Being able to game alongside Qi Song again, and watching him use his signature character—Chi Zhan was practically beside himself with excitement.
He really wanted to lane mid with Seven.
Just then, Su Ran chimed in, “How about this—I’ll go top lane with President Zhou? I’ve played for a bit. Not that great, but I can handle a newbie match.”
Chi Zhan lit up inside.
But Zhou Yanxing’s next line shattered that hope.
“Then we’ll all go together. Secretary Chi, what are you standing around for?”
Zhou Yanxing charged ahead with his character, the Little Sprite trailing behind. Chi Zhan followed reluctantly at the rear, while Cen Chi and Qi Song hadn’t moved at all.
A few seconds later, the five red dots representing teammates on the minimap all started moving—in perfect sync—straight toward the top lane.
Zhou Yanxing had already run into an opponent: an agile ranged Marksman carefully lurking under the tower, watching and waiting for Zhou Yanxing’s next move.
Meanwhile, Su Ran kept his eyes on him, healing constantly.
Chi Zhan, hiding in a bush and loafing, took the opportunity to glance at the map—and froze in disbelief.
—Why were all five of them on the top lane?
Had he misunderstood the game rules?
He turned his head—and saw “Yan” crouching beside him. The flame-red cape flowed into the grass with his motion, and those dark crimson eyes stared straight at him.
In the game’s lore, “Yan” was a prince of a fallen kingdom. Even when crouched, he looked elegant and composed. Being one of the earliest characters, he’d undergone several redesigns, each iteration more handsome than the last—his popularity had never waned.
Chi Zhan jumped.
A chat bubble popped up above the male mage’s head—bright yellow, shaped like a fluffy little chick, with two round black eyes. It was adorably cutesy.
Not the kind of aesthetic Qi Song usually went for.
[Opponent is typing…]
This game allowed private messages to individual characters, which showed up as chat bubbles above the player’s head—visible only to the recipient.
Chi Zhan thought for a moment, then typed: Sorry, I accidentally dragged you in just now.
Only then did he notice his own chat bubble was exactly the same as Qi Song’s.
…Had he bought the same one earlier?
The bubble above “Yan” burst, and after a pause, a new one appeared: Mn.
A single syllable. Conversation: dead on arrival.
Chi Zhan had no choice but to send an emoji: smile.jpg
…Wait, that kind of looked sarcastic. Crap—he couldn’t retract it now.
A few moments later, someone crouched on his other side.
It was the Ice King.
Draped in silvery white, with snowy eyes and short silver hair, his white cape fluttered behind him. Even crouching, his pose was graceful—chin tilted slightly upward, exuding the disdain and arrogance befitting royalty.
The Ice King was the very reason “Yan” had lost his homeland. The two nations—ice and fire—had been at war for centuries. Naturally, whenever these two characters appeared near each other, their ultimates would auto-trigger—
The little patch of bush they were hiding in was first scorched to a crisp by fire, then bombarded with hail and snow, until it was completely frozen over—again and again, in a never-ending cycle.
Chi Zhan was totally dumbfounded.
A private chat bubble popped up over the Ice King’s head: Ah-Zhan, is the person next to you a friend of yours?
Cen Chi clearly didn’t watch gaming streams—he didn’t recognize Seven.
And of course, Chi Zhan couldn’t call Seven a friend. At best, they were a streamer and his fan. He thought for a moment, then replied: Just invited by accident.
Cen Chi: Got it. So President Zhou went top lane?
Chi Zhan: Yeah, it’s his first time playing. Let’s go help him out.
Cen Chi: Did you start a new account? Don’t tell me you actually told Zhou Yanxing you were a newbie. smile.jpg
Chi Zhan: ……
Sometimes, Cen Chi was even sharper than Zhou Yanxing. He could deduce the whole situation from a single offhand comment.
While Chi Zhan and Cen Chi chatted, the Marksman on top lane finally realized the “Miner” was a total noob—and started spamming attacks without restraint. He was a higher level, and had premium skins and gear. Even with Su Ran healing nonstop, it wasn’t enough.
Zhou Yanxing lost his temper. He charged in with an ultimate—
—and was instantly sent back to spawn.
The screen turned gray.
While top lane raged with chaos, the bush was its own little death trap. External enemies and internal woes—this game really showcased both.
“……”
He finally ran out from the bush, hoping to salvage the tower. The two children of fire and ice followed him, and together they sent the enemy Marksman straight to the afterlife.
But with no one defending the other two lanes, the enemy team pushed straight to their base. With a loud “Boom!”, their home base shattered.
[Defeat. Try again next time.]
But it seemed Zhou Yanxing was the only one who actually wanted to win. In that match, every time Zhou Yanxing ran into an enemy, he died. Every single time. Over a dozen deaths.
Zhou Yanxing frowned.
“Is this really how the game is supposed to be played?”
Su Ran chuckled.
“Everyone’s like that their first time.”
Zhou Yanxing looked baffled.
“Then why didn’t Chi Zhan die even once?”
Same newbie status, but Chi Zhan’s stats were way better.
Chi Zhan thought, It’s bad enough you died—don’t drag me down with you.
Zhou Yanxing cast a sidelong glance at him, a thoughtful look in his eyes. Just then, the car pulled up at their destination.
Seven was the first to exit the game room. Cen Chi followed right after.
Chi Zhan was still puzzled. It felt like Seven had wanted to say something to him earlier—but in the end, said nothing. Then again, that matched Seven’s usual streaming persona, so he let it go.
Maybe, like him, Seven had just accidentally tapped the invite?
“Qi-ge, why’d you suddenly quit just now?” Chen Che’s voice rang out noisily as he pulled off his headset. “I was just about to queue up for ranked—”
He leaned over and saw that Qi Song’s character was still crouched in the bushes. He raised an eyebrow. “No one really passes through here, right? What’s the point of hiding?”
Qi Song seemed to be typing something. As Chen Che came closer, he quickly hit delete. Chen Che only caught a glimpse of the first few words: “You’ve been…”
Been what?
Chen Che glanced again—then suddenly lit up like he’d discovered a new continent.
“Wait, isn’t that the same rich fan from last time? Seriously, Qi-ge, ditching us to game secretly with a fan? Don’t tell me he’s been throwing money at you again?”
