“If someone curses me behind my back, and after scraping his brain empty the worst insults he can come up with are ‘dumbass,’ ‘little bastard,’ and ‘big jerk’, I’d think the guy was secretly in love with me. You get what I mean?”
Nan Zhiyi lay slumped over the table in gloom, fiddling with a blue bird feather between his fingers.
Hands on his hips, Song Baiyu paced back and forth across from him, huffing.
The more he talked, the more he seemed about to crack himself up. “‘Little bastard’? You call that an insult? It’s like a cat scratching an itch!”
“You know where you got the short end of the stick? It’s that you’re too polite the rest of the time. Here, open Stars right now, open the gaming section, click any random stream: how many streamers can go a session without dropping a few choice words about somebody’s parents?” Song Baiyu was still dissecting it heatedly. “And, congratulations, you very inconveniently caught yux at the perfect moment of pulling his disappearing act. Right now his fans are bottling up all this energy with nowhere to vent it—”
“You Qing told me yesterday that yux says he’s going to retire.”
Nan Zhiyi said it in a muffled voice.
“—so you walked right into the line of fire, wait, what did you just say?” Song Baiyu was clearly still riding his anger, barely catching his own tongue.
Then his voice shot up several octaves. “Who’s retiring? yux??? Who told you that??”
“…You Qing.”
“You… what? Who’s that?”
“CG’s new investor.” Nan Zhiyi said. “You should know him. He was a guest caster last year, and it happened to be your playoff match against HYG that he cast.”
Song Baiyu: “…You mean You Qing? The You Qing who starred in Smitten for You?”
Nan Zhiyi was a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were into idol dramas like that.”
“That’s my mom! Over the holidays she’s home glued to it on TV every single day.” Song Baiyu said, annoyed. “You Qing, right? I remember him, that good-looking male celebrity, the blond one, a thoroughbred idiot!”
“That idiot can’t read a match at all! He doesn’t even play the game! And he just has to fake it! I died protecting our carry, and even the coach didn’t say anything to me, then he goes and pipes up that the support’s throwing the game on purpose? Can you believe it?!”
“Wait.” He suddenly stopped. “You’re saying CG’s new boss told you yux doesn’t want to compete anymore, that he wants to… retire?”
It seemed he’d finally hit on the crux of the matter. Nan Zhiyi nodded, gratified.
Song Baiyu stared at him, wide-eyed to wide-eyed.
“Is he crazy or am I crazy?” After a long moment, Song Baiyu said in disbelief. “No, bro, I can’t wrap my head around this. He, yux, retire? On what grounds? Because he just got runner-up last year? Because he’s not even 21 yet? No, on what grounds? If even he should retire, shouldn’t I have packed up ages ago to go work at an electronics factory?”
“Absurd!” He finally slapped his thigh, delivering the verdict.
“…Actually, you make a lot of sense.” Nan Zhiyi tapped the table absently with his fingertips. “But the problem is… sigh.”
“If you knew him, you’d know this is exactly the kind of thing he’d do.”
Song Baiyu looked at him in astonishment. “What thing?”
“Just,” Nan Zhiyi searched for the words, “burn it all down with him?”
“…Burn it all down with who? You Qing?” Song Baiyu puzzled. “I know CG’s management has some issues, I’ve known since my brother suddenly said he was retiring… but my brother at least had a genuine cliff-edge slump. yux, all of last year, even that finals Bo5, there was nothing wrong with his play at all.”
“Would they really go that far? Push their own perfectly fine core player to the brink of wanting to retire?”
“Probably.” Nan Zhiyi said softly. “You know a lot of celebrities debut under stage names, right?”
The topic shifted too fast, for a second Song Baiyu couldn’t follow his train of thought. “Why are you suddenly bringing that up?”
“‘You Qing’ is a stage name. His real surname is You, you know the one I mean…” Meeting Song Baiyu’s increasingly shocked gaze, Nan Zhiyi nodded. “Yes. He and yux are brothers. Blood brothers.”
After a thought, he added, “Half-brothers, same father, different mothers.”
Song Baiyu’s mouth fell slowly open, then slowly closed. From the look in his eyes, Nan Zhiyi could tell he’d already filled in the picture: A war over the heir’s seat [1] a fight over who inherits the noble house, like a palace-drama succession struggle jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2670424_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2670424_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. Always the same old story.
“Okay. If that’s how it is, I can more or less understand why you’d be angry.” Song Baiyu said at last. “But bowing out gracefully at your peak doesn’t work like this. If the team’s no good, switch teams, who just pulls a vanishing act at the height of their career? What does that make of the fans who supported him… To be honest, I think you went a bit light on him. No, it doesn’t even count as cursing. At most it’s the frustration of wishing iron would turn to steel [2] being let down by someone you care about who isn’t living up to their potential jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2670424_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2670424_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, a flash of temper in the moment.”
Nan Zhiyi didn’t say anything. The blue feather slipped from his fingers and drifted to the floor.
Watching him like this, Song Baiyu suddenly felt that same iron-won’t-become-steel frustration himself.
Nan Zhiyi’s unfortunate video was being reposted by ten marketing accounts every second now, both fanbases on the verge of all-out war, yet at this very moment, what this guy cared about most wasn’t “who filmed it” or “what do I do now,” but “is yux really going to retire”?
Back when he himself had stanned CG.Nova, he’d never gotten this fanatical, had he?
It was as if the instant anything connected to that person came up, his brain just flew off and ceased to exist.
Song Baiyu suddenly remembered some strange comments he’d scrolled past on Weibo earlier today.
Things like: 【Why does AngelYi get so shy whenever yux comes up? He’s not that type of person, as I recall】
Someone had replied: 【You remember right, back in the day he lost a PK and, as a dare, recited the opening lines of thirty of his own fanfics with passion, without so much as blinking】
【My heart went cold before his stream yesterday, and bounced back to full HP after. Nobody reacts to seeing their own exposé video like that.】
【Sneaking a ship in amid the chaos, he’s just way too in love】
As a gossip connoisseur, it wasn’t that Song Baiyu didn’t know what they were getting at.
And you know what, it kind of did look that way?
But… it wasn’t very likely, was it.
If there were really anything to it, then he, Song Baiyu, the man’s number-one bro and roeCN’s number-one gossip king, wouldn’t be totally in the dark about it.
He did know Nan Zhiyi had a first love that had fizzled out, one he’d refused to say much about no matter how many times Song Baiyu pressed. From scraps and fragments, Song Baiyu had gathered it was a school-days romance, and Nan Zhiyi’s own description of it was, “We were too young to know better back then, it was all too childish.”
Song Baiyu had wholeheartedly agreed at the time, recalling that back in primary school he’d once played the role of his deskmate’s “concubine” in a game of house.
He shook his head at the thought, trying to fling these strange comments out of his mind.
“So what are you planning to do now? Clarify? Apologize?” Song Baiyu asked. “Say, ‘Because someone told me yux wanted to retire, I got too angry for a moment and had too much to drink, so I spoke out of turn’?”
Nan Zhiyi gave him a silent look.
Obviously, the second he actually said that, things would only get more complicated than they already were.
No solution.
In the end Nan Zhiyi leaned back against the chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed the spot between his brows.
“I want to rest for a while,” he said.
“That works, it’s not like you’ve got any training to do. Frankly, this can only be handled by letting it cool off.” Song Baiyu sighed. “How are you planning to rest? Go travel or something?”
Nan Zhiyi thought about it. “Go out and wander a bit, work on my thesis? I graduate in a few months.”
Song Baiyu had just taken a sip of water and nearly spat it out.
“Damn, I forgot you’re still in college.” He wiped his mouth. “Can’t be helped, our whole WD squad couldn’t scrape together a single high-school diploma between us.”
Only then did Nan Zhiyi crack his first smile of the day.
Song Baiyu patted his own head. “Actually this is easy to sort out, my brother’s seemed pretty free lately. Let me ask if he’s got time to host you for a while, just treat it as getting away to clear your head.”
“Take my advice, okay? This whole thing really has nothing to do with you. Stop dwelling on that yux’s mess.”
Song Baiyu was as good as his word. He got in touch with Song Meng for Nan Zhiyi, bought him plane tickets, even pre-booked the ride-share cars to and from the airport, and repeatedly drilled him on packing every kind of document, fussing as though Nan Zhiyi were starting a licensed job tomorrow, transformed into Nan Zhiyi’s personal full-time mother hen.
Before departure, Nan Zhiyi handed all his various platform accounts over to Sister Li for her professional team to manage, along with an apology statement he’d written himself, the gist being that he was sorry for speaking carelessly while drunk and hurting others.
Sister Li didn’t pile on the blame. She made a point of texting him to rest well, sort out his mood, and pay no mind to the rumors online.
Closing out of his chat with Sister Li, Nan Zhiyi’s hand unconsciously scrolled down through his text messages.
He actually almost never texted with people. So before long, buried in a heap of spam and ad texts, he found the chat thread with someone labeled 【【Blue Heart】】.
Nan Zhiyi tapped into it.
Their second-to-last exchange had taken place three years ago.
【Jan 31, 00:00】
【Me: A joyous, peaceful New Year. Thanks to the friends who’ve walked this road with me. May we all find more laughter and more to harvest in the year ahead, and welcome a brighter tomorrow together! Happy Spring Festival, everyone, may all your wishes come true!】
【Jan 31, 12:14】
【【Blue Heart】: Happy New Year.】
And the very last exchange had come not long after.
【Feb 21, 02:36】
【Me: Can we still be friends T_T】
Scrolling to the bottom, his phone gave a soft buzz.
Like a tiny pebble dropped into a pool, sinking to the bottom before it could even stir a ripple.
Nan Zhiyi’s getaway did not go smoothly.
After the plane landed, he turned on roaming and quickly received the first bad piece of news.
【Meng: Sorry, Xiao Yi, my car’s having some trouble】
【Meng: Broke down on the road】
【Meng: 【image】】
【Meng: I’m out in the middle of nowhere here, can’t even hail a cab. Tell you what, I’ll send you an address first, you cab it to this place…】
Outside the airport, Nan Zhiyi took the address Song Meng had given him and called an Uber.
After much effort he reached the destination, dragged his suitcase off the car, and suddenly felt like something was missing from his pocket.
He reached in, and found the spot where his document pouch had been was now empty.
Nan Zhiyi: “…”
Abruptly turned into an undocumented ghost [3] 黑户, someone with no valid ID or papers jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2670424_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2670424_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); on a foreign street, Nan Zhiyi had no choice but to WeChat Song Meng: 【My bag’s gone, must’ve been stolen before I got in the car, my documents are still in it 【sob.jpg】】
Song Meng replied at once.
【Meng: Don’t panic, send me your location again, I’ll get a friend to come pick you up in a bit】
【Xiao Yi Xiao Yi: Thanks, Brother Meng】
Nan Zhiyi opened “Send Location,” zoomed in on the map, and studied carefully how to describe his whereabouts clearly.
Just then.
Whoosh.
—Nan Zhiyi only had time to see a black shadow flash past him, and to feel an enormous force on his hand.
By the time he realized his phone had been snatched, this uninvited guest, dressed even more conservatively than him, was already pedaling away on a black bicycle, fleeing the scene at a speed Nan Zhiyi had never witnessed in his life.
Nan Zhiyi: “…”
This year… wasn’t even… his zodiac birth year, was it… [4] 本命年, your animal-sign year, traditionally an unlucky one jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2670424_1_4').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2670424_1_4', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });
The first lunar month had barely started, how had he already run into one calamity after another…
Dragging his pocket-sized 20-inch suitcase, Nan Zhiyi stood blankly on the street, feeling for the first time in his life that his very survival had become a genuine question.
The Nan Zhiyi of right now was a device-less, penniless, undocumented caveman.
He hadn’t even managed to send Song Meng his location.
All he could do was pin his hopes on the driver having dropped him near the spot Song Meng had pinged, and not dare wander off again. He dragged his suitcase to the roadside, found some random place, squatted down, and obediently waited for someone to come rescue him.
He’d been squatting only a short while when a “ding” sounded in front of him.
Nan Zhiyi looked up to find a coin had been tossed onto the ground before him.
Surely he hadn’t been mistaken for a beggar?!!
“Hah.” A little dejected, he buried his head in the crook of his arm, calculating the odds that he’d be sleeping on the street tonight if Song Meng didn’t find him.
After another while, Nan Zhiyi sensed someone stop in front of him again.
“…” Don’t tell me they’re going to throw a coin too.
Unable to communicate with anyone, Nan Zhiyi simply kept his head down, eyes closed, and played dead, dead still.
Yet this person was slow to leave.
And, of course, didn’t throw anything at him either.
A long time passed.
“Nan Zhiyi?” The person standing before him called out uncertainly.
Hearing his own name out of nowhere, Nan Zhiyi jumped.
But in the next instant, he registered an even more terrifying problem—
This voice was, to him, familiar to a frankly frightening degree.
Nan Zhiyi raised his head and saw You Xin, in a black hoodie and jeans, dressed like a high schooler passing by after class, even cradling a book in his arms, standing not far directly in front of him.
On that face, whose expression had never once changed all these years, Nan Zhiyi saw a look of astonishment for the first time.
Time felt like it had stretched on for a century.
In reality, You Xin quickly tucked the astonishment back in.
“Have you had dinner?” He bent slightly, asking in a perfectly natural tone. “Are you hungry?”
—As if the one before him weren’t the first love and ex-boyfriend he hadn’t spoken to since their breakup, the one he’d refused to see again.
References[+]