# Chapter 9
Two years ago.
Yu Sui set down the half-finished glass of lemonade on the table and lay back on the bed, relaxing.
The captain's dormitory at the FS esports team base in Shanghai was utterly quiet. The afternoon sun was warm, the window left open, the curtains swaying gently in the breeze and brushing against the glass of lemonade on the table. On the bed on the other side of the table, Yu Sui gradually fell asleep.
The phone on the nightstand buzzed and vibrated continuously, sliding a little closer to the edge with each notification until it finally tumbled onto the floor.
Yu Sui opened his eyes slightly, glanced down at the phone on the floor, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
An hour later, refreshed from his nap, Yu Sui got up, bent down to pick up the phone from the floor, and placed it back on the bed.
Yu Sui splashed some water on his face, sat by the window, lit a cigarette, and checked his phone.
His WeChat was full of various messages, some useful and some not. Yu Sui scrolled through them one by one, replying to the important ones. Then, somewhat surprised, he noticed several missed voice calls from Ke Hao.
Ke Hao was Yu Sui's classmate and childhood friend.
They didn't keep in touch as much nowadays, but their bond had always been solid. Yu Sui called Ke Hao back, and the other end picked up almost immediately. Yu Sui, cigarette dangling from his lips, drawled, "Didn't see it just now. What's up?"
On the other end, Ke Hao sounded like he'd caught a lifeline, wailing pitifully, "Ancestor, you've gone dark on me! I was about to head to your place and wait you out."
"If you go to my place, you won't find me." Yu Sui smiled. "I barely go back a few times a year. What's the matter? What do you need?"
Ke Hao exchanged a few pleasantries before venturing, "Buddy, can you do me a solid?"
Yu Sui took a drag. "Go ahead."
Ke Hao sighed. "My cousin—he's completely cut ties with the family, ran away from home, quit school, and I hear he's been playing games as a streamer lately. My uncle's lung is about to explode. If someone from our family becomes an internet celebrity... what an honor to our ancestors."
The Ke Hao family was in business, but going back eighteen generations, they were all intellectuals—proper gentry from a scholarly family, old-fashioned and conservative. Yu Sui couldn't help but laugh.
But there were way too many dropout internet-addicted youths who ran away from home and didn't want to go to school. Most of Yu Sui's friends were like that; he'd long since stopped being surprised.
Ke Hao complained miserably, "He's in his third year of high school! The college entrance exam is in two months, and his grades were pretty good. Can you imagine him actually dropping out now... What kind of situation is that?! And it's because of gaming—of your FOG, *Between Shadows*! Good lord, my uncle doesn't even dare tell my grandfather, terrified my grandfather would end up in the hospital."
Before Yu Sui could speak, Ke Hao rushed to add, "Don't get the wrong idea! I'm not saying your industry is bad—if he could actually make it to your level, I'd be all for it. But how many people in your field actually make it big? And besides, he's not actually going pro! He's streaming! As a streamer! A streamer, you know?!"
"I know." Yu Sui blew out smoke. "I stream occasionally too. So what's the problem?"
Ke Hao wailed, "Seriously though, he hasn't even finished high school. How's that going to work anywhere? Can you... can you help out?"
Yu Sui said, "Help with what?"
Ke Hao said, "If he absolutely won't go back to school, we can't force him. He's too old to be leashed. I'll be honest—my cousin has always been rebellious, never listened to anyone. My uncle's been tortured by him for years and long since lost hope. But... he absolutely cannot become a streamer. If my grandfather found out, he might not make it."
"I've tried talking my uncle into it too. How about everyone compromise, find a middle ground?" Ke Hao was at his wit's end. "If he really loves that game so much, let him go pro like you. Don't make streaming his main gig. I was thinking, my grandfather's always liked you anyway. If he knew my cousin ended up in the same line of work as you, maybe he could accept it."
Yu Sui, cigarette still dangling from his lips, raised a corner of his mouth. "You think anyone who can play games can just walk into our industry?"
"No no no, I know it's harder than getting into Tsinghua!" Ke Hao hastily apologized. "I got my head all scrambled from my uncle's nagging. What I mean is, could you辛苦 do me a favor and take a look? Is my brother cut out for this or not?"
Ke Hao said, "If he's not cut out for it, we deal with that. But if he really has potential, let him pursue it as a pro player."
Yu Sui wasn't optimistic. "Let me give you a heads-up first—out of a thousand people screaming about going pro, it's a high probability if even one of them actually has the talent."
Ke Hao rushed to say, "Got it, but apparently he's actually pretty good, and he plays the same role as you—he's a medic, that one class, the..."
Yu Sui raised an eyebrow. "Medic?"
Ke Hao slapped his thigh. "Yes!"
Yu Sui nodded. "Alright, send me his ID. I'll check his ranking on the Chinese server."
Ke Hao stammered, "Wh-What did you say?"
Yu Sui clarified, "His game account. Send it to me."
Ke Hao looked blank. "Huh?"
Yu Sui sighed. "Just ask him what I just asked. He'll understand."
Ke Hao wailed, "He blocked me ages ago..."
Yu Sui was stumped. "Then you should crawl back. Can't help you."
"No way!" Ke Hao sputtered, words tumbling out. "This really isn't my fault! My uncle only told me he was going to be a streamer, but he didn't tell me *where*! I asked my uncle, and he was shaking with rage, demanding to know what streaming even was! What was I supposed to do?! I know you might know your way around, but I didn't want to bother you while you were competing, so I asked my classmates back home."
"My classmates back home told me a bunch of stuff, but... I didn't understand a single piece of your jargon! I was running around like a headless chicken for days. My uncle and dad kept pressuring me for answers. I still haven't finished my group project this week. My brain is about to explode. Yu Sui, help me out..."
Yu Sui lit another cigarette, shaking his head. "Can't be done. You don't know anything. Where am I supposed to look?"
"You definitely have a way. Please, buddy?" Ke Hao was terrified Yu Sui would wash his hands of it, abandoning all pretense. "Look... I really don't want to bring up old grudges, but just think—back when you first went pro, that year you went no-contact with your family, who paid for your tuition and living expenses so you could do training *and* go to school?"
Yu Sui countered, "How much was tuition anyway?"
"The tuition wasn't much, that's true," Ke Hao's blood pressure rose as he remembered. "But dare you calculate your *living expenses*? You spent tens of thousands of yuan every month! Whose allowance did you blow through, huh?! My mom actually suspected I was keeping a celebrity sugar baby at that age!"
Yu Sui burst out laughing. "I paid you back, okay?"
"Yeah, you paid me back, but the hardship I went through wasn't a lie! I'd scrimped and saved my allowance for years, and it all went to fund your passion for esports!" Ke Hao's voice trembled with indignation. "Go ask anyone yourself—which runaway has ever lived as cushily as you did back then?"
This was one favor Yu Sui genuinely owed Ke Hao. He relented with a sigh. "I'll... think of something."
The moment Yu Sui agreed, Ke Hao was instantly relieved. "Words can't express my gratitude!"
Feeling guilty, Ke Hao laughed sheepishly. "I know you're busy, but I really had no other choice. I'll treat you to dinner when I'm back in the country."
"Alright." *Thank goodness I've got some free time lately*, Yu Sui thought. "Send me his contact info."
Ke Hao quickly forwarded a string of information, saying, "Name, age, phone number, QQ number—all here. I doubt the phone works though. It's been off for half a month. He doesn't add strangers on social media either. You... should probably start from the streaming platform."
Yu Sui switched out of the call to check the information.
Shi Luo. Male. 17 years old. Height 181 cm.
Ke Hao, the worrywart, had also sent over several photos. Yu Sui glanced at them and raised his eyebrows.
Handsome.
Really handsome.
In the photos, the 17-year-old had his hair buzzed extremely short and bleached white, with several earrings in each ear. Even through all that rebellious styling, you could see past the exterior to the core—he was genuinely good-looking.
This defiant young man's sharp features and cold eyes practically screamed "strangers keep their distance."
Yu Sui tried calling this Shi Luo. Powered off.
Tried adding him on WeChat. No response.
He really would have to start from the streaming platform. Yu Sui sent a message to Ji Yanhan, his club's owner and former team captain, briefly explaining the situation and forwarding Shi Luo's name and age. He asked Ji Yanhan to reach out to contacts at several familiar streaming platforms to see if they could directly locate Shi Luo's channel.
Ji Yanhan was out closing a deal, but he responded right away, telling Yu Sui to stand by for news.
Yu Sui tossed his phone onto the bed and went to take a shower. After washing up, he dropped his dirty clothes in the laundry basket for the base's housekeeping auntie, then came back. Ji Yanhan had already replied.
Ji Yanhan: [Couldn't find this person. Either he's not streaming on any of these major platforms, or he is on a major platform but never signed a contract or uploaded real personal info, so there's no way to trace him. Who is this guy to you?]
Yu Sui was genuinely surprised. Couldn't find him?
Yu Sui told Ji Yanhan not to worry about it and to go on with his business.
So he really would have to search from the streaming platforms. This would take some luck—Shi Luo would have to be live at the right moment, and there was no telling how many rounds of searching it would take to stumble onto him. Yu Sui hadn't wanted to get involved, but thinking back to those New Year's Eves when he couldn't go home, eating dumplings made by Ke Hao's mom at the Ke household, he sighed, went downstairs, and opened a computer in the training room.
His teammate Chen Huo happened to be coming back from outside. When he saw Yu Sui enter the training room, he followed in. "Isn't today a day off? Training again?"
Yu Sui shook his head. "Personal stuff."
Chen Huo shrugged. He'd never touch a computer during his precious little break. He wandered around the training room twice before leaving.
The empty break room had only Yu Sui in it. He opened the first streaming platform, navigated to the FOG game category.
Male, young, plays medic.
Yu Sui filtered out all the professional players he recognized. Based on the meager information Ke Hao had given him, he began checking each one systematically...
Half an hour passed.
An hour passed.
Three hours passed.
Yu Sui set down his mouse, lowered his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
His eyes were going to give out.
Chen Huo had gone out to grab skewers with another team next door and come back. When he saw Yu Sui still sitting at the computer desk, he asked curiously, "You didn't even open the game client or any streams. What are you doing?"
Yu Sui's expression was unreadable. "Going door to door helping a buddy look for a missing child."
"What?!" Chen Huo startled. "Who went missing?! How old is the kid? How tall?"
Yu Sui opened another stream. "Seventeen. One meter eighty-one."
Chen Huo's face was one of pure shock. "...The brain, I assume, isn't working."
"Probably not." Yu Sui grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes, tore it open, and stuck one in his mouth. "I'm going to find this little punk if it's the last thing I do..."
Chen Huo was terrified he'd get roped into this menial labor and tiptoed away.
Yu Sui took a drag and continued searching.
Two hours later, Yu Sui stared at the stream on his screen, his expression dark.
The game being streamed in the channel—FOG, correct.
The class the streamer was playing—medic, correct.
The stream had the camera on. Yu Sui looked at the photo Ke Hao had sent, then at the person streaming—also correct.
This was him.
Everything matched. The stream had decent viewer counts too, so logically it should have been easy to find. But...
Yu Sui desperately wanted to type in the stream to ask this Shi Luo: *You, a skilled gaming streamer, why... in the absolute hell did you categorize yourself under the Otaku Dance section?*
"You..."
Yu Sui hadn't eaten all evening. At this moment, he was so frustrated his stomach hurt.
He'd really pushed himself earlier, checking every possible option, and in the end he had no choice but to go searching in the improbable. He'd clicked through all sorts of weird categories one by one, and then finally, in the Otaku Dance section packed with bouncing, cat-ear maid cosplayers, he saw Shi Luo's uniquely stark gaming interface and his deadpan masculine face standing out like a lone tree in a field of weeds.
Yu Sui was so frustrated he wanted to call the platform moderators to report this streamer for malicious channel-jumping, but he held himself back.
Shi Luo hadn't signed a contract, so the moderators couldn't do anything about his category classification.
"Dammit."
Yu Sui took a deep breath and opened his own game client.
Yu Sui returned to the stream, glanced at Shi Luo's in-game ID, then opened the client and pulled up the Chinese server rankings. In the search bar, he typed: 2000-Luo.
The search results appeared instantly:
2000-Luo. Chinese Server Rank: 179.
Yu Sui froze.
The new season had started less than two months ago. At this point, a huge number of professional players still hadn't broken into the top 300 on the Chinese server, and this Shi Luo was already at rank 179.
Of course, he couldn't rule out the possibility of a booster. Yu Sui closed his client and watched Shi Luo play a match, using the webcam feed to assess, and Yu Sui basically ruled out the possibility of him being boosted.
He was playing it himself.
Yu Sui watched Shi Luo play another match, then sent a message to Ke Hao: [Found your brother. There's potential for going pro.]
Ke Hao replied immediately: [What do you mean "potential"? Can't you check rankings?]
Yu Sui: [High ranking doesn't necessarily mean you can go pro. It's not a guaranteed correlation.]
Ke Hao: [Then how do you judge?]
Yu Sui couldn't be bothered to explain in detail to this layman. [There's a lot that needs to be determined.]
Ke Hao replied: [Then can you help determine it for us?]
Yu Sui: [No.]
As he was about to close the stream, Ke Hao sent another frantic message: [MY ALLOWANCE!! THE NEW YEAR DUMPLINGS!! THE DRAGON BOAT FESTIVAL ZONGZI!! THE MID-AUTUMN FESTIVAL MOONCAKES!!]
Yu Sui paused. Then typed: [Give me a few days... I need to talk to him myself.]
Ke Hao instantly relaxed and sent: [太好了—I mean, great! If only I could get in touch with him, but he says he has nothing to say to "old men like me." I mean, you're the same age as me. So, uh... be careful about that.]
Yu Sui bit back his frustration. He tossed his phone aside, reopened the game client, and created a new account.
Recalling what Ke Hao had just said—"he says he has nothing to say to 'old men like me'"—Yu Sui, when creating the account, changed the age to fifteen. He racked his brain trying to remember what trendy stuff appealed to kids that age, and considering this rebellious teenager's aesthetic and interests, he hastily customized his username and signature.
Yu Sui sent a friend request to Shi Luo in-game using the new account, muttering to himself, "The pro assessment begins. Better accept, kid, or you're about to lose out big..."
At the same moment, in an internet cafe somewhere, Shi Luo's game showed a friend request notification.
Shi Luo clicked to open it—
[①個心碎の朲] has requested to add you as a friend. Request message: [xiao bro, can u not, warm up dis heart dat got hurt?]
Shi Luo stared at this ID. His already sharp brows twitched. Then, the very next second, he hit reject.