Chapter 85 – Nice to Meet You, My Name Is Yin Sijue
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
“Who is it?”
Xu Shaoqiu opened the base’s main gate and found a small, dirt-smudged boy standing at the door.
It was the height of summer, the afternoon heat unbearable. The sunlight hit the boy and made his skin look almost translucent.
That only made the dirt on his face stand out even more. His damp hair clung to the corners of his eyes, and his pants and sleeves were stained dark. Only his eyes remained — round and bright — his lips pressed tight and red as he looked at Xu Shaoqiu a little nervously.
Xu Shaoqiu: What, here to beg for money?
“And who might you be?”
The boy gestured awkwardly for a while before realizing he didn’t know any sign language. With no other choice, he finally spoke up.
“My name’s Ji Wei. I’m here for the tryout.”
His voice sounded like an old phone line during a renovation next door — thin, crackly, and full of teenage awkwardness — shocking for someone like Xu Shaoqiu, who was nearly thirty.
“Uh, you…” He trailed off, thinking hard before remembering that he’d told security earlier to bring the new trainee to the gate.
But how did they end up bringing someone this young?!
Wait—Ji Wei…
“You’re not that Wei, are you? The one who’s first on the Asia server? The one who never uses mic?”
Ji Wei nodded vigorously, his hair swaying like an afterimage.
Xu Shaoqiu was stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re what, fifteen? Still in your voice-cracking phase?”
Ji Wei clamped his mouth shut, staring at him in silence — a mix of grievance and displeasure in his eyes that somehow made Xu Shaoqiu feel guilty.
“Ahem.” Xu Shaoqiu pulled him inside. “Forget it. You’re here anyway. It’s hot outside — come in first.”
“I’m Xu, from AVG — the one who contacted you. I’m in charge of your tryout. The starting players aren’t living with us, but after the tryout, I can take you over to get their autographs.”
Ji Wei gave a small, polite response. He didn’t seem particularly interested in autographs.
Xu Shaoqiu took a few steps forward, then turned back in confusion.
“But why did you come alone? Where are your parents?”
Most of the youth trainees this season had come with their parents — they were all minors, after all. Some parents even toured the base for quite a while, repeatedly reminding the staff to take good care of their kids before they finally left.
But this one—so young, and coming all by himself—it was strange, no matter how you looked at it.
The boy didn’t answer. He simply lowered his head and rubbed his hands together nervously. There was a dark smudge on his palm.
“Um… excuse me, where’s the restroom? I’d like to wash my hands.”
“Over there.” Xu Shaoqiu pointed in a direction. “What happened to you?”
“I fell… On the train.”
Ji Wei pressed his lips together awkwardly, offering no further explanation. He darted off toward the restroom, almost like he was running away—afraid someone might see him in such a messy state.
Standing in the empty living room, Xu Shaoqiu shrugged. He didn’t think much of it and turned toward the training room.
Pushing open the glass door, he scanned the room. The person he was looking for wasn’t there.
Puzzled, he glanced at the client interface — the in-game ID [SJUE] was online, the game was running, yet the person himself was nowhere to be seen.
“What the heck,” Xu muttered. “Didn’t he say to call him the moment WEI arrived? Where’d he run off to now?”
All the doors in the base looked the same. Ji Wei pushed open several before finally finding the restroom.
Just as he was about to enter, he heard someone coming out. Before he could react, he bumped straight into a tall, long-legged boy.
Ji Wei froze, his eyes widening.
It was thirty-six degrees outside — stand in the sun for two seconds and you’d feel roasted. Yet the boy before him carried a cool, crisp air, like a breath of lemon-mint ice on a scorching summer afternoon.
A buzzing filled Ji Wei’s head—
He recognized him.
This was the same person whose photo he had memorized back in the internet café.
Weren’t photos supposed to beautify people?
Ji Wei’s heart thudded violently — how come his online friend looked even better in person than in the photo?
Also… was it even reasonable for someone to be this tall?
On the other side, Yin Sijue was also studying Ji Wei.
The boy looked travel-worn, his face pale to the point of translucence. For someone so good-looking, he was covered in dirt, the corners of his eyes faintly red — probably from embarrassment.
Most of the trainees had already arrived, and there was no other boy this young in the entire base.
There was only one possibility—
“You’re WEI?”
Ji Wei froze on the spot, startled, and blurted out, “How did you know?”
Hearing his voice, Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“So you don’t turn your mic on because your voice is changing?”
Ji Wei: …
Only then did it hit him — he must look awful right now, his voice sounded terrible, and this was the very first time he was meeting the person he’d most wanted to see.
It’s over. Total disaster.
The thought made him wilt like a frostbitten eggplant. With a dark cloud practically hanging over his head, he mumbled a quiet nod to You Jue, then slipped past him into the restroom.
When the sound of running water finally stopped, You Jue was still standing by the door.
He lowered his gaze, eyeing the tear in Ji Wei’s track pants.
“How’d that happen?”
Ji Wei blinked and repeated, “I fell. On the train. Too many people.”
“Are you hurt?”
Ji Wei looked up obediently. “My knee’s bruised. That’s all.”
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Ji Wei hesitated. “…Go where?”
Yin Sijue pointed at the backpack on Ji Wei’s back.
“You haven’t put your luggage down yet.”
…
Rooms hadn’t been assigned yet, so everyone’s luggage was piled up in the living room. Ji Wei was one of the few with very little to bring.
Actually, he didn’t have any luggage at all — just a backpack stuffed with summer homework.
He’d run away from home, lying that he was going to a summer camp.
And what was worse—
“Where’s your ID? You’ll need it to sign the contract,” Xu Shaoqiu said, reaching out his hand.
“I–It’s gone.” Ji Wei tugged awkwardly at the torn strap of his backpack. “My wallet got stolen. QvQ°”
Xu Shaoqiu froze for two seconds. “You mean, on the train?”
“Yeah. QvQ”
“What kind of cursed luck is that…” Xu Shaoqiu muttered. “Do you at least have your phone? A photo of your ID would work too.”
He paused, then frowned. “Wait, don’t tell me your phone got stolen too?”
Ji Wei shook his head. “It didn’t.”
“Oh, that’s good then.”
“I don’t have a phone,” Ji Wei said calmly.
Xu Shaoqiu: “?”
Everyone else in the base was sixteen or seventeen, all sent here by parents who’d made sure they had phones. This was the first trainee who didn’t even own one.
Still, family situations differed, and Xu Shaoqiu didn’t press further.
“Alright… then you don’t need to hand anything in for now,” he said, nodding. “Dare I ask, what do you still have in that bag?”
Ji Wei unzipped it, revealing a bright orange workbook — Happy Summer Vacation.
Everyone: “…”
“This guy here,” said a slightly chubby boy standing across from him, “you really love studying, huh?”
“Alright, enough talking.” Xu Shaoqiu, sensing Ji Wei’s special circumstances, quickly changed the subject. “This is Cheng Su — you can call him Da Shu. The other one’s Milly. And the last one, you already know —Yin Sijue.”
“Your rooms are upstairs. Two people per room, and you can pair up however you like. I’m not interfering.”
“You can go put your luggage away now.”
During the tryout period, all meals and lodging would be at the base. That meant living with a roommate for nearly two weeks — so picking someone you got along with was very important.
Da Shu glanced around and immediately reached out to grab Ji Wei’s hand. “Hey, brother, how about we—”
“He’s with me.”
Before Ji Wei could react, Yin Sijue had already picked up his backpack and said coolly, “Come on.”
Ji Wei froze for a second, then gave Dashu an apologetic smile before following Yin Sijue upstairs.
“Ah…” Da Shu wasn’t discouraged. He turned to Milly with a grin. “Then we’re rooming together!”
Milly gave him a flat look. “No snoring at night.”
…
The room was spacious, with two beds and a private bathroom. Yin Sijue left the bed by the window for Ji Wei.
“Other than your homework, what else do you have in that bag?”
Ji Wei awkwardly rummaged through it. “A box of soy milk.”
Yin Sijue: “…”
“No change of clothes? No toiletries?”
Ji Wei nodded miserably.
After a two-second pause, he lowered his head and admitted softly, “I ran away from home. I didn’t bring anything.”
He stared down at his toes for a while, only then realizing how embarrassing that sounded.
Running away from home…
Will he think I’m a bad kid?
Click—
The sound of a suitcase opening.
Yin Sijue pulled out a set of pajamas and a tracksuit from his luggage.
“They’re brand new, never worn. You can wear mine for now. And here—” he handed over a phone. “This is my backup phone. It’s an older model, but you can use it for the time being.”
“As for toiletries, we’ll ask the staff later. If they don’t have any, we’ll go out and buy some.”
Ji Wei took the clothes that were a size too big for him and clutched the phone in his hands, lowering his head as he murmured a quiet “thank you.”
Yin Sijue’s gaze lingered for a moment on the dirt-stained bruise on Ji Wei’s knee. Then he smiled lightly.
“Do you want to take a shower? I’ve got disposable towels and underwear.”
It was the first time anyone had ever taken care of Ji Wei like this. His ears went red, and he hurriedly grabbed the things before dashing into the bathroom.
He’s not even that much older than me… so how is he so mature?
…
“Oh, Mom.”
Once he heard the sound of running water in the bathroom, Yin Sijue called his mother.
“Don’t use my backup phone for delivery verification anymore. I lent it to my roommate.”
His mother was sketching on her drawing tablet when she heard that. “Your roommate? The friend you’ve been wanting to meet? How is he?”
Yin Sijue glanced at the lonely little backpack sitting on the floor and said mildly, “A bit different from what I imagined.”
His mother sounded disapproving. “Are you disappointed? You shouldn’t judge someone by their appearance—”
“He’s really good-looking,” Yin Sijue interrupted.
He recalled the small, grimy Ji Wei with those wide, pitiful eyes — that kind of beauty couldn’t be hidden, no matter how dirty he was.
“Even better-looking than I imagined.”
Ji Wei ended up taking a half-hour shower.
When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, the dirt and marks from his fall had been scrubbed clean, leaving only skin so pale it was almost translucent — and faint bruises scattered along his hands and arms like tiny purple shadows.
The contrast was too sharp. At first glance, he still looked pitiful.
“Do you want me to ask the staff for some ointment?” Yin Sijue set the toiletries he’d borrowed from the front desk on the desk in the room. “Training starts tomorrow. You’ll need to use your hands a lot.”
“I’m fine.” Ji Wei shook his head. “I’m always like this the first day. The bruises will fade by tomorrow.”
As the sun shifted west, the slats of light crept silently across the floor until they reached Ji Wei’s bare ankle.
The golden mark of sunlight against his pale skin looked almost too vivid in the cool air.
The air stilled for two seconds. Then Yin Sijue spoke.
“What’s your real name?”
Only then did Ji Wei realize he’d never introduced himself properly. He straightened up instinctively, almost like a soldier reporting.
“Sorry! My name’s Ji Wei — I forgot to say that earlier!”
“It’s fine.” The corners of Yin Sijue’s clear eyes curved slightly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Yin Sijue.”
Nice to meet you?
Half an hour later, Ji Wei was sitting in the base’s cafeteria, staring absently at the big bowl of seafood fried rice the kitchen auntie had served.
It really was their first meeting.
No matter how inseparable they’d been in the game, this was the moment they’d truly started to get to know each other.
On the gaming forums, people often posted gossip about online friends meeting in real life — and most of those meetings didn’t end well. Afterward, they’d drift apart, further and further.
It wasn’t strange, really. The way people interacted online and offline was bound to be different.
A soft sound came from his left.
Yin Sijue placed something beside Ji Wei’s right hand — the box of soy milk that had been in his backpack.
“Stop spacing out. The rice is a bit dry — drink it with this.”
“Oh, I almost forgot about it!” Ji Wei poked in the straw and took a big sip. “How did you know I wanted it right now?”
“I didn’t.” Yin Sijue watched him finish the drink, then reached into his pocket and pulled out another box.
“If you don’t want it, then I won’t give you this one,” Yin Sijue said casually.
Ji Wei blinked, staring at the two identical bottles of soy milk in front of him. His heart suddenly softened.
When did he buy those?
Did he bring one just for me?
The person in that ID photo, and even the SJUE he’d known in-game, had never seemed like the type to be warm or thoughtful.
But everything since they’d met had quietly overturned that impression.
Ji Wei had never been taken care of like this before.
Even the soy milk had the straw already poked in for him. Ji Wei took it, lowered his head, and sipped. The restlessness that had been floating in his chest slowly began to settle.
It had taken him twenty hours by train to escape from Taipei and get here. The journey was rough. He hadn’t slept at all that night, constantly worried that someone might catch him halfway — or that he’d fail the tryout and all his effort would be wasted, forcing him back into that suffocating cage he’d fled from.
Fortunately, he’d made it here safely. And the unease in his heart had been quietly soothed by Yin Sijue’s presence.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt…” Da Shu, sitting diagonally across, raised his hand hesitantly. “Are you two the SJUE and WEI from the Asia server?”
“I’m not trying to dox you or anything! Brother Xu just told me earlier.”
There was nothing to hide, so Yin Sijue nodded. “Yeah.”
Da Shu gave Ji Wei a strange look. “Didn’t think the top player on the Asia leaderboard would be this young. Wait, was the reason you didn’t use mic before because your voice sounded terrible?”
That one sentence left Ji Wei completely speechless for the rest of the day.
He didn’t say another word — not until training started the next afternoon.
“I was wrong, I was wrong!” Da Shu wailed as he watched SJUE’s character on-screen clear an entire compound in seconds, not even leaving him a single grenade.
“I didn’t know WEI was in the middle of voice change — I’m sorry, I’ll kneel if I have to!”
“Hey, wait, can you spare some 7.62 ammo, Jue?”
Yin Sijue: “If your voice sounds nice, you can loot it yourself.”
The tryout period passed quickly.
All four of them were kept by AVG and officially became members of the second team.
Old players retired, new ones took the stage — the eternal cycle of esports.
A year later, the AVG second team officially took over, becoming the new starting lineup for the veteran organization.
“You have no idea how hard it was waiting for you to turn sixteen,” Xu Shaoqiu sighed as he handed Ji Wei the player contract. “If the league hadn’t changed the rules that year, you could’ve debuted long ago. They made it so you have to be at least sixteen to register.”
“Register? Don’t we just use our existing IDs?” Da Shu asked carelessly.
Xu Shaoqiu gathered the papers back up. “Yeah, you use your current IDs — but the players still have to be officially registered with the league.”
Ji Wei paused for a moment. “Can we change our IDs?”
His old name was too similar to his real one. He was worried his parents might find him.
“That’s fine,” Xu said. “Your account’s basically a smurf anyway.”
Ji Wei was about to say let me think, when out of nowhere, a single English word surfaced in his mind. He said it before he could stop himself.
“Let’s go with… Unique.”
For a moment, Ji Wei felt a strange sense of déjà vu at the sound of it — as if he’d been called by that name before.
Or maybe, he was simply meant to be called that.
But no — he’d always been WEI.
Xu Shaoqiu didn’t object. “Alright, get it registered by tomorrow.”
“I’m changing mine too,” Yin Sijue said quietly from the side.
Xu Shaoqiu: “?”
“What for? You’ve got so many skins on that account.”
Ji Wei looked up in surprise, heart tightening a little as he bit his lower lip. He couldn’t quite tell what Yin Sijue meant.
Expressionless, Yin Sijue replied matter-of-factly, “It’s boring now. Can’t I change it?”
Xu Shaoqiu: “…”
“Do whatever you want. Once you’ve changed your IDs, report them to me, you lunatics.”
He took a few steps, then turned back to look at Ji Wei.
“Also — I contacted your guardian. He said you should give him a call.”
Ji Wei’s hand, resting by his side, stiffened for a moment. “O… okay.”
When no one was paying attention, Ji Wei slipped back to his room and called his so-called guardian — his distant cousin, Ji Lin.
The call connected quickly. “Hello, who’s this?”
“It’s me, Ji Wei.”
Ji Lin exploded immediately. “You little brat!!! Do you have any idea how much you scared me? How could you put my name down as your guardian without even giving me a heads-up first?!”
Ji Wei mumbled softly, “I thought… he wouldn’t actually call.”
“Unbelievable…” Ji Lin sighed heavily. “How did you even end up in Haishi without telling anyone? When I got that call yesterday, I thought it was a scam. Then my mom checked around and found out you really did run off.”
Ji Wei tensed up instantly. “Did you tell my parents where I am?”
Ji Lin gave a cold snort. “Do I look that stupid? Of course not. But I did ask around a bit — apparently, they were only panicked at first. After that, they didn’t do much… didn’t even try to look for you.”
“I see. Got it.”
After hanging up, Ji Wei blinked slowly, uncertain whether he should feel disappointed or relieved.
The sound of a door opening cut through his thoughts. He turned to see Yin Sijue standing in the doorway.
The boy’s tall, slender figure blocked the light behind him, making it hard to read his expression.
For some reason, Ji Wei suddenly felt nervous.
“You were on the phone?” Yin Sijue asked.
“Mm. Why?”
“Nothing,” Yin Sijue said lightly, his gaze flickering almost imperceptibly toward Ji Wei’s phone. “Coach said you need to take another ID photo to make up for the missing one.”
“Okay, I’ll go right now.” Ji Wei slipped the phone into his pocket. “Did you already finish signing your contract?”
“Yeah.” Yin Sijue asked casually, “Who were you on the phone with just now?”
“My brother,” Ji Wei replied obediently.
“Oh.”
…
The ID photo shoot was simple. Xu Shaoqiu found a blank white wall and snapped a picture of Ji Wei using a tablet.
“Nice, that’s perfect. You’ve got one of those faces that look good no matter how the picture’s taken.” He saved the file with a satisfied hum. “I’ll print it out with the rest later.”
While tidying up the documents, Ji Wei’s gaze fell on a stack of familiar-looking training resumes on the table.
Inside the sheet was a photo of Yin Sijue — the boy’s upright, refined features so striking that even seeing it a second time, Ji Wei couldn’t look away.
Before he knew it, he found himself asking, “These are our trial resumes from last year, right? Do we still need them for anything?”
Xu Shaoqiu raised an eyebrow. “Of course not. You’re all officially signed now. I’m just keeping them on file with the contracts.”
With that, he gathered up the papers and turned to leave.
“Wait!”
Ji Wei hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers. “Could you… maybe let me keep that one?”
Xu Shaoqiu smiled faintly. “You do know we have an archive room at the base, right?”
Ji Wei immediately felt stupid for asking. He pressed his lips together. “Forget it, just pretend I didn’t say that.”
It was just a photo, after all.
Still, he sometimes caught himself having strange thoughts — like that time at the internet café, when he wanted to save that ID picture. Or now, when part of him even wanted to sneak into the archives and steal Yin Sijue’s photo.
It sounded a little scary — after all, the person in question was sleeping right beside him at night, only a single bed away. And yet, here he was, getting hung up over a photograph.
Ji Wei sighed like a little adult and turned his head toward Yin Sijue’s back, who was quietly playing a game.
They were clearly good friends, yet at certain moments, he couldn’t help but feel there was an invisible distance between them…
…
Two weeks later.
Inside the AVG training room, their newly promoted coach, Lao Ma — a recently retired player — was leading the team through another review of last week’s scrim footage.
“Unique and Solve’s teamwork is fine,” Lao Ma said, pointing at the screen. “You two have great chemistry, but you’re still a bit out of sync with the rest of the team.”
He paused the video and gestured. “Look here — Unique clearly has no idea what Da Shu’s doing. One of you’s throwing smoke into the house, the other’s tossing grenades — what are you doing, showing off your utilities?”
“My personal advice: spend more time queueing with your other teammates. Unique and Solve, don’t stick together all the time. You’re not a couple.”
The atmosphere in the room froze for a split second.
Ji Wei’s heart gave a sudden jolt, and his fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of the desk.
It was the first time he’d ever heard the word couple used in reference to himself.
Not that he hadn’t seen people date before — there were plenty of couples in his class, even some from neighboring grades. For a while, their school had screened documentaries every Friday night on the field, and he’d often hear teasing whispers and soft laughter behind him.
From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Yin Sijue’. The other boy’s expression didn’t change; he just watched the replay with calm focus.
Ji Wei turned his gaze back to the screen, a strange heaviness sinking in his chest. Pressing his lips together, he asked, “Why would you say that?”
Da Shu, sitting across from them, looked genuinely confused. “But they’re both guys — how could they be a couple?”
Lao Ma gave him a look of disdain. “What kind of outdated thinking is that? Why can’t two guys be a couple?”
“Oh, right—” he added with a smirk. “Since you’re all going to Worlds soon, I might as well tell you a bit of gossip.”
Everyone perked up their ears.
Lao Ma laughed gossipingly. “Last year’s runner-up team, SNS — their Assaulter and Gunner officially announced they’re in a relationship a few days ago.”