Chapter 86 – If I Really Ran Away
The training room once again fell into a strange silence — even the sound of breathing was clearly audible. A few players wore different expressions, their minds seemingly lost in thought.
Lao Ma was bewildered. “Why do you all look so shocked? Wait a minute…”
He suddenly realized that after spending so much time with those old veterans, he’d forgotten that the kids in front of him were still just a bunch of youngsters — the oldest being Solve, who was only nineteen.
As for the others, especially Unique, they probably hadn’t even seen much of romance between men and women, let alone between two guys.
“Haha!” Lao Ma laughed awkwardly. “Just think of it as some gossip, that’s all…”
Mi Li finally recovered from her shock and asked, “Those two Brits? Aren’t they both guys?”
Lao Ma braced himself and explained, “Yeah, they are. The two of them apparently knew each other before going pro — childhood friends, you could say. They already had a bond, you know? Not every pair of guys will end up together, don’t get the wrong idea…”
“The main point,” he continued quickly, “is that SNS is a world-renowned powerhouse. I suggest you all take some time to watch their match replays — the teamwork between those two players is really worth learning from.”
After dropping that bomb, Lao Ma left, leaving the four remaining team members staring at each other in the training room.
From the beginning, Ji Wei had been in a daze. A sensitive string in his heart had been plucked, and his mind wouldn’t stop wandering.
They knew each other before going pro — does that mean they already had feelings for each other?
Two boys… can they be called childhood friends?
Do all childhood friends eventually become lovers?
Before he could think any further, a cool, calm voice pulled him back to reality.
“Get back to training.” With a glance that brushed over Ji Wei so naturally it almost went unnoticed, he returned to his seat and opened the game. “Our first world championship match is coming up soon. Focus and practice well.”
By the time training ended and they returned to their rooms, it was already two in the morning.
Technically, the starting lineup should have been staying in the first team’s base, each with their own single rooms. But since AVG hadn’t yet officially moved the new second-team members in, everyone was too lazy to pack up and relocate. For now, they were sharing double rooms.
Having two people per room did have its advantages — it helped build camaraderie among teammates. Living together day and night, the new members of AVG were gradually becoming more in sync with one another.
Of course, there were downsides too—
“Recently, reporters captured SNS’s assaulter Shield and marksman Sword sharing a sweet kiss on the streets of London. The two had previously announced their relationship on social media, becoming PUBG’s…”
When Yin Sijue stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing he saw was Ji Wei flusteredly fumbling with his phone’s volume buttons.
In his panic, Ji Wei couldn’t tell which button was which and ended up turning the volume all the way up. The cold, mechanical voice of the gossip channel’s AI filled the room:
“The two met as teenagers, grew close, fell in love, and pursued the same professional path. Now that they’ve finally achieved their happily-ever-after, they truly are a couple made in heaven!”
Ji Wei: …
Yin Sijue’s hand paused for two seconds as he wiped his hair, then—somewhat unnaturally—he picked up the hair dryer and said quietly, “Don’t use your phone before bed.”
Ji Wei lay on his side, hugging a pillow as he watched Yin Sijue’s back.
Lately, Yin Sijue had shot up again in height. With his steady workout routine, his figure was no longer just slender—it now carried faint traces of muscle. It wasn’t obvious when he wore his team uniform, but in fitted sleepwear, his silhouette revealed those sculpted lines.
Only Ji Wei could see them…
He hid his gradually heating face against the pillow, his sharp nose brushing into the fabric as he mumbled softly,
“To meet, to understand, and to fall in love… what kind of process is that?”
“Can boys fall in love with each other too?”
With a sharp click, Yin Sijue turned off the hair dryer.
The noise of the dryer was loud—normally, it would have drowned out any sound from ten meters away. Ji Wei hadn’t even spoken that loudly, yet Yin Sijue still heard him.
Maybe he had been paying attention the whole time.
He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing the soft, white bundle in front of him. His eyes flickered slightly; the emotions he’d been suppressing all day began to surge again.
Yin Sijue said with effort, “These things… are too early for you. You don’t need to know about them.”
“Why not?” Ji Wei sat up, his slightly curled bangs swaying before falling again. He looked a little upset.
“You’re not that much older than me anyway. Is three years really that big a deal?”
“Even if it’s three days, I’m still older than you.”
Ji Wei: “……”
He puffed up his cheeks, threw himself onto the bed in frustration, and turned his back to Yin Sijue, scooting determinedly to the far side. “Fine! Don’t tell me then!”
As he moved, he muttered silently to himself, “I’ll just look it up on my own…”
Yin Sijue glanced at him wriggling like a caterpillar and couldn’t help the faint curve at the corner of his eyes.
It was his first time as a professional player—and as team captain, no less. Yin Sijue trained long hours every day. Especially as the in-game leader, he had to memorize every detail of the map, keep track of kill feeds, remaining teams, and remember each opponent’s playstyle.
Day after day of such intense focus left his brain feeling completely numb at times, too exhausted to think.
But every night, when he returned to the room and saw Ji Wei, something in him softened. The weariness that clung to his body seemed to fade away—though he couldn’t really explain why.
He only knew one thing: if he could win the championship together with this person, all the pain and exhaustion would be worth it.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Yin Sijue said, turning off the main light and leaving only the small night lamp by Ji Wei’s bed.
“Good night.”
Nearly five minutes passed before a muffled, slightly sulky voice came from under the blanket—like someone pretending to be angry but unable to resist replying.
“Good night!”
However, the one who said “good night” wasn’t necessarily asleep.
Ji Wei still remembered how Yin Sijue refused to explain things to him. He opened a few browser tabs and, after wading through a sea of British women’s gossip sites, finally found the right page.
He bit his thumb nervously, set his phone to silent mode, and stayed buried under the covers for a very, very long time.
The next morning, Ji Wei didn’t wake up early. Sunlight streamed across the empty bed beside him—Yin Sijue had already gone to the gym.
He went to wash up, carrying his clean clothes in his arms. Standing beside the bed afterward, he froze for a long while, like an old weathered tree.
Ji Wei frowned, on the verge of tears. The sunlight was so bright it turned his face a flushed red—and the faint, ambiguous traces left on the bed were impossible to ignore.
From that day on, he could no longer look his best friend straight in the eye.
Half an hour later, after finishing his workout, Yin Sijue pushed open the door to their room—only to find Ji Wei’s bed completely empty.
Not the usual kind of “empty” that comes after someone gets up in the morning, but literally empty—blankets, pillows, and sheets all gone. Even the clothes that had been hanging on the rack had vanished. It looked as if his roommate had moved out entirely.
A chill sank into Yin Sijue’s chest, and a flood of bad thoughts hit him all at once.
Standing in the shadow behind the door, his brows furrowed tightly as fragments of last night replayed in his mind: their not-quite-argument, the unexpected news broadcast, and those increasingly bold questions that had crossed so many lines.
Ji Wei… had a kind of heartbreaking innocence.
Yin Sijue clenched his jaw. If he really ran away because he was upset…
The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he gripped the doorknob. Forcing down the dark possibilities rising in his mind, he shoved the door open hard—
The bathroom light was on.
He couldn’t quite describe what he felt at that moment—it was like someone teetering on the edge of a cliff suddenly finding solid ground again. The rush of blood in his veins gradually calmed.
The frosted glass door of the bathroom was shut tight. From inside came the faint sounds of fabric being scrubbed. Whoever was doing it didn’t seem very experienced, nor very strong—each movement was accompanied by small, breathy hums of effort.
The noises weren’t even that quiet; normally, Yin Sijue would’ve heard them right away. But his mind had been clouded by panic, and for a moment he hadn’t realized what was actually happening—Ji Wei was probably washing the bed sheets.
Still… why was he washing the bed sheets all of a sudden?
Yong Jue walked up to the bathroom door and knocked gently.
Srrr—
A sharp scraping sound echoed from inside, like plastic dragging against tile, followed by a dull thud. A boy’s breath hitched sharply, turning into a broken gasp.
Without hesitation, Yin Sijue pushed the door open.
Ji Wei was sitting on the floor, rubbing his sore backside, eyes rimmed red and lips turned down in a pitiful pout. A bit of white foam clung to his cheek. In front of him was a large plastic basin filled with water—and the bed sheets soaking inside.
On the sink sat another small basin, inside of which floated a pair of pure white underwear, covered in a thin layer of suds.
Yin Sijue’s gaze darkened slightly, though his tone was unusually gentle when he spoke.
“Does it itch?”
He stepped forward, taking hold of Ji Wei’s pale, delicate hand with one hand while the other supported his waist, helping him up.
Ji Wei seemed unable to handle that kind of closeness; his whole body trembled lightly. He pulled away from Yin Sijue’s grasp and sat back down on the small stool.
The moment his backside touched the seat, a sharp pain shot through him, making him yelp and spring back up.
Yin Sijue rubbed his fingertips together, still feeling the lingering warmth. Without showing any irritation, he looked at Ji Wei with amusement in his eyes.
“How did you even manage that? Falling off a chair while sitting?”
“It’s your fault!” Ji Wei puffed up, glaring at him. “You scared me when you knocked!”
“Alright, alright, my bad.” Yin Sijue apologized quickly—mostly because he had a more important question to ask.
“Why were you suddenly washing the bedsheets—”
He drew out the last word, his gaze shifting toward the sink, where the small white underwear floated. His tone dropped, deliberate and calm: “—and your underwear?”
They were both boys. It only took Yin Sijue one second to figure out what had probably happened.
Still, he couldn’t resist teasing him a little.
The person being teased was both angry and flustered, his whole face turning pink. Under the white bathroom light, he looked like a ripe peach on a shelf.
Ji Wei crouched down again, struggling to lift the heavy, soaked bedsheet by its corners. The wet fabric weighed him down, and he began to scrub furiously, almost like he was venting his frustration.
“I’m not telling you!”
Yin Sijue stifled a laugh. “If you keep scrubbing like that, you’ll tear a hole in the sheet.”
At that, Ji Wei’s shoulders slumped. He lowered his head in defeat, lips pressed into a pout, radiating a quiet air of despair.
“It’s too heavy… I don’t know how to wash it.”
Every room in the team’s base was equipped with a washing machine, but he’d been too embarrassed to put that kind of laundry in it. After searching around, he finally found an old plastic basin covered in dust, scrubbed it clean, and only then started washing the sheets. By the time he got that far, he was completely drained.
Yin Sijue pulled out a folded chair from under the sink, opened it up, sat across from Ji Wei, and began scrubbing the bedsheet with him.
“You used too much detergent. You’ll have to change the water a few times later.”
“Wait!” Ji Wei quickly grabbed his wrist, his voice flustered. “Don’t wash it yet—this is, um, it’s…”
“It’s fine.”
Yin Sijue’s muscles tensed slightly as he wrung the wet fabric in his hands with firm strength, then lifted the basin to change the water. When he came back, he continued washing as if nothing had happened.
Ji Wei crouched on the floor, watching as Yin Sijue carefully scrubbed away every last trace. His toes dug awkwardly into the tiles.
The owner of the bedsheet looked painfully uncomfortable, but the one doing the washing seemed perfectly calm. Yin Sijue worked patiently—rinsing, changing the water, then scrubbing again.
Ji Wei had poured in half a bottle of detergent; the bubbles were so thick they nearly overflowed, making it hard to rinse clean.
The bathroom was quiet except for the sound of running water. After a moment, Yin Sijue looked up at Ji Wei, his voice echoing faintly in the small space.
“I thought you’d left.”
Ji Wei froze for a couple of seconds. “Left? What do you mean?”
“The bed was completely empty. Your clothes were gone too. I thought you’d moved out.”
Yin Sijue brought the heavy basin closer again, his hands moving in slow, steady motions. His eyes lowered, the curve of his lashes casting a quiet shadow—making it hard to read his emotions.
Ji Wei blinked, feeling a faint ache bloom in his chest.
“I have nowhere else to go. I wouldn’t leave…”
After saying it, he realized it could sound misleading, so he quickly added, “Even if I did have somewhere to go, I still wouldn’t.”
“Last night, I was just… a little mad, that’s all.”
“Mm.” Yin Sijue let out a quiet sound of acknowledgment.
He had never really experienced what it meant to panic or lose his temper. Even when others provoked him, he never reacted—if anything, it was the other person who ended up more frustrated.
For him, it wasn’t that he chose not to get angry—it was that he simply didn’t care enough to.
But just now, when he’d pushed open the door and found Ji Wei gone, the violent pounding in his chest had been real. The panic that surged from deep inside, the desperate urge to drag the other back—all of it had startled even him.
Now that he thought about it, it all felt strangely natural.
He couldn’t imagine a life without Ji Wei.
On the other side, Ji Wei’s backside was still sore, so he could only squat on the floor, hugging his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Yin Sijue’s unusually silent expression.
He lowered his head, thought for a moment, then asked cautiously, “If I really ran away… would you be really mad?”
The bathroom fell silent for a full five minutes. Only the sound of water continued, steady and unbroken. The light hit Yin Sijue’s face, gathering a soft shadow along the bridge of his nose. His lashes cast long, distinct lines, and his eyes were dark and unreadable.
Ji Wei breathed in the faint, pleasant scent of detergent from the basin, about to open his mouth and change the subject—break the tension of that pointless hypothetical—
“Maybe I’d be angry at first,” Yin Sijue said at last, after what felt like careful thought. “But I’d definitely go looking for you.”
Something in Ji Wei’s chest tightened, like someone had gently twisted his heart. It hurt a little—and ached even more. His breathing grew unsteady.
He turned his head away, muttering awkwardly, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Yin Sijue finished rinsing the sheet until it was spotless, then stood and poured the bucket of water away. The line of his jaw was taut.
“You’d better not.”
Thankfully, it had all been just a hypothetical. For now, Ji Wei was still right there beside him.
Yin Sijue lifted the clean bucket with one hand and glanced toward the sink. “Do I need to wash the underwear too?”
“No! Just leave it there!” Ji Wei blurted out.