Yu Sibai froze in place, unsure whether it was the words that held him or the hands gripping his shoulders.
Ji Wenze’s palms felt warm, even through the fabric of his clothes, and the heat seeped into his skin. Instinctively, Yu Sibai followed the hand with his eyes and caught a glimpse of sweat on Ji Wenze’s forehead. But right now, he had lost the ability to think clearly.
He didn’t know how much time had passed—it could have been a minute, or just an instant—when the pressure on his shoulder suddenly lifted.
Ji Wenze’s hand dropped, and he no longer looked at him, turning instead to the rest of Team One with a faint smile.
“Listen to your team leader. I won’t overstep my authority.” He stepped past Yu Sibai and moved forward, instructing, “Lu Jinren, come to my office for a moment…”
His voice faded behind him as Yu Sibai pressed his lips together and almost mechanically entered the elevator.
Perhaps it was the rush of his own pace, but his heart was pounding violently, threatening to burst from his chest, while his mind replayed the scene of Ji Wenze standing firmly in front of him over and over again.
Maybe… it was simply because it had been far too long since anyone had supported him with such certainty.
Before, there was no one. Later, there was no need—he had built up enough spikes, enough armor to protect himself…
“See you next week, Director Yu.” The voice echoed again in his ears.
Director Yu.
Director…
Yu Sibai stumbled as the crowd pressed into the elevator behind him. The mental replay snapped him back to reality.
No. This wasn’t anything else—Ji Wenze was only doing this to recruit him.
The members of Team One surged in behind him, packed into the elevator like a swarm. The doors closed, and the elevator descended floor by floor, but Yu Sibai’s heart remained suspended, teetering.
“Team leader… are we about to get big…?” someone finally whispered, hope clear in their voice.
That single line was like opening a floodgate; everyone else immediately started chattering excitedly.
“Whoa! Team leader, the way you just revised those diagrams—so cool!”
“Amazing! That’s how we take every project. If you don’t have the skill, don’t even try to grab the high-stakes stuff!”
“Team leader, the last time you went to dinner with the boss, was it fun?”
—I just turned my face coldly and walked off. Yu Sibai thought.
“Yesterday, Director Ji personally said you don’t have to work overtime. Is that true, team leader? So fancy!”
—It’s true, but I still cursed him in my heart and even declined his friend request.
“Team leader, say something! What’s really going on?”
Yes. He wanted to know too. Even if it was recruitment, did it have to go this far?
Yu Sibai pressed his hand to his temple, feeling his thoughts twist into a tangled mess, as though he had lost all control over his life.
Ever since Ji Wenze, the new boss, landed in the company, his quiet, stable, unambitious but peaceful work life had been completely upended—as if someone had poured water into a hot pan of oil.
He exited the building without taking the subway and hailed a cab directly to the gathering.
In his current state, he was even afraid he might miss his stop.
Ji Wenze… Ji Wenze.
He instinctively opened his palm, then curled it back in, repeating the motion in a futile attempt to regain control.
But after a while, he realized he had been staring at the lines on his palm for who knows how long.
His lines were irregular; the lifeline branched wildly, like people constantly coming and going in his life—brief companions who soon left. The career line twisted unpredictably. When he was a child, an old fortune teller had said his career would see dramatic changes.
Could it really mean he would follow Ji Wenze into management?
Yu Sibai tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Seeing Ji Wenze stand so firmly by his side, he couldn’t deny feeling moved—but the returns Ji Wenze expected were completely at odds with his own work philosophy.
Even in those years of desperate overtime to earn money, he had never felt so uncertain about his path. He felt like a gazelle pushed to the edge of a cliff, unsure if his leap would land safely.
…but he never intended to leap like that in the first place.
A wave of grievance welled up, but then guilt followed—he had no one to blame but himself. So he let it simmer quietly as the car moved slowly through traffic.
He arrived in a daze and was led by a waiter to open the private room door. He exhaled, forcing himself out of “work mode.”
The voices of his friends greeted him with a roar, nearly shaking the ceiling.
“Welcome, our championship hero! Respit2! Teacher Res!!!”
After the laughter and cheering, Yu Sibai greeted everyone and found a seat. Everyone was relaxed, a group of young guys attacking the dishes like a whirlwind.
The baby-faced Pupu sat beside him and reminded, “Oh right, aren’t you going to ask about Foun’s stuff?”
Yu Sibai finally remembered and bit his chopstick before asking, “Brother Duan, did you recently send out a set of the Carnival limited gift boxes? The one with the drawing tablet?”
“Ah, yes.” Duan Chengxue across from him nodded. Before Yu Sibai could ask about its origin, he continued, “Did you open it? Did you throw away the box and the certificate?”
“Yeah, it’s unpacked and set up…” Yu Sibai answered, then froze. “How did you know it was with me?”
Duan Chengxue’s eyes flickered; he smiled casually. “I knew it was for you. I gave it to him. Otherwise, if it went to someone else, it’d be wasted.”
Yu Sibai almost instinctively bit his chopstick, muttering, “He really…”
“Really what?” Duan Chengxue asked.
“Really planned it all along.” Yu Sibai gritted his teeth. “Our boss is a sly old fox. If you’ve dealt with him, you know—calculating, manipulating…”
Duan Chengxue had listened attentively. At the last part, he relaxed but his gaze grew confused. Res was cursing the boss so passionately; he probably hadn’t noticed the serial number issue yet… But manipulating hearts? Who? Ji Wenze?
Even outside esports competitions, at the headquarters for all these years, Ji Wenze had a reputation for being cold, calculating, and unsentimental.
He had decisively dealt with many manipulators.
“…I knew this wasn’t easy to get. I should’ve known.” Yu Sibai pressed his lips together, his face falling, his frustration genuine.
Everyone in the circle knew Res was normally calm and level-headed; unless you hit his “Execut2” trigger, he was perfectly polite. Even past boss complaints were mostly humorous.
Duan Chengxue couldn’t help but wonder—what crime had the new boss committed? Surely it wasn’t just that Execut2 was useless, and Res was scolding himself?
“What’s wrong, your new boss bullying you?” he asked.
“It’s complicated. To put it briefly…” Yu Sibai pondered, then described, “He wants to force the good to become bad.”
“Pfft—cough cough cough!” Duan Chengxue immediately covered his mouth with one hand, while the other grabbed a tissue.
Xue Jian, who had been drinking a little while waiting, had been listening curiously with his chin in his hand. Yu Sibai’s words about ‘forcing the good to become bad’ startled him.
He slammed the table, righteous indignation blazing: “What’s your boss’s name? Even here in Shanghai, I’ve got some influence. If not, I have childhood friends, even stronger! Who dares bully you like this?”
“Ah… no need.” Yu Sibai refused, not because he cared about the boss, but because he didn’t want to drag his friends into it.
Xue Jian’s intervention dispersed much of Yu Sibai’s built-up frustration and confusion. Remembering the half-answered question, he turned back to Duan Chengxue.
“You asked about the box… it’s already thrown out. What’s the matter?”
“What about the certificate?”
Yu Sibai waved it off. “Threw it too. My boss signed the WeChat ID on it—kept it would be unlucky… Why are you laughing?”
Across from him, Duan Chengxue’s silver-dyed hair shook as he laughed, yet he still typed away on his phone.
“Bro, good news or bad news first?” he asked casually after wiping tears from his laughter.
“Res, have you ever thought—what if your identity got exposed in real life?”
Yu Sibai had just stuffed a chopstick of food into his mouth, cheeks puffed out, and without thinking, muttered, “Then I quit and run.”
Duan Chengxue raised an eyebrow.
Wow.
“Impressive!” Pupu immediately clapped.
Xue Jian echoed: “Quit! Once you quit, I’ll hire you!”
The only working coach present asked: “Really quit?”
“Really,” Yu Sibai said, lips pursed. “This job’s getting worse and worse.”
Duan Chengxue stifled a laugh and instinctively glanced at the chat—he didn’t feel like tipping anyone off.
After all, both sides were friends… he had to stay neutral.
All he could do was hope Ji Wenze didn’t one day accidentally expose Res’s alternate identity.