Tong Yao went to find Ai Jia and the others, and Lu Sicheng didn't pay much attention to it. After reminding her to return to ZGDX's own lounge later to review tactics, he turned and left.
However, when the third match between YQCB and HUAWEI Team started and ten minutes had passed, the team waited left and right but still couldn't find Tong Yao. The audience seats were empty, not a soul in sight, so Lu Sicheng had no choice but to personally go looking for her—
In the end, he found his Mid Laner at the entrance of YQCB's lounge, looking dazed and visibly unwell.
"What are you doing here?" Lu Sicheng stepped forward and pulled her up.
"For YQCB's third do-or-die match, Ai Jia didn't even play—they sent in a substitute." Tong Yao swayed as she stood up, her gaze probably meeting Lu Sicheng's, but her eyes couldn't focus.
"I saw."
"..."
Tong Yao was the type to be once bitten, twice shy. Seeing the substitution in the third match, her heart immediately sank, and she stubbornly refused to leave YQCB's door—now, seeing Lu Sicheng's calm expression, her eyes lit up as if she had found a lifeline. She grabbed his hand tightly: "Ai Jia didn't do anything wrong, he just spoke a little louder—he won't be punished, right? No Suspension? Jin Yang didn't do anything either. She never takes any losses normally, but today, for Ai Jia's sake, she swallowed all her grievances—isn't that enough? They're just simply in love, why does there have to be so many reasons, so many schemes—no one cares if the person they like is some shining star player or celebrity, it's just simple affection..."
Her words were incoherent.
She stumbled several times in between.
Lu Sicheng listened patiently for a while, but seeing the person in front of him grow increasingly disheveled and pale, he could only sigh helplessly in the end and raise his hand to cover her mouth—
He felt her slight trembling.
When his warm, dry palm pressed against her cold face, Tong Yao's rambling abruptly stopped...
In the empty hallway, not far away, the sound of the commentators analyzing the game seeped through the poorly soundproofed door from the match venue... The girl leaned against the wall as if it were her only support. She blinked lightly, raised both hands, and silently grasped the man's palm pressed against her lips.
After locking eyes with those calm, deep brown irises for a few seconds, she lowered her gaze, pulled his hand away, and asked in a low, emotionless voice, "Pro players are human too. They have people they like, and they want to be with them—what's wrong with that?"
"..."
"Or," Tong Yao whispered, "is the very thought itself wrong?""'Because we're public figures, not a single part of our bodies belongs to ourselves. Our purpose is to win matches, please fans, serve the team, and do all these things at any cost'—is that the kind of thinking you mean? Of course, some people might think that way, but if even the players themselves believe it, then that's terrible..." Lu Sicheng's voice sounded unhurried as he spoke these unusually long sentences for him. "In my view, winning or losing matches is important, but compared to how satisfied the fans are with the results, we players are the ones who face the outcome more directly. Selfishly speaking, this is our own business—thank you very much for your love and support, but whether we win or lose really has nothing to do with you—that's the realistic way to think—"
"Cheng Ge."
"What?"
"Can I hug you?"
"..."
When the person leaning against the wall looked up and said this, the man's previously calm voice suddenly cut off. At the same time, without waiting for his answer, she had already opened her arms and buried herself in his embrace—in the empty corridor, her cheek pressed against his chest, her arms overlapping and tightening around his waist beneath his jacket...
"Never mind, never mind," she mumbled into his embrace, her voice muffled. "Let me hug you first."
"..." Lu Sicheng lowered his head, looking at the ostrich-like face pressed against his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching. "...What's with this 'the world is ending' tone?"
"Thinking that such great abs and pecs might not belong to me tomorrow," Tong Yao rubbed her face against him, "is comparable to the world ending."
"..."
Lu Sicheng fell silent.
After a long while, as the commentators outside began live-streaming a team fight and lamenting something like "Ah, if it were Ai Jia, he definitely wouldn't have made this mistake," he reached out and wrapped his arms around the person clinging to him—
A very close embrace.
He could clearly feel that her unease had become more pronounced and definite than ever before today.
And what infuriated him was that, faced with her unease, he felt at a loss for the first time—
Not knowing what to do.
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