Chapter 92 – No Conservative Tactics
On the other end, Zhao Yan was licking a box to replenish his supplies. “Sorry, sorry, that was my fault…”
“You did great—luring the enemy in,” Yang Sa interrupted his self-blame. “That’s exactly the kind of tactic we need right now.”
“Captain, that’s really not necessary…” halfway through his sentence, Fat Tangyuan realized Yang Sa’s intention and immediately did a 180-degree turn. “Yan Yan, nicely done! This is exactly the kind of surprise play Xinghai needs right now.”
Falling behind in ranking points, Xinghai had no choice but to take the initiative. The more enemies they encountered—so long as they didn’t get wiped—the more kills they could secure.
In the second half of the match, there was no room for conservative tactics.
Of course, other teams were thinking the same way. Suddenly, the whole map erupted in action, and the fighting was more intense than ever.
Yang Sa led the team in a hard push toward the airport. Jiang Ranan got knocked out, and both Yang Sa and Fat Tangyuan were left with only slivers of health. While they healed to recover, Zhao Yan took up the duty of guarding his teammates.
[Starcraft -Rock used MP5K to defeat Light-Moon]
“Oooh, an old acquaintance is here,” Fat Tangyuan gave a thumbs up. “Nice job, little Yanyan.”
Unfortunately, the downed captain of Team Weiguang was rescued by his teammates in a coordinated effort, leaving Zhao Yan feeling a bit regretful.
“That last shot,” Yang Sa rarely spoke, “just think of it as revenge for Brother Ba.”
In truth, Zhao Yan had been restricted to protect his teammates. Otherwise, that last shot might very well have secured the kill.
“This is what esports is about. We’ll cover for your weaknesses—and you’ll protect our health bars.”
As Yang Sa rejoined the fight, he said this while passing Zhao Yan, giving the not-so-new newcomer an infinite boost of encouragement.
Kill reports on the battlefield kept flooding in, and Jiang Ranan couldn’t help but marvel, “Weiguang is really something.”
They were now leading the rankings by a landslide. Even though they had every right to play it safe, they jumped straight into the chaos without hesitation.
“Always stirring things up—so annoying,” Fat Tangyuan followed along. “Captain, let’s take him down.”
Yang Sa was analyzing the kill reports to locate them. At the suggestion, he replied, “Sure.”
Weiguang was currently ranked number one. If they could take them out, their team morale would definitely soar. And if they couldn’t? Then they’d just keep fighting. If you’re afraid of taking risks, then you don’t belong on a battlefield like this.
“Let’s wipe out this squad first—send a message to Weiguang’s bowlegs,” Fat Tangyuan said as he took down the incoming enemies. “Let them know that Xinghai Daddy is here.”
The road ahead was long and treacherous. Before they could catch up to Weiguang, the players of Xinghai would have to overcome countless obstacles. But it was precisely these obstacles that would become their stepping stones, guiding and protecting them as they ascended to a higher, stronger stage.
While crossing a bridge, Fat Tangyuan was “taxed” by another player. When they finally encountered Weiguang, Xinghai fought a 2v4 match-up. With a brutal, sacrificial playstyle, they managed to take out three of Weiguang’s players but ultimately lost. Still, along the way, the team fought with relentless courage, claiming every point they could.
When Xinghai’s match ended, no one spoke, and no one left. They sat quietly in their seats, eyes locked on the scoreboard.
The final match was still ongoing, but Xinghai’s placement had already been sealed.
First place: Weiguang.
Second place: Team Japan.
Xinghai was locked in third.
The fourth and fifth place teams were still in a tug-of-war, their scores rising and colliding.
On the surface, Yang Sa remained calm, but his palms were drenched in sweat.
Sixty points… forty… twenty… ten…
In the lounge, everyone held their breath, eyes glued to the display screen. Even Shao Zhan put down his water glass.
The competition was over.
In the end, the gap between third and fourth place was just ten points.
Xinghai advanced.
…
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Fat Tangyuan jumped up, pounding the keyboard in excitement, then spun around while hugging Yang Sa. “Captain! We did it! We really did it!”
Newcomer Zhao Yan hid in the corner, wiping away tears. Based on Xinghai’s strength, this qualifying spot should have been as easy as reaching into a bag. But with his addition, the road had become so difficult that they almost missed their chance to advance.
Jiang Ranan, now like Zhuang Bai once was, gently comforted the crying rookie. That’s just how it is between teammates—they fight battles together, and go through the highs and lows as one.
However, back in the lounge, Fat Tangyuan still got scolded by Du Changcheng.
“Next time you celebrate, smash your own keyboard!”
Fat Tangyuan winced. “How did you even see that?”
Indeed, during the celebration, he had sneakily pounded Jiang Ranan’s keyboard instead of his own.
And yet that split-second moment on the broadcast… had been noticed.
Still, since the team had qualified, Fat Tangyuan was in a good mood—so he quietly forgave that grumpy old man for picking on him.
Of course, whether the old man forgave him was no longer within the scope of Fat Tangyuan’s concerns.
During the post-match interview segment, although the cameras still instinctively followed Shao Zhan, Xinghai’s new captain was gradually beginning to take up more of the spotlight.
With Shao Zhan—who fancied himself a “secret weapon”—joking and bantering in front of the media, many aggressive questions were effortlessly defused.
Naturally, after the match, the other team captains didn’t bother trying to strike up a friendship with Xinghai’s new captain. After all, with that shameless pest Shao Zhan hovering protectively at his side, they could barely squeeze in a word.
“I mean seriously, sticking that close—is he mentally ill?” Team Jie Ao’s captain Zhou Heng couldn’t help but complain.
“He is mentally ill,” said Weiguang’s captain, passing by and pointing toward Shao Zhan—who was flitting around the cameras like a butterfly. “You’re just now realizing that?”
Captain Zhou stood a little further back. “I don’t recall our relationship being close enough for gossiping.”
“We’re not?” Weiguang’s captain covered his mouth in mock surprise. Then, like a spy exchanging intel, he leaned in and whispered, “Wanna know a secret? Weiguang made it through—we’re first place in the region…”
Weiguang’s younger player, Jiang Te, quickly dragged his captain away. There was no need to become sworn brothers with other teams, but it wasn’t worth turning them into enemies either.
Veins popped on Zhou Heng’s forehead. In that moment, he genuinely couldn’t tell which annoyed him more—Shao Zhan, who flitted around like a butterfly, or Weiguang’s captain, bouncing around like Bugs Bunny bragging about his win.
…
Third place in the qualifiers—barely made it through. For the old Xinghai, this wouldn’t have been anything to celebrate.
But now, with two core players missing, achieving this result was more than commendable.
They hadn’t even arrived back at the Xinghai base when they saw several layers of people crowded around the entrance—players from the second team and the youth trainees had shown up to offer their congratulations.
“These little monkeys, so eager,” said Manager Qin Chuan with a wide grin, handing out the red envelopes he had prepared in advance. He gave Fat Tangyuan a pointed reminder, “No pocketing any—these are all for the junior players.”
Fat Tangyuan snatched a stack of envelopes, eyes gleaming. “Oh, Manager, what are you thinking? Am I that kind of person?”
The words sounded sincere, but his hand was already sneaking toward his own pocket—until Du Changcheng, unable to stand it, gave him two firm smacks and made him stop.
Of course, the youth trainees and second team players were unaware of this little side drama. All they saw were waves of red envelopes flying toward them.
To Yang Sa’s surprise, among the crowd of youth trainees, there were a few foreign faces—one Black, one Blue, and two White teammates. “When did you guys get here?”
Little Black, speaking fluent Mandarin, explained that they’d come to spend China’s traditional New Year (Yuan Dan) with him. Meanwhile, Little Blue was already hugging Fat Tangyuan. For a moment, it was hard to tell which of the two round-bodied figures had the bigger belly.
Little Blue tearfully recounted how his mother had scolded him after he returned home, while Fat Tangyuan animatedly described how he had fallen off a horse, broken his foot, yet still heroically stayed on the front lines despite his injuries, leading the team to conquer the Asia Cup and win their World Cup qualification ticket.
As usual, Du Changcheng didn’t say much. He simply handed each of the foreign friends a big red envelope, which sent the unfamiliar guests into a frenzy of excitement.
It was as if, having received red envelopes, they felt obligated to return the favor with auspicious sayings.
So out came phrases like “May flowers bloom with wealth,” “Abundant harvests,” “Thriving livestock,” “Many children and many blessings,” and even “May you give birth to a noble son soon.” Du Changcheng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Waving them off, he told the youngsters to go have fun while he made his escape to find some peace and quiet with Uncle Zhou.
Of course, amid all the harmony, it was inevitable that a few discordant notes would sneak in.
One such note was Old Pineapple, an esports streamer and friend of the Xinghai team, who got out of a car carrying a bouquet of flowers. His every exaggerated facial expression perfectly captured the phrase “a dagger hidden behind a smile.”
Manager Qin Chuan was the first to sense danger and rushed over. “What are you doing here? It’s so late—your family will worry,” he said while making urgent hand signals behind his back to the new captain, trying to get him to remove the man and avoid a scene.
“I came to bask in the team’s good luck,” Old Pineapple replied, still wearing the same insincere smile. “You wouldn’t stop me, would you, Manager Qin?”
Before Qin Chuan could respond, Old Pineapple, taking advantage of his long legs, strode over to Xinghai’s captain and said with a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Congratulations.”
Shao Zhan wasn’t the type to humor him. He took the bouquet with a perfunctory “Same to you,” and followed it up with, “Now get lost.”
But Old Pineapple was no rookie—he was a wily old fox and completely unfazed. He turned to the new captain. “You promised you’d introduce me to a friend.”
Yang Sa kept up a polite smile. At this point, pretending not to understand would only make things worse. Hands behind his back, he asked plainly, “Which one are you interested in meeting?”
Old Pineapple’s eyes scanned the group of foreign players, picking carefully, before finally landing on Max.
Yang Sa silently said sorry in his head—but this whole mess was something Max had brought upon himself. What could he do now?
By this point, the second team’s coach had already taken the younger players back to the base, leaving only the main team and a few foreign friends.
Fat Tangyuan, completely unaware of the storm that was about to come, cheerfully greeted the long-lost friends: “Let’s go eat hotpot!”
Shao Zhan and Yang Sa smoothly coordinated the car arrangements, both conveniently leaving Max behind.
Old Pineapple sauntered over to the now-alone foreigner, scratching his head as he suggested, “Why don’t… you ride with me?”
Totally oblivious, Max climbed right into the passenger seat without hesitation. The only thing that struck him as familiar was the bouquet in the backseat—he couldn’t quite recall that it was the same one Old Pineapple had just tried (and failed) to gift to Xinghai’s captain.
Old Pineapple followed his gaze, using it as an excuse to strike up a conversation…