Chapter 69 – Win No Matter What
That night, Ji Wei, flushed from the hot shower, lay on the bed fiddling with Yin Sijue’s phone.
When checking in, Xu Shaoqiu had given him an extra room card—one that belonged to his boyfriend—and had sternly instructed him to return it the next day and not keep any.
Ji Wei frowned as he took the card. So what if he didn’t have one? How could Yin Sijue possibly refuse him if he came knocking?
Of course, that being said, with the competition approaching, both of them knew their limits and wouldn’t do anything excessive.
Stolen tenderness is always the most cherished.
Bored while waiting for Yin Sijue to finish his shower, Ji Wei picked up the phone that had been left on the bedside table. After trying a few passwords, he easily unlocked it.
“Hehe…” Ji Wei rubbed his cheek against the pillow, his heart brimming with sweetness. He hadn’t expected Yin Sijue to be so old-fashioned—using their birthdays combined as the password.
After unlocking the phone, Ji Wei’s first move was to log into his secondary Weibo account, intending to catch up on all the food content he’d missed over the past two days.
Ever since Yin Sijue had publicly exposed his XP, their CP fans had gone wild, posting nothing but pictures and stories featuring “Wei the cat,” flooding the entire homepage with fluffy, furry creatures.
He scrolled through his “wife’s” profile, liking every post one by one. Then he spotted two of the most popular ones, each with over 5,000 shares:
[Absolutely Delicious] < When Sol got a custom-made cat-ear outfit | Women’s clothing | Small toys | Everyday sweet stories >
[Absolutely Delicious] < When Weiwei was reborn as Sol’s cat | Q-period kitten | Animal ears setting | High//H warning | No touching the ears or tail, etc. >< >
Ji Wei stared at the two titles for a long time, hesitating before finally biting his thumb and shakily clicking on the second one.
No one could resist those two words once they started reading.
He saved the image, flipped it over, and zoomed in. Biting his finger as he watched, he felt saliva soak his fingertips. He gritted his teeth, not daring to breathe.
The lurid content quickly consumed him—so much so that he didn’t even notice the sound of running water behind him stop.
When Yin Sijue emerged from the bathroom, towel in hand and drying his hair, he saw a mysterious lump wriggling under the blankets, occasionally letting out soft “whimpering” noises.
Puzzled, he approached. “Don’t get stuck under there—it’s hard to breathe—”
Bang!
The sudden sound startled Ji Wei, and he bolted upright, scrambling to cover himself with the quilt.
The phone slipped from his hand and rolled onto the floor.
It tumbled across the carpet several times before landing—by sheer bad luck—right at Yin Sijue’s feet.
The screen was facing up.
As the man bent down to pick up the phone from the floor, Ji Wei felt his soul drift away.
The screen was still on—no need to unlock it. The pictures in the album had all been pre-edited by Ji Wei, enlarged several times. Yin Sijue glanced at it and immediately understood what his boyfriend had been looking at.
He shifted his gaze to Ji Wei’s face. The boy’s skin was porcelain-white, and even his neck flushed red when he was shy. He was desperately trying to cover his lower body with the quilt.
“What are you afraid of?” Yin Sijue said softly, his voice slightly breathy—seductive, like a demon’s—as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
Ji Wei arched his hips back, trying to retreat without a word, but Yin Sijue caught his ankles and dragged him away from the bed.
“Shh, don’t be afraid. Let me see if you’re really sunny.”
…
The next morning, Xu Shaoqiu rushed to the door of Solve’s room and watched as Ji Wei carried his suitcase back to his own.
His eyes swept over Ji Wei like a scanner, confirming nothing was amiss before saying, “The captain and I will head to the venue to draw lots later. Afterward, there’ll be a live interview scheduled by the organizers. You’ll stay at the hotel and continue training.”
Ji Wei put his luggage away like a quail, not daring to look up at Xu Shaoqiu. Even though Yin Sijue hadn’t done anything last night—merely helping him “solve” the problem with his hands—Ji Wei still felt guilty under Xu Shaoqiu’s honest gaze.
Xu Shaoqiu didn’t notice Ji Wei’s awkwardness and turned to Yin Sijue. “I’ve given Lao Ma the key to the training room provided by the tournament. He’ll take you there. I’ll return your phone tonight. Let’s go, Sol.”
The two quickly got into the car and left the hotel. As Ji Wei sat down at his computer to begin training, he realized he hadn’t asked Xu Shaoqiu how he planned to resolve the Maoyu TV issue.
“He told you to prepare for the livestream,” Lao Ma said casually. “You guys practice first. He’ll call you when it starts.”
Da Shu frowned. “Livestream? Isn’t it just a drawing? What could he possibly draw?”
“We’ll have an interview after the draw,” Lao Ma explained. “It’s an annual special. We’ve never taken part before, and the whole world’s watching.”
Ji Wei nodded in understanding and looked at his teammates. “Let’s do three-person and four-person teams first?”
Da Shu checked the time. “Isn’t the livestream draw in twenty minutes? We’ll miss it if the match runs long. Let’s just do training camp first.”
When the livestream started, Lao Ma brought the tablet over for everyone to watch.
The group stage draw wasn’t particularly exciting. In a round-robin tournament, almost every team would face each other anyway. The coaches and captains were mostly going through the motions.
The host arranged the lots and presented them to the audience. AVG ended up in Group A8, meaning the group stage would last three days. AVG would only play on the first and third days, while Groups B and C faced off on the second.
“Is that even possible? Why do I feel like there are so many Southeast Asian teams in this group…” Da Shu said in disbelief as he scanned the list. “Didn’t they say there should be a balance of strength?”
Mi Li folded her arms, watching the livestream. The camera panned to Xu Shaoqiu’s face, making her choke with laughter.
“Actually, the Vietnamese team has won several championships,” she said. “They were lucky in their early years—constantly facing strong teams ahead of them, which helped them rack up ranking points. But things aren’t going so well now.”
Da Shu gloated, “Then it’d be nice to meet them in the group stage.”
Lao Ma reminded everyone, “The live interview’s about to start.”
The host held up the finalized group list in front of the camera for a moment before the screen flashed and switched directly to the pre-match interview room.
Yin Sijue had changed into a suit and, for once, put on some makeup. He looked like a celebrity in front of the camera.
“Holy crap… is the sun rising from the west?” Da Shu gasped in disbelief. “My brother never wears makeup for interviews!”
During the draw, the livestream had only a few comments congratulating the teams on their luck. But as soon as the interview began, the number of comments exploded—almost as quickly as Yin Sijue’s face appeared on screen.
[“If the title were covered, who could tell if this is a Korean drama or a game?”]
[“Thank God I had free time today—I got to watch the draw live!”]
[“Oh my god, Solve is so handsome.”]
[“Wait, was there an interview segment before? I don’t remember one. He’s never joined PCL before. Why suddenly look this handsome now? Is he trying to intimidate his opponents with his face?”]
[“He’s a good eater. Hey, Unique! He’s really good at eating!”]
As soon as the “Solve” show started, all the CP fans swarmed in. The comment section turned outrageously lewd, and Ji Wei could barely bring himself to keep watching.
The worst part was that all his teammates were sitting right next to him, forcing him to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. It was torture.
Da Shu noticed Ji Wei’s face flushing and whispered, “How about we turn off the comments? What do you think, Unique?”
“Let’s keep it on…” Ji Wei said through gritted teeth. “Some of the compliments are… pretty nice.”
The host, a Korean man with slicked-back hair, happened to be fluent in both Chinese and Korean, so no interpreter was needed. After a few opening remarks, the interview officially began.
Host: “This is probably Solve’s first pre-game interview at our PGC, right? Why did you decide to participate this year?”
Yin Sijue smiled faintly. “No particular reason. I just came because I had the time.”
The host hadn’t expected such a perfunctory response. After an awkward laugh, he quickly moved on to the next question.
“This year, AVG is entering Worlds with a brand-new lineup. What are your expectations?”
“I believe every team here wants to achieve the best possible result, and AVG is no exception.”
What a boring answer! What’s the point of watching this? The host smiled helplessly. Then, catching a suggestive look from the tournament organizers, he decided to steer the topic somewhere more interesting.
He smiled. “We did a bit of background research before the interview. I heard your team’s new player, Unique, has a rather special identity. Could you tell us more about him?”
Yin Sijue’s lips curved slightly. “What kind of special identity? Are you referring to his old gaming account… or something about me?”
Unexpectedly, the other party brought up the latest gossip on his own. The host’s eyes lit up. “Both! Can Solve tell us more?”
Yin Sijue lowered his eyelashes, as if in thought. After a moment, he smiled and looked directly into the camera.
“Unique is an excellent player. We used to be very compatible teammates. It’s a pity he missed the chance to go pro back then. But now he’s back with me—it’s my honor to fight alongside him again.”
This was the first time Yin Sijue had publicly acknowledged his past with Ji Wei. Viewers flooded in, and the already unstable livestream connection lagged under the sudden surge in traffic.
[“Help! Even though I already knew it was a childhood-sweetheart story, hearing him say it himself hits different!”]
[“Come back to me! What kind of sovereignty claim is this?”]
[“Bao Bao x Mao Mao forever—may they be happily together T_T”]
[“Who gets it? I’m already knee-deep in electronic music, but I can’t stop laughing!”]
Although the host couldn’t see the comments, he could tell from the viewer count that the broadcast’s popularity was skyrocketing. Encouraged, he pressed on.
“So, why didn’t Unique become a pro gamer back then?”
Yin Sijue shook his head, a faint shadow passing over his features. “That’s his private matter. I can’t disclose it. All I can say is—it wasn’t his original choice.”
The cryptic reply immediately ignited a heated discussion in the chat.
[“What do you mean? He did want to go pro back then?”]
[“?? Who ruined our young couple’s reunion?!”]
[“Let’s not talk about this anymore—it feels too heavy, like a dream being crushed.”]
[“How many years do pro players even have? They lost three years…”]
[“Solve seems kind of angry…”]
“Is that so…” The host noticed something off in his expression and quickly followed the script to change the topic.
“This year’s PGC is the first to be held in Korea. Do you have any travel plans you can share after the tournament?”
Yin Sijue tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not yet. We mostly get together for training.”
“Not necessarily with teammates!” the host said enthusiastically. “By the way, the organizers have thoughtfully arranged admission and accommodations for accompanying family members. If they’d like to explore, we’ll also provide a tour guide so they can experience the local customs and culture of Korea.”
Encouraged by the organizers, the host went on cheerfully, “With the families’ permission, we’ll also record a pre-match greeting video to be played after the trash talk segment. Isn’t that heartwarming?”
He gave Yin Sijue an encouraging look. “SOP and ROD from our home region have both registered their accompanying family members. I heard quite a few AVG members came this time too! Haha, don’t worry about the organizers’ expenses—”
“We don’t have any accompanying family members,” Yin Sijue interrupted calmly.
The host froze, his voice trembling slightly. “Huh?”
On screen, the composure Yin Sijue had shown at the beginning of the interview completely vanished, replaced by an air of awkwardness and quiet sadness.
He was silent for a long moment before finally saying, “Not all professional players have their families’ approval. Unique was living alone at fourteen—and that wasn’t something heartwarming for him. We have the encouragement of our teammates and the support of our fans. That’s enough.”
The host sat there stunned, realizing only too late that he’d made a serious mistake. He darted a glance at the nearby staff, but before he could recover the situation, the camera abruptly cut to a commercial.
The AVG members watching the livestream: “…”
Yin Sijue’s feigned embarrassment might have fooled the audience and the host, but it couldn’t fool his teammates—people who had lived with him for years.
Da Shu clicked his tongue twice, then turned to Ji Wei. “Is his acting always this good?”
Ji Wei was momentarily speechless and redirected the question to Lao Ma. “What’s he doing?”
Lao Ma lowered his head and sipped his tea. “You’ll know when you look at the comments.”
The on-site director, realizing the interview had gone off track, hurriedly interrupted the broadcast, cutting to some irrelevant game footage.
But Yin Sijue’s words had already struck a chord—especially among the PCL audience. It was the first time they’d seen Solve caught off guard by an interview question, and the reaction was explosive.
[“What’s that host even doing? What does SOP having family members have to do with us?”]
[“PCL has never had a tradition of recording family videos. Why ask such a stupid question?”]
[“Wait—Solve said Unique started living alone at fourteen. Wasn’t that three years ago?”]
[“Three years ago was when he missed AVG’s youth training. Those can’t be related, right? Oh my god, did he run away from home—or did something happen to his family?”]
[“Stop guessing, okay? Either possibility sounds awful. From now on, “family members” is an AV landmine. Don’t even bring it up.”]
[“+1 Don’t disrupt the players’ mindsets. Everyone, focus on the competition. From now on, if anyone brings up the topic of family, just block it.”]
Ji Wei stared blankly at the comments. Everyone was talking at once, but no one mentioned the players’ families again.
Seeing the direction the comments were taking, Lao Ma explained with satisfaction, “This is a strategy we worked out last night. We noticed that this year’s pre-tournament interview script is the same across the board. Solve will disclose your situation in advance during the interview, then play up your hardships just enough. That way, everyone feels reassured and stops prying into your and your parents’ matters.
“Even if Maoyu eventually tries to expose the truth, it’ll only be secondhand information, with no real basis for authenticity. The fans will step in to explain things on their own, and public opinion will lean toward us.”
He chuckled confidently, looked at Ji Wei, and continued, “With Worlds just around the corner, fans are still fairly tolerant of the players. Even if they want to criticize someone, they’ll wait until after the tournament.
“By then, their information will already be useless. Brother Qiu has explained everything to Aurora’s management. They’ll fast-track the process and acquire Maoyu no later than the day of the PGC Finals. By then, CEOs Zhou and Wang will be ready to withdraw.”
“Wow…” Da Shu couldn’t help but applaud. “So this is what business warfare looks like? We actually get to witness this kind of bloody battle!”
“?” Lao Ma gave him a look as if he were an idiot. “What kind of business war is this? We’re just getting rid of a bug. Focus on training and leave the rest to us.”
“Okay, okay, okay. It’s settled then.” Da Shu clapped his hands theatrically. “Let’s queue for a three-player match, Unique. Hey—why’s my computer freezing for no reason? Do you think…”
Ji Wei didn’t catch what Da Shu said next. He quickly blinked away the tears that had welled up in his eyes, clicked [Accept Invitation], and joined the team.
He took a deep breath, remembering how he’d imagined countless worst-case scenarios after learning about his parents’ situation from Ji Lin—but none of them had come true.
Thankfully, everything was resolved, and the outcome was smoother than he’d ever dared hope.
Now, he was back doing what he loved most—playing the game he knew so well, surrounded by teammates who had his back.
Ji Wei had only one thought: to win this match, no matter what, and return triumphant.