planning to camp in this housing area? That’s fine by me. We’ll just sit tight and wait.”
[“We’re still a few hundred meters from the zone! You don’t even have meds—are you seriously not panicking?”]
[“Hurry up and drive away!”]
“Come on, please! They were kind enough to give us a ride here—how can you just drive off now?”
Ji Wei lifted his hands off the keyboard, resting his chin in his palm as he chatted with the viewers.
“At this distance, we should still have enough time to reach the circle.”
However, five minutes later, the other player still showed no sign of moving.
As the blue light of the poison zone swept over, Ji Wei’s expression gradually turned serious.
He muttered, “Why isn’t he leaving yet? Does this guy have a ton of meds or something? If we don’t get out of this circle soon, the next one’s going to hit hard.”
Two minutes later, the poison had already covered their area, and a countdown appeared on the screen. If they didn’t reach the safe zone before time ran out, they’d die.
Just as Ji Wei was about to shamelessly take the car and drive off—
—the black-skinned player slowly walked over.
He got into the driver’s seat, still completely unaware that someone was sitting in the back.
The safe zone shrank again, adding a few hundred more meters to the distance.
[“I have a bad feeling you’re not gonna make it.”]
[“He must’ve just fallen asleep in the house—why are you driving now?”]
[“Brother, your energy bar is almost empty!”]
On-screen, Ji Wei’s character’s energy bar was already half depleted. They were still 500 meters from the safe zone, the car speeding at full throttle.
300 meters.
200 meters.
At just 100 meters from safety, the car suddenly slowed down. The driver switched to the passenger seat and started taking painkillers.
“Oh my god!” Ji Wei shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. “Why can’t you drive inside first and then take your meds? It’s literally a few meters away!”
[“Hahahahahahaha—just tell us what you’re gonna do!”]
[“You’re talking out loud on the mic, you’re gonna scare him to death!”]
Ji Wei’s character’s health bar was dropping rapidly, nearly empty—
Then, the car suddenly started moving again.
But the driver… was no longer the black player.
Ji Wei couldn’t think of any other solution, so he gritted his teeth, switched to the driver’s seat, and slammed the accelerator to get the car into the safe zone.
The comments started flooding in like crazy.
[“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”]
[“How could you do this! Evil Unico!”]
[“Passenger seat, half-medicated: Why is the car driving itself?!”]
[“This is scarier than turning on all mics! You’ve gone too far!”]
[“Please, someone ask how much psychological trauma the black player has endured.”]
[“Even Satan would bow down to you!”]
“What can I do?” Ji Wei blushed and muttered softly, “If I don’t drive in, I’ll die. I don’t want to lose points.”
On-screen, the black man in the passenger seat was so terrified by the car suddenly moving on its own that he accidentally pressed the exit button—falling to his death just outside the safe zone.
“Ah… this.”
Ji Wei looked at the loot box lying outside and said a bit awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to hit him. I thought we could make it together.”
[“Stop talking, okay? You’ve already scared him enough.”]
[“With no death replays or alternate perspectives, that poor guy will never know why his car started driving on its own that afternoon.”]
[“He probably saw someone in the driver’s seat at the last second and panicked, so he pressed the button.”]
[“Truly—a miracle.”]
Ji Wei drove all the way into the safe zone, looted a box on the ground, restored his health to full, then found a good spot to lie down and wait for the next unlucky soul.
“Oh, I do feel a little sorry for him,” he said, looking gloomy—but there wasn’t the slightest trace of guilt in his bright eyes.
[“Too late.”]
[“Don’t pretend.”]
[“What’s the difference between this and crocodile tears?”]
[“Black brother, life’s tough. I drove you all the way here, almost made it to the end, only to get scared to death by you.”]
[“I cried, did you?”]
“I didn’t cry.” Seeing the tone of the barrage, Ji Wei straightened up and said seriously,
“Lesson three from Lao Liu: never feel guilty about the players who fall by your hand, and never think there’s anything shameful about trickery.”
He raised his chin and puffed out his chest. “After all, in this game, surviving to the end is victory.”
“That’s right.”
A familiar voice came from behind him. Ji Wei turned around amid the barrage’s screams.
“You guys done already?”
“Yeah.” Yin Sijue reached out to ruffle his hair. “Duo queue?”
“Okay, okay—just let me finish this round first.”
The next moment, the viewers watched as the host—who had been hiding for over half an hour—stood up without hesitation and launched two grenades forward.
Flustered footsteps echoed from all directions. Ji Wei raised his rifle and fired a burst of shots, wiping out the last full squad in the final round and securing the Chicken Dinner.
[“Okay, okay, I’m a fan of Dual Personality too.”]
[“Are you that eager for your husband to show up, KDL?”]
[“Promise me you won’t hide with Sol this time, okay?”]
“No more hiding, no more hiding.” Ji Wei exited the game and invited Yin Sijue to join the team. “We’ve got a practice match tonight. Let’s drop at G Port to warm up. That’s all for today’s Lao Liu tutorial.”
[“Alright, now it’s a couple’s duo match.”]
[“Nice! Finally, we’ll see some real action—it was worth the wait.”]
[“Pretending to be reluctant to leave the tutorial game.”]
“What did you just teach?” Yin Sijue asked with interest.
“Um… nothing much. Something went wrong, and I didn’t get to cover all the key points I prepared,” Ji Wei said sheepishly. “I’ll save it for next time.”
“Then I’ll attend class next time,” Yin Sijue said lazily. “I want to sit in the front row.”
Ji Wei: “…Okay.”
[“What do you mean by front row? Of course you want the teacher sitting on your lap while teaching.”]
[“JueWei fans are living so peacefully happy…”]
Both players used high-level accounts for this match, playing as a two-man team in a four-player lobby. Most of the players they were matched with were top-tier, giving the viewers the thrill of a fierce, high-level battle.
At 4 p.m., Ji Wei exited the PUBG results page and waved goodbye to the viewers.
“I’m off to practice four-man squads with my teammates. That’s it for today’s stream. As for next time… I’m not sure when that’ll be.”
Seeing the comments start to wail, Ji Wei added, “Let’s try to do one more stream before Worlds. Bye, everyone!”
…
“Stream’s over?” Xu Shaoqiu came downstairs and glanced at Ji Wei’s laptop. “Alright, let’s talk about tonight’s practice match.”
Da Shu and Mi Li had just finished their own games and joined them.
“Starts at seven—three rounds total. The first two are on Erangel, the third on Miramar. Both are classic maps.” Xu Shaoqiu placed his laptop on the living room sofa. “At 6:50, the other team will send over the room number and password. I’ve already set up the VPN, so I’ll just log in early.”
Da Shu said, “Are we really playing on the Korean server? Why not compromise with the Singapore one or something? This feels like walking straight into a Hongmen Banquet.”
Yin Sijue leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment before saying, “Actually, if nothing unexpected happens, it probably will happen. They’re not so kind as to help us with training.”
“Yes.” Xu Shaoqiu nodded. “Solve and I discussed it this afternoon. The fact that they approached us first this time is probably because both the PCL champion and runner-up teams that qualified this season are new lineups. Each has two newly joined players. Kelly managed to dig up a few clips from the secondary league, but Unique is a complete blank slate. On one hand, they’re worried we might have some kind of secret weapon and want to test our strength. On the other hand, they just want to mess with us a little before the tournament.”
Mi Li said carelessly, “Whatever. If we lose because of lag, so be it. I’ve already had enough of those old match replays anyway. Might as well face them head-on.”
Yin Sijue turned to Ji Wei with a teasing smile. “What do you think, Secret Weapon? Feeling nervous?”
“…No,” Ji Wei said helplessly. “If they really want to test our strength, why choose a server that favors them? Even if they win, it’s not that convincing.”
“At the very least, it boosts their morale,” Xu Shaoqiu explained. “Haven’t you noticed that SOP’s players have pretty fragile mentalities? When they lose, they don’t even shake hands. None of the other major PKL clubs act like that.”
Xu Shaoqiu looked at Ji Wei with a fatherly expression. “Your mindset before a big tournament can really affect the outcome. Maybe they’re targeting you this time, so don’t let it get to you, okay?”
Before Ji Wei could respond, Da Shu cut in. “You don’t have to worry. His husband got knifed mid-match once, and he still stayed calm. Honestly, he’s got some natural talent for this.”
Ji Wei: “…He wasn’t my husband back then.”
“Ohhh—!”
Xu Shaoqiu’s voice suddenly joined in, as if he’d just had an epiphany. He finally realized he’d been misunderstanding something all along.
“So Solve is the husband!”
Even Yin Sijue looked stunned this time. He stared at their supposedly smart coach like he’d seen a ghost. “Who else would it be?”
Xu Shaoqiu: “…”
He couldn’t say it—doing so might destroy team harmony.
…
“Almost time, right?” After finishing another two hours of squad practice, Da Shu exited the results screen and checked the team’s stats. “Aside from that one cursed zone match, we basically won every round. My hands are on fire today—pretty sure I’m gonna carry the scrim.”
Mi Li scoffed. “You only got one MVP and you’re bragging already.”
Da Shu: “One MVP is still an MVP! You frag-hungry assaulters don’t get to talk!”
“Don’t start celebrating halfway through the match,” Yin Sijue said, moving his fingers as he logged out of the Asia server and switched to the Korean one. “It’s almost time. Turn on your VPNs and get ready to enter the room.”
At 6:50, Xu Shaoqiu sent over the password. The four of them joined that night’s scrim right on time.
Twelve teams from both divisions were already in place. Including the sparring partners provided by SOP, there were a total of eighty players in the entire practice match.
Before the game began, Xu Shaoqiu added a reminder: “Uh… don’t take it too seriously, okay? It’s just a scrim. Remember to keep your real tactics under wraps.”
“Relax,” Da Shu snapped his fingers. “We’ll just treat it like a Diamond-tier match!”
However, even Diamond matches have their own kind of pain.
Five minutes later, the four AVG players sat in silence as they stared at the map—an 800-meter trek to reach the safe zone.
The first match was on the island map. The flight path stretched horizontally from the military base to City S, miles away from AVG’s usual drop point, G Port. They had no choice but to land, find a car, and drive.
“Sigh,” Da Shu grumbled as he drove. “And it starts like this right off the bat.”
Mi Li muttered, “The center of the circle is still at SOP’s airport drop point… If we could draw our own zones in custom rooms, I’d swear they rigged this one.”
“Let’s move out in five minutes,” Yin Sijue said, frowning at the map. “We’ll head in early this time. The circle’s too far south—it won’t be easy to fight from here.”
Just as he finished speaking, the kill feed updated: the entire UGC squad had been wiped out.
The team fell silent for two seconds.
Da Shu sighed. “They must’ve collided mid-drop and lost the roll. But UGC always changes drop points at Worlds. They probably just wanted to try something new this time.”
Mi Li: “Yeah, well, they tried—and died.”
Ji Wei, who had searched all of G Port without finding a single good rifle, complained in frustration, “UGC’s supposed to be veteran players. How did they get wiped so fast? Is SOP really that strong?”
Yin Sijue thought for a moment. “It’s a bit strange, but anything can happen in a hot drop. Weren’t three of you wiped last time, too?”
Da Shu and Mi Li: “???”
Yin Sijue opened the map, recalling each team’s usual drop points. “We’ll push south. On the island map, Korean teams usually drop on the south side, and the PCL teams stick to the north. The first team we’ll likely encounter is KKC, then maybe NS.”
Da Shu groaned. “So it’s another internal fight? Great. After that, we still have to cross the bridge? Sounds hopeless already.”
Mi Li asked, “Can we drive across the water like Unique did last time?”
“No.” Before Yin Sijue could respond, Ji Wei immediately shot it down. “Last time, there was only one UGC team at the base. That won’t be the case this time. There’ll be several teams crossing the bridge before us, and if we take the river route, we’ll just get surrounded.”
“Alright, alright.” Da Shu started reloading and furiously clicked his left mouse button, the rapid “kak-kak” of a pro player filling the mic. Then he slid past Ji Wei’s character, punching and sprinting dramatically. “I’m ready!”
“…?”
A wave of realization hit Ji Wei like a mountain. She spoke with difficulty. “You… watched my livestream?”
Da Shu raised his voice in mock affection. “Yes, sweetheart. Lao Ma, your husband, and I all watched it together~”
Ji Wei: “…”
Yin Sijue, discarding the useless attachments from his inventory, said casually, “He said later he couldn’t believe even the worst players would fall for that.”
Then he stood up in-game and added, “Let’s move. Time to get inside the circle.”