Tong Yao had a nightmare.
In the dream, she was drunk out of her mind at a street bar, jumping around like a monkey. When she returned to the team headquarters, she saw the new Mid Laner who was about to replace her... She cried, sobbing uncontrollably, her words slurred as tears streamed down her face, repeating only one phrase: "I'm strong, I don't want to be the substitute guarding the Water Dispenser." Finally, she hugged Lu Sicheng with utmost sincerity and said, "Cheng Ge, let me sing for you. Please let me be the starter."
Then she earnestly sang "Fireflies Fly."
Halfway through, she moved herself to tears, clinging to Lu Sicheng as if he were her long-lost father, and started bawling again—
The sorrow in the dream, the feeling of being abandoned by the world, felt unbearably real.
What happened afterward, Tong Yao didn’t know, because she woke up in terror by then. In the dream, Lu Sicheng’s face—expressionless and menacing—as he listened to her trembling voice singing "Fireflies Fly, fireflies fly" looked so vivid and three-dimensional, perfectly matching every wanted poster of a murderer she had ever seen.
"......"
When Tong Yao opened her eyes, she glanced at the wall clock in her room. It was 11 AM. The ceiling above her spun—she lifted her feet and shook the blanket, but no furry creature emerged from under it: her Da Bing wasn’t there.
11 AM was already past the usual breakfast and dignified bathroom time for her health-conscious, routine-loving cat. As a responsible cat owner, fearing that her cat might flip the litter box full of cat poop out of hunger and dissatisfaction, Tong Yao struggled to ignore the spinning ceiling and forced herself out of bed...
Only to realize the entire world was spinning.
Her head throbbed as if it had been split open, and her entire body ached as though she had done eighty sets of calisthenics followed by headbutting a wall all night. When her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled as if stepping on a sponge. She crawled halfway into the bathroom to take a sobering shower. By the time she came out, she was slightly more alert. Drying her hair, she opened the door to look for her cat—only to accidentally kick a plastic bag placed right outside her room.
"...What’s this?"
Tong Yao bent down to pick it up and found a box of hangover medicine inside.
Holding the box, she stood frozen at her doorway for about thirty seconds before retreating back into her room and shutting the door.
......
An hour later.
Exactly noon.
The door to Lu Sicheng’s room opened, and the shirtless young man stepped out, yawning. His dark hair, damp and soft, clung to his forehead. Water droplets trailed down his toned abdomen before disappearing suggestively beneath the waistband of his pants...
A cat that had been missing for far too long (in Tong Yao’s opinion) slipped out from behind him, squeezing between his ankles and the doorframe to peek outside before trotting downstairs on short legs—
Standing on the second floor, the man glanced down and spotted an unidentified figure wearing a Sun Wukong mask sitting at the computer on the far right.
Curled up in the chair, she was still dressed in a white ankle-length nightgown. The fat cat approached her, meowed twice, then jumped onto her lap, kneading and stepping all over her.At this moment, the team headquarters was empty. After being kept up all night, everyone was completely exhausted and wouldn't likely wake up until the 1:30 pm meeting to choose new team uniforms.
Lu Sicheng walked downstairs to the refrigerator and opened it. Seeing it completely empty with only a trash can full of empty yogurt containers beside it, he raised an eyebrow. Closing the fridge door, he walked behind the only conscious person in the headquarters and lifted the edge of the mask on her face with one finger: "Wukong, where's master's yogurt? There were five or six containers left before bedtime last night."
"..."
The person sitting in the chair was playing Super Mario.
Mario was busy jumping to collect coins, eat mushrooms, and stomp on turtles. The person controlling Mario was equally busy, leaning back slightly to avoid Lu Sicheng's hand as the mask snapped back onto her face with a "smack."
She let out an "ow" and rubbed her stinging face.
Lu Sicheng: "What are you doing?"
Tong Yao: "Contemplating life."
Lu Sicheng: "Starting from when? The second you were born, or about fifteen hours ago when you had your first Long Island Iced Tea?"
Tong Yao: "..."
"My vote's for the latter," Lu Sicheng said flatly. "Because that alone provides enough material for some deep reflection."
Mario stopped jumping as the player turned her head—behind the Sun Wukong mask, her eyes flickered with unease. Tong Yao pushed the keyboard away and stood up on the chair, now slightly taller than Lu Sicheng as she stared at his face: "Captain, did I do a lot of crazy things yesterday?"
"Crazy?" Lu Sicheng couldn't tear his eyes away from the grinning Sun Wukong mask before him. "Which part are you referring to? Yelling on the street that you don't have boobs, just padding?"
"..."
"Mistaking my brother for my ghost?"
"......"
"Or crying snot and tears while insisting you're too strong to be a substitute, that being benched would mean losing the whole world, then suddenly breaking into 'Fireflies'—honest suggestion, if you can turn a children's song into horror movie background music, maybe just don't sing anymore."
"..............."
"Or forcing your used tissues on every teammate as a farewell gift, crying and clinging to them if they refused?"
".................."
"Or trying to groom your ugly cat by licking it? Then clamping your teeth around its ear so tight that three or four people couldn't pry you off, and trying to bite anyone who tried?" Lu Sicheng raised his right index finger, which indeed bore teeth marks and a trace of blood. "Truth be told, Wukong, master got up early to get a rabies shot."
"................................"
The person standing on the chair immediately dropped the cat in her arms and crouched back down, covering her face and trembling... Lu Sicheng gave a cold laugh before turning to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of cold water. Casually, he asked: "Did you take your medicine?"
The crouched figure lifted her head: "What medicine?"
"Hangover pills. Didn't I leave them outside your door?" Lu Sicheng set down the water pitcher. "As if your madness could be cured just by taking pills—""Stop it! Stop it! I was wrong! I was wrong! I was wrong!" The voice came muffled from behind the Sun Wukong mask. "How was I supposed to know there was alcohol in that drink! Why the hell is it called Long Island Iced Tea if it has alcohol?!"
"Because wife cakes don't contain wives; squirrel-shaped mandarin fish doesn't contain squirrels; and Leifeng Pagoda doesn't contain Lei Feng," Lu Sicheng said lazily, glancing at the person peeking out with just half their head and a pair of eyes from behind a chair not far away. "So Long Island Iced Tea isn't tea either, you bumpkin."
The half-head instantly ducked back out of sight.
Lu Sicheng downed the cold water in his cup in one gulp, walked back to his computer, turned it on, and logged into the game. As he did so, he glanced sideways at the person curled up motionless in their chair, quiet as a mouse: the gaming chair, which was a bit narrow for someone like Little Fatty, completely concealed her. She was still wearing the same house slippers she'd bought at the supermarket that day, her long white nightgown perfectly covering her ankles... Only her two strikingly pale arms were exposed outside her sleeves. Hugging her knees, one could still see the scars on her elbows, probably from childhood mischief.
Her half-dry short hair draped over her snow-white arms, slightly frizzy from air-drying, the contrast between black and white unusually stark.
Lu Sicheng: "..."
"Hey." The team captain frowned slightly and nudged the motionless figure on the chair beside him with his foot. "Still drunk? What kind of look is this, coming down in your pajamas? The sponsors are bringing Summer Split jersey samples later—you're going to meet them like this?"
The person on the chair trembled and slowly sat up, hopping off the chair and shaking out her skirt. As if suddenly remembering something, she asked, "Can I keep the mask on?"
"Why wear it?"
"Too ashamed to show my face."
"Oh, so you do know shame. That's not what you said yesterday when you were crying and begging someone to protect your snotty tissues—"
"Ahhhhhhh!" Tong Yao covered her ears with both hands. "Not listening, not listening, not listening!"
The man sitting in the chair, propping his head with one hand, smirked in a way invisible to the person behind him, though his tone betrayed little emotion. "Go change. The others will be up soon."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hem of someone's skirt swirl around as she stomped her house-slippered feet, as if stepping on flames of anger and resignation. The girl noisily turned and stormed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door shut behind her.
...
Another hour later.
Everyone was awake and gathered downstairs, each holding a bowl of the auntie's freshly cooked meat porridge... Just then, the door at the far end of the second floor cautiously creaked open, and a face wearing a Sun Wukong mask peeked out like a thief. Dressed in denim shorts and an oversized shirt, she hunched over as she stepped out—
"Finally up?"
The sudden greeting from the team manager downstairs made her freeze mid-step. She peeked down—everyone was there, including that Lu Yue... Tong Yao tiptoed into the crowd, sat down primly, and then lowered her head, playing dead.
Xiao Rui reached out and touched her mask. "What's this new gimmick, SML?"
The masked face sank even lower. Lu Sicheng spoke up for her: "Too ashamed to show her face."The masked figure lifted their head, the expressionless mask turning to glance at the man before shifting toward the green-haired, silver-haired boy sitting barefoot at her seat nearby: "Why are you still here?"
Her voice sounded muffled.
"Because you need a substitute."
The person fiddled with her computer, her mouse.
Tong Yao took a deep breath—
"I don't need one."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don't," Tong Yao stood up from her spot, "That's my seat."
"Oh? Call its name and see if it responds."
Tong Yao strode over to her seat in a few steps, reaching out to pull him away. Though younger than Lu Sicheng, the boy had inherited the Lu family's excellent genes in height—standing before him, Tong Yao looked like a tiny chick...
Now the little chick was flapping and squawking, desperately trying to shoo away a weasel from her nest.
"Get up!"
"No."
"Get up!"
"No."
"Ah! Cheng Ge! Why are you licking my cat's ears?!"
The person in the chair immediately jumped up, grabbing his phone to switch to camera mode as he twisted around to look in the direction the girl was staring at in horror—just as his eyes met his older brother's cold gaze and expressionless face quietly sipping porridge from a bowl—behind him, the girl bumped him aside and quickly plopped into her seat, hugging the backrest tightly...
The legendary cat whose ears had supposedly been licked by Lu Sicheng sauntered past gracefully, rubbing against the duped boy's feet.
"Nineteen is adulthood," Lu Sicheng said slowly, "Why do you two act like idiots?"
"She's the idiot, making up such a stupid lie over a damn chair."
"You believed it, so you're even dumber," the girl clinging to her chair retorted firmly, "Anyway, the chair's mine now. Say whatever you want."
"Both of you, quiet down." Lu Sicheng lifted his eyes to glance out the window, "The person delivering the jerseys is here."
As if on cue, the door knocked. The man stood up to answer it, casually flipping up the mask of the masked person as he passed by, placing it atop their head. The latter let out a surprised "Ah!" and released the chair backrest to cover their face—their features, hidden behind the mask all day, were slightly flushed from the heat. She shot Lu Yue a glare, who responded with a mischievous grin.
This year, the supplier provided ZGDX Team with three styles of Summer Split jerseys—one followed the Spring Split's red-and-black design, with a black base and a vibrant red China Telecom logo on the back that looked like it was painted with a brush, very trendy; another was a hideous mustard yellow that was universally despised and not worth describing; and the last was a brand-new blue-and-white version, with a blue base featuring a subtle China Telecom logo and sleeves/chest adorned in thin dark blue fonts displaying various sponsor logos...
Squatting on her chair, Tong Yao picked up the red-and-black jersey, examined it, then set it down; then picked up the blue-and-white one, looked at it, and put it back—clearly suffering from choice paralysis—The delivery guy who came to drop off the team jerseys looked at the girl squatting on the gaming chair with a half-lifted Sun Wukong mask on her head and cautiously asked, "Are you Smiling?"
Tong Yao, who had been examining the new jersey, paused and looked up, about to say "Yes," when Xiao Rui suddenly interjected, "She's the lunatic who broke into our team headquarters in the middle of the night and refuses to leave. Before you go, could you toss her into the trash bin at the end of the street?"
Tong Yao: "..."
After some hesitation, Tong Yao reluctantly put down the blue-and-white jersey and said, "I vote for the red-and-black one."
Little Fatty: "Seconded."
Xiao Rui: "The team logo is blue and white. Having red-and-black jerseys would feel a bit off—I’ve been thinking about this since the Spring Split. For the Summer Split, we should stick with blue and white. Blue and white—just looking at it screams 'S6 championship colors.'"
Old Cat: "I also think blue and white looks better."
Old K: "Summer calls for something fresh and clean."
Tong Yao: "Red and black hides stains better."
Little Fatty: "Exactly. Grown men wearing white just feels weird somehow..."
Tong Yao: "Right, right."
The mid and support duo were so in sync that Xiao Rui turned to them suspiciously, eyeing the two stubbornly clutching the red-and-black Summer Split jerseys. "What’s up with you two?"
Tong Yao and Little Fatty exchanged glances. Just then, Lu Sicheng chimed in coldly, "Because white makes you look fat."
Tong Yao: "..."
Little Fatty: "..."
In the end, the blue-and-white design was chosen—because one person who thought they were fat could just lose weight, while the other, who was hopelessly chubby, would look fat no matter what they wore.
After finalizing the Summer Split jerseys, Tong Yao’s mask returned to her face, along with a new quirk: she carried her gaming chair everywhere, even into the bathroom.
That evening, as everyone sat together for dinner, Lu Sicheng finally lost his patience watching the girl sitting cross-legged on her own chair. "How long do you plan to keep this up?" he asked.
The masked figure—who had only lifted the mask slightly to reveal her mouth for eating—paused and turned to the boy sitting beside her, who was quietly shoveling food into his mouth. "When are you leaving?" she asked.
"When I’m too old to hold a mouse," Lu Yue replied.
The masked girl turned back to her captain, peering at him through the tiny eyeholes of her mask. "When he’s too old to hold a mouse and stops eyeing my spot as a sub."
Lu Sicheng: "..."
Tong Yao: "I don’t want a sub."
Lu Yue: "Say that again when you can beat A Tai."
The Sun Wukong at the dinner table set down her chopsticks and lowered her head.
"..." Lu Sicheng tapped his bowl and shot a glare at his younger brother. "Don’t talk during meals. If you’re not eating, get lost."
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