Falling into Your Smile

The second game saw CK Team claw back a point, and smiles returned to their faces. Having heard rumors of fresh gossip before the match, they swarmed backstage as soon as it ended, eagerly pulling out their phones—

The moment Jian Yang stepped into the break room, he heard their top laner Haoyun Lai roaring at his phone: "Holy shit!!!!! What the hell does ZGDX Team’s Smiling mean?! No way!!!! Did they really sign a girl to play professionally?!!!"

Jian Yang paused mid-step, then quickly strode over, snatching the phone from Haoyun Lai’s hands. A glance at the Weibo push notification on the screen made his expression darken instantly—

Haoyun Lai: "The fuck?"

Jian Yang: "It’s her."

Haoyun Lai: "?"

Jian Yang: "The grandmaster of jumping gods."

Haoyun Lai: "Holy shit!"

Haoyun Lai: "Your ex?! Smiling?! The Server’s best LeBlanc?! Warning: Thai boxing ahead! Say that again, I dare you!"

By now, everyone in the break room—CK Team’s other players and staff alike—had turned to stare at Jian Yang. He tossed the phone back to Haoyun Lai, his voice low. "I was the one who taught her League of Legends. That summer before I went pro, she started playing and immediately took the mid lane..."

Haoyun Lai: "You let her?"

Jian Yang grunted in affirmation. "She took mid, so I jungled to gank for her."

Haoyun Lai: "Mid-jungle synergy?"

Jian Yang: "Mhm... Later, I went pro, she was in her last year of high school. I was busy, we fought over some trivial shit, broke up. After her exams, she went abroad."

CK Team: "..."

CK Team’s manager: "...Look on the bright side."

Jian Yang: "..."

"...Impressive," CK Team’s ADC Hu Die gave Jian Yang a thumbs-up, admiration in his voice. "Raised a spy for the enemy from scratch, trained her into the Server’s best LeBlanc, then dumped her—forcing a massive hate buff before she joins our rival team."

Support player Lao Wang crossed his legs, grinning as he joined in the schadenfreude. "Yang Shen, oh Yang Shen... Truly a legend."

Haoyun Lai started slapping his thigh. "Yang Shen, what did our team ever do to you..."

"An official announcement means the contract’s signed. No taking it back now." CK’s manager patted Jian Yang’s shoulder. "Don’t dwell on it, focus on the remaining matches... Seriously, stay positive."

Jian Yang: "..."

But the manager’s advice proved useless.

Jian Yang couldn’t stay positive at all.

Tong Yao joining ZGDX Team affected him more than it did ZGDX’s own players—that gut-wrenching feeling of nurturing a prize cabbage only for someone else’s pig to root it up lingered stubbornly in his chest... The consequence? Once the third match began, CK’s fans realized their great Yang Shen had regressed right back to his disastrous first-game form—

In other words, "either dead or on his way to die."

This led to CK Team getting steamrolled by ZGDX in the third match, their performance so abysmal it looked like a throw—After this match, no one dared to ask Jian Yang what was going on with him again. Because the first thing he did after the third game was apologize to his teammates, then immediately ask Haoyun Lai to borrow his phone.

Haoyun Lai: "What for?"

Jian Yang: "To call her."

Haoyun Lai reflexively asked: "Where's your own phone? Out of battery?"

Jian Yang pressed his lips together: "Blocked."

The moment those words left his mouth, he immediately felt sympathetic gazes from all directions. Haoyun Lai obediently handed over his phone while advising: "Sort it out properly, keep your cool—if we lose the next game we're going home. This year's MSI (*Mid-Season Invitational, an important international tournament where the spring season champions from each region represent their region) is being held in Shanghai. Baby doesn't want to miss it."

Jian Yang took the phone, muttered "got it," and walked out...

He wasn't planning to make the call in the lounge where everyone could gawk at him like a circus act, so he ducked into the players-only restroom. Except for the last stall being occupied, the place was empty. Assuming that stall was under maintenance, Jian Yang paid it no mind. After closing the door behind him, he dialed a number he knew by heart—

The call connected after two rings.

Jian Yang said "hello" twice. The other end didn't hang up upon hearing his voice but fell silent instead, allowing Jian Yang to clearly hear the noisy background—the two casters still discussing the previous match...

This instantly made Jian Yang feel even worse.

"Hello? Tong Yao? I saw China Telecom Team's official Weibo announcement. How did you actually end up going pro? And with China Telecom Team? You were so against going pro before, yet here you are..."

After a pause, the background noise quieted down—Tong Yao had probably stepped outside the venue... She seemed to have finally found a quiet corner and said something brief. Jian Yang paused upon hearing it, then spun around irritably in place—

"I'm not trying to control you, how would I dare? I'm just wondering why you didn't tell me if you wanted to go pro—why tell you? Wouldn't joining my team be better than going to some telecom team? Yes, fine, we already have a starting Mid Laner, and you don't want to warm the Bench, but I'm here—what the hell! Tong Yao, say that again! What do you mean 'who are you'?!"

Jian Yang's voice rose, so furious he could practically taste blood—

"I taught you how to play this game! I installed the client on your computer! And I had to find out you're going pro through fucking Weibo!.................. What do you mean you 'did tell me' before posting? Was there even a ten-second gap?! Goddammit, Tong Yao! Are you trying to fucking kill me?!"

After his outburst, silence fell on the other end. Then, crystal clear, he heard Tong Yao calmly say: [So you got so worked up about this that you inted the entire match?]

"What's wrong with that?"

To stop himself from smashing the phone, Jian Yang put it on speaker and tossed it onto the sink counter. Leaning forward with both hands on the edge, he stared at his own reflection in the mirror, lips curling into a mocking smile—

"Consider it a spring season championship gift for your future team."

Another pause on the other end.【This is Ming Shen's retirement match, don't you dare embarrass him with your god-awful plays. He's your senior after all, show some respect.】

A cold female voice rang out clearly in the quiet restroom—

【Who needs your charity championship? We have the skills to win it ourselves.】

Jian Yang: "..."

We.

We?!

Staring at the phone placed on the sink counter, Jian Yang's eyes nearly popped out of his head, his mind completely consumed by the words "we," "we," "we"—

We my ass!!!!

Are you that close with them?!!!!

Are you?!?!?!?!

He opened his mouth but no words came out, afraid that the herd of "f*cking hells" galloping through his mind would leap straight out of his mouth. A flood of curses scrolled through his brain like live comments. In the suffocating silence, he heard the other side say calmly: 【If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up. What does me going pro have to do with you? Jumping around like a monkey, isn't this just ridiculous? Focus on your own matches.】

Jian Yang said nothing.

Then the call ended without hesitation.

Amidst the dial tone, there was only a furious Jian Yang, his idol image shattered, now just wanting to roll around on the floor in frustration. He kicked the restroom wall wildly to vent, looking like a crazed Tuzki—

"F ck f ck f*ck!"

Just then, he heard the sound of a lock clicking open from the stall at the very end.

Jian Yang froze mid-action. Stiffly turning his head, he briefly considered whether it'd be better to silence whoever stepped out—no matter who it was—permanently. Then, he saw a tall figure emerge from the stall at a leisurely pace—

The young man lowered his gaze, his expression lazy, clad in the red-and-black team jersey with the "ZGDX" logo and a small China Telecom emblem. As he walked out, a nearly burnt-out cigarette dangled between his fingers. Passing an open stall door, he casually flicked the butt into the toilet before heading to the sink.

A faint scent of tobacco drifted into Jian Yang's nose.

Jian Yang: "..."

The man pressed the sanitizer dispenser, meticulously scrubbing his long, clean hands before placing them under the sensor faucet—

The sound of running water filled the air.

Jian Yang: "……………………Cheng Ge?"

Lu Sicheng lifted his eyelids slightly, as if only now noticing there was someone else in the restroom, and turned his head a fraction. "Hm?"

Jian Yang: "…………………………You were here."

"Mn." Lu Sicheng responded. "Sneaked out for a smoke. Otherwise, Xiao Rui would nag again."

ZGDX had a strict no-smoking policy—first offense fined 1,000 yuan. For repeat offenders like Lu Sicheng, the fine was 3,000 yuan per violation.

Jian Yang: "………………………………Oh."

Now it wasn’t about whether Jian Yang needed to silence someone—he felt like shoving his own head into the toilet for a quick suicide might be the better option.

Meanwhile, Lu Sicheng finished washing his hands, dried them with a paper towel, and—under Jian Yang’s intense stare—lifted them to his nose for a sniff, satisfied when no trace of smoke remained. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he casually remarked, "You know our new Mid Laner?"

"..."What was bound to happen, happened.

Jian Yang stood frozen, staring at the man reflected in the mirror before him, and slowly nodded. "You heard everything?"

"With the speakerphone that loud, it'd be hard not to." Lu Sicheng curled his lips in a half-mocking smile.

"..." Jian Yang forced a strained smile. "Sorry about that. What exactly did you hear?"

Lu Sicheng fell silent, as if seriously considering the question before drawling, "Something about your gameplay being so bad it disgraces Ming Shen, and the like."

"..."

"Quite interesting."

"Huh?"

"Her."

"..."

With that, the man turned and left.

Leaving Jian Yang standing dumbfounded—

Watching Lu Sicheng's tall, straight-backed figure retreat, he suddenly felt an inexplicable yet unprecedented sense of crisis.