Chi Zhan subtly tightened the scarf around his neck.
So warm.
It wasn’t until he stepped into the heated lobby that he finally felt alive again. Seven hadn’t been exaggerating—nights here were bone-chilling, and daytime clothes alone clearly weren’t enough.
Both sides of the lobby were packed with esports fans. The moment they spotted Qi Song, the crowd erupted into deafening screams. If not for the security lines keeping them at bay, they might have rushed forward en masse.
Qi Song’s expression remained unchanged, just as cold and detached as always. He walked through the lobby as if the screaming fans were invisible, heading straight into the livestream studio.
Seven never stopped for anyone. There was never a trace of another soul reflected in his eyes.
On his throne— He sat alone.
That was how the media described Seven. Chi Zhan had never given it much thought before, but hearing it again now, the words felt off.
It seemed… too cold.
Esports was never a one-man endeavor.
The studio buzzed with energy. The other four players were already there, and when they saw Seven enter, they stood up to greet him.
Qi Song nodded in response, offering no further words. But the others were long used to his aloofness. They laughed it off and returned to their seats.
They would play a few matches first, letting the audience trickle into the stream before starting the interviews.
Chi Zhan, meanwhile, headed backstage.
Su Ran was seated in front of the monitor; Zhou Yanxing hadn’t arrived yet.
Ten minutes remained before the event went live.
“Secretary Chi, I can’t believe you actually got Qi Song to show up!” Su Ran exclaimed in disbelief. “He’s a nightmare to book—I’d already prepped for a no-show. How did you pull it off?”
“……”
He wasn’t sure himself. He hadn’t even said much—just introduced himself—and Qi Song had agreed. It still felt surreal, like he was dreaming.
Su Ran sighed wistfully.
“He’s so damn handsome. Perfect face from every angle—if only he weren’t such an iceberg. I suck at flirting with icebergs…”
Chi Zhan recalled Qi Song’s earlier demeanor.
Actually… he hadn’t seemed that cold. But there was definitely a sense of distance. People like him were always the hardest to approach.
A staff member handed Chi Zhan a cup of hot water.
“Hey, that scarf’s really nice,” Xiao Wang suddenly noticed, scooting over to take a closer look. “Looks high-end, kind of minimalist chic—not something you’d expect Secretary Chi to buy.”
Other staff members gathered around curiously. One of them gasped, “Wait! Isn’t that from that brand? I heard they only made two of those worldwide! Each one costs over eight figures!”
Chi Zhan was mid-sip and nearly choked on his water.
E-Eight figures?!
“Looks really familiar…” Xiao Wang squinted. “Hold on, wasn’t there a video of Seven getting out of a car wearing that exact scarf? Secretary Chi, you’ve got great taste—same style as Seven!”
If he admitted now that he borrowed it from Seven, it would only make things more complicated later.
Better to…
A spark of inspiration flashed across Chi Zhan’s mind.
“It’s actually a knockoff.”
“A scarf?”
Zhou Yanxing’s voice cut in from behind. Xiao Wang immediately shut up. Chi Zhan rubbed his forehead.
“President Zhou.”
No one knew when Zhou Yanxing had arrived—he only just spoke now, his eyes landing on the scarf around Chi Zhan’s neck. Since it was still cold, Chi Zhan hadn’t taken it off yet.
Zhou Yanxing’s gaze swept over him.
“Gift from a male streamer?”
“……”
What male streamer?!
If Qi Song ever found out Zhou Yanxing had reduced him to “a male streamer,” he’d probably terminate the contract on the spot and never speak to them again.
“President Zhou.” Chi Zhan hurriedly removed the conspicuous scarf and pushed Zhou Yanxing toward a seat. “The stream’s about to start. You really don’t want to miss it. Xiao Wang, get President Zhou a drink too.”
Zhou Yanxing snorted, but he seemed more mellow today—probably caught up on sleep.
Like Chi Zhan, Zhou Yanxing wore only a thin shirt and jacket. Yet his body radiated heat, completely unfazed by the cold that had Chi Zhan shivering.
“Xiao Wang, make sure to order Secretary Chi an identical scarf. People from our company shouldn’t be borrowing things all the time.”
“…!!!”
Oh no. There are only two of those scarves in the world! Where the hell am I supposed to order one?!
***
The match began. The screen lit up with the host’s impassioned commentary. The crowd exploded, cheering and screaming just like before.
It had been a full year since Seven last appeared in public. No wonder everyone was so hyped. Yet he hadn’t changed at all—if anything, some sharp-eyed fans noticed that his precision seemed even better now, proof that he never stopped training during his time away.
The match was a visual feast, instantly pushing the viewer count in the livestream to its peak. And more people kept flooding in. The production team scrambled behind the scenes.
“Switch the screen! Hurry!”
To the right was a separate interview room set up just for the players. They took their seats in turn.
The host kicked off the standard round of questions. The answers were equally routine—especially from Seven.
But by now, everyone was used to it. After all, Seven rarely accepted interviews. And even when he did, his trademark trio of blank stares, cold replies, and deadpan KO’d any attempt to pry into his life.
Host: “We’ve heard Seven will be participating in the Panda Live collaboration event. What convinced you to join?”
Seven: “The event is being held in Province A.”
Host: “So… planning to do a little sightseeing too?”
Seven: “No. I’m looking for someone.”
Host: “Oh? An old classmate?”
Seven: “An online friend.”
Host: “Seven meeting up with an online friend? Can you tell us their username? Maybe they’re watching the stream right now!”
Seven: “No need. I’ll find them myself.”
