The “All-Fish Banquet” was laid out on the table. Compared to yesterday, the six of them were much more familiar with one another, and the frequency of polite formalities had dropped significantly.
Perhaps because the ingredients were the result of their own labor, Lin Shen ate with great gusto, even going so far as to praise Ye Hancheng’s culinary skills. Returning the favor, Ye Hancheng bobbed his head while complimenting Lin Shen’s excellent fishing.
“You two sound like a pair of ‘plastic’ friends flattering each other,” Chu Xingyun muttered while sipping the milky-white fish soup.
“Can’t be helped. Life can’t always be real; occasionally, it needs a little falsehood,” Lin Shen shrugged, picking up a piece of fish from the grill. “Though it’s true that my hard work hasn’t been wasted.”
Ye Hancheng scoffed. “Hey, you unrefined fellow… having this fish go into your mouth is the real waste of my hard work.”
“You just praised him, and now you’re back to being insincere? Your words and heart are at odds again,” Cen Jing teased with a smile, biting into a small fried fish.
Chu Xingyun explained with needle-like precision: “The flattery wasn’t practiced enough. He got embarrassed and annoyed because I poked a hole in it.”
Lin Shen and Ye Hancheng: “…”
Young people these days really didn’t give their elders any face.
“Great, now they’re even more annoyed,” Chu Xingyun said, completely unafraid of offending anyone.
“Ahem.” Lin Shen hurriedly drank some water to cover his awkwardness. “You child, you have to learn the art of ‘seeing through the truth but not speaking it’.”
【Seeing Through but Not Speaking It—basically a confession that everything Chu Xingyun said was right~】
【My heart is turning soft watching this; it turns out this show is the truly healing one.】
【I suspect you’re throwing shade at a certain other travel show that claims to be a ‘healing journey’ but is currently a complete mess.】
【Ahem, did you forget what we just learned? See through it, but don’t say it!】
Chu Xingyun feigned a look of grievance. “But I have a mouth; it’s meant for speaking.”
Ye Hancheng gave him a kind, fatherly smile. “Come to my room tonight. I’ll keep you company and talk as much as you want.”
“…I was wrong.” Chu Xingyun slid into a formal apology immediately. “It’s not that I don’t want to chat with you, it’s just that I have other things to do at night~”
Cen Jing: “…”
Baiting people again.
“What things?” Ye Hancheng asked, following the script.
“Well, once we’re off the clock, it’s personal business, of course,” Chu Xingyun answered vaguely before pivoting to a new topic. “Speaking of which, since the misunderstanding has been cleared, do you two seniors have any plans to collaborate on a movie again?”
Lin Shen instinctively looked at Ye Hancheng. “To be honest, not for the moment. As for the future, it’s hard to say.”
Ye Hancheng felt the same as Lin Shen. “I know everyone hopes for us to work together again, but we can’t collaborate just for the sake of collaborating. I don’t know if you all understand that?”
“I think I get it,” Chen Shu nodded. “Jiang Xun and I carry that kind of expectation as well.”
“Every success has its own unique path; it’s not something you can replicate just because you want to.” Lin Shen set down his chopsticks and sat up straight, his expression quite serious. “However, I’m not afraid of carrying expectations even if that statement sounds a bit humorous given my recent string of failures.”
Jiang Xun said dismissively, “That’s just how it is. Even if I lose several matches in a row, I’m still not going to chicken out next time I’m on stage. Being a coward is the same as losing before the game even starts.”
Ye Hancheng gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit.”
“True, true,” Chu Xingyun agreed casually, lightly bumping Cen Jing’s shoulder. “Isn’t it the same for us?”
“…What formula are you trying to force us into now?” Cen Jing glanced at him coldly.
Those people were at least career partners; their success or failure could be measured by public standards. They, on the other hand were just a “ship” for fans. Why was he trying to join the party?
“If the formula fits, I might as well steal their solution,” Chu Xingyun said, poking at the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks.
Cen Jing: “…Just give it a rest.”
Dinner ended smoothly. After some time for digestion, the six of them gathered in the media room. Since there wasn’t much hosting required, the production team skipped the staff presence and simply left a mission card in the room.
Chu Xingyun looked at the large screen in the center of the wall, which featured a picture of Jiang Xun’s face from back when it was covered in teenage acne. Jiang Xun leaned back in the center of the sofa, snapping open a bag of chips. “Let’s hear what kind of stupid things I used to say.”
“Are you pretending to be relaxed, man?” Chu Xingyun pulled Cen Jing’s sleeve, leading him to sit on the same side. “Try not to slip through the cracks in the floor later.”
“Psh,” Jiang Xun picked out a chip. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Lin Shen was quite curious: “Then let’s just start.”
Chen Shu and Jiang Xun met in an internet cafe.
Not long after Jiang Xun started playing the game, he used his incredible talent to climb all the way to Master rank to win the internet credit prizes the cafe offered. Just as he was enjoying the compliments of several onlookers, an announcement blared through the cafe:
【Welcome, ‘Challenger’ tier Great God [Shu], to the station. We wish you victory in every battle today!】
In an instant, the people surrounding Jiang Xun all ran off to see the “Challenger.” Since the cafe opened, this was the first time a Challenger-tier player had appeared.
Jiang Xun muttered to himself that it was probably some vain guy who borrowed an account to act cool, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he followed the crowd. After watching one game, Jiang Xun became even more convinced of his “borrowed account” theory. Why? Because the person played the Support role. The position everyone knew required the least mechanical skill.
Thinking that the spotlight shouldn’t be stolen by a fraud, he sat down next to the person and sent a duo-queue invite, intending to use his own mechanics to reclaim his glory.
Chen Shu had only come to the internet cafe because his home internet was having issues. He didn’t think much of Jiang Xun’s invite, assuming the guy just wanted to ride his coattails for some rank points. Since he was a bit tired anyway, he figured he’d relax with a lower-tier game. He borrowed a Diamond-tier account from someone nearby and started duo-queuing with Jiang Xun.
Then, a new world opened for Jiang Xun.
For the first time, he felt what it was like to have kills served to him on a silver platter. Flamboyant positioning, extreme kiting, frantic damage output… he didn’t need any of it. All he had to do was press a few buttons and land a few basic attacks to rake in the kills.
Refusing to believe it was real, he started a second game immediately. The feeling was exactly the same. But after that game, Chen Shu praised his skill level, saying few people at this rank could fully keep up with his rhythm.
Jiang Xun felt both thrilled and annoyed. He put all his effort into regaining control over the bot lane rhythm, playing more and more aggressively, even charging in with no defensive items to initiate team fights with his bare chest. An exasperated Chen Shu awarded him several eye-rolls and the nickname “Mad Dog.”
From then on, Chen Shu got a membership at the cafe, and the two would play together whenever they had time. Jiang Xun was short on money and occasionally took “boosting” jobs; sometimes Chen Shu would join him, sometimes not. Later, they began playing in small tournaments with prize money. Their teammates in other positions changed often, but these two remained fixed.
Slowly, they gained fame in the circle, and professional teams started contacting them. Chen Shu asked Jiang Xun if he wanted to go pro. Jiang Xun said if it paid more than what they were making now, he’d do it. Chen Shu rejected invites to the youth academies of major teams, choosing instead a small team in the secondary league that paid based on performance and guaranteed them both starting spots.
The first step of their “Golden Road” began there. Relying on sheer individual strength and extreme “exploitation” of their other teammates, the two led an obscure little team into the public eye, completing the most exaggerated world record in esports history. It was truly “peak at debut.”
In countless post-match victory interviews, Jiang Xun would always find a way to mention Chen Shu. Everyone thought these two were so sticky that they’d probably be entangled for a lifetime. But during the next transfer window after reaching the summit, the two left for different teams. After that, their names became forbidden words to each other.
“So, why?” After watching the “Reminiscing” video, Chu Xingyun still didn’t understand.
“That’s why this show exists so the parties involved can give us the answer,” Ye Hancheng shrugged, looking at the two in the middle.
Chen Shu took a calm sip of tea: “Actually, I don’t understand either.”
Back then, Jiang Xun told Chen Shu that a team was offering a high salary to scout him. Jiang Xun was very interested, but the team couldn’t afford both of them. Chen Shu didn’t say a word; he even helped review the contract to make sure there were no issues before letting him leave with peace of mind.
“Uh…” Jiang Xun had buried his head in his knees. “There’s nothing else. Just… I wanted more money. And they kept asking me where Chen Shu went. It was annoying, so I just banned the topic.”
Chen Shu: “Mm, and I responded with an equal countermeasure.”
“Hmm… this answer…” Chu Xingyun frowned. “It feels like I haven’t heard anything at all.”
Jiang Xun couldn’t say more: “The fact is just that simple.”
He couldn’t exactly tell people that ever since he had the urge to kiss Chen Shu’s mouth on the podium, his heart would race and he couldn’t stop looking at the guy’s lips, causing him to lose all focus and mess up his game mechanics… so he had been in a hurry to escape, right? If he said that, would he still have the face to live in this world?
“Not enough twists and turns,” Chu Xingyun wagged a finger. “Think about the convoluted plot between Senior Ye and Teacher Lin yesterday. Don’t you feel ashamed, Jiang Xun?”
Jiang Xun: “…Are you looking for a fight?”
Lin Shen added fuel to the fire: “Even if a flat plot like this were written into a script and filmed, it would be deleted during editing.”
Chu Xingyun grabbed the remote, clicked it several times to navigate to a specific clip, and pressed play.
Jiang Xun’s voice rang out again: “Switching partners? What a joke. No one in this world suits Chen Shu better than me! Oh… you want me to switch? Even more impossible. Except for him, no one can keep me on a leash.”
The next scene was a group interview with the new team. A reporter asked a question about Chen Shu, only to be reminded in a whisper by a staff member that questions regarding Chen Shu were prohibited.
Chu Xingyun pressed pause. “Explain. What does this mean?”
“A man’s promises are always like this,” Jiang Xun said, stiffening his neck. “Anyone who believes them is an idiot.”
Chen Shu: “Who are you calling an idiot?”
【Explain. What does this mean?】
【Chu Xingyun! You scumbag! [Spitting/Cursing]】
【So the ‘severed ties’ we believed in was actually just a one-sided cut by one person.】
【Why? Someone ask deeper!!!】