Chapter 181

Professional players’ days are monotonous, and for someone as disciplined as Mo Yin, life becomes even more regimented.

Exercise, gaming, practice matches, exercise, gaming.

Every moment is meticulously planned and fixed.

With the practice matches over and command handed over to the jungle support for the day, Mo Yin felt considerably relieved. After finishing the post-game analysis, all that remained was free time.

Mo Yin stood up from his seat.

“MY,” Tang Qi also stood up eagerly, “Are you going out for a run?”

“Mm.”

“Can I join you?”

Having been in DSG for half a year, Tang Qi still had the enthusiasm of a newcomer. “I’d like to get some exercise too and maybe learn a few things about the game from you.”

The campus remained as quiet as ever, with many buildings still brightly lit. Mo Yin led Tang Qi around the lake at the center of the campus for their run.

Tang Qi, not particularly fit, could initially talk while running, but after two hundred meters, he started panting heavily. Talking became difficult, let alone running. Mo Yin didn’t cut him any slack, maintaining a steady pace that made it challenging for Tang Qi to keep up.

After completing two laps, Tang Qi surrendered. He slowed to a walk and then sat down on a bench by the lake, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. Mo Yin finished most of another lap before returning to him.

Tang Qi was still catching his breath, embarrassed and flushed. “Sorry, I’m not in great shape. You go on, don’t mind me. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

“Running intermittently isn’t as effective as sustained jogging.”

Tang Qi nodded, though he thought to himself that he couldn’t keep up anymore.

Under Mo Yin’s watchful eye, Tang Qi reluctantly stood up and struggled through another two laps before completely giving in, collapsing on the bench by the lake, motionless.

The corners of the lake were dimly lit by street lamps, casting faint shadows. Tang Qi lay there, watching Mo Yin seemingly effortlessly continue running past him, resembling more a sportsman than an esports player.

Struggling to stand, Tang Qi continued, completely modeling himself after Mo Yin.

Intermittently, he ran for about thirty minutes before losing his determination. He wondered how much longer Mo Yin planned to run. Doesn’t Mo Yin usually finish in just half an hour?

“MY… How much longer are you…” Tang Qi swallowed, his throat sore and unable to keep up anymore, “going to run?”

Mo Yin stopped, jogging in place. He too was sweating profusely, his light grey T-shirt soaked through at the back. “Not sure.”

Tang Qi: “…” Help! Where does the limit of an esports AI player lie?!

“You can head back if you’re tired.”

Ashamed, Tang Qi nodded. “Okay, I’ll head back first. Take your time.”

Following his idol, exhausted to the point of collapse, Tang Qi dragged his numb legs towards the exit.

Mo Yin slowly stopped, sitting down on a bench by the lake.

Sweat trickled down his cheeks as he lifted his head, looking at the exercise data recorded on his sports watch. Suddenly, his cheek felt cold.

Mo Yin turned his head, and the water bottle pressed against his cheek was withdrawn by a smiling Ye Chi.

“I saw Tang Qi outside earlier,” Ye Chi unscrewed the water bottle and handed it to Mo Yin, “so I waited for a while.”

Mo Yin took the water, drank most of it in one gulp, and remained silent. He held the mineral water bottle cap with his fingers, gently shaking the bottle.

Ye Chi leaned down, screwing the cap back on the bottle.

The central artificial lake of the campus was surrounded by tall trees, and apart from two street lamps, there was no other light source. It was pitch dark. Mo Yin liked to run here, despite the team leader’s concerns about safety—especially on dark, windy nights when few people were around. If someone fell into the lake, there would be no one to rescue them. The team leader’s objections were futile because Mo Yin appreciated the solitude of the place.

In this secluded corner, shadows danced under the moonlight, merging into the darkness.

Mo Yin’s expression always carried a reluctant refusal, as if he was unwilling. When Ye Chi kissed him, the first attempt was always difficult to reach his lips. He had to sneak up, first kissing his cheek. Mo Yin would frown, showing signs of impatience. Ye Chi kissed his cheek, then slowly moved down until he reached his target.

When they truly began kissing, it was intense without being overly aggressive.

The breath in their noses, and the sound of their mouths kissing, was particularly clear among the chirping of crickets.

The body moved closer with emotions, undulating, friction…

Ye Chi suddenly covered his hand.

Mo Yin hummed lightly, his brows furrowing tighter, the struggle between their lips and tongues growing fiercer.

That day in the internet café’s private room, Mo Yin was like this too, seeming very displeased, very dissatisfied with Ye Chi’s actions. But when Ye Chi lowered his head again, he didn’t refuse a single word, even pressing his palm against the back of Ye Chi’s head.

He began to match Ye Chi’s rhythm.

His body grew softer and softer.

The deliberately suppressed sounds escaped from his rolling throat.

Later, he lay down on that small sofa, his long legs restless, draped over the edge of the sofa armrest without restraint, parted by Ye Chi’s powerful lips, moistened all over.

After it was over, Mo Yin wiped himself with tissues, expressionless as he put on his pants. Just as he pulled them up to his waist, Ye Chi hugged him from behind.

Ye Chi hugged him tightly, rubbing against him slowly.

All night long, Ye Chi himself didn’t taste any sweetness, always “serving” Mo Yin.

“Training tomorrow.”

Ye Chi spoke, bringing up a serious topic, yet couldn’t help but kiss Mo Yin’s neck. Mo Yin turned his face, and Ye Chi kissed slowly up from his neck to the faint red behind his ear. “Let’s not blame the past, let today and everything before today be as if it never happened.”

Mo Yin remained silent. Ye Chi kissed down from behind his ear to his nape, each kiss unusually heavy and moist.

Then, their strange relationship began.

That day, after the training match ended, Mo Yin was about to go for a run when a message arrived on his phone.

Ye Chi took the initiative to come to DSG’s base area, intercepting Mo Yin at the track where the team leader said “no one would find them even if they fell into the lake.”

Mo Yin acted as if he hadn’t seen him and continued running.

Ye Chi followed him silently. They ran side by side until Mo Yin was sweating profusely, his steps gradually slowing down, and Ye Chi suddenly hugged him.

Mo Yin resisted and pushed him away.

Ye Chi kissed him, kissing him up to his eyelashes.

They didn’t know how long they chased each other, lips and tongues entangled again.

“Will anyone come?”

Ye Chi whispered softly, “Should we find another place? I have a car.”

Mo Yin’s elbow pressed against his chest, his nose shining, he lowered his head, appearing contemplative. His cold and indifferent look made Ye Chi’s heart race.

“No one will come.”

Mo Yin said calmly.

His calm answer instantly ignited Ye Chi’s entire body.

What exactly were they now?

Ye Chi observed Mo Yin’s expression.

At such times, Mo Yin’s cold and proud face would only show a hint of annoyed blush, tilting his head slightly, revealing the rapidly rolling Adam’s apple as if he couldn’t bear this new experience Ye Chi brought him.

Ye Chi knew he had found a loophole.

For someone whom others dared not approach, who would be satisfied with just a glance from afar, he had invaded Mo Yin’s personal space step by step with his shamelessness.

From being gaming buddies to adding each other on WeChat, to voice chatting together and going to the internet café.

Although he seemed completely straightforward, his mind had long instinctively planned it all out, hadn’t it?

He was truly despicable, stealthily taking the most brilliant jewel from the crown and secretly defiling it in the dark.

When it was time to leave, Mo Yin didn’t say a word, naturally lifted his leg to leave, but Ye Chi didn’t let him go, his palm grabbing Mo Yin’s slim waist, forcefully kissing him as if he wanted to swallow Mo Yin whole.

Running, intimacy, and the natural heat of summer combined, Mo Yin was covered in sweat. The touch of his muscles was smooth and elastic, and Ye Chi’s palm slipped under his T-shirt. Mo Yin grabbed Ye Chi’s hand through his T-shirt, and Ye Chi’s palm stayed there, alternating between kneading and squeezing, feeling the wonderful touch of Mo Yin’s muscles.

That place on Mo Yin was very sensitive. He gripped Ye Chi’s wrist tighter, but his body leaned closer to Ye Chi.

Ye Chi felt him soften and kissed even deeper.

The “date” always passed quickly. Ye Chi withdrew his palm, straightening Mo Yin’s shirt hem. “Go back and solo queue.”

Mo Yin said nothing, turned around, and walked away.

Ye Chi stood there for a moment before suddenly speeding up and running out.

Mo Yin walked to a large osmanthus tree outside the lake and stopped. Ye Chi stood not too far behind him, watching silently.

Mo Yin’s expression seemed troubled, unaware that Ye Chi had also come out. He raised his hand, pulled his T-shirt down, and awkwardly pressed his left chest.

Ye Chi’s head buzzed, his face suddenly burning hot.

Clearly, it was his own doing, so why did he now feel a surreal sense of unreality, making his blood boil even more?

“Go back and solo queue.”

He disconnected the voice chat.

In the game, they continued back and forth, showing no mercy.

“Next game, I’ll use Fox.”

“Alright, I’ll use Akali.”

It seemed no different from before.

After the last training match ended, Ye Chi asked, “Are you going to rest?”

Mo Yin didn’t answer. Ye Chi was someone who could fill in the gaps even without a response. As long as Mo Yin didn’t refuse, he could digest everything himself.

Because for Ye Chi, someone with Mo Yin’s personality, this was already a form of intense indulgence, even bordering on seduction.

He forced people to go crazy with an aloof and proud attitude.

“After the shoot tomorrow, do you want to go out together?”

Ye Chi whispered.

His question echoed almost audibly in the quiet dormitory, filled with tension. He didn’t know why, even though they were so intimate, both of them were still so cautious.

“I don’t know.”

Mo Yin ended the voice chat.

Ye Chi looked at the notification that the voice chat had ended, froze for two seconds, and a faintly helpless smile appeared on his face. At least it wasn’t a rejection.

In the summer tournament, DSG and REAL had been performing exceptionally well, and there had been an update since then. DSG had finally adapted to the new version after some difficulty, only to find that the new version weakened them again. However, having experienced the previous setback, DSG adapted to the new version much faster, quickly adjusting their form. As a dark horse team in the new season, REAL fully demonstrated their potential during the summer tournament, attracting considerable attention to several of their players.

The two undefeated teams were finally about to meet.

Compared to the spring tournament, this match garnered even more attention and hype.

A week before, the league called both teams to shoot promotional videos.

Unlike their annoyance at being overshadowed in the spring tournament, the DSG players took REAL very seriously this time, but they dared not show it at the base.

After the incident at the internet café last time, the relationship between the two teams had become somewhat tense, mainly because the two mid-laners seemed to have completely severed their private contact because of it.

As they rode to the filming location, members of both teams met in the dressing room.

REAL had arrived first and were already getting their makeup done.

Chen Dong gestured to Tang Qi, who nodded subtly. He still felt a little guilty because he was mainly to blame for the last incident.

Ye Chi sat alone on the sofa, looking at his phone.

The staff smiled at the DSG players. “Come over and get your makeup done.”

Mo Yin sat on another single sofa.

The staff knew he wasn’t used to wearing makeup, so they didn’t say anything.

The players sat in rows to get their makeup done, watching each other in the mirror.

Both mid-laners were still looking down at their phones.

The atmosphere was tense.

Players exchanged glances but said nothing.

After a moment, Mo Yin put away his phone and walked out. Shortly after, Ye Chi left too.

Chen Dong, who had been watching them closely, suddenly became alert.

They weren’t going to fight again, were they???

In the corridor, Mo Yin leaned against the window with his hands crossed, looking outside. Someone approached behind him.

The weather was nice today, with a breathtakingly blue sky outside.

Neither said a word, maintaining a distance not too close nor too far.

After a moment, Mo Yin took out his vibrating phone from his pocket.

— [Ye Chi: Is your chest still hurting?]