Archive of Our Own

[Week 1 of ZXJ’s Help System, Monday, Zhang Jiale] 

Zhang Xinjie writes a new schedule every week, especially on the ones where Tyranny has away matches. Sometimes this tyrannical nature extends to the other members of the team as well; each day of particularly hectic weeks is well accounted for by their meticulous vice-captain. Either way, the schedule pasted outside his office is always a reliable indicator of his plans for the stated week. 

When Zhang Jiale had first come to Tyranny, he had taken a while to get used to this. He’d often look for Xinjie fruitlessly, only to remember that his ever-reliable junior was exactly where the schedule said he would be. Then, he’d forget the weekly changes, looking for him in last Wednesday’s noon location and not this week’s, mixing up when Xinjie was doing Yoga or when he was lifting his dumbbells or when he was (and this makes Zhang Jiale excessively fond) daydreaming . Eventually, he had acclimated to the structure— now, it is actually kind of fun, reading through the new schedule at the start of every week like a newspaper that reported on the future. 

It brings him a small joy to see what Xinjie has in store, the little changes he implements every week that confirm the doubtless passing of time. He remembers how happy he got, one particular week, just to see that the slightly stressed Xinjie had added “eating snacks to cheer up” to his schedule. Since then, he’s taken to reading the schedule like a forecast of Xinjie’s mood and plans for the week. 

This week, when Zhang Jiale heads down the familiar Tyranny corridor with Lin Jingyan, there is a small crowd outside the vice-captain’s office door. He hears them all whispering curiously to each other while peering at the schedule. Standing on tip-toes, he peeks over them to find the source. 

On the door, there is this week’s schedule, as expected. What is unexpected is the additional sheet pasted underneath it. Zhang Jiale can’t see the details from this distance, and feels no shame abusing his authority as a senior to disperse the crowd. He doesn’t even bother to pretend he has a noble cause, simply flapping his arms and shooing them away, even borrowing Lin Jingyan’s added clout to make it all the more efficient. They scamper away quickly, and Zhang Jiale leaves himself a mental note to reward them for their deference later.

After clearing the obstacles, the two of them step closer to the door and squint at the extra sheet of paper. There’s a table printed on it, the tops of the two columns titled while the rest of the cells are empty.

Confused, he glances at the new weekly schedule pasted just above:

What he sees shoots a burst of laughter through him. His adorable vice-captain had actually set aside a dedicated time slot for helping people . And he had left a sign-up sheet below. The unpredictability of Xinjie’s mostly predictable behaviour leaves a happy taste in Zhang Jiale’s mouth. He doesn’t really anticipate many sign-ups, but considers it overwhelmingly sincere of Zhang Xinjie to implement this new part of his schedule. It’s excessively cute. He takes in the rest of the schedule (no other surprises), and wonders aloud if this new slot is just for this week or if it was here to stay. 

Lin Jingyan ponders this for a moment, and shrugs in response. He has a smile teasing at his lips too— both of them share a particular fondness for this junior of theirs— as he takes in the rest of the schedule. 

Zhang Jiale stares at the sign-up sheet that is offering precious time, forever curious about the reasons behind his junior’s strange actions.

- 

Although he already predicts that Zhang Xinjie’s reason for this new time slot will be charming, he is still thrown off by how serious and sincere his vice-captain is when he gets the answer. 

“A few weeks ago, Xiao Song needed my time but was too shy to ask. This way, I’m the one who has to put himself out there, and problems don’t persist for too long without notice.” 

So Zhang Xinjie has already considered the possibility that there isn’t an urgent team-wide need for his new system. It’s just that, being the careful and meticulous man he is, he is willing to sacrifice his own pride and two hours every week to ensure that if there is a time when someone needs him, he would be available. Zhang Jiale hears this and swoons; his vice-captain truly is a healer both on and off the field. 

After this, even as the sign-up sheet remains sheepishly empty, Zhang Jiale is already convinced that this is the best idea Zhang Xinjie has ever had.

-

A few days later, Zhang Jiale is surprised to see that somebody has actually put down their name.

Lin Jingyan.

The date listed beside it is for the next day. 

That conniving bastard! 

He does not know how to feel about this development. 

He knows for a fact that both he and Lin Jingyan are quietly enamoured with their captain and vice-captain, in a way that seems to cross the border on what is considered platonic. But he’s pretty sure too that Lin Jingyan would not abuse Zhang Xinjie’s helpful tendencies for romantic endeavours. He supposes he should give his teammate the benefit of doubt that he actually needs help, and pouts back at the sheet one more time before deciding to put it out of his mind. 

-

When tomorrow comes, he still cannot put it out of his mind. 

It’s hard enough to ignore Lin Jingyan glancing at the clock every few hours as though 9.00 p.m. would arrive without his notice. What’s harder is avoiding checking the time himself, trying to remember that whatever is happening during the help-slot is none of his business. Still, he sneaks a peek every once in a while, feeling the hour creeping up on them. 

“So there’s clearly a problem regarding cooperation between you two in that mo—” 

When Han Wenqing stops abruptly in the middle of his sentence, everyone tenses up. Zhang Jiale looks up from his note-taking document to see him frown and cross his arms over his chest. The team members begin to trace his eyeline, sighing in relief as it passes by and past their heads. Zhang Jiale follow his gaze too, and sees—

“Lin Jingyan.”

Lin Jingyan hurriedly turns away from the clock and looks back at the captain, coughing guiltily. Everybody holds back laughter, watching the rare scene of one of the most senior members getting reprimanded. He waves his hand sheepishly in apology around the room, before nodding for Han Wenqing to continue. Zhang Jiale elbows him sneakily, wiggling his brows in the most annoying way he can manage, and is vindicated when he sees him flush with embarrassment again. Way to embarrass yourself in front of his crush, Lin Jingyan!

The practice ends two minutes before 9.00 p.m., a fact he is kind of ashamed to be aware of, having just seen Lin Jingyan get into trouble for paying too much attention to the time and not to the practice. While everyone leaves, he gathers his things as slowly as possible while keeping an eye on Lin Jingyan and Zhang Xinjie. 

He sees Zhang Xinjie packing swiftly over at his own station, his careful fingers brushing over each device, as though processing it, before putting it into his bag. When he finishes packing up, he scans the room once, acknowledging Zhang Jiale’s presence with a nod before looking over at Lin Jingyan. Their other teammate is already waiting at the door, that eager bastard, and grants Zhang Xinjie one of his gentle smiles as he approaches. It earns him a smile back, sending an envious jolt through the heart of the man now unabashedly staring at them.

After both nodding in his direction, they head out together, and Zhang Jiale can hear their voices fading down the hallway. Only after they are gone, he comes back to his senses. He shakes himself out of his haze and finally tears his eyes away from where they had been. 

Not so far away, a door closes. Whatever happens in the room next is none of Zhang Jiale’s business. 

-

[Week 1 of ZXJ’s Help System, Friday, Zhang Jiale]

Is it too shameless to ask Lao Lin what happened last night?

Zhang Jiale battles with this dilemma all through the next morning; it is not a considerable improvement over having confusing dreams starring those two all night. (They were strange, to say the least, and he wishes he could remember their contexts because he wants to know in what circumstances Zhang Xinjie would have made him a schedule for breathing. Should he ask ? Maybe Lin Jingyan would bring it up on his own. After all, the two of them are arguably the closest to each other, having transferred to Tyranny during the same window, and debuted in the same season. 

He’ll probably tell him. Yes, they’re besties! He will definitely hear about the meeting without prompting. 

With this confidence, he clamps down his eagerness to start shooting off at the mouth and instead maintains a facsimile of calm and restraint all throughout breakfast. Not everyone else has this level of self-control. Sitting beside Lin Jingyan at the canteen, he can practically feel all eyes drifting in their direction and boring through him towards his friend. Internally, he pats himself on the back for being that much more dignified than all his teammates. 

He’s amazing! The image of control and self-possession. High on his own self-praise, he magnanimously picks up a spoonful of his own cereal and spoon feeds it to Lin Jingyan. His eyes narrow suspiciously towards him, but Zhang Jiale retains his air of grace, even throwing in a wink to emphasise just how easy-going he’s being right now.

Being so perfect and unaffected begins to get harder after breakfast, when Zhang Xinjie is no longer bogged down by his personal rule to focus solely on eating during meals. Now that his hands and attention are free, he starts sending coy smiles their way, clearly aimed at Lin Jingyan. The latter, to his benefit, at least does not begin to choke too loudly or uncontrollably. Zhang Jiale still has to give him several smacks on the back to rescue him though, which at least helps him repress his curious urges a bit longer. 

To Zhang Jiale’s extreme chagrin, Lin Jingyan begins to dish out these secretive smiles too, the moment he recovers from the shock. His smiles are different, more sheepish and bashful, but there is undoubtedly a silent exchange happening between the two of them that Zhang Jiale cannot peer into. 

It’s ridiculously bothersome, and only gets more so over the course of the day. He sees them making extended eye contact during training, nodding to each other before lunch. And when they pass by the gym as their vice-captain does his regular exercise, that man has the nerve to smile up at them as he does his cool-down stretches, glowing from his workout and pink in a way that he shouldn’t be allowed to be outside of the bedroom (God, Han Wenqing is a lucky man). By this time, Lin Jingyan is only turning a very gentle shade of scarlet at these interactions, and it’s eating Zhang Jiale alive. 

This man is supposed to be his comrade in casually chasing Zhang Xinjie’s affections, like peasants who could only dream of luxuries and enjoy little samples from time to time. Suddenly, Lin Jingyan is bathing in unlimited gold while Zhang Jiale can only watch from a peephole. Betrayal! In his mind, he is jumping up and down and kicking his arms and feet like a cartoon character, but in real life, he laughs it off and drags his friend away with great force. 

-

[Same day, Lin Jingyan]

Everyone in Tyranny is looking at him today.

After his name had quietly appeared on Zhang Xinjie’s sign-up sheet, Lin Jingyan had already begun feeling like a minor celebrity. Now that the help time has come and gone, the number of eyes on him has doubled. He doesn’t blame them. They all want to know the results of Zhang Xinjie’s much-discussed new time slot; he’d want to know too if he were them. Thankfully, everybody seems to have a tacit agreement to keep their curiosities at least verbally hidden, limiting their reactions to long glances only. 

Surprisingly, the staring is the least of his problems now. There are two other pressing matters begging his urgent attention. 

Firstly, after their enlightening talk last night where he spilled his thoughts about his crush on Zhang Jiale to an amused Zhang Xinjie, his junior has not stopped sending him knowing looks and encouraging smiles. Not only is it embarrassing to have his vice-captain acting like a giggling friend from his high school days, it is also hard to deal with these many instances of rapt attention from someone he also possibly has another crush on. 

The second problem is…

He sees a familiar shadow looming over him again, one that has not left his side for all of today. 

The second problem is Zhang Jiale. 

Zhang Jiale has been clinging to him all day, brushing shoulders with him and spending breaks with him. It’s already enough that he has to spend practice sitting beside him on regular days, but his rendezvous with their vice-captain last night seems to have magnetised Zhang Jiale and glued him to his side. The worst part is that despite the single-minded dangling by his side that he’s been doing all day, Lin Jingyan is almost certain that his friend does not realise he’s acting unusual. 

He’s sure that Zhang Jiale has no idea what he’s doing to him. And at the crux of it all, that really is where the real problem lies: Zhang Jiale just being his natural charismatic self and Lin Jingyan’s poor heart not being able to take it. 

Lin Jingyan looks over at Zhang Jiale, pretty and kissed by the afternoon sun that is streaming in through the windows. This is the whole reason Lin Jingyan had needed Zhang Xinjie’s help in the first place, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to need another session. (Besides, having alone time with his cute junior is also not a bad bargain.) 

He resolves to go put his name down again the next moment he can escape Zhang Jiale’s clutches. 

-

[Same day, Zhang Jiale]

By the end of the day, Lin Jingyan’s name has mysteriously appeared on that sign-up sheet again. Zhang Jiale has no idea how. He’s certain he’s been with Lin Jingyan for the whole day, but apparently at some point he had slipped away to betray him once more. 

And he still hasn’t told him what they did during that mysterious hour. 

As per his track record of excellent decision making, Zhang Jiale decides to double down on his efforts to tail Lin Jingyan, which he didn’t even realise he had been doing until now. And maybe if he spent more time with his friend, he’d have a higher chance of squeezing the much-wanted information out of him. Perfect idea! 

With all this in mind, he dashes to Lin Jingyan’s dormitory room and all but breaks in. Practically shirtless inside, the poor guy squeaks and flops onto the bed throwing his arms over his chest. Zhang Jiale has no mercy for him. He pounces onto the bed as well, determined to get some results at last. 

He doesn’t land so gracefully, but Lin Jingyan doesn’t seem to notice. He rights himself immediately, resting on his elbow and leaning on his side in a show of affability and seduction. Sweet smile at the ready, he begins his efforts. 

“Lao Lin…” He starts in a low voice, “Have I ever let you know how much you mean to me?” He drags out the ‘e’ at the end, to hammer in the point. 

No results so far; Lin Jingyan is looking at him like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Zhang Jiale’s heartbeat stammers just a little bit for unknown reasons at the steady gaze. He doubles down and continues interrogating the other man. 

“I think we’ve gotten really close since we moved here! You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

He’s sure he cannot possibly drive the point home any more clearly, but Lin Jingyan is tougher than he expected. His expression remains confused, and his lips refuse to part with the knowledge Zhang Jiale desperately longs for. His curiosity of the helping hour and the sign-up sheet and the knowing looks between his teammates is only building up the longer he is kept from it. 

In his eagerness, his body has already made a decision without consulting his brain first, and it has chosen physical intimidation. 

For a second, he’s not in control of his body. When he comes to, he’s already pressing Lin Jingyan down on the bed and squeezing his cheeks between his palms, staring down into his panicked expression between his palms. Good going, Zhang Jiale! 

The next day, Lin Jingyan’s name appears four more times on the sign-up sheet.

-

[Week 3 of ZXJ’s Help System, Wednesday, Zhang Jiale]

After his many missteps, Zhang Jiale learns to keep his curiosity on a leash. Well, that’s what he tells himself. The truth is that even though most of his body has stopped acting out and seeking Lin Jingyan, his eyes and brain remain unruly, stubbornly focused on whatever Zhang Xinjie has with him.

Honestly, he's doing quite well. The previously described behaviour of the Zhang-Lin duo continues even over the next few days, even noticeably getting more pronounced. One day, he even spots them giggling together, eyes squinted in happiness, leaning into each other’s spaces so deeply that there is barely room to breathe. He had to see that with his own eyes. Despite all this, he remains socially normal. 

Zhang Xinjie’s little help slot might not be a worldwide phenomenon yet, but it clearly is getting glowing reviews from its one repeat customer. Within Tyranny too, others have begun to sign up, fuelled by a mix of curiosity and actual need. Over the next few weeks, along with Lin Jingyan’s name, he sees Song Qiying, Bai Yanfei, and even some members from the training camp signing up for their vice-captain’s time. Despite all this, he manages to restrain himself. His self-control is truly something to be proud of. 

However, life enjoys throwing him curveballs. 

Holding back from abusing Zhang Xinjie’s help slot is hard enough when all of Tyranny seemed to share a world with their tactician that he doesn’t know about, but it gets worse one fateful morning. 

On the sign-up sheet, a non-Tyranny member’s name appears for the first time.

Wang Jiexi

How did he—

Many thoughts run through Zhang Jiale’s brain at this moment. One, trust Wang Jiexi to beat him even at this through some ridiculous means. Two, at this point, how is he still not part of this club? Three, why is he second place even in his own head? The rest of the thoughts are just as nonsensical as these, intertwined with war-flashbacks to every second place he was kicked into by that smug bastard.

Overall, the summary of his reaction can be summed up in a guttural and tragic shout into the void that never actually sounded.

-

[Week 5 of ZXJ’s Help System, Monday, Zhang Jiale]

After Wang Jiexi’s name appears on the list, it’s followed by Su Mucheng’s name, and then Huang Shaotian. Zhang Jiale finally breaks when retired God of Healing, Fang Shiqian, reappears from the grave just to book a slot too. 

At this point, he already has a vague idea of what these help slots are being used for. Some went to Zhang Xinjie for emotional advice, tips about tactics, and apparently Wang Jiexi had used the slot to compare optimal closet-upkeep tips. Huang Shaotian refuses to reveal what he needed help for, but judging from Yu Wenzhou’s flustered phone calls to Zhang Xinjie after the session, it must have been the matters of their little courtship . 

He has to get his name on that list. 

But what does he need help with? It surely isn’t worth Zhang Xinjie’s time to help him with his fear of missing out on being helped by him. Still, it might be a good excuse if that really is what has been bothering him. He already knows this isn’t the case; the problem isn’t even fully about Zhang Xinjie, if he really considers it. He was pretty shocked when he made this realisation. He had even jumped out of bed in shock at the wee hours of the morning. 

Of course, he has been feeling like he was missing out on the action every time that sign-up sheet got longer, but all the many many names on the list don’t actually bother him as much as the very first one that had started it all off.

Lin Jingyan. 

Lin Jingyan is his problem, and he desperately needs help. 

-

[Week 5 of ZXJ’s Help System, Tuesday night, Zhang Xinjie]

Zhang Xinjie sits in his office at 8.58 p.m., once again smoothing the folds of his jeans with his palms. He’s patted his own lap so much now that his hands were starting to feel numb to the texture. 

He’s usually nervous, before the first time helping a new person. Ever since he had started this system, two weeks ago, he’s had to get used to the necessary amount of anxiety that came along with this undertaking, and account for how it would affect his daily life. Even on that first night, with his gentlest senior, Lin Jingyan, he had been so nervous he could have sworn he tasted his heart in his throat. It had gotten steadily easier over time, especially after he realised that both parties were actually nervous about the appointment. Eventually, the fear before the meeting was just a nervous twinge in his chest.

Today, however, his anxiety has returned in full. He glances at his copy of the sign-up sheet for the tenth time this minute: Zhang Jiale.

This senior of his has been paying extra attention to him since he started his new system, but it is his first time actually signing up for a slot of his own. Zhang Xinjie has no idea how this session is going to go, how his attempts to solve Zhang Jiale’s problems will turn out. What kind of problems would Zhang Jiale even bring to him? These uncertainties have been ringing around in his head from the moment he saw the name, and have only gotten louder from the echo.

8.59 p.m.

He runs through all the things he knows about Zhang Jiale, trying to calm himself with the comfort of facts and the feeling of preparation. 

Zhang Jiale likes to tease. Zhang Jiale hates being second. He likes using his phone, the colour pink, and physical affection. He talks a lot when he eats. He’s always thinking, so deeply, about everything. He looks at plush toys in the malls and sometimes can’t resist buying them. 

A growing fondness calms him down. 

It’s going to be fine , he tells himself. It will be, because he knows Zhang Jiale and loves Zhang Jiale, and there is a nearly zero chance that anything his senior could say to him today would throw him off his game. 

Well, he is wrong, because the very first thing Zhang Jiale says to him once he’s seated already throws him for a loop. 

“I think I have a crush on Lin Jingyan, and it’s driving me crazy. Please help.”

He feels a pinching headache coming on, the kind that starts off as a pinch between the eyes and starts to consume your brain. He gives himself five seconds to collect himself and confirm that he is in fact here and not on some godforsaken romantic comedy show. When he’s done gathering his wits, he wants to laugh. Is this real life? Here Zhang Jiale is, confessing his romantic woes to Zhang Xinjie, when his crush, Lin Jingyan, has been spending most of his help slots getting romantic advice from him too. 

Zhang Xinjie finally says, “Okay, would you like to talk about it or do you want advice?”

From how he groans and then slumps bodily towards Zhang Xinjie the minute his request gets the go-ahead, Zhang Jiale obviously has been holding this all in for a while. 

“Let me just… talk about it for now. I don’t even really know what my problem is, or what I want.” 

Zhang Jiale tells him about how he’s been preoccupied with what Lin Jingyan was up to these days, how his subconscious feelings had been making him act irrationally. In the span of his confession, and the twenty minutes it takes up, he removes and puts back the scrunchie on his wrist at least fifteen times. It’s alarmingly adorable. With all the crazy revelations Zhang Xinjie is experiencing, he’s happy that at least he can count on the infallibility of his senior’s cuteness. 

Apparently, Zhang Jiale has essentially been living in a rom-com ever since Zhang Xinjie started his new system. As such, he feels at least partially responsible for Zhang Jiale’s distress, and decides he must help as much as he can. It will not be easy; how can he help both of them with their crushes on each other without revealing any secrets? 

“It seems that you are still unsure of what you want out of this… crush.” 

Zhang Xinjie keeps his voice as clinical as possible, but still can’t help the blush that rises when he says that word. He glances at the little yellow highlights on a private copy of his schedule, a reminder of his quiet three-year relationship with his captain and all the ways they accommodate each other. Yes, he supposes he has a little qualification to speak on this: the issue of romantic entanglements between teammates. 

(There’s also the secret little issue of himself being attracted to both of the teammates involved, too.)

He takes a breath and says, “From what I can see, you seem mostly content with the way your relationship is now. However, your feelings and jealousy were sparked by this sudden change in pace, am I right?”

Zhang Jiale nods, with an impressed look in his eyes that makes Zhang Xinjie blush again. 

“Then,” He continues, “You should test whether you’d feel this preoccupation if there was not an element of competitiveness. When you figure out whether your desire for his attention is a constant problem, you can then try to understand what you can do to ease your frustration.” 

They drum up ways for Zhang Jiale to test his emotions without hurting any of the parties involved. Some of these plans are practical, like testing a connection during a one-on-one outing. Some of them involve watching romantic movies or listening to love songs and comparing his feelings like a lovestruck teenager. Zhang Xinjie has had to get used to not being 100% certain about some things ever since he started this new system, especially since emotional advice can be so subjective, so this is not too hard for him. Besides, at least this time, he’s not completely out of his depth. Zhang Jiale seems grateful for any helping hand, as well, looking as if he even wanted to start taking frantic notes. (Not that he needs to; Zhang Xinjie will have a summary of the conversation ready for him tomorrow.) 

That first session ends roughly this way, and Zhang Xinjie cannot help but tuck his hair behind his ears and breathe a sigh of relief once the door closes on Zhang Jiale’s retreating silhouette. 

-

[Week 6 of ZXJ’s Help System, Wednesday, Lin Jingyan]

Zhang Jiale must be messing with him on purpose. 

This morning, he woke up early specifically to avoid a curious crowd while he went to book Zhang Xinjie’s slots. He’s taken to setting his alarm for fifteen minutes earlier than usual for Monday mornings, to be the first one in line when the new sign-up sheet is posted. It’s not his favourite time to wake up, but even while yawning fiercely and barely being able to open his eyes, every week when he gets the first pick of Zhang Xinjie’s time, he feels vindicated. It is all worth it, if only to see the beautiful sight of a warm (fresh out of the printer) blank sign-up sheet. 

But this morning, it is not empty.

Zhang Jiale. 

Ever since Zhang Jiale had finally given in to his curiosity and booked a slot a few days ago, he’s been quiet. Lin Jingyan simply assumed that he was done, that it was a one-off thing. Most people didn’t need to have repeat sessions anyway. Apparently, this is not the case for his teammate. 

Part of him is extremely curious about what Zhang Jiale needed Zhang Xinjie’s help for, and another (albeit irrational) part of him fears that his crush has already been exposed by Zhang Xinjie. He’s shaken these parts of himself off. Because honestly, he considers himself to be quite a relaxed person. So if even someone like him repeatedly needs help, an emotional goldmine like Zhang Jiale surely would need more. 

Just like this, he spares a moment of silence for his lost optimal Tuesday slot and walks away, sighing in defeat but thinking of ways to gain his advantage back.

-

[That Afternoon, Lin Jingyan] 

Later when he remembers that there is still a free Thursday slot to sign up for, he books it towards Zhang Xinjie’s office. What is he even running for? He does not know. Clearly, everyone else in Tyranny is enjoying a nice calm afternoon and not trying to rob him of his alone time with Zhang Xinjie. Still, there is a foreboding feeling in his heart that has been growing since the morning. 

When he rounds the corner, he’s assured that he’s not worrying for nothing. There he is, Zhang Jiale, just across the hallway, heading towards the sign-up sheet too. Like the climactic confrontation scene in a movie, they stare at each other from different ends of the corridor, daring the other to make the first move. 

Lin Jingyan needs this slot! Zhang Xinjie has so generously offered his time and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use one of his crushes to solve his other crush problem. Besides, there is already another problem he’s dealing with on his own— his attraction to Han Wenqing and Zhang Xinjie together. 

(His thoughts go off on a tangent here; in the special years when he’s settling into adulthood, he’s more and more drawn towards the reassuring quality and strength of the love that Han Wenqing and Zhang Xinjie share, the way that they’ve wholeheartedly trusted each other with their own lives.)

Either way, he has already lost his Tuesday slot, and he refuses to surrender this one too. Maybe in the world of glory, he often has to bow his head to the geniuses around him, but this is real life! And Zhang Jiale has 0 physical skill points!

He dashes forward without warning, and is satisfied with the look of shock in Zhang Jiale’s eyes. He zooms towards Zhang Xinjie’s door, and only when he reaches the sheet, it occurs to him that he’s come all the way here without a pen. Still, he blocks the sheet resolutely with his body when Zhang Jiale catches up to him. There! Zhang Jiale has a pen tucked into his pocket, something Lin Jingyan sees in slow-motion like the protagonist of an action movie. He snatches it quickly and scribbles his name quickly onto the sheet while keeping Zhang Jiale at an arm’s length (and also a leg’s length, when his arm got tired). 

He escapes unscathed and a winner from their first fight, but he’s sure he hasn’t heard the last of it. At least he won, although at the end of the day, Bai Yanfei comes up to him to ask why he wrote his own name as “Lin Linyan”. Small sacrifices. 

-

[Week 8 of ZXJ’s Help System, Monday, Han Wenqing]

Sometimes, being the captain of a professional esports team feels like he’s a shepherd handling a bunch of unruly kids, restless from spending the whole day with their bottoms in their gaming chairs and from refusing to exercise, squabbling with each other over the smallest things. 

Most of the time, of course, being the captain feels simply like being a team leader, just an adult pulling together the efforts of other grown adults. 

Grown… Adults…

A quack-like exclamation sounds from the next few rooms over, and Han Wenqing sighs. This is not most of the time. This is sometimes. For two weeks now, Lin Jingyan and Zhang Jiale have been spending their free moments being stubbornly antagonistic towards each other, apparently wrestling for first place in a competition nobody else has entered into. 

“Lin Jingyan, look over there!”

A moment after he hears that shout, he sees the familiar figure of Zhang Jiale flashing by his room and sliding to a stop at the next door, his ponytail swinging behind him. Just as he lifts his pen, smiling in smug satisfaction at that darned sign-up sheet, Lin Jingyan comes bounding over as well. Now Han Wenqing is getting a front view to this two-week long feud. 

Outside, the negotiations begin. 

Zhang Jiale, still using his whole body to block the sheet, offered, “Lao Lin, let’s call a truce, okay! I’ll sign up for Tuesday and you can have Thursday! Just back off for a moment.” 

Although uninvolved in the dispute, Han Wenqing scoffs internally. Yeah, as if. He can already see in his mind’s eye, Zhang Jiale signing up for both the days and then fleeing from the scene of the crime. Han Wenqing shakes his head and sighs to himself, walking resolutely to his door and shutting it. The petty arguing outside continues, but his hearing is mostly numbed to the sounds.

Of course, he’s no stranger to the effect that his Xinjie has on people, being the one most enthralled by this boyfriend of his. Still, he doesn’t think he ever behaved this hilariously when he had been the one infatuated. 

When Xinjie had started this system, neither of them had predicted the chaos that would ensue because of it. It had been fine for the first few weeks, just a little bit of excitement that didn’t overturn their lives too much. Then… He shudders, thinking back to the week when it all went awry. Two weeks ago, Zhang Jiale had finally signed up, apparently unable to hold out anymore.

It had all gone downhill since then. Some ancient sleeping beast had been awakened in those two teammates of his, and had turned every other moment into a feud. Xinjie is sure that the competition has less to do with him and more to do with their connection to each other, but Han Wenqing doesn’t think it’s that simple. 

No, this extremely childish competition is more complicated. 

Zhang Jiale and Lin Jingyan clearly like Xinjie— that was never in question. It’s not hard to miss the way they revel in his gentle attentions, how they perk up when he enters a room. Therefore, he cannot rule out the suspicion that their little feud is centred around their mutual crush. He smiles to himself. It’s moments like these that really make a man feel lucky in love. 

Of course, Xinjie is also right that they are probably enjoying this excuse to have each other’s full attention. 

From the other side of his door, delighted laughs begin to trickle in. He glances up at the door, enchanted by the sound. Putting aside their childish moments, he has endless fondness for Zhang Jiale and Lin Jingyan. They have been comforting to him, solid and reliable in the twilight of his professional career. In several decades, he will surely have them to thank for sparing him some extra frown-based wrinkles.

It seems that the current fight has died down, and he’s half wondering about its outcome and more happy that it has ended. He leans back into his chair and listens contentedly; the sound of joy is always his warmest comfort. Best to enjoy this while he can, seeing as it probably will not last. Xinjie says that for the past two weeks, the record of the longest time they had gone without having a petty squabble was just an hour. 

To his surprise, this peace lasts until their happy voices fade into the distance. Han Wenqing is filled with an inexplicable warmth that he usually associates with Xinjie. 

(He files this thought away for later.)

-

[Week 8 of ZXJ’s Help System, unidentified day, Zhang Jiale]

Even as an avid fan of soap operas, Zhang Jiale is having trouble keeping up with all the layers of interpersonal feelings that he is currently embroiled in. 

On one hand, his heart is singing for having Lin Jingyan’s undivided attention, having fully committed to his newly discovered crush. (Zhang Xinjie’s advice to figure out what he wanted had sent him spiralling completely, and now his heart is infested with butterflies.)

On the other hand, he’s not completely sure whether the romance vibes he’s been getting from Lin Jingyan are just collateral from their mutual crush on their captain and vice-captain. (Google Search: How do I know if romantic vibes are directed at me or if I’m just getting the splashback? )

On yet another hand (how many hands does he have?), all this extra alone time with the excessively cute Zhang Xinjie flaring up his other crushes. 

In the midst of the molasses of romantic tensions and competitive flirting, he’s pretty sure he’s half-confessed at least a dozen times, and he’s too caught up in the excitement to care for his dignity. But (on another hand…? foot?), all the extra glances and chuckles from his captain are not doing his poor overworked heart any favours either. Just the other day, he had found Han Wenqing looking at him with an expression like warm honey, eyes lit up with a look he usually seems to reserve for Zhang Xinjie. He had almost swooned. 

He needs to get a grip.

He really needs to calm down, and try to take stock of the way all this is progressing. And he will, after he goes to free Lin Jingyan from the bathroom he has been locked in to serve Zhang Jiale’s sign-up sheet agenda. 

-

[Week 9 of ZXJ’s Help System, Thursday Night, Zhang Jiale]

The third week of their fight brings them wrestling each other into Zhang Xinjie’s office. 

What had happened was this:

That slimy, handsome, dirty-playing bastard Lin Jingyan had convinced Zhang Xinjie to transfer the sign-up sheet online, to an excel sheet, because it was more practical (read with a mocking tone). 

Predictably, this did not turn out well. 

Zhang Xinjie’s no double-booking policy extended to the virtual sign-up sheet as well, but had become harder to implement by tenfold. An infinitely editable document, where names could be deleted and replaced without a trace… It was too much for the current state of him and Lin Jingyan. 

He had been “peacefully” (at break-neck speed) typing his name into the booking slot for that Thursday, when the stunning, victorious sight of his “Zhang Jiale” had switched halfway into “Zhang JiLin Jingyan”. He had then watched in horror as all traces of his name were wiped out by the Anonymous Snake on the document with him, all in the matter of seconds.

Curse the hand speed of pro-players!

He had immediately gone back into the cell to reassert his dominance. Years of second-place finishes had honed the competitive nature inside him, and he refused to lose! His hands flew at the speed of light, but he hadn’t even had the chance to bask in his triumph when the blinking green cursor of the Anonymous Snake had begun to fight back. 

There’s really no need to keep describing this battle, other than to clarify that it only resulted in aching fingers and tired eyes, and caused him to look up after getting numb to conquests and defeats to find out that it had been three hours. His hands were now perfectly practised with typing his name and deleting the other’s, and his cheeks hurt from all the giggling he had been doing. Layers , man. 

By the time Thursday rolls around, that slot has neither of their names confidently in it, but had practically been reserved for the two of them. The question is, which one of them is entitled to Zhang Xinjie tonight? 

And that brings them here, crashing into their vice-captain’s office, a tangle of limbs and hair and curses. 

They freeze once they fall into the room, taken aback by the scene before them. Han Wenqing and Zhang Xinjie are locked in a position of gentle intimacy, a sight that feels acutely private.

Zhang Xinjie’s eyes are closed, his back leaned into his chair, and the rise and fall of his chest is a rhythm one could get lost in. His hands, extended in front of him, are encased in Han Wenqing's. Han Wenqing takes each of Zhang Xinjie’s hands and presses kisses onto the pads of his fingers like an elaborate ritual. There is so much touch there, between the two of them. Zhang Xinjie is not wearing his glasses, instead having placed them onto the table beside him, along with his treasured watch. His wrist is bare, then, confirmed by how Han Wenqing’s lips move to it next, dragging slowly over the inviting skin there. Immediately after seeing this, Zhang Jiale fully registers the thought that he and Lin Jingyan are two intruders in a special place. 

(This peace is broken by their arrival, but Zhang Jiale swears that it took a moment for their nuisance to be processed, as if the four of them were on a momentary delay.)

Zhang Xinjie opens his eyes, “Can I help you?” 

His voice is quiet but formal, as always, with just a bit of hoarseness as though he’s been silent for a while. Beside him, Han Wenqing has his usual furrow between his brows, his fingers still wrapped around Zhang Xinjie’s wrists. 

Zhang Jiale and Lin Jingyan both burst out rambling at once.

“I’m here because—”

“It’s mine, actually, the—”

“Need your help—”

“Help slot—”

“TODAY!” 

“TODAY!”

From the bemused looks that Han Wenqing and Zhang Xinjie are giving them, Zhang Jiale has a feeling that they are surely missing something. 

Is it not actually Thursday right now? He shares a look with Lin Jingyan. Are they crazy? He checks the date on his phone just to make sure. He’s momentarily distracted by his phone’s wallpaper (“I will win not immediately but definitely”), but it’s definitely Thursday. To his slight relief, Zhang Xinjie also begins to do some double-checking, leaning towards his computer and pulling up his schedule, so at least they are not certainly out of the loop. 

Unfortunately, he comes away from his double-checking with the same confused look in their direction, and says, “Captain is taking the help slot today.”

Wait, what? 

Finally, he untangles his hands from Lin Jingyan’s hair, reaching into his pocket for his phone. His hands fly across the screen as he navigates to the tab that practically lives in his phone now: Zhang Xinjie’s Help Times. 

And there it is, like a sneak attacking assassin turning the tides of a match at the last moment. Han Wenqing’s name had quietly appeared in the spot the two of them were fighting over, stayed without them noticing, and now it was time for the session. 

His protests that want to burst out stay fearfully in his throat once he takes another look at Han Wenqing’s deepening frown. It’s also impossible to miss the way Zhang Xinjie is looking at them, his expression the same as it always is before he delivers unfortunate news. Zhang Jiale honestly doesn’t think he can get any more embarrassed. Heat is shooting straight from the soles of his feet into the tips of his hair like it is trying to escape from the situation too. 

He’s not ashamed to bow out now! Certainly not! He grabs the frozen Lin Jingyan beside him by the wrist and flees from the room, letting the door swing shut behind them.

-

[Immediately after, Lin Jingyan]

He considers himself more of a warm fire than a burning star, but for the past few weeks, he’s sure been through a lot of thrilling times. 

Now, having barely processed whatever just happened in Zhang Xinjie’s office, his wrist held in a surprisingly strong grip, and he’s running like the wind behind Zhang Jiale, their feet pounding on to the tiles. He doesn’t remember running like this after leaving high school, and with every door they fly past, he’s questioning his physical abilities more and more. After his thighs start to itch and he feels his poor lungs starting to struggle, he finally manages to free himself from Zhang Jiale.

“Jia… Jiale. Zhang Jiale. Let’s stop here… Tyranny compound’s not so big that we have to run for hours.” 

Every few words are punctuated by deep inhaling, but he seems to have gotten his point across. Zhang Jiale takes a second to stop his momentum before hobbling back to where he had stopped. They are in some long quiet hallway, one most people avoid because of its ghostly vibes in the night. The lights are on motion sensors, so it is even worse to walk down a lonely hallway as the lights welcome you slowly and menacingly. Lin Jingyan wants to say the silence is ringing around them, but it’s probably just the lights humming above them. 

Zhang Jiale is panting hard, with throaty intakes of breath that go straight to an area of Lin Jingyan’s body he’s been trying hard to ignore. As if trying to make life harder for him, Zhang Jiale reaches back and releases his hair too, shaking it out of its ponytail. They lean against either side of the wall catching their breaths, before the laughter finally catches up to them. 

They laugh until they draw the attention and curiosity of a passing Song Qiying, and continue to laugh some more after he leaves. They laugh until the sounds coming from Zhang Jiale barely sound like human laughter anymore, and Lin Jingyan has tears streaming down his face. 

“Lao Lin!! What the hell are we doing?” 

Zhang Jiale continues to laugh after he asks this, so Lin Jingyan only notices something is different when the laughs begin to trail off quietly. He looks up at this change, and finds Zhang Jiale looking at him too.

“Lao Lin… What are we doing?”

What are they doing? They are laughing breathlessly together in a hallway after occupying each other’s minds and time for weeks, invading each other’s personal spaces, altogether investing too much into this petty little competition. They are sweating and shaky after seeing the couple that they are in love with having a private moment. They are looking at each other and unable to explain what all this is about while knowing exactly what it is.

Truth be told, Lin Jingyan’s never really been in a relationship. He had never really had the chance, having gotten into Glory once he became a young adult, and donating that youth to the Alliance. Even when he’s been in love, it’s never gotten loud enough to distract him from his career.

Well, it’s loud now.

The distance between them has closed without his notice. Did he do that? He’s suddenly afraid to release his breath, like he’d somehow blow Zhang Jiale away with the force. 

“We’re having fun, a lot of fun.” He said, “And I think I like having fun with you a lot.”

“A lot?”

He nods, smiling sheepishly.

“ A lot a lot?”

He’s laughing after that, so when Zhang Jiale kisses him, and he does, he actually does, he laughs into his mouth. 

Obviously, there is a conversation to be had later, and not just between the two of them, but he’s content with just doing this for now.

-

[The Very Next Day, Han Wenqing]

In the afternoon, Han Wenqing is stirred from his power nap two minutes in. He opens his eyes groggily, feeling the familiar furrow writing itself into his brows. Two shamefaced figures slowly unblur in his vision: Lin Jingyan and Zhang Jiale. 

He raises his head from the table, rubbing his eyes and nodding at them to state their business. 

The two of them, joined at the hip as they’ve been recently, pull up chairs and sit across from him. He has a hunch that this has something to do with the incident from last night, having been interrupted in a tender moment he had squared time away for with his Xinjie. He supposes it’s only right that the two (or maybe all four) of them took the time to review their behaviour as of late. 

“We should probably have a proper talk about everything we’ve put you through for the last few weeks.” Lin Jingyan starts by stating the obvious, “We’re really sorry. We’ve been immature.”

Han Wenqing is struck by a strong affection for the two of them again. The reason he had let them go so far off the rails is that they have been overwhelmingly reliable to him; he thinks they deserve to be a little immature sometimes. (They’re so strong, and the same fire burns in them that does in him, and a part of his heart has been sighing happily ever since they joined Tyranny. People like them make it so easy for him to be brave.) Still, he has been hoping they would soon come to their senses. Xinjie was starting to be stressed out by all the uncertainty, having started drawing charts already. 

At least now, they seem to have snapped out of it at last. He hums and gestures for them to continue. 

Zhang Jiale says, “After we saw you guys last night, we had a kiss. I mean, a kiss . I mean, a conversation !” 

It takes everything Han Wenqing has to keep from chortling at this. Hands gripping heavily on his thighs and biting the insides of his cheeks, he lifts an eyebrow. Only right before Zhang Jiale begins to ramble again, Han Wenqing fully processes the bomb that’s been dropped on him. They kissed? 

“We are so, so sorry we’ve been dumping our romantic troubles onto Xinjie and also on you!” He says, hands folded together as if in prayer, “We have wronged you and desecrated our vice-captain’s office with our craziness!”

Beside him, Lin Jingyan is nodding strongly, throwing in his lot with this hilarious apology too. Han Wenqing is still busy being surprised at the kiss, but he’s ready to laugh all of it off and send them on their way with the tired fondness they always inspire in him now. Before he can do this, however, Lin Jingyan is talking too.

“But we were thinking, and Xinjie’s help actually let us come to this conclusion, that maybe our romantic troubles don’t only concern each other,” Lin Jingyan says. Han Wenqing cannot say he’s surprised by this. He’s known for a while that they were interested in Xinjie, too. He still doesn’t know, though, how he feels about it, being Xinjie’s boyfriend. 

Lin Jingyan must see his expression become somewhat guarded, because he continues quickly, “We don’t mean to come between you two! Well, not in the way you think! It’s just, I think us four need to talk?”

Four? He blinks. Lin Jingyan, Zhang Jiale, Zhang Xinjie, and… Han Wenqing? In his hurry to reply, his response is simply a cut-off grunt, almost scaring the wits out of the other two. He tries again, and the next sound that emerges from his throat isn’t much clearer. He decides he might as well just speak. 

“Four?” 

Zhang Jiale nods, “Four of us, right? You, me, Lao Lin, Xinjie… That’s four, right?” 

That last part seems to be a genuine question. He must really be tired from all the drama. Han Wenqing laughs, a sound that mingles with the same coming from Lin Jingyan. He has a sudden thought that his heart is just gearing up for a marathon. He really needs to go to Glory to play a few rounds of PvP right now. Maybe Ye Qiu is free?

“Come on, Lao Han, you don’t know you’re attractive?” Zhang Jiale laughs, panic and a bit of confusion evident in his eyes. 

“Of course I know. How was I supposed to know that you couldn’t handle it?”

There’s a tinge of relief in Zhang Jiale’s eyes that lasts for a second before being replaced by indignation, as he blusters, “How dare you— I’ve been— We are always— You walk around here looking like— HMMMMMM…” 

And then the three of them laugh together, and he notes that he really likes to laugh with them. Whatever his heart had wanted to do earlier, it seems to be appeased by this easy interaction, their feet bumping under the table and their eyes squinted in joy. Everything is easy with them, has been easy, like pushing your arms through water and feeling like flying. It’s the same as whenever he is with Xinjie, like maybe he’s always been a happy person. 

He’s about to tell them that they had not been alone in their unhinged behaviour, that Xinjie’s been a little off the rails too, but the door opens right then as if the universe had learnt comedic timing. 

In came his poor Xinjie, completely off-schedule and talking already before bothering to check the situation inside. He’s wheeling in his portable whiteboard behind him, covered in diagrams and post-its. His laptop, too, is open and shining awfully bright. From where he’s sitting, Han Wenqing can see hundreds of tabs open, squeezed so tightly they are barely visible. He’s certain that there’s a tab somewhere playing a video Xinjie has forgotten to pause. 

“— Found out that this gossip columnist does not have much experience in relationships, so I think I can clear that advice away. That leaves me with at most seven different layperson viewpoints to consider in this dilemma, along with the research papers from—”

Zhang Jiale and Lin Jingyan make horrified eye contact with him across the table. Han Wenqing simply gestures helplessly at the scene before them. The state of Xinjie serves as an explanation for itself. The other two already know that sometimes Xinjie gets caught up in small and big uncertainties, his brain refusing to let him relax until he has found something to weigh it all down. It’s just their first time witnessing it in person. Even last night, when they had entered the room as he took care of Xinjie, they had only seen him after he had relaxed somewhat. 

Of course, upon first glance, Xinjie seems normal. He’s even more buttoned up and combed down than usual, immaculate to the point of perfection. But Han Wenqing can see the shadows under his eyes where questions have been keeping him awake, the obsessive nature of his rationality. 

He gets up and heads over to his stressed boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him and leaning his chin onto his shoulder from behind. In that position, he slides his hands up and down Xinjie’s sides, leading him, mind and body, into a slow rhythm. He feels the moment exactly when Xinjie remembers to breathe again. 

He turns back to the other two when Xinjie has relaxed into his arms, and shares an amused look with them, see what you’ve done to my Xinjie ? Once again, they throw their hands up in apology, rubbing their palms together frantically. All three of them know how much tea and xanax they’re going to need to calm Xinjie down enough to have their conversation later, but Han Wenqing has a gut feeling that it is all going to be worth it. 

(He is very right.)

-

[Several Months Later]

A few months later, Zhang Xinjie’s help system has already been reduced, but it is still no uncommon sight to see the generals of Tyranny spending private hours together. 

Zhang Jiale has learnt the exquisite joy of seeing himself accounted for in Xinjie’s schedule, something he was possibly microdosing on when the help system had first started. He’s always easy to fall in love, never resolute in it, but being generously given Xinjie’s time like small pieces of his life, he cannot doubt it for a second now. 

His relationship with Lin Jingyan has not changed much, on the surface. It’s always been easy to be with Jingyan, who’s warm and gentle and so accessible. What he treasures most about their newfound love is its intention. They’ve liked each other from before, but now they know, and they smile at each other every day like they’re celebrating this knowledge. 

Han Wenqing is often seen cooking meals for four, all their different preferences memorised. He’s been learning of love that is not just intense, and steadfast, but forgiving and spontaneous, too. He’s in love with the idea that their fire is the force that ties them together, when he’s always been warned that his intensity would drive others off. 

Some nights, one of their bedside tables will have two pairs of glasses placed side by side. Some mornings, Zhang Xinjie wakes up and puts on glasses only to discover that he still cannot see, and then hears Lin Jingyan laughing beside him over their shared folly. Their clocks and watches are always synced now, and Zhang Xinjie has gained a new certainty in his life. 

Zhang Xinjie and Han Wenqing had put aside a sure path for Zhang Jiale and Lin Jingyan twice now, for pursuit of Glory and then for new, shared happiness. There are two rings, matching and simple, tucked away in their drawers, a reminder of a life they were ready to live together before love found them again. Han Wenqing still does not like the idea of retreating, but he’s learnt to be satisfied with changing paths, especially ones that led him to this.

Things are different, but also the same as they have always been, in Tyranny— things are easy when you work hard for them. That’s something the four of them know all too well. 

(The 9pm time slot is always theirs now, and they’re all willing to share.)

• End