Chapter 68 – A World of Two
Back in those days, playing esports didn’t earn much money. From what he knew, almost all of Qu Jin’s earnings had been taken by his adoptive parents.
Training records showed that during his youth team days, Qu Jin dedicated nearly every waking moment to practice—aside from eating and sleeping. It was likely he had made some sort of agreement with his adoptive parents, willingly becoming their means of income.
Most likely, his only goal in all of this was his younger brother.
But Shao Zhan had no intention of sharing this theory with Yang Sa. After all, both Qu Jin and the couple who adopted him were no longer alive. Maybe, in the long years they’d spend together in the future, he would eventually share his thoughts—but definitely not now.
“Boss—bo-bo-boss—” Qin Chuan burst into the training room holding his phone, did a little spin, then swiftly hopped back to the doorway, peeking around the doorframe like he didn’t want to disturb the harmony of this little world of two.
“What is it, Xiao Chuanzi?” Yang Sa, feeling a bit awkward, fiddled with the computer. Shao Zhan, on the other hand, casually shot a deadly glare at the man in the doorway.
“Head office called and asked you to attend a meeting,” Qin Chuan said, holding up his phone. “They tried your mobile, but no one answered.”
Shao Zhan replied calmly, “I must’ve accidentally set it to silent.”
Inwardly, Manager Qin Chuan muttered, Your heart’s way too chill. Outwardly, he bowed with mock formality, “I respectfully send off the imperial envoy on his return journey.”
“Smartass.” Shao Zhan shot him a curse before turning to Yang Sa, who was focused on adjusting his weapon parameters. “I’m heading out. Might not be back for a few days. If anything comes up, have Xiao Chuanzi handle it.”
“Got it,” said Xiao Chuanzi in a deliberately nasal voice. “Might as well just call me a eunuch already.”
“I wouldn’t trouble the manager for small things,” Yang Sa added, still a bit shy and not used to the teasing. “I just heard the team’s recruiting a coach. I know someone from my time in Germany who’s really skilled. I think he could help the team out, given our current situation. Can I recommend him?”
“No problem. Xiao Chuanzi will handle the hiring process,” Shao Zhan said. “For training arrangements, you and Lao Du can coordinate. If anything can’t be resolved, come straight to me.”
Yang Sa nodded and shifted his attention back to the game. By now, the other players had finished eating and were returning to training. He set up a custom server with a password and sent it to the group. “Training starts in ten minutes. I’ve posted the schedule in the group chat—everyone, check it.”
…
In games where they had the upper hand, they only got better. In games where they were losing, morale plummeted fast.
Watching an enemy—who should’ve been eliminated—get rescued by a teammate driving a car, Fat Tangyuan looked at his GORZA rifle with tears in his eyes. “GORZA, what’s wrong with you? Just because the old beast isn’t here, you’ve gone completely soft?”
“Cut the chatter,” Yang Sa’s voice came through the team’s voice channel. “We’ve got incoming from N Harbor.”
“Roger that.” Fat Tangyuan jumped into the open-top jeep, swung by the Puzzle Building to pick up Yang Sa, and the two headed out to regroup with Jiang Ranan and Zhuang Bai.
Just moments ago they were teasing each other over voice chat—now, the moment he arrived at the factory area, Fat Tangyuan was greeted by two bright green loot boxes from his fallen teammates.
“You guys are too thoughtful. Sure, I don’t have a ton of gear over here, but no need to be so generous,” Fat Tangyuan quipped as he stopped the car. He glanced at the “remains” of his brothers, looted two boxes of ammo and a scope, then climbed up the side of the building using the scaffolding.
Jiang Ranan, who was spectating him, couldn’t be bothered with the antics of the chubby little juggler. He was carefully scanning the area for any enemies still in hiding.
Yang Sa, who had gotten out of the car early and flanked ahead, took out the enemy sniper. Acting as both point man and bait, Fat Tangyuan jumped into the building and finished off an enemy holding a secondary sniper position. Just as he was about to regroup with Yang Sa, he was ambushed by the two remaining enemy players.
By the time Yang Sa finished dealing with a new wave of enemies and rushed over, Fat Tangyuan had already ended the skirmish with a two-for-one trade.
“Sorry,” Fat Tangyuan muttered as he switched to spectate from Yang Sa’s point of view. The match wasn’t going well, and he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
Dead was dead. In the battlegrounds of PUBG, there was no room for luck, and even less for excuses. The enemy’s bullets wouldn’t pause to hear your reasoning, and the scoreboard didn’t adjust itself to your personal struggles.
Even though Yang Sa gave it everything he had, the circle shrinking was brutal. In the end, their placement stopped at the top eight.
Du Changcheng, who had been temporarily sent to the second squad as a coach, rushed upstairs to the training room, staring at the side profile of his teammate with a barely restrained scowl.
He’d left the room to give them space—hoping they’d bond quickly and build some real battle chemistry. Who would’ve thought that in the blink of an eye, it’d turn into this kind of match?
If Shao Zhan were still here, Du would’ve argued with him for a few lines and then gone straight into a full-on rant.
But unfortunately, Yang Sa was the one in charge now—calm, reserved, and clearly carrying the full weight of the team. The former captain wasn’t around, and Yang Sa had stepped up under pressure. The stress he was under was obvious.
Du Changcheng didn’t want to add to the kid’s mental burden. Just then, Qin Chuan—who had been dozing off in the single-seater couch—groggily opened his eyes.
“Lao Du?” he mumbled, instinctively tapping open a food delivery app. “You guys done over there? Want me to order some late-night snacks…”
“Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you think about!” Du Changcheng immediately launched into a tirade. “You’re the team manager! If you want to sleep, go back to your room! Always lounging around here like a slob—no wonder the kids are picking up bad habits from you!”
The innocent bystander, Qin Chuan, clutched his chest dramatically. “What now, your hemorrhoids flaring up again?” He began pounding on his hip bone in exaggerated agony. “I told you that Sichuan food we had this afternoon was gonna mess you up. Swollen again, huh?”
Noticing the curious stares from several directions, Du Changcheng immediately shielded his lower half. “What are you all looking at? Wanna lose those eyeballs, do you?!”
Watching his furious reaction, manager Qin Chuan made a calm diagnosis: “Yep. It’s the hemorrhoids again.” Then he got up to leave, wanting nothing to do with the storm of negativity and heading out for a midnight snack.
Fat Tangyuan shoved his round face in front of Du Changcheng. “Lao Du, you should ask the doctor if the second surgery comes with a discount,” he said, deliberately stressing the lighter tone on the word.
“If you don’t stop talking nonsense, I’ll give you a discount—on your limbs!” Du Changcheng smacked him on the shoulder, only for his hand to bounce off the thick layer of fat. “Go lose some weight, you little gremlin.” He turned to Qin Chuan, who had already made it to the door. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Food,” Qin Chuan replied under the dim light, eye bags puffed like pillows. “Nothing here needs me anymore.”
“We’re supposed to be doing a post-match review. How is it that it doesn’t concern you?”
Qin Chuan sat upright on the couch, holding a small notebook. He glanced sideways at Lao Du, who was gesturing grandly in front of the holographic screen, and silently wondered what he’d done to offend him.
That line of thought lasted right up until the food delivery call came in.
…
Whether it was due to the team’s poor coordination or just a bad streak, even Yang Sa’s individual training wasn’t going well. He wanted to get in more practice but didn’t want to seem too different from everyone else. After all, eating late-night snacks together was still a good way to bond.
During supper, he casually brought up the idea of bringing in a foreign coach with Qin Chuan and Du Changcheng. It was already part of their long-term plan anyway. Du Changcheng told him to invite the person over for a chat and then went off to discuss the next training phase with the coach of the second team.
As soon as Du walked out, Qin Chuan let out a huge sigh of relief. “You guys think Lao Du’s hemorrhoids are acting up again? He just refuses to admit it.”
“Embarrassing, probably,” Fat Tangyuan replied smoothly, chewing on a saucy braised pig’s trotter like a seasoned food critic. “We’re all men here. It’s understandable.”
“Let’s open our minds a little,” Qin Chuan said with a mischievous grin, trying to lead the conversation further.
“Maybe… it’s menopause?” Jiang Ranan mumbled uncertainly as he slurped his cold noodles.
Qin Chuan was just about to offer the kid a loving pat for the effort when he suddenly felt a chill breeze brush past from behind. “Welp, it’s getting late. I’m gonna go get some beauty sleep. You guys should wrap it up too.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll go soon,” Fat Tangyuan said, laser-focused on stacking pig knuckle bones into a mini pagoda. His chubby hands wobbled with every move.
Sensing danger, Zhuang Bai didn’t have time to stop Fat Tangyuan’s big mouth. Instead, he reached out to cover Jiang Ranan’s, just in case the kid said something unfortunate too. Then he turned his head and said quickly, “Coach, is there anything else you’d like us to do?”
“Tomorrow,” Lao Du said darkly, face black as thunder, “we’ve got a scrim scheduled. Be in the training room an hour early.”
“Hahahahaha,” Fat Tangyuan let out a nervous laugh, sucking in a breath, “something so small, Coach, you could’ve just said it in the group chat. No need to trouble yourself to come all the way here!”
Du Changcheng placed a hand on his neck and gave it a firm but not-too-hard squeeze. “I’m going through menopause—I like hanging around with you young punks.”
“Hahahahahahaha, sure, hang around, hang all you want…” Fat Tangyuan laughed with tears almost forming, raising half a pig’s trotter he’d already bitten into. “Coach, want a bite?” He blinked innocently, adding, “It’s really good.”
Du Changcheng let go of him. “Push the meeting time forward by another half hour. We’ll do physical training first.”
Fat Baby Tangyuan let out a dramatic wail and pretended to cry right there on the spot.
“Alright, enough with the theatrics.” Zhuang Bai gave his bro a light punch on the shoulder. “He’s already gone.”
One second he was crying like the sky was falling, the next Fat Tangyuan went completely silent. Still tear-streaked, he resumed gnawing on his pig trotter, grabbed the leftovers from the table, and cheerfully waddled off to bring them back to the dorm for later.
Jiang Ranan, chopsticks frozen in mid-air, stared in disbelief as his food was brazenly stolen. He chased after him, grumbling, “You greedy pig! What, you’ll die if you eat one bite less?”
“Your phones.” Zhuang Bai picked up the two cellphones left on the couch and jogged after the two clowns.
Yang Sa quietly cleaned up the trash, not daring to linger. He returned to the training room to work on the specific issues the coach had pointed out.
In the empty hallway at midnight, the sound of a keyboard echoed softly.
…
A low-profile BMW X5 stopped at the entrance of the base. Fifteen minutes later, Shao Zhan finally finished signing the documents and got out of the car with his laptop.
Ever since taking over the management of the company, he’d had too many social engagements and rarely returned to the base. On one hand, there was simply too much going on. On the other, he was afraid of getting sentimental. Besides, with the Asia Cup just around the corner, he didn’t want to affect the team’s morale.
It just so happened that tonight’s dinner meeting was at a hotel near the base, and since it was already late, he made a last-minute decision to stay over.
What he didn’t expect was that not only was Uncle Zhou still awake, but Bage (the parrot) was also up. Apparently, the bird had lost a fight with a stray cat nearby and was feeling pretty miserable.
Shao Zhan gently patted Bage, who was curled up in Uncle Zhou’s arms, and comforted it:
“Lost the fight, huh? That’s okay. Next time, we’ll have your chubby brother get payback for you.”