Yu Sibai clutched the tablecloth—not because he was thinking about how to lie, but because fireworks were exploding wildly in his head.
The 10th Anniversary Carnival venue design!!!
No wonder he was this excited. Even outside of work, he had been following this event closely. He never expected to hear about it at a business dinner before the official announcement.
How could he not be thrilled by such an unexpected surprise?
Valorant—a game he had been casting for eight years.
His idol, Execut2, was the original “demon king” of the Valorant pro scene. He debuted in the European region, won four championships in three years, and became the brightest star long before the game gained popularity domestically.
In the fourth year of the pro league, the game was approved in China, and the CN region was officially established. Execut2 returned home in high profile.
Just when everyone thought he would continue his dynasty in the CN region—
He abruptly announced his retirement without warning.
And then, he disappeared completely for seven years.
The 10th anniversary carnival being held domestically had already been teased last year. The key point was—rumor had it they would invite retired pro players.
Retired, domestic players—aside from the two who retired just last year, there was no way they’d skip over a towering figure like Execut2.
Execut2. Male god. Idol. Card God…
…Husband!!
If he went as a regular attendee, maybe he’d only get to see him once.
If he went as a guest, maybe he could get an extra autograph.
But if he were the venue designer…
He could take advantage of his role! From rehearsals to the main event! From start to finish! Every second!!
In that instant, only one thought remained in Yu Sibai’s mind—
—Who cares about Yuheng Courtyard, I don’t know her.
I want this!
Team Leader Yu, who had been silent for most of the evening, took a breath and slowly straightened his back. He instinctively tried to smile, then worried his naturally expressionless face might come off as cold, so he restrained himself and said carefully,
“I… know a bit about this game.”
Ji Wenze raised an eyebrow in surprise.
He just exposed himself like that?
Yu Sibai turned to meet his boss’s gaze. Suddenly, he recalled the moment in the break room when Ji Wenze had glanced at his phone and raised his brow. A ridiculous thought flashed through his mind.
…Could it really be?
But in the next instant, he dismissed it himself.
Sure, his boss had helped him avoid drinking and seemed like a good person… but compared to Execut2, he was miles apart.
And there was no way Execut2 would ever say something like “probably some low-tier game.”
To Execut2, that would be no different from being a heartless betrayer.
Steadying himself, Yu Sibai set down his chopsticks. When he spoke again, his tone carried more focus.
“I think this is a very good project.”
“Ten years pass in the blink of an eye. For many people, it’s not just a game—it’s their youth.”
“Maybe when they first started playing, they were still college students, and now they’re already raising their second child. Maybe some couples met through this game—some broke up, others got married. Maybe…”
As he spoke, ideas rapidly took shape in his mind. He laid them out one by one, and for once, his usually indifferent features came alive.
“…If we can capture that kind of emotional resonance in the design, it will definitely become an unforgettable journey for both players and spectators.”
“We can build a carnival venue where people can lay down their burdens and give their youth a place to rest.”
When he finished, silence filled the room.
Only then did Yu Sibai notice—the dishes that had barely been touched earlier were now noticeably reduced.
While he was talking, the two bosses had been eating and drinking quite happily.
Ji Wenze said nothing. He set down his chopsticks, picked up his tea, and took a sip.
President Duan chuckled. “Engineer Yu, you designers really do understand the human touch.”
And said nothing more.
Yu Sibai’s heart, which had been floating high, suddenly sank.
He wasn’t someone who missed subtext—otherwise he wouldn’t have lasted so many years as a top streamer without incident.
He could clearly tell: President Duan’s tone carried a hint of perfunctory politeness.
Subconsciously tightening his grip on his teacup, Yu Sibai hesitated before speaking again.
“Yes. Design needs warmth and empathy.”
He didn’t feel the need to smooth things over—after all, the smooth-talking boss beside him could handle that.
Worst case scenario: resignation with compensation.
After that, President Duan simply laughed it off and turned to Ji Wenze. “What do you think, President Ji?”
Ji Wenze finally set down his teacup with a crisp click.
“Sorry, President Duan. I’m not optimistic about this project. Thanks for thinking of me.”
His long fingers rested on the lazy Susan as he casually glanced over the exquisite dishes, sounding disinterested.
“Games are a niche market to begin with. Even fewer people care about design… It won’t make much money, and it won’t build reputation. Not worth doing.”
…A niche market.
Not worth doing.
Yu Sibai turned his head, suppressing his emotions. His expression remained controlled, but his brows tightened slightly.
Two voices clashed in his mind.
One said angrily: How can a face like that say something so cold?!
The other replied lifelessly: They’re not the same person. What are you even expecting?
Expecting your new boss not to be a profit-driven capitalist, but an artist who values creativity?
Stop dreaming.
The spark in his heart quietly dimmed.
President Duan nodded and laughed. “Haha! Great minds think alike, President Ji! Honestly, I don’t think much of this project either—I only brought it up casually.”
Casually.
Yu Sibai curled his lips slightly and exhaled.
He understood now.
He glanced at the flushed, oily President Duan—tasteless.
Then at the composed President Ji—tasteless times two.
The door was knocked, and the last dish was served. The sweet osmanthus rice cake quickly distracted Yu Sibai from his irritation.
Forget it. Work is still work. At least this Ji guy wasn’t like his previous boss, who funneled every good project to his nephew.
And as for “design needs warmth”… well, that might fool clients. In reality, how much of what they produced was just assembly-line work? He knew it himself.
Making money wasn’t shameful.
Yu Sibai picked up another piece of osmanthus cake, kneading his emotions into the sticky rice and swallowing them.
Side quest failed.
Now he needed to figure out how to secure the Yuheng Courtyard project instead.
A good horse doesn’t graze on old grass—but a workhorse does.
Still, love and disinterest were obvious. Faced with a project he only wanted for the money, Yu Sibai pondered for quite a while.
By the time half the dishes were gone and the alcohol nearly finished, he finally prepared to speak—
When Assistant Yang knocked and entered with a stack of contracts.
President Duan let out three standard “ha ha ha” laughs, signed briskly on the spot.
It happened so fast Yu Sibai didn’t even have time to react.
…Signed?
I didn’t even say anything yet.
Across from him, President Duan raised his teacup. “Engineer Yu, no wonder I had my eye on you!”
Yu Sibai: ?
In President Duan’s eyes, the young man sat upright and composed, unfazed by circumstances, as if only the quality of design mattered—like a dedicated craftsman. It felt novel and admirable.
And those words just now… even if he didn’t fully understand them, such sincerity toward design surely meant he wouldn’t cut corners.
“Engineer Yu, happy cooperation,” President Duan said with a smile.
Yu Sibai maintained his calm demeanor, raised his cup in return, and drank it in one go—clean and decisive.
“Good! Good!”
Under President Duan’s inexplicably appreciative gaze, Yu Sibai set his cup down with a click and poured himself another.
Too salty. Need more tea.
President Duan turned to Assistant Yang. They were clearly more familiar.
“You came at the wrong time, Xiao Yang—the last drink was just finished by President Ji.”
Yang Mengyue smiled gracefully. “President Duan is too kind. When you and President Ji drink, it means Tingji and Hengyun will have a lasting partnership. I’ll just stand by, refill your glasses, and cheer you on.”
The words flowed effortlessly, as naturally as breathing. Yu Sibai couldn’t help being impressed.
President Duan laughed. “Sit, Xiao Yang. Have something to eat.”
Seeing the bosses still chatting, Yang Mengyue sat beside Yu Sibai.
Noticing they weren’t paying attention, Yu Sibai quietly rotated the table so the last piece of osmanthus cake was in front of her.
Yang Mengyue froze, then looked at his expressionless face.
“This one’s good,” he said softly, though his gaze lingered on the cake with reluctance.
Like a perfectly rational office-worker robot suddenly glitching… oddly cute.
She split the cake in half. “Thank you, Team Leader Yu. I can’t eat much—shall we share?”
Yu Sibai’s lips twitched slightly, as if suppressing a smile. “Thank you, Assistant Yang,” he said calmly—then quickly took his half.
Yang Mengyue smiled.
Halfway through, she suddenly sensed a gaze. Looking up, she met Ji Wenze’s eyes—he had clearly seen everything.
She coughed lightly and smiled professionally again. “President Ji, you have good judgment.”
Ji Wenze gave a faint amused snort and looked away.
The dinner ended pleasantly, with everyone gaining something in their own way.
After seeing President Duan off, the three stood outside waiting for the car.
Yu Sibai subtly rubbed his fingers against his clothes. If he weren’t so used to keeping a straight face, he’d probably look uncomfortable right now.
That President Duan’s hands had been… greasy.
Tear.
He turned at the sound. Yang Mengyue had opened a wet wipe and handed it to Ji Wenze. Before he could ask, Ji Wenze passed it to Yu Sibai and took another one himself.
The three stood in the cool evening breeze, wiping their hands in a row—an oddly comical yet harmonious scene.
Afterward, Ji Wenze took out a cigarette, glanced at them, then put it away with a faint smile.
Yu Sibai didn’t notice. His gaze kept drifting toward that face, his mood complicated.
Under the softer streetlight, Ji Wenze’s features seemed gentler.
Then suddenly, that face curved into a fox-like smile.
“Team Leader Yu, do you think I should be more serious?”
Caught off guard, Yu Sibai glanced at Yang Mengyue, then answered carefully, “President Ji… is approachable. Everyone likes you.”
(You’re already scary enough when you smile, he added silently.)
Ji Wenze’s smile deepened as he studied him, like inspecting a new pastry in a bakery.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said softly.
“…Do what?”
“You don’t need to copy Assistant Yang’s way of speaking. And you definitely don’t need to be so enthusiastic with President Duan.”
Yu Sibai pressed his lips together. “Qian Yuanxin put in a lot of effort to secure this project for Qian Chong… I have to be responsible for my team.”
“He was just going through the motions,” Ji Wenze chuckled. “Most people in the industry know Tingji already has a preferred designer. Otherwise, for a project this big, why would only small companies bid?”
Seeing Yu Sibai’s widened eyes, Ji Wenze tapped his palm lightly, smiling.
“Ah, I forgot to tell you—the Yuheng Courtyard project was finalized before I came here. President Duan just likes your previous work and insisted I invite you to dinner. That’s all.”
…You.
Yu Sibai choked.
That familiar feeling of being played resurfaced.
Is this fun for you?? I’m not falling for it again!
He took a deep breath and turned away.
After a moment, Ji Wenze raised his brows slightly, surprised.
He had expected the easily exposed little streamer to leave immediately.
But instead, the young man just turned his head—like rolling his eyes—and stood quietly beside him, his cold face faintly showing irritation.
Something itched in Ji Wenze’s chest.
He swallowed the goodbye on his lips, tilted his head slightly, and smiled.
“Team Leader Yu… do you still want the carnival venue project?”