Chapter 3 – My Obsession
Before the other person could say anything, Shi Cha hurriedly added:
[LR is the Best]: [Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. Also, that wasn’t my real voice earlier—it was a prize from a stream giveaway. A viewer made the request.]
So he was a gaming streamer too. No wonder he played pretty well.
Lin Ran smiled knowingly but didn’t bring up the high-pitched voice from earlier, nor did he mention the team tryout.
[Cha Henduo]: [Want to play a couple of rounds together?]
Shi Cha glanced at the time—it was already ten o’clock. Without hesitation, he typed, “Sure!”
His strict bedtime routine, maintained for years, shattered effortlessly in front of this person.
Blushing, Shi Cha proactively sent a team invite.
To his surprise, a voice chat invitation came just moments later.
In-game, teammates in ranked parties could talk to each other directly.
After a long pause, Shi Cha’s hand trembled as he finally clicked [Accept].
““Hey, can you hear me?”
A deep, magnetic voice flowed through his headset, sending a shiver down Shi Cha’s spine and making his scalp tingle.
He struggled to steady his voice, cleared his throat, and replied using his youthful streamer voice, “Yeah, I can hear you. I was just looking for my headset—it took me a bit.”
That was his excuse for the delay in answering the call.
He used his streamer voice because he had accidentally let it slip earlier that he was a streamer. And someone had watched today’s stream—if this ever came up again, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
That streamer’s name was Cun Yao.
Right now, he was Cun Yao the streamer, not Shi Cha.
If it had been before today, running into Lin Ran, he might have used his real voice and told him he was Shi Jian’s younger brother—Lin Ran’s old friend.
But today, he had used such an embarrassing, squeaky voice and flirted with Lin Ran for a whole twenty minutes.
There was no way he could admit that he was actually Shi Cha.
Yet he couldn’t give up the chance to spend time with Lin Ran, even in a different voice.
Shi Cha’s voice was youthful and full of energy—it made him sound quite young.
Lin Ran said, “Your voice sounds pretty young. Are you an adult? If you’re underage, there’s anti-addiction restrictions—you really shouldn’t be playing this late.”
“Ran…” Shi Cha swallowed the next word, then replied in a bright and cheerful tone, “Ran-shen, I’m already twenty. I’ve even graduated from college.”
“Graduated at twenty? You must’ve been a great student—skipped a few grades, huh?”
Being praised by his longtime crush made Shi Cha feel like fireworks were going off in his heart. He tried hard to hide his shyness.
“I skipped three grades in middle and high school, but I spent three years playing games in college, so there was no skipping ahead anymore.”
Just those two short sentences gave Lin Ran all the information he needed.
Already an adult and a college graduate—probably no longer under any parental restrictions about gaming. And with three years of experience, his proficiency with various heroes should be more than enough.
Twenty years old—not a bad age at all.
In every aspect, he met the requirements for a tryout.
Lin Ran spoke again, continuing to praise him: “Then you’re amazing too. You’re really good at the game.”
Shi Cha felt like his face was burning. Afraid Lin Ran would keep complimenting him, he quickly said, “Ran-shen, are you ready? If you are, I’ll start the queue.”
The voice that came back was still gentle. “Go ahead, queue us up.”
Lin Ran had once been a championship-winning mid-laner. Even though he had retired a year ago and his mechanics had declined from not playing much, his game sense was still sharp. Besides, this was only a ranked match—not a professional league game.
Not to mention, he had a jungler with excellent map control and rhythm.
With their mid-jungle synergy, Shi Cha and Lin Ran crushed the opposing team into surrendering.
Even their teammates couldn’t help but praise them: “Didn’t expect to win this easily at this rank. Big thanks to our mid-jungle duo for carrying us!”
For the first time, Shi Cha felt just how fun gaming could be. His eyes sparkled with excitement.
He eagerly queued up for the next match.
The coordination between the two was so natural that most of the time, they didn’t even need to use voice chat. With just one move from Shi Cha, Lin Ran would immediately understand his intention and follow up perfectly.
“Ran-shen, you’re seriously amazing. Being your teammate is such a blessing!”
“You’re amazing too!”
Just as Shi Cha was about to queue for another match, he suddenly realized it was already past midnight. They had originally said they’d play just two games—but somehow, two hours had flown by.
“Sorry, Ran-shen, I didn’t realize it got so late. Did I keep you from resting?”
Lin Ran chuckled lightly. “Not at all. I had a great time.”
Shi Cha’s heartbeat had finally calmed down, but Lin Ran’s laugh sent it into chaos again.
Lin Ran: “Want to keep going?”
Shi Cha quickly shook his head. “No, no, I’ve bothered you enough. You should rest.”
Lin Ran didn’t insist. “Alright then, let’s play again sometime.”
Just as Shi Cha was waiting for him to log off, Lin Ran suddenly asked, “Would you be interested in joining Team LL? Not for a tryout—I’m offering you a spot as an official member.”
Shi Cha froze. He hadn’t expected that after turning down the team manager’s offer for a tryout, Lin Ran would still extend an invitation—and not just for a trial, but as a full member.
“Playing these matches with you, I saw how talented you really are—especially your game sense. In a match, the situation can shift in an instant. Whether the jungler can seize the moment and take control of the pace makes all the difference. You’re genuinely cut out for esports.”
Shi Cha let go of his mouse and stretched his hands, loosening up his joints.
His voice was no longer cheerful—it now carried a tinge of disappointment and grievance.
“If only I’d received this kind of invitation before you retired… that would’ve been amazing.”
Maybe it was because he was hiding behind a username online, but Shi Cha felt that as a fan of Lin Ran, it was okay to say things like this.
“Ran-shen, four years ago, I happened to see the video of you winning the Best Rookie award. That was when I first started getting into gaming. You’ve been my idol ever since.”
Lin Ran didn’t interrupt—he simply listened quietly.
Shi Cha stared at his open palm. “I’ve never been obsessed with competing or winning trophies.”
What I truly care about… is whether I can fight alongside you and stand with you on the podium.
If you’re not there, none of it matters.
But Lin Ran was already twenty-six. For a professional esports player, twenty-six was definitely considered old.
Lin Ran would never return to the pro scene.
“Ran-shen, I don’t have ambitions in that area. Just being a streamer, playing games for fun—that’s good enough for me.”
Lin Ran was silent for a moment. He didn’t try to persuade him further. He just sighed softly.
“What a pity. If you’d entered the esports scene, I believe you would’ve achieved a lot.”
Shi Cha chuckled, his tone light again.
“The real pity is you, Ran-shen. If you’d retired a bit later, LL could’ve won even more championships.”
Lin Ran’s voice was gentle and laced with amusement.
“That really is a pity.”
Shi Cha paused, surprised to discover this somewhat self-loving side of Lin Ran.
Lin Ran said,
“Alright, it’s getting late. Even if you’re twenty now, you should still go to bed early and wake up early. Young people need regular routines.”
“Got it. Goodnight, Ran-shen.”
“Goodnight… ‘the best’.”
Shi Cha blinked. The best? What did he mean?
Lin Ran chuckled, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Isn’t your ID ‘LR is the Best’? If I don’t call you ‘the best,’ should I call you ‘LR’? Feels like I’m talking to myself.”
Shi Cha groaned inwardly. So his ID had been seen through by Lin Ran.
He let out an awkward laugh, stammered out another “Goodnight,” and quickly shut off the game.
Only when the computer screen went completely black did it really hit him—
He had just played games with Lin Ran. Not just one match—multiple.
Those two hours felt like a dream.
He flopped onto his bed with glee, buried his face in his pillow, and rolled around in excitement.
Three years of hard work had transformed a total gaming newbie into who he was today.
It had all been worth it.
Four years ago, Shi Cha had finally gotten into the same university as Lin Ran—but by then, Lin Ran had already graduated.
He was in the directing program but didn’t go into film right away. Instead, he jumped headfirst into the esports world, choosing to become an older-than-average pro player.
It was from that moment that Shi Cha realized: gaming could be a real profession—and even bring glory to the country.
The first time he downloaded the game Lin Ran had played, it took him a whole week just to get through reading all the hero introductions.
He stumbled and fumbled his way through learning the mid-lane heroes that Lin Ran used, officially beginning his journey into the world of gaming.
As a socially anxious person, he was constantly berated by teammates in-game. Pale-faced but determined, he kept practicing. When he finally mastered all the mid-lane heroes and earned a national Top 100 rank, his only friend asked him:
“You’re really good at this—why not try going pro? I don’t think you’re any worse than those professional players.”
That was the first time Shi Cha realized: as long as he worked hard enough, he might actually have the chance to stand on the same podium as that person.
But after a year and a half of training, he’d only learned to play mid-lane. And in a match, there could only be one mid-laner. There was no way he could compete for Lin Ran’s position.
So, Shi Cha shifted his focus to other roles—ones that closely coordinated with the mid-lane: support and jungle. Between the two, he preferred the role of jungler—the thrill of controlling the pace of the game with every precise strike.
He spent another year and a half mastering every jungle hero.
Just as he was preparing to graduate early and apply for a tryout with Team LL, Lin Ran suddenly announced his retirement.
In the retirement video, Lin Ran bowed deeply to all the fans who had loved and supported him.
Shi Cha quietly deleted the game from his computer, then slipped into a life of “grandpa mode”—waking up at six, sleeping at ten, and drinking tea daily.
Gone was the version of himself who had trained obsessively, day and night, for three years straight.
His friend asked, “Weren’t you about to try out for Team LL? Why’d you suddenly quit gaming? Is it because Ran-shen retired?”
Shi Cha still remembered how he’d held his teacup, gazing into the distance, and replied calmly:
“I guess I just suddenly lost my sense of direction.”
Back then, Shi Cha never imagined he’d have another chance to play games with Lin Ran.
His decision from three months ago had definitely been the right one.
Becoming a streamer turned out to be the perfect job for him.
As Shi Cha drifted off to sleep with a smile, he had no idea that a trending topic involving him had just made it onto the hot search list.