“Yan Shu, how could you participate in match-fixing?”
“Yan Shu, you were the teammate I trusted the most…”
“Yan Shu, the match is lost. Are you satisfied?”
“Yan Shu, Yan Shu…”
“Yan Shu!” A powerful shout pierced straight through the swamp-like, chaotic dreamscape.
Yan Shu snapped awake from the turbulent nightmare, gazing hazily at the person before him with eyes unable to focus.
“Don’t sleep, wake up.” Zhuoyue lightly patted Yan Shu’s cheek while his other arm tightly wrapped around Yan Shu, holding onto the person he could not afford to lose.
He could not let go. If he let go, Yan Shu would slide down the muddy slope.
The drizzle showed no signs of letting up.
When Yan Shu fainted, Zhuoyue had tried to pull him up, but the soil around this uninhabited island was extremely loose, prone to small-scale collapses under the relentless pounding of the heavy rain.
The muddy pit where Yan Shu lay was situated right at the junction between a high slope and a low depression. The soil here was entirely fluid, utterly unable to withstand the erosion of the storm.
“Zhuo… yue?” Yan Shu recognized the person before him, letting out a faint sound.
Why was Zhuoyue here, and why did he look so anxious?
Shouldn’t he be gloating over his misfortune?
Observing the terrain to figure out how to return to higher ground, Zhuoyue heard the voice and turned his head toward the person in his arms. “You’re awake? Can you climb up with me? Don’t let go no matter what, hold on tight to me, understood?”
Though Yan Shu’s entire body was freezing, an internal fever burned fiercely within him, feeling as if he had swallowed molten lava.
He could hear Zhuoyue’s voice and tried to exert strength through his arms, but even clinging to Zhuoyue’s shoulders and back felt overwhelmingly difficult, while the pain in his legs intensified continuously.
“M-My legs won’t move, and I have no strength in my arms either. You don’t need to put on a show of kindness in front of me…” Yan Shu used all his remaining strength just to spit out a complete sentence.
You hate me, don’t you? Why bother saving me?
Zhuoyue had no idea what kind of tantrum Yan Shu was throwing. His hand gripped a section of exposed tree root overhead. Pulling himself up alone would have been relatively easy, but attempting to lift Yan Shu along with him was likely impossible.
A single slip would only compound their misery.
Observing the terrain back and forth, Zhuoyue noticed a flat rock shelf a little over two meters down the slope. The rock face matched the size of a small stage and appeared quite stable.
Since climbing up was impossible, descending was the only option. Reaching a flat area would at least allow them to use a phone to call for help. Zhuoyue’s phone was thoroughly soaked, and he had no idea whether it would even power on, let alone pick up a signal.
At the very worst, someone was bound to come searching for them before nightfall.
“Yan Shu, there’s a platform a little over two meters down, we’re going down there. Hold onto me tightly, I won’t let you get hurt again,” Zhuoyue proposed.
With his mind clouded by fever and suffering intensely, Yan Shu murmured a muffled affirmation.
Assuming Yan Shu was answering him, Zhuoyue felted around the surrounding terrain, released his grip on the tree root, and quickly wrapped both arms securely around Yan Shu.
The two rolled down the slope together, with Zhuoyue wrapping his entire body around Yan Shu to shield him, coating his captain’s uniform jacket thick with mud.
After a few heart-stopping seconds, the pair landed steadily on the platform.
Zhuoyue lay flat on the rock surface with Yan Shu pressing down against his chest.
Due to the fever, Yan Shu’s breathing came in heavy gasps.
“Yan Shu, are you alright?” Zhuoyue raised a hand, hovering it in mid-air for a moment before giving in to the urge to pull Yan Shu into an embrace.
Yan Shu caught his breath. “It hurts. Leave me alone, just go.”
“What nonsense are you talking about? Your fever is addling your brain.” Slowly straightening up, Zhuoyue guided Yan Shu into a semi-reclined, semi-embraced position tucked against the corner of the rock face.
Clouded by fever, Yan Shu could not even keep his balance leaning against the stone, his upper body listing sideways.
Just as Yan Shu’s body tipped over, Zhuoyue caught his chin and rested it against his own shoulder. “Lean on me, stop moving around.”
“Mh… fu…” Yan Shu mumbled.
Leaning in closer, Zhuoyue realized Yan Shu was babbling about the vice-captain again.
“I’m not your vice-captain, I’m your captain,” Zhuoyue retorted with sudden, childish defiance.
Hearing the words, Yan Shu fluttered his eyes open, muttered a string of unintelligible phrases, and ended with a clear declaration of “so cold.”
“Cold?” Born with a naturally high body temperature, Zhuoyue felt no extreme chill despite being drenched in the rain. It suddenly dawned on him that Yan Shu was soaked through to the bone, meaning the wet clothing clinging to his skin must feel freezing.
The storm had eased slightly; summer rains always arrived and vanished abruptly. Terrified that Yan Shu’s condition would deteriorate further, Zhuoyue reached frantically into his pocket.
“Damn it.” Zhuoyue discovered his phone was thoroughly waterlogged and refused to power on.
How long would it take to dry it out enough for a restart?
Left with no alternatives after pondering for a long while, Zhuoyue reached out. His fingertips brushed against the zipper of Yan Shu’s jacket, pulled it down, and stripped the outer layer off.
The moment his jacket was removed, Yan Shu blinked his eyes open, fixing his damp, watery gaze on Zhuoyue while his other hand gripped the collar of his inner shirt tight. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you take off your wet clothes.” Zhuoyue intended to strip off Yan Shu’s inner layer as well; wringing them out before putting them back on beat wearing soaked garments.
Guardedly, Yan Shu seized Zhuoyue’s wrist, his eye sockets rimmed with a feverish red flush. “Why are you taking my clothes off…”
“Huh?” Zhuoyue halted his movements.
“You’re just trying to… humiliate me,” Yan Shu lifted his gaze. “You should have just left me alone.”
“What are you talking about?” Zhuoyue never expected Yan Shu to blurt out such paranoid delusions.
The atmosphere froze instantly. Grioved and aggrieved inside, Zhuoyue certainly had no intention of bullying Yan Shu into this state. He could roughly piece together that Yan Shu suspected him of orchestrating these hardships, explaining such intense self-defense.
Right as Zhuoyue sat in silence, Yan Shu broke into a violent fit of coughing, stuttering uncontrollably without stopping. His breathing turned chaotic, resembling an asthma attack yet carrying distinct differences.
Frowning deeply, Zhuoyue inched closer to Yan Shu, brushing aside his damp bangs to watch his labored breathing with mounting tension.
“You, breathe through your mouth.” Seeing Yan Shu struggle for air, Zhuoyue knitted his brows in worry. After a brief hesitation, he extended his thumb, slid it past the corners of Yan Shu’s lips, and forced his teeth apart. “Don’t forget to inhale, take a deep breath.”
His fingertips were coated in slick, wet saliva, pulling into thin, silky threads as he withdrew his hand.
Refusing to indulge in wild fantasies over a sick patient, Zhuoyue reined in his straying thoughts.
“Stop humiliating me like this…” Fever-addled and half-conscious, Yan Shu let his eyelids droop as he panted weakly. Leaning against Zhuoyue’s chest, physical misery made him momentarily forget how to draw breath.
Stubbornly, Zhuoyue defended himself. “If you insist I’m humiliating you, then consider this the humiliation.”
“Cold…” Before Yan Shu could finish, another coughing fit struck, turning his breathing completely erratic.
Continuing this way offered no solution. Stripping off his own remaining dry layers, Zhuoyue pulled Yan Shu tight against his chest, using his own body heat to warm him.
“You’re the one who doesn’t know how to breathe.” I’m not trying to kiss you.
Dropping those words, Zhuoyue pinched Yan Shu’s chin and pressed his lips down onto his.
“Mm…” Yan Shu offered a feeble push, though his struggles proved entirely futile.
Perhaps Zhuoyue radiated enough heat, or perhaps Yan Shu lacked the strength to resist.
Yan Shu gradually ceased his resistance, leaving himself at the mercy of Zhuoyue’s devouring warmth.
What kind of humiliation was this, anyway?
The realization struck both of them simultaneously.
Before crossing the line into a complete loss of control, Zhuoyue voluntarily halted the intrusion. Pinching Yan Shu’s chin, he issued a warning tone. “If you forget how to breathe again, I’ll keep giving you artificial respiration.”
Closing his eyes, Yan Shu regulated his breathing back toward normalcy.
Watching the person in his arms drift into a quiet slumber allowed Zhuoyue to finally relax.
The storm cleared as the sun unexpectedly broke through the clouds, bathing them in mutual warmth.
Feeling unwell and trapped against Zhuoyue’s torso, Yan Shu did not dare move an inch, keeping his eyes shut in a light doze.
Zhuoyue maintained his watch beside Yan Shu without shifting an inch.
By sunset, the SR team’s logistics staff arrived alongside rescue personnel to finally locate the spot.
“Coach Jane, over here! We found them!” The rescuer crouched down by the edge of the mud pit and looked down. “Are either of you injured? I’ll drop a rope down, can you climb up?”
“No, he’s injured,” Zhuoyue replied.
Spotting the two locked in a tight embrace, the rescuer gave a peculiar look. “Is he very sick?”
“Yes.” Realizing the strange glint in the rescuer’s eyes, Zhuoyue refused to loosen his grip.
Acting like an obstinate child unwilling to let strangers take away a cherished possession.
“Alright, hold on a moment longer while I grab some gear.” The rescuer abandoned further questions and turned back to coordinate the extraction.
Equipped with a full set of professional rescue gear, the team hauled the stranded pair up after a round of strenuous effort.
The moment Yan Shu reached the top, medical personnel transferred him directly, taking him by boat off the island to a nearby hospital for treatment.
Fellow survivor Zhuoyue possessed a resilient constitution; after a hot shower and a cup of brown sugar ginger tea upon rescue, he remained completely unharmed. The only reminders were faint bruises across his shoulders and back that throbbed upon contact, likely from rolling down the rock platform.
Zhuoyue kept the injuries on his back entirely to himself.
Everything settled down.
An accident during the training period failed to halt the SR team’s special training schedule, meaning the plan would not pause simply because of Yan Shu.
Ever since the incident between Yan Shu and Zhuoyue, however, Luo Yan frequently botched operations during training sessions, zoning out completely whenever team fights broke out.
Even someone as thick-skinned as Lin Qi noticed Luo Yan’s unusual behavior.
Following three days of intravenous drips at the hospital, Yan Shu’s fever finally broke, leaving him pale and exhausted as he drifted off to sleep.
The sleep proved surprisingly restful, likely aided by the sedative properties of the medication.
Waking up the next day, Yan Shu found the sun hanging high in the sky.
Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was a plump little hand resting on the hospital bed railing. A toddler then poked his head out, staring at Yan Shu with wide, watery eyes before flashing an innocent, darling smile.
“Uncle, Uncle!” The little boy grinned sweetly.
“Little Peanut, that’s your uncle, stop calling him random things,” a woman’s voice chimed in from the other side of the bed.
Shifting his gaze, Yan Shu spotted an elegantly dressed, mature woman seated opposite him. Her brown hair was coiled atop her head, framing a delicately made-up face designed to project an older, sophisticated air.
“Sister-in-law?” Having spent years abroad, Yan Shu felt a flicker of uncertainty.
Even upon returning to the country, he had lacked the face to contact his remaining relatives.
Dong You handed a peeled apple to Yan Shu. “Xiao Shu, have some fruit first.”
“I…” A thousand words crowded Yan Shu’s throat, but when reality struck, he struggled to force out even half a syllable. Staring at the offered apple, a momentary hallucination made the figure sitting there resemble his older brother.
“Xiao Shu, why didn’t you mention anything when you got back?”
The faces and voices of his brother and sister-in-law blurred into one.
“I’m sorry.”
Dong You let out a long sigh, sliced a piece of apple off with a fruit knife, and pressed it directly against Yan Shu’s lips. “Stop apologizing. If your brother were still here, seeing you like this would break his heart.”
The mention of his brother dragged Yan Shu’s memories back to the catastrophe that struck his family following the conclusion of the second World Championship. His nose stung as tears threatened to spill, prompting him to force his upper body up, accept the apple from his sister-in-law, and chew it mechanically.
Dong You wiped her hands with a wet tissue, casually sweeping a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Back to playing professional gaming again? Is your money enough? With your current physical and mental state, how come none of your teammates are here keeping you company?”
Yan Shu remained silent.
Having spent years navigating the corporate world, Dong You possessed razor-sharp observation skills. Without requiring Yan Shu to speak, she could easily deduce his current standing within his new team.
“When you were dominating the pro scene back then, people grew jealous and plotted against you behind the scenes. You couldn’t clear your name, so even starting over, your teammates probably treat you like trash. Xiao Shu, if things truly don’t work out, come back to the family business. Although I manage your assets, they belong to you in the end. As long as you return…”
“Sister-in-law, I’ve already made you lose my brother. Consider those assets my compensation to you. I know those shares can’t make up for even a fraction of my brother, and managing them all this time has exhausted you. If you’re truly tired, sell them off, I won’t object.”
Yan Shu came from immense wealth, living as a pampered crown prince since childhood. Had it not been for his obsession with esports, he would have returned long ago to inherit the family empire.
“How could I sell them? Those represent the lifeblood of your uncle and aunt,” Dong You countered.
Yan Shu covered his face, burying his anguish behind his palms. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t made them come watch that match, they wouldn’t have died in a speeding crash. It’s all my fault, and to think I even uttered those words. I’ve failed everyone, but Sister-in-law, I have no choice. The only reason I keep up psychiatric treatment and return to competitive gaming is because the letter my mother left behind told me to achieve my dream.”
He refused to fail at everything.
If he returned to manage the corporate empire, what could someone who knew nothing beyond video games possibly accomplish?
He could only exhaust every ounce of his strength to realize his dream.
The child pursuing their dream shines the brightest. Your father and I understand now, we will support you forever. Keep walking forward, and your dreams will come true, my child.
Closing his eyes, Yan Shu could vividly picture the letter recovered from the pool of blood. It was supposed to be handed to him personally by his mother following a championship victory, only to turn into a suicide note.
The memory sent Yan Shu’s breathing spiraling into ragged gasps.
Noticing the erratic rhythm, Dong You lunged forward to press the wall call button, seating herself beside him to pat his back in soothing motions.
Sensing his uncle’s distress, Little Peanut crawled to the bedside and held up a toy. “Uncle, Uncle don’t cry, you can play.”
Barely past four years old, Little Peanut perceived Yan Shu’s fragility instantly.
Yan Shu shed no tears, yet his facial expression slipped entirely out of control, hovering on the precipice of weeping.
“Alright, alright, Xiao Shu, everything is in the past, stop dwelling on it. Blame me, blame Sister-in-law for bringing up such things.” Knowing Yan Shu currently lacked parents and anyone to offer warmth, Dong You stepped into a maternal role, holding Yan Shu as she coaxed him like a child.
A doctor and two nurses rushed into the room, moving swiftly to examine Yan Shu upon seeing his state.
After running a round of routine checks, the doctor shook his head. “Still psychological trauma. Feed him some anti-stress medication. In this condition, he can only self-soothe. Family member, step outside with me.”
Standing in the hallway, the doctor addressed Dong You in detail. “His psychiatric condition appears to have received treatment abroad previously, and while it may have improved slightly compared to the initial stages, his panic response remains severe. Strangely enough, he exhibits zero suicidal tendencies, indicating an overwhelming willpower to accomplish a specific goal.”
Dong You frowned. “Doctor, you mean…”
“Is he some sort of athlete? Perhaps his psychological illness stems from his passion, but true recovery requires facing the root cause. Family member, whatever he wishes to pursue, let him do it. Once his wish is fulfilled, his condition may experience spontaneous healing.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Scanning the chart in his hands, the doctor added, “If he remains stable through tonight, he can be discharged tomorrow.”
Expressing gratitude repeatedly, Dong You stepped back into the room.
Calmed by the medication, Yan Shu stared blankly out the hospital window. He had grown alarmingly thin, still clad in his unwashed team uniform, rendering him as frail as a sheet of paper. His complexion retained a sickly pallor; while his natural lip color was decent, poor circulation turned his lips pale pink, throwing the small black mole beneath his lower lip into stark relief.
“Xiao Shu, if you wish to play matches, go ahead. I’ll handle everything else,” Dong You said with a heartache.
Sitting on the bed playing with toys, Little Peanut looked up and wrapped his arms around Yan Shu. “Uncle, Little Peanut likes Uncle, Uncle needs to stay healthy.”
Yan Shu’s heart melted as he lowered his head to embrace Little Peanut. “Mm, I’ll definitely be fine, I’ll definitely bring the championship back.”
Having returned to the league for such a short duration, how could he collapse into despair over two lost matches?
Dong You stayed by Yan Shu’s side until evening, ensuring he ate properly and fell into a deep sleep before feeling secure enough to leave him alone in the ward.
That night, Yan Shu slept early, drifting into a rare, pleasant dream upon closing his eyes.
Waking up the next morning, Yan Shu felt an uncanny sense of calm. Completing discharge procedures early, he discovered upon settling the bill that his emergency and treatment fees had been cleared by two different individuals.
Treatment fees were most likely covered by Dong You, but who paid the emergency fees?
The handsome guy who brought you in…
Yan Shu recalled the doctor’s remark.
Aside from Zhuoyue, no one else from the team matched the description of a handsome guy.
Noting down the emergency expenses, Yan Shu left the hospital and hailed a taxi back to the SR esports club.
Arriving at the club around six in the morning, with plenty of time before training, Yan Shu glanced down at his attire and decided to take a shower and switch into a fresh uniform.
Entering the dorm, he found Qi Le sound asleep with zero intention of waking up.
As Yan Shu opened the wardrobe to search for garments, a groggy Qi Le stirred awake.
“Moon God? You’re back? Are you alright?” Qi Le’s voice remained thick and gravelly with morning vocal fry.
Yan Shu nodded. “I’m fine, I’ll go train after a shower.”
“Huh? Moon God, Captain Zhuo said we get two days off, today is still a holiday.” Qi Le rubbed his eyes, letting out a massive yawn.
Yan Shu found it peculiar. Logically speaking, someone like Zhuoyue wasn’t the type to grant consecutive days off to the team.
“Moon God, I’ll sleep a bit longer, you rest too after your shower, I heard you were sick.” Too exhausted to keep his eyes open, Qi Le curled back under the covers.
“Mm.” Yan Shu grabbed his change of clothes and stepped out.
The early morning bathhouse remained completely deserted, allowing Yan Shu to claim a corner stall.
Washing away the hospital’s disinfectant smell, Yan Shu wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped his hair as he walked out.
Just as he reached the lockers, footsteps echoed at the entrance of the bathhouse.
Lifting his gaze, Yan Shu locked eyes with a shirtless Zhuoyue. Exchanging a stare, an eerie awkwardness settled between them.
Zhuoyue habitually went for morning jogs, always heading straight to the first-floor bathhouse to rinse off before returning upstairs. Assuming today’s holiday meant zero early morning bathhouse traffic, he had stripped off his soaked top in advance, never expecting to run directly into Yan Shu.
“Back?” Zhuoyue asked casually, masking his surprise.
Yan Shu paused mid-wipe, his eyes darting away unsurely. Maintaining eye contact during normal conversation was polite, but with both men standing half-undressed, direct eye contact was entirely impossible.
“I didn’t get a chance to request leave from the club while at the hospital, so I had to come back early. I’m completely fine.”
“Completely fine? You didn’t look fine when you had that panic attack.” Zhuoyue paused. “What illness?”
“Nothing.”
Yan Shu had zero intention of disclosing his condition; explaining everything thoroughly would only invite unnecessary trouble.
“You have to hide something like that?” Zhuoyue turned back in dissatisfaction, catching Yan Shu unguarded as he dropped his towel to dry his body.
A fair neck, a slender waist, rounded hips…
Damn.
Taking in that sight, Zhuoyue’s Adam’s apple tightened instantly.
Long ago, he had harbored wild fantasies about Yan Shu. Yet, constrained by the secrets surrounding Yan Shu, he had temporarily buried those feelings. He never expected that, even now, he would still react this way toward Yan Shu.
Fearing that lingering any longer would betray his abnormality, Zhuoyue quietly slipped away.
Unaware of Zhuoyue’s internal turmoil, Yan Shu finished drying off and changing clothes as usual. When he turned back after dressing, he found Zhuoyue already gone.
“I really am fine. By the way, you covered my emergency fee, how should I…”
The sound of water spraying from a showerhead echoed through the bathhouse.
At that moment, Zhuoyue was taking a cold shower.