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It was quiet in this part of the building, a contradiction from what Wei Chen was used to back in City G and what he had expected to find here. Or, he guessed, what he would have expected to find here if everything he’d seen over the course of the past year didn’t send a frisson of worry down his spine.
The few people he had passed in the hallways leading towards the training room took little notice of him, one merely raising her eyebrows when she realized where and towards whom he seemed to be headed.
He clenched his fist briefly and then released it, forcibly flexing his fingers outward. He took a deep breath and then exhaled harshly, hoping to push his frustration out with it. Pride had no place in what he was here to do. It shouldn’t hurt to not be recognized by what were probably some accountants or business managers or HR workers. It still did, though.
Wei Chen took a deep, measured breath, just like Doc had told him to do when he felt that familiar stirring of aggression in the pit in his stomach, and imagined his frustration escaping along with the air he exhaled.
“Having your self-worth be tied to how others perceive you can be dangerous, Wei Chen,” Doc had said, sitting with one of his ankles propped up on his other knee, relaxed as anything even with that kindly concerned look on his face while Wei Chen fidgeted anxiously while slouching into the other chair.
He wondered if the older man would be proud of him in that calm way of his when he went in for this month’s appointment and told him that he’d gone through with this.
“From everything you’ve shared with me, it’s clear you find great value in being a leader and a mentor,” Doc had said when Wei Chen had finished talking about Shaotian’s recent debut and how skilled and confident his junior had been on the stage after the older man had asked Wei Chen to share an accomplishment he was proud of. “And yet, despite that, you’ve removed yourself from an environment where you had such a role as a way to punish yourself for not ‘being the best.’”
“Isolating yourself from those you care about isn’t just a punishment for yourself, it’s also a punishment for the people who care about you in return,” Doc had continued, tone soft but gaze piercing, striking something fragile inside Wei Chen when he had finished with that damning question of “Don’t you think that young man would have wanted to have you there to celebrate his success with him, to know how proud of him you are? Would you still be proud of him if he had lost, or would you think it best for him to retire as well?”
Wei Chen’s fingers had plucked a cigarette from the pack in his jacket pocket before he consciously realized what he was doing. Not like he planned to resist the urge though. His thoughts were all over the place, and all his self-restraint was currently allocated towards not slamming the door at the far end of the next hallway open and then shaking his other idiot kid by the shoulders until he did something sensible, like ask for help.
That first inhale of nicotine had him lowering his shoulders, which he hadn’t noticed had been creeping up towards his ears. Shit, stress like this wasn’t a good look on him. No wonder that girl at the corner store back near his apartment wouldn’t give him her number. He would be telling the kid that it was his fault in a minute if he didn’t know he’d get a raised eyebrow and a softly drawled, ‘Yeah, I’m sure that’s why’ in return.
God, this fucking kid.
As he turned the last corner, he saw the door to the training room at the end of the hallway was already open, no slamming necessary to enter. He still had no idea what exactly he was going to say when he walked in there, despite the hours he’d had to plan it out.
The training room was the only one with lights on in this hallway. That was surprising despite it being the start of summer when the main roster made use of what little vacation time this profession afforded them. There was never an off-season for the guild, and summer was arguably one of the busiest times for R&D, but still, there was only one room in this wing with the lights on and the keyboards clacking–or in this case, a single keyboard.
The lone player sat with his back to the doorway as he maneuvered his avatar through the Gloom Forest, hand moving his mouse with confident, assured adjustments and his eyes locked on the screen.
Wei Chen leaned against the doorway, watching the younger man as he slaughtered several goblins with the level 46 elementalist he was using today. Wei Chen could see the intense focus in the kid’s golden eyes as he analyzed the forest his avatar was in, the graceful way his fingers flew over the keys. But for all his comfort with everything happening on the screen in front of him, Ye Qiu looked tired.
The kid seemed fragile in a way Wei Chen had never seen him look before. It was hard to watch, seeing a kid so full of talent and fire sitting alone, a cigarette between his lips and smoke curling around him with no one to tell him not to light up inside or take a break to eat.
Wei Chen could almost make out a ghostly outline in the empty chair next to Ye Qiu. If he listened real hard, he could almost hear a different kid protesting his suggestion (phrased like an order, of course) to eat some lunch or grab a shower like it was yesterday instead of six years ago. ‘Yah, you just want us to break so you can pull the hidden boss for Blue Brook, don’t you, Swoksaar? Leaf and I can go for hours, old man.’
But for all his complaining, Little Tree would still send his sister to get them some ramen and would force Ye Qiu to scarf it down ‘so you have enough energy to keep wiping the floor with these old men.’
Wei Chen didn’t doubt that Su Mucheng was still doing her best to keep Ye Qiu fed and functioning, but such a task was not a one-person endeavor. At least, it shouldn’t be.
“It’s evident you miss taking care of your team and your ‘idiot juniors’ as you’re so fond of calling them. So why are you punishing everyone you could be helping by staying away?”
A low, smooth voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
It took everything in Wei Chen to not flinch at being acknowledged when he had assumed himself to be unnoticed. Still, that was a pretty neutral statement from the league’s king of pulling aggro.
“You come trying to steal one of my rings since you know you’ll never get your own?” Ye Qiu drawled around his cigarette. “In general and also considering you retired without a word.”
Ah, that was more like it.
A scoff escaped him before he could prevent it. “Oh, like you’d say a single sentence to anyone other than Little Su if you were walking out those doors downstairs for good.”
“Not something we can know for a while, since I’m not falling apart two years in like you, old man.” Ye Qiu’s voice was matter of fact, lacking any hint of judgment or anger, but the elementalist he was playing navigated the forest with sharper movements than before and Wei Chen could see the clench of the kid’s jaw as he waited for him to make excuses.
Wei Chen closed his eyes and took a breath, the ghostly image of Su Muqiu gone but the absence of him present as ever when he reopened them.
Ye Qiu cut him off before he had gathered himself well enough to make a rebuttal. “What brings you to Excellent Era today, Old Wei?”
Wei Chen spluttered a little, the fucking cheek on this kid, before saying, “the fuck you think brought me here?” he said, gesticulating to the otherwise empty room.
“I couldn’t possibly know,” Ye Qiu said, still not looking away from the computer screen. “That’s why I, you know, asked.”
Wei Chen huffed. “Oh, you don’t know. The person who has the best situational awareness I’ve ever seen has no clue why his senior came crawling out of obscurity and showed up quite literally at his door? I thought you said you weren’t falling apart, huh? That sounds like you’re slipping, to me.”
Two sharp clicks of the mouse had Ye Qiu moving his avatar to the side, now done with combat, and out of the way of any possible interactions or interruptions. With that, he turned in his chair, lips already parted to start shooting off more smart mouth comments, but Wei Chen had gotten started, and he knew better than to let that kid interrupt him just as he got going.
“This father may have retired, but you think I don’t watch? You think I just gave up Glory and the league I helped build?”
From the narrowing of the kid’s eyes (aish, still too intense, those eyes), it was clear Ye Qiu did think that. Wei Chen wanted to be insulted, but he couldn’t. Damn, therapy really worked, didn’t it?
“I didn’t win a trophy or get any fancy rings of my own,” he continued, “but you think I don’t see when the maps come up and the avatars spawn and the Excellent Era that haunts my nightmares makes mistakes–simple, easily fixable mistakes that I know, I fucking know, you’d have prepped and trained your team not to make–or misses cues from their shot caller or is just a second or two late to an ambush or a heal. You think these eyes are too old to notice something wrong?”
He took a deep final drag and then walked forward and angrily ground the end of his cigarette into the ashtray off to Ye Qiu’s side.
“I don’t–” Wei Chen put up his hand and talked over Ye Qiu, “Nope, not done. Not even close to done, kid.”
He leaned against the table and rubbed a hand over his face. It’d been a long day to get here, and fuck, this kid was so stubborn and all alone and Wei Chen thought he might cry when Ye Qiu actually closed his mouth and waited for him to keep going.
The kid always cut in. Or tuned people out if he didn’t want to listen. But here he was, focused on the conversation and waiting for someone else to say their piece. If that didn’t tell him how starved for support, for someone to step in and say ‘what the actual fuck’ the kid was . . .
“You think I don’t worry about you, here in this building, staring day in and day out at a logo that most people walking these hallways will only ever understand by half?” He whispered. In the mostly-empty room, his words echoed around the two of them, neither able to look at each other.
Wei Chen swallowed, forcing the emotion that wanted to rise up back down so he could get the words out. “You think I don’t worry about you, sitting here in these chairs that are molded to your flat ass after you sit in them long past when you should be eating or sleeping or even showering, for fuck’s sake?” He had turned to wave a hand at Ye Qiu to encompass the kid’s exhausted, unshowered state. “Now that Old Wu and the rest of that mangy group who actually knew how to hold you accountable about taking care of yourself are gone, you think no one else cares whether you burn out at these desks? You think no one else cares, that no one else worries?”
Wei Chen still couldn’t look at Ye Qiu, couldn’t see him looking too small in that chair, so he missed the way Ye Qiu’s eyes widened and his hands gripped the armrests tightly in his surprise before the younger man forced himself to relax.
“Well, I fucking do, you little brat,” Wei Chen all but spat, wagging a finger at Ye Qiu like the three-time champion was a toddler Wei Chen was scolding.
“It doesn’t matter how many rings you win, you’ll always be that too-skinny sixteen year old kid with eye bags and a smart mouth and more talent than most people know what to do with.”
“I don’t know how to not worry about you,” he said, breathing hard as his little speech (that went better than I thought without actually planning it out and Doc will never believe I said all that) wound down. “And after watching this season and seeing you tonight, I’m really worried,” he admitted.
He finally turned to meet Ye Qiu’s eyes, and they seemed impassive and unimpressed with the words that had been so very hard to offer up.
“You should have worried half as much about Blue Rain when you left,” Ye Xiu told him, his fingers lightly tapping against the table the only indicator that he was affected by everything Wei Chen had said. “You think Shaotian was just okay after you walked out one night and never came back?”
Wei Chen hated how good this kid was at raising a single eyebrow. That was a skill he really needed to learn. “What’s that saying they tell you on planes, huh? Put the oxygen mask on yourself before you help your neighbor. I had to go. I couldn’t–.”
He brought a hand up to rub at his temples, covering his eyes in the process. They felt too tight, and he needed a moment to do his breathing exercises, but there wasn’t a moment to take if he wanted Ye Qiu to actually listen to him and let him be here.
“Shaotian needed to focus on himself, and if I’d have stayed, he would have thought too much about me and the politics of it all. That kid has too big a heart and too much loyalty hiding behind that mouth of his. He would have gotten lost in all the drama when he should have been preparing for his debut. And I wouldn’t have been able to guide him through that the right way, not with my own head that messed up about everything.”
Wei Chen sighed, the pressure behind his eyes increasing. It was taking more and more effort to keep his voice steady. Trust Ye Qiu to make this as hard as it could possibly be and drag up everything he was ashamed of. But he’d face it here in this room and not just in his therapist’s office if it meant this kid would let him in, let him help.
“Don’t think any guilt I do or don’t feel about Blue Rain is going to distract me from why I’m here,” the older man said from behind his hand.
Tch, so stubborn. Old Wei is too focused on this to be distracted.
No, for all that Wei Chen was a self-considering, easily-antagonized wannabe gangster, Ye Xiu had never known him to be distractible when it came down to the things that Old Wei was truly focused on, and it seemed that he was fully focused on Ye Xiu and what Excellent Era was becoming.
Ye Xiu waited and watched as Wei Chen massaged his temples one last time before letting his hand drop. The older man’s fingers twitched as if in want of another cigarette, and Ye Xiu was surprised to not see him reach for the pack he knew was on Wei Chen’s person somewhere. If Old Wei was too focused to smoke, then he really was serious about this.
“Here’s what I know,” the older man said, staring straight at him this time. Ye Xiu didn’t like the look in Wei Chen’s eyes. It was too steely, too searching. It had been almost two years since anyone other than Mucheng looked at him like that, but appeasing Mucheng was easy. Appeasing Wei Chen apparently would not be.
“Wu Xuefeng is gone, and the others retired and disappeared to go live their normal non-Glory-obsessed lives. Little Su is still gathering her footing in the league, handling all the sponsorships thrown her way and what it means to be a female pro-gamer. And your team is shit, comparatively, to the people you built a dynasty with.”
All very accurate and things Ye Xiu knew but didn’t want to actively think about while he was grinding in the place of guild workers who had been given vacation days during a typically-crucial recruitment period in-game.
“You’re, no doubt, trying to take care of all of it, the new members’ gaps in skill, Mucheng, the rookies–arrogant, arrogant, what are they teaching them in the training camps these days?”
God, and wasn’t that something Ye Xiu had wondered every day of season five. At least it really wasn’t just him being ‘too demanding’ like he’d heard some of the rookies complaining.
“But who’s taking care of you now, Little Leaf?”
Ye Xiu closed his eyes a beat longer than normal, letting the sound of a name so few others had used wash over him and sink beneath his skin like the balm he hadn’t realized it was until he stopped hearing it.
Wu Xuefeng, Qin Tianran, Xia Ming and all the rest had switched to calling him Little Captain once they started practicing as a team. They could all pretend that he was always supposed to be captain, but none of them had been able to pretend that a call for Leaf wasn’t supposed to be answered by Tree as well.
And if none of them could pretend, then they had all silently agreed to step around that particular minefield and find new ground. So he’d become Little Captain around Excellent Era headquarters instead.
His former teammates hadn’t been the only ones to call him Little Leaf though. Some of the others from the first server and a few of the other true talents in the league in seasons one and two had taken up the name as well. But they were all gone now, off with real jobs and families. Everyone who remained either just called him Ye Qiu or Senior Ye, now that the next generation had arrived at the top.
Old Lin had left when Wei Chen did, but he hadn’t completely fallen out of touch the way most other pros had when they retired. The Tiny Herb captain had always gotten along so well with Wu Xuefeng, and the pair of them had made it a point to drag Ye Xiu along to dinner after any match in City B in season three. Without Wu Xuefeng though, those dinners had fallen by the wayside.
Sun Zheping had recently taken a page out of Wei Chen’s book and completely disappeared. And with him left the last member of the older, ruthless generation who still saw Ye Qiu as an in-game upstart, who still talked to him as a junior or a peer. The only remaining exceptions were Zhang Jiale, who was mourning the loss of his partner, something Ye Xiu understood better than most, and Han Wenqing, the last rock standing of a crumbling foundation, who’d always seen him as an equal to challenge, as a friend.
And yet, his and Han Wenqing’s friendship was not one built upon care and concern. It was one of metaphorical clasped forearms and the ever-steady reminder that they were both still here, still at the peak, stalwart when others faltered.
But this, sitting in the training room, alone, leveling a card for the guild when the seventh server crew should be handling the materials grind, going over and over the playoff losses in his mind and wondering what he could have said or done differently to make his teammates actually play for Glory, maybe this was faltering looked like.
Ye Xiu’s fingers stilled at the thought.
“And don’t try to tell me that you are taking care of you.” Old Wei’s frustrated voice broke in before Ye Xiu’s pragmatism fully accepted what it would mean if all of that were true. “I’m not sure you’ve taken care of yourself a day in your life, Ye Qiu, and I didn’t expect you to start now that the remainder of your support system fucked off to go work a respectable job or get some fancy American degree.”
Ye Xiu didn’t begrudge his former teammates the lives they’d gone on to live. He never had. While he hadn’t wanted them to leave, he’d understood that they were heading towards what was next for them. Yes, Excellent Era was much lonelier without their antics and head pats and insistence to ‘eat and sleep like a normal person, Little Captain,’ but he still had Mucheng.
“Or they retired and left without a word to you or anyone,” Wei Chen finished, acknowledging what it was that had festered between them in the three years since his senior had disappeared.
The words were quiet. They were not regretful or apologetic, but they were full of self-condemnation, as if Wei Chen had already judged himself and was paying a predetermined penance but would accept any additional judgment Ye Xiu had for him.
He wasn’t sure if he had any though.
Ye Xiu had always just listened to whatever disappointing news came his way and carried on. Nothing could ever be as bad as losing Muqiu–or Mucheng, but that was not a scenario he allowed himself to consider. So when his seniors had retired and stopped playing Glory altogether, eliminating the one way he was able to talk to them since he still refused to use a cell phone, he’d nodded and kept going. When Shaotian sent him more than 200 messages that became increasingly more hysterical telling him that Old Wei was gone and he couldn’t find him or get ahold of him, he’d sighed, nodded, and agreed to PK for two hours to help calm him down. When he’d gone to tell Wu Xuefeng how uncertain he was about the fourth season now that Xia Ming, Yin Xiong, Xue Mingkai, and Qin Tianran were all leaving at the same time and had been told that Feng-er was leaving too before he could get the words out, he’d swallowed down that sinking feeling, nodded, and kept going. When he’d approached Boss Tao to give his input on the new roster members last summer and who was and wasn’t a good fit, or which kinds of players they should be looking for in the transfer windows and been firmly rebuffed and subtly condescended to, he’d accepted this new reality, nodded, and kept going.
So no, he didn’t think he had any pent-up anger preventing him from forgiving Wei Chen. He didn’t like what his senior had chosen to do, but he understood it. Old Wei was right that he’d probably disappear without a word to anyone but Mucheng when he retired too, and he didn’t begrudge Old Guo or Fang Shijing or any of the others for disappearing, so none of those arguments really held up when he considered them.
No, the only thing that was preventing him from admitting just how exhausted and worried he was to Wei Chen–who had come all this way and made this big speech that Ye Xiu knew Wei Chen would normally rather bite his own lips off than make–was his pride.
But Wei Chen was maybe the most prideful person Ye Xiu knew besides his twin, and here his senior was, standing in front of him, looking exhausted after what was likely a full day of travel to get to City H, admitting he’d been watching and paying attention to his matches, being extremely (and overwhelmingly) upfront about his concern, and showing in both words and actions that he cared more about Ye Xiu than the man’s own hurt pride that had sent him running from Blue Rain.
The Su siblings were the only ones who’d ever seen him this low, this uncertain before. Mucheng, for all that she’d grown and learned and became someone he was so undeniably proud of, was still his to care for. He couldn’t put this type of load on her shoulders. And Muqiu was gone. Muqiu who saw him and almost immediately knew him for exactly what he was and was not capable of, who pushed him and cared for him and loved–.
Ye Xiu let his head fall back to rest against his chair’s headrest, breaking the too-intense eye contact with his senior. He tried to take a steady, deep breath, but it got caught in his chest along the way. He hoped Wei Chen missed it, but he doubted it.
Muqiu was gone, but if he were here, he’d be badgering Ye Xiu not to be an idiot and just let this trashy old man help him. ‘It’s okay to need help sometimes, Ye Xiu. We’re stronger together, hey? It’s not weak to let me in, to let people in.’
So the real question was, if Wei Chen could put his pride aside to be here, could Ye Xiu put his aside too and actually let him, or would he do what came most naturally: just deflect and send him on his way with a token thank you and an insincere promise to let him know if he needed help?
“But sometimes they come back, apparently,” he said to the ceiling, graciously allowing Wei Chen to overhear.
He couldn’t see the way the older man sagged in relief at the opening Ye Xiu had given him, but he felt it in the back of his throat when Wei Chen pulled the chair next to him out, sat down, and used his foot to nudge Ye Xiu’s while saying, “Yeah, Little Leaf, sometimes they do.”
Ye Xiu nodded to himself, trying not to let Wei Chen see his slight smile, before asking, “And what do you plan to do now that you’re here, Old Wei?”
“Stick around for a while,” he said bluntly. His dark brown eyes bored into Ye Xiu’s as if to make sure Ye Xiu fully believed him.
Ye Xiu did.
“Anything else?’ Ye Xiu kept himself from chuckling at the irritation that flashed across Wei Chen’s features. His senior really hated that drawling tone of voice Ye Xiu had perfected a decade ago on his twin.
“Seems like your guild workers could use a little help, considering they’re so incompetent they need the team captain to do their jobs for them.” Ye Xiu swallowed tightly at the thought of having someone he could trust overseeing the guild. That would be . . . a significant relief.
Wei Chen continued, thinking Ye Xiu wasn’t responding because helping the guild wouldn’t be enough to excuse keeping Wei Chen in City H, “I could do a little coaching and training too, what with the kinds of rookies Excellent Era has been pulling in lately. Would be nice to run rings around some brats, humble them early before they get up to you and are slapped in the face with just how large the gap is between them and you.”
Ye Xiu nodded. Wei Chen helped train Shaotian and Wenzhou, not to mention countless other pro players within Blue Rain. He’d be an excellent trainer for those playing mage or night walker classes.
“But mostly, I plan to take care of this kid I know and his sister. Brat’s in over his head and could use some support. He’s irritating, but he’s the most hard-working, talented player I’ve ever met. It’d be a damn shame to see him burn out from doing it all on his own.”
Ye Xiu opened his mouth to say something that would frustrate Wei Chen enough to stop being so sincere but closed it again when the words wouldn’t come.
It had been a long time since someone besides Mucheng was this genuine with him. It had been even longer since someone complimented him about something that mattered without it being part of an attempt to get him to do something he didn’t want to do. And accepting Wei Chen’s help was something he actually did want to do, apparently, if the tightness of his throat and the inability to brush his senior off meant anything.
Maybe he did want someone to tell him what to do and how to fix this mess. It was becoming clearer and clearer throughout this conversation that the situation here in Excellent Era wasn’t something he could clean up on his own, and to not try would feel like giving up on his and Muqiu’s dream.
He wanted someone here in this place he loved who believed in him the way Muqiu and Wu Xuefeng had, who could be there for him and Mucheng who had always deserved more than just Ye Xiu muddling his way through supporting her. He hadn’t let himself realize how much he wanted all of it. But now that it was being offered to him, he wanted it desperately.
Ye Xiu hated the way his voice shook slightly as he whispered, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me,” Wei Chen said, just as shakily.
They both looked away and took a second to clear their throats, in silent mutual agreement to pretend like nothing emotionally significant had just happened.
“Alright, now that we’re really doing this, you need to tell me the truth of how bad it is,” Old Wei demanded. “I can’t be as helpful as I could be if I don’t know where we stand.”
Ye Xiu shook his head and exhaled forcefully. He’d need to get used to a ‘we’ that referred to more than him and Mucheng again.
“Then I should probably start with the fact that my name isn’t actually Ye Qiu.”
The ‘thunk’ sound of Wei Chen’s forehead smacking into his palm echoed in the room, and Ye Xiu had no shot at preventing himself from snickering at the pure exasperation on his senior’s face.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” the older man muttered, making it even more of a struggle for Ye Xiu to stop laughing at him. “Alright, get up. Let’s go, brat,” he said, swatting at Ye Xiu’s knee and standing up. He was already pushing the chair in and making for the door while Ye Xiu blinked and said, “What?”
Wei Chen turned back towards him and just waved him forward, as if to say why aren’t you moving yet? “If shit like that is the beginning of the story, you’re crazy to think we’re doing this without a meal in front of us. Grab your jacket and move your ass, kid.”
Ye Xiu laughed again in bewilderment but had already started standing up and stretching out after too many hours in the same position. He pulled the card he was using out of the reader and zipped up his jacket. He looked over at Wei Chen, leaning against the doorway and impatiently waiting for him, an unlit cigarette already between his fingers.
“I said let’s go,” Wei Chen huffed. “I need a full belly to listen to what I just know is going to be a mountain of bullshit.”
Ye Xiu walked through the doorway and started down the hall, knowing Wei Chen would follow. He looked back over his shoulder as he sped up just slightly and said, “Well then what are you waiting for, old man?”
He faced forward and smirked as he heard Wei Chen spluttering behind him and hurrying to match his pace. Things were looking up.
Wei Chen was drunk. No two questions about it. He was three sheets to the wind and working on another beer at the little table in the room Ye Xiu–not Ye Qiu (what the fuck) since apparently Ye Qiu was in City B running a multi-million dollar corporation (WHAT the fuck) in Ye Xiu’s place (what the FUCK) since the actual heir had run away at fifteen with his brother’s ill-packed bag before his twin could run away (WHAT THE FUCK)–had set him up in.
He had been craving a drink long before Ye Xiu had told him about meeting the Su siblings and what he and Little Tree had done to pay rent and put food on the table and get Mucheng through school. By the time they got past Ye Xiu having to organize the funeral and grabbing the wrong ID on his trip home, Wei Chen was out of cigarettes and out of his mind, or so it felt like.
Hearing just why the best player in the league did no advertising and how the club’s boss had handled that decision with less and less grace every successive season had him itching to put his fist through that man’s nose. And hearing the weariness in the kid’s voice as he admitted just how much things had changed without the steady guidance of his former vice-captain and how little respect the management and the newer players showed the person who had built that whole fucking club from the ground up and taken them to the top and kept them there—Wei Chen was pissed off. More pissed off than he’d ever been in his whole life. And he’d had anger problems since very early in his childhood according to Doc and just about every teacher who’d ever sent a note home to his parents.
So he had clapped Ye Xiu on the shoulder in thanks for telling him, told the kid they would figure it out, all of it, and said he needed to get some rest and brainstorm.
Ye Xiu was disrespectfully disbelieving of his plans for the night. Rightly so, but still. The nerve of that brat.
He had made a quick pit stop to ‘pick up snacks’ on the way back and had politely ignored that enviable raised eyebrow of Ye Xiu’s when the items in his bag clinked as they walked. And now, here he was, multiple beers deep and ready to fight.
So he did the most logical thing and pulled up QQ. He scrolled to the right contact and then renamed it in his righteous anger.
Me: Hey, gete online right now.
Me: RIGHT NOW.
Me: I have something very important to say to you.
Me: ah, I see yu’re online. Excellent.
Me: here we go.
Me: Impolitely, FUCK YOU, Wu Xuefeng.
Me: if I weren’t broke as hell, I’d be flying across the world to fight your ass.
Me: then you could use that fancy degree you fucked off to get to put your face bsck together into the picture of guilt and remorse it should rightfully be.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wow.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Hello to you too, Wei Chen.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: I’ve been doing well, thanks. Yes, school has been going well, and I’m really enjoying it. I appreciate you asking. That’s very kind and considerate of you.
Me: no. you get down off your high hirse right now.
Me: at least I know Im dirt for leaving my kid, not even touching on how I left him.
Me: I hate mhyself for it, but I fucking own up to it.
Me: so don’t you go all holier-than-thou on me when you left yurs too.
Me: at least I knew all the people around my kid would take care of him when I fucked off to wallow n my own inadequacy. I’m an assshole but I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t know for a fucking fact that shaotian would be treated like the golden child he was.
Me: so what the fuck is your excuse, huh?
Me: I get needing to go, but how the fuck could you go without making sure that kid would be taken care of?
Me: and don’t give me some bullshit about how he could take vare of himself because we both know that little leaf can but Does Not
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wait, stop, back up. What happened to Qiu-er?
Me: fukin hell, that’s a reminder i din’t need
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Focus, Wei Chen.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Is he okay?
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Did he play Glory too long and collapse from malnutrition?
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: I swear I used to have nightmares about that. Those’ll be back now, I suppose.
Me: relatable
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: But there’s no way Mucheng would let that happen, so that can’t be it.
Me: oh, so you’re assuming everything fine because a nineteen year old grl whose already chosen a career walking in her dead brothers shoes is mentally and emotinally stable and strong enough to make sure her *other* brother doesn’t walk himself into a grave too.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: okay what the actual fuck Wei Chen you’re so out of line
Me: i’ll probably agree with you tomorrow once i’ve slept offf the hangover i’mgoing to have but right now i’m heated enough to feel very justified in ripping you a new one
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Nope. Not good enough. What the hell makes you think you can say that about Mucheng?
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Don’t make *me* need to get on a plane to beat you up.
Me: mucheng is an absolute force. I don’t actually worry about her shes probably handled everything ss healthy as anyone can. but taking care of little leaf should be a fulltime job and she already has one taking care of herself and fighting the battles he lets her join him in
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Accurate. Forgiven.
Me: ou’re welcome to come fight me though if it means you’ll come see this fucking kid in person while you’re here
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Are you in City H? Or are you expecting me to make the trip there after the trip to maim you?
Me: I’m currently drinking my 5th beer in the room leaf set me up in here in the EE building
Me: the plan is to expel all my nonproductive fellings tonight so I cna start fixing this mess tomorrow
Me: afternoon though
Me: the hangover is gonna be brutal
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Clearly.
Me: maybe leaf will sleep in
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Don’t count on it
Me: i won’t. i’m drunk not stupid
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: What exactly are you there to fix?
Me: hell what am I not here to fix is a simpler question
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wei Chen
Me: no i actually don’t even know where to start answering that
Me: i am a very weird mix of furious and sad and numb and i knew something was wrong but how was i to knwo taht everything was wrogn?
Me: i thought it was impossible to not think the world of that kid xuefeng
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: That’s because it’s not.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wei Chen, you’re really scaring me
Me: somehow, all of EE has managed it though
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: what are you talking about
Me: i can’t. It feels lik my heads gonna burst
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: WEI CHEN
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: tell me
Me: watch as many ee matches from season 5 as you can. then you’ll be where i was at this mornign. when you’re done i’ll hopefuly eb sober and have questions to ask about som of the staff here that yo’re best suited to ansqer
You are offline.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Seriously? Watch matches and then I’ll get it?
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: You better be joking, Wei Chen.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: I’ve got classes today I can’t just
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Is Ye Qiu okay? Can you at least tell me that?
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: You’re an asshole.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf is offline.
Wei Chen woke up wanting to destroy the sun. It was monstrous of that ball of gas to shine directly through the blinds, into his eyes and straight into his melting brain. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. If his throat wasn’t so dry that he thought it might tear if he spoke, Wei Chen would never move from this bed. But he desperately needed water. And painkillers.
He shuffled around, swiping the water bottle that sober him had knowingly purchased alongside the beer last night. After draining half the bottle in one go, Wei Chen set it down and grabbed his phone to text Su Mucheng–who was supposed to be returning tonight according to Ye Xiu–and ask where she kept her acetaminophen.
Wei Chen went to put in his passcode but stopped and blinked at the unexpected unread messages. He squinted at the contact name and groaned when he remembered his drunken conversation with Wu Xuefeng. The more he recalled of that conversation, the surer he was that he owed the former vice captain an apology–one he would absolutely not be giving.
He started looking over the messages and grimaced, his headache getting worse with each one he read.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf is online.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing here, Wei Chen. It just seems like early season disharmony.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Okay, the rookies seem to have been promoted to the main team a little too early, but Little Captain’s always been good about training to meet the team’s needs, even when they’re a bit . . . more than in the past.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: No way they’re still not syncing up this many matches into the season. Qiu-er and Mucheng are talented but there’s not such a gap that the rest of the team should still be making these types of errors.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: That’s the point, isn’t it? That’s why you went to City H.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Excellent Era not making it to the finals is just odd to watch. (Also, Zhang Jiale, wow)
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Alright, I see what you mean, and something’s definitely up, but that was not ‘Excellent Era’s self-sabotaging on purpose’ drunkenness. That was something much more serious.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wake up and talk to me, Wei Chen.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: All your messages this morning were about Qiu-er, so it’s not so much a Mucheng issue even though she was affected by the other EE players too.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: You need to wake up and tell me that he’s okay.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: Wake up.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: It’s past noon there and I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago. Wake the fuck up.
Xue-feng’ed Off to America and Abandoned Our Leaf: you better message me before you so much as take a piss
That was a yikes.
And no, he absolutely needed those painkillers before dealing with this. Wu Xuefeng could stand to give up a little sleep to match the nights Wei Chen had spent deliberating if he was overreacting or if he needed to come to City H as much as he thought he did. He messaged Su Mucheng and then sat down to hammer out what he was and wasn’t going to share with Wu Xuefeng.
Su Mucheng: I keep some in my medicine cabinet. My passcode’s 24785 right now. Take what you need!
Su Mucheng: . . .
Su Mucheng: You’re here to help, aren’t you.
Me: Bless you, Mucheng. Sorry for the inconvenience. My head and I both thank you from the bottom of our heart.
Because Wei Chen doesn’t apologize, unless it’s to a woman. Sorry, but not at all sorry, Wu Xuefeng. My apology can be changing his contact name back.
Me: And yeah, I am.
Su Mucheng: Good.
Su Mucheng: Now it’s just making him let you.
Me: We’ll see how it is in the light of day.
Me: But if he’s of the same mindset as when I went to sleep, then he will.
Su Mucheng. Thank you, senior. Truly.
Su Mucheng: See you tonight! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
Starting with Su Mucheng was absolutely the right choice, but Wei Chen couldn’t do more emotion today. He’d already overran his ‘getting choked up’ quota for the year just within the last 24 hours alone. Nope. He was going to 1) get that fucking acetaminophen because holy shit his head, 2) reply to Wu Xuefeng and get the dirt on the trash ass upper management here, because if anybody had blackmail it’d be that guy–politely dangerous people are terrifying– and 3) start writing up a plan to talk to Little Leaf and Little Su about once she got back tonight.
He groaned. Getting up sucked and his body was punishing him for the alcohol. But needs must.
“Distract the cavalry.”
Other than Wei Chen and Su Mucheng’s vague sounds of affirmation, the only noise in the training room was the insistent clicking of moving mouses and the clacking of well-lubed keyboards.
Neither Ye Xiu nor Su Mucheng could remember being this relaxed in an Excellent Era training room in recent memory. They had been unprepared for Wei Chen to grab a guild warlock card, spend 20 minutes scouting first the poorly-kept notes and then the online message boards to find two more competent Excellent Dynasty members who were available and interested in playing with EE staff, and set up a party to run the Western Desert with little to no direction from either of them.
It was also nice to play without hearing the irritated sighs of players who wanted to stop training or didn’t like following the shot caller’s instructions. Wei Chen would bicker and argue if he had an idea on how to use their skills more economically, but he was inherently respectful about it and mostly focused on guiding the guild members that were fighting the Aquamarine Knight with them, even if he did so with an acerbic bite to his corrections. It was pleasantly refreshing for the location.
Wei Chen had tried not to scowl nonstop over the last few hours at Ye Xiu and Su Mucheng’s sheer surprise. Oh, they had both tried to keep it under wraps, but it was obvious that any organizing done when those two were participating was done by Ye Xiu and that it was unpleasant, bordering on awful.
Why the fuck is Excellent Era even paying guild leaders at this point if they’re all just going to force their two best players to do their job out of sheer laziness?
“Setting Sun, covering fire. White Shores, encircle from behind while Gilded Blades engages.”
In playing with him, it was perfectly clear to Wei Chen that Ye Xiu was, if anything, better than he’d been three years ago. The subtle suggestions that he was slipping, getting too old, in some of those match coverage articles were utter and complete bullshit.
Wei Chen had known it, but watching the way Ye Xiu’s mind analyzed every detail of his surroundings and each adjustment his party members made even as they just grinded for materials was humbling.
And, like most everything else he’d discovered since coming here, it pissed him off.
Fortunately, he was a professional, so he was able to finish out the boss fight without issue despite the frustration itching at his joints every time Ye Xiu executed another maneuver that was beautiful in its simple, efficient deadliness.
He managed to thank White Shores and Gilded Blades for joining them and gauge their interest in joining them again in the coming days, which was thankfully high, before Ye Xiu could direct them to continue to the Heshin City Sewers.
“Glad to hear it,” he told the two guild members. “I’ll message you guys tomorrow if I see you’re online when we are.”
Ye Xiu didn’t turn towards him but did ask, “Have you lined up other guild members that you want to rotate in?”
Wei Chen snorted. “You’re ridiculous. No, Little Leaf. I let them go because the three of us are leaving to go get late dinner right now. Pull that card out and get moving,” he said, already shrugging on the jacket he’d draped over the back of his chair earlier.
“Not hungry,” Ye Xiu said even as Su Mucheng had smiled at him and logged out.
“Do I sound like I care? I’ll come pull that card out right now if you don’t do it yourself,” Wei Chen threatened. “It’s early summer and you should technically be on a temporary break from Glory, but I understand why playing today was the right call,” he admitted.
“We got quality hours in and now it’s time to put quality food inside your malnourished husk of a body. We both woke up late, and Su Mucheng has been traveling most of the day. We’re going to eat. Now. Don’t argue.”
And shockingly enough, Ye Xiu didn’t. He just glanced over at Wei Chen’s determined expression and Mucheng’s beaming smile and logged out.
“Lead the way then, old man.”
“Little Su picks since she’s my favorite.”
Su Mucheng’s laugh had both men’s lips quirking up at the sound, and Ye Xiu appreciated the moment enough to not point out that Wei Chen didn’t know a single place to go in this city he hadn’t lived in before.
Over beef noodle soup, Wei Chen broached the topic they’d postponed during the day through mutual, silent agreement.
“Let’s get it out there. There’s a lot of layers to how this all got so fucked,” he said. Ye Xiu nodded slightly while Su Mucheng frowned. “And almost none of them can be tackled immediately.”
Su Mucheng protested, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything.”
“I didn’t say we couldn’t, Little Su. Just that there’s no quick, easy fixes here, which I think you both knew, Ye Xiu probably more so than you.”
Ye Xiu hummed in agreement and took another bite before saying, “I don’t know where to start, really. If you weren’t here, I’d just continue to try and train whoever management brings in or promotes and keep the guild from falling behind.”
“Ah, the old avoidance strategy,” Wei Chen said. “Pretty useless considering it hasn’t worked for the past two years, but what can you expect of a master tactician.”
Su Mucheng’s giggles were the perfect background music to Ye Xiu’s deadpan stare while he ate his noodles with an obnoxious slurp.
“No, there are things we can do, some ideas I’ve been sketching out, but I just wanted to preempt the conversation with the whole ‘we’re not fixing this tonight’ bit.”
“Got it,” said Su Mucheng. “What’s first?”
“While the,” Wei Chen waved his hand at Ye Xiu, “name thing is probably the biggest issue, it’s gonna have to be one of the last things we tackle. Because to resolve that in our favor is either going to take every single all-star account agreeing to boycott the league if you get banned for having a stage name–which is the story that we’re sticking to–or the support of all of EE’s upper management.”
He continued before either of them could point out how unrealistic the latter was. “I know the players unionizing is actually the more likely scenario considering how absolutely every Glory player is obsessed with you in one way or another, but that’s a full-on nightmare that might still not even work if it happened. So, the end goal that we’re working towards is improving the relationship with management because that would put us in the position to fix the name thing, have more say in the workings of the guild and training camp, have more input on the roster, and negotiate a better contract, not to mention stopping the hostility, which wouldn’t surprise me if it became outright harmful in the next year or two.”
“Well,” Su Mucheng said hesitantly while Ye Xiu just looked at Wei Chen like he’d lost his mind. “That all sounds great, Old Wei, but . . .” “But it also sounds impossible,” Ye Xiu finished when Su Mucheng tapered off.
Wei Chen nodded, surprising them both. “Currently, yeah. Absolutely not happening. But, like I said, I’ve got ideas focused on how to improve that relationship without crossing any of the firm boundaries you set in the beginning, kid.”
“First and foremost, we gotta get me hired as a guild leader. I’m not sure my past as a pro player will get me through the door anywhere but Blue Rain. Best bet is having one of you tell HR that I reached out to you about missing Glory and that you want to find a place for your senior. Play the sympathy card. Su Mucheng is more likely to be believable, but we need to improve Ye Xiu’s image with everyone in Excellent Era, so it wouldn’t be awful to have him humanize himself a bit and handle that.”
Su Mucheng looked at Ye Xiu who stared off over Wei Chen’s head for a moment before agreeing. “There’s a woman in HR who’s always been respectful when she’s had to talk to me about some of the new staff. I can drop in on her when she’s back in her office tomorrow morning.”
“Once I’m in, you need to leave the guild to me,” Wei Chen said bluntly, anticipating Ye Xiu’s immediate, “No.”
“Yes,” he insisted. “You’re taking on too much as it is. It’s unsustainable. I get why you’ve done it, but it can’t go on, and it’s taking valuable time away from things you could do that would actually help your situation. Like spending more time in the training camp,” he said, cutting off the additional protests.
“As captain, the training camp is well within your purview. No one could make a valid complaint about you spending time there, especially in the summer,” he said with an even, calm voice Doc would be proud of.
“You need to have a real presence there and mold those kids, or better yet, play in-game and recruit the talent you find to come to the training camp. But have the focus be on building up the future and having them know you, respect you and understand how you communicate. From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like there’s a huge disconnect between you and the other main roster players that Su Mucheng isn’t able to bridge, which is not a fault of yours, Little Su,” he said, smiling weakly at her. “It’s just something we have to acknowledge and work around. And one way to do that is by eliminating that disconnect early with the players you’ll likely have beside you in the next few seasons. Also, your rookies sucked this year and could use your direct teaching,” he said bluntly, daring Ye Xiu to disagree.
The kid’s left eye twitched, but he said, “Fine,” anyway, and Wei Chen took it for the win it was.
“What can I do?” Su Mucheng asked while adding a few pieces of meat to Ye Xiu’s bowl, which he unsuccessfully tried to bat away back to hers.
Wei Chen chuckled at the way Ye Xiu caved instantly in their little battle when Su Mucheng pouted at him.
“Mostly, keep doing what you’re doing. You are already appeasing management with the sponsorships you’ve taken on, and you’re well-liked. My two suggestions are that firstly, when the pro players return, try to socialize with them a little more than you currently do and drag Ye Xiu into it. While they need to respect his authority, they also need to see him as a person, as your brother. It’s a lot harder to be shitty to someone when you see them as a human rather than a God.”
Su Mucheng nodded, a determined look on her face. “I can do that.”
“Do I get a say?” Ye Xiu asked, irritated.
“No,” they both immediately replied.
Su Mucheng patted his hand and then dragged said hand over to his water and looked back and forth between Ye Xiu and the mostly-full glass, intention clear. He sighed and took a small sip followed by another, longer one when she kept looking at him.
“Yeah, exactly like that, Little Su. Great example.”
She beamed at them both, mollifying Ye Xiu’s churlishness. “What else can I do, Old Wei?”
“You could approach management about starting a live-streaming channel. A few up-and-coming players have been doing it for Glory, and other gamers, both pros and amateurs, have made it pretty popular.”
Su Mucheng considered the idea. “How would that help?”
“It would be another possible revenue stream for you and for Excellent Era, which would just generally be a good financial move for you and earn you more good will with management, but it also provides us with the opportunity for Ye Xiu to feature as a guest,” Wei Chen said, hitting on both an important area of the plan and a sore spot.
Ye Xiu scowled at him. “I don’t do publicity. You know that.”
Wei Chen nodded, sliding the water glass closer to Ye Xiu and ignoring Su Mucheng’s amused look. “I do know that. Everyone knows that. And because your Boss and his staff suck, it’s ruining your relationship with the club you built.”
“It’s non-negotiable,” he said, voice and eyes hard.
“I know, Little Leaf.” Wei Chen sighed. “You think I want to ask you to do anything that makes you actually uncomfortable? Because I don’t. And I’d never ask you to show your face or reveal your full identity, but if you don’t give a little, staying in Excellent Era is going to become untenable. And once we reach that point, it’s either transfer or retire. With how things currently stand, that retirement would be well before you’re incapable of playing, considering I don’t even know if we’ve seen your peak yet.”
Ye Xiu watched him explain warily, but the fact the kid was even letting Wei Chen see his unease was already a step up from the closed-off expression of before. Su Mucheng just sat silently, face unreadable but mind clearly whirring.
“And I think all three of us know why you’d refuse to transfer, even if it’s arguably the best solution and each and every team in the league would tear the others apart to sign you if they knew it was an option,” he said, saying the big truth that underlaid this whole dilemma.
With the exception of his name, Ye Xiu could solve each and every problem with Excellent Era today by putting himself up for grabs in the transfer window. Even if he couldn’t afford to pay the fee to do so, Su Mucheng could loan him enough to do it, and it’d be simple to repay her once another team shelled out the money to acquire Ye Qiu.
But that would mean leaving the club that Su Muqiu had a large hand in creating, would mean leaving the site of their dream.
“So we compromise,” Wei Chen said, shrugging, because what else was there to do?
“You feature as a guest on Mucheng’s live streams, but only your voice. Fans get to watch you two interact, they get to know you a little better, and it gets the idea out that Ye Qiu might accept voice work,” he finished. Su Mucheng lit up, seeing where he was going with the idea.
“You could get sponsors for doing voice ads, Xiu-ge! Boss Tao would probably cry in relief,” she said, turning to look at Ye Xiu with big, excited eyes.
“And that’s exactly what we need.” Wei Chen said. “A way to negotiate with him.”
Ye Xiu raised that damn eyebrow and Wei Chen just fully gave in to the jealousy of how smooth that shit looked.
“You can’t cave, not fully. Your privacy is important and you shouldn’t ever have to compromise on that. But you want input and control over the team and performance element of Excellent Era, and he wants to make more money,” Wei Chen explained. “So you’re most likely to get what you want by ‘earning’ it in his eyes, despite the fact you have three rings, and that office has three trophies proving you earned it years ago.” Wei Chen scowled at the reminder, and the piece of Ye Xiu that had hardened at the thought of Old Wei forcing him to do publicity softened.
“My suggestion is to go in and have a conversation with him,” Wei Chen said, walking them through the plan he’d sketched out earlier with Wu Xuefeng. “Tell him you’ve been thinking about what he’s been saying about sponsorships. Tell him that, while you’re still adamant on not showing your face or revealing your identity, you have some ideas of how you can help promote Excellent Era and maintain your privacy at the same time. Most importantly though,” he emphasized, trying to convey his sincerity that this was a dealbreaker. “You tell him that you won’t do anything at all if he can’t respect your firm boundary. Consider being willing to bluff with the idea of transfering, even. He doesn’t have to know it’s a bluff, and the idea of losing you would probably make him piss himself.”
Ye Xiu outright smiled at that despite being hesitant at the idea of giving in to Boss Tao’s increasingly insistent badgering. “So it’d just be some voiceover deals?” He asked, voice hesitant.
Wei Chen frowned. “Not entirely, but all my ideas are along the same lines.” He sighed at the way Ye Xiu stiffened again. “I spent hours this afternoon thinking about this, so let’s see if you two come up with the same things I did. What are the things that fans and media alike get to see or know of Ye Xiu?”
“My play,” Ye Xiu answered immediately.
“The obvious one,” Wei Chen agreed. “And when you’re playing Glory, you’re focused on Glory, as you should be, so that’s not an opportunity we can use.”
Su Mucheng hummed. “His voice,” she said. “Back before Huang Shaotian got voice chat banned, people heard Xiu-ge all the time, and he’s had a few phone interviews before.”
“Yes, exactly, Little Su, which is why working in voiceover makes sense and could be a good avenue to gain sponsorships or do more press over the phone to appease management and the GPA,” Wei Chen praised her. “What else?”
“His hands!” Su Mucheng exclaimed. “The internet is already obsessed with his fingers,” she said, giggling at the stricken look on Ye Xiu’s face.
Wei Chen snorted at the kid who narrowed his eyes at him in response. “Another good catch from Su Mucheng. Getting outclassed here, Ye Xiu. But yeah, he could do some ads that only feature his hands. Gloves, rings, watches, things like that. It’s a little more on the luxury side, but if your Boss is as good as he thinks, he should be able to sell that. And you can again have a firm boundary that you never wear anything sponsored during competition. Around a stadium or while you’re waiting in between stages, but immediately taken off before actual gameplay.”
Wei Chen almost fistpumped at the contemplative look on the kid’s face.
“Anything else? Because you’re missing the last one I settled on earlier,” he teased.
Su Mucheng frowned, pouting slightly as she thought, but it was Ye Xiu who said, “My eyes and facemask.”
“Hmm, I didn’t think about your eyes. But makeup or colored contact lenses could work, honestly,” Wei Chen said consideringly. He shook his head, “something to discuss. But no, exactly, the face mask. That’s like, the big one, the prime real estate. Your plain black mask is notorious at this point, so anything that goes on there is going to get attention. All of the attention,” he stated plainly.
“You get your boss to start a bidding war for who gets to advertise on your mask and re-do it every season, possibly with a separate contract for all-stars, and you’re set,” Wei Chen said. “If he fucks that up or wants more, I’ll fucking beg you to transfer and give that money to another club out of pure spit. Hell,” he spat, working himself up. “You could start your own team with the money that could bring in if you do it right.”
“That’s getting a little ahead of ourselves, don’t you think, old man?” Ye Xiu teased.
Wei Chen paused and then looked at him with pure disgust. “You’re right. I don’t even want to think about what you’d be like at the head of your own team that you had complete control over. Save some competition for the rest of the league. Shaotian would make everyone’s ears bleed with his complaining.”
Su Mucheng cackled at the smirk on her brother’s face and the resulting outrage on Wei Chen’s as Ye Xiu pretended to consider it.
“No! Don’t you even go thinking about it, brat,” he shouted, wagging his finger at Ye Xiu. “I just spent all day working out how to fix this, not to mention having a standoff with Old Wu, who retaliated by telling Fang Shijing that I was out and about. And now I have to bribe him not to tip off Shaotian, otherwise my phone will literally never stop alerting me to a new message from him. So, just, no!”
Su Mucheng felt tears running down her cheeks from laughing so hard, and Ye Xiu’s eyes were shut in mirth as he laughed at Wei Chen’s barely-hidden terror at the idea of Huang Shaotian having confirmation he was not, in fact, dead.
“It’s not funny!” He insisted.
“No,” Ye Xiu said, gasping. “It’s hilarious.” Su Mucheng nodded, still crying and now holding her stomach.
Wei Chen fumed. “I’m also instituting a ‘Take Care of the Moneymaker’ Protocol for you, you fucking brat. Three meals a day, multiple snacks, a set amount of water and movement, and a limit of 4 cigarettes a day.”
Ye Xiu abruptly stopped laughing.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Kid, I absolutely would. It honestly comes directly from Wu Xuefeng, except he said no cigarettes a day.” Ye Xiu’s eyes widened and Wei Chen nodded. “Yeah, I was well aware that wasn’t actually an option. We’ll work our way down.”
Ye Xiu raised both eyebrows this time. “We?”
Wei Chen sighed, thinking of the cloying taste of nicotine and the comforting smell of a freshly-lit cigarette.
“Yeah, we. Can’t ask you to do something I’m not willing to do, and I want to see you healthy more than I want to continue to feed my sweet, sweet nicotine addiction. Plus,” he said, working hard to remain nonchalant at the way this, of all things, had Ye Xiu looking emotional and so very young. “There’s some annoying kids I want to see rise to the peak of Glory, and of their lives in general.” He continued, ignoring the little hiccup he heard from Su Mucheng and the way Ye Xiu looked almost as lost as he did the first time Wei Chen saw him after Su Muqiu’s funeral.
“Gotta make sure I’m healthy enough to be here for that.”
“What do we call it for you though, since you said the protocol is called ‘Take Care of the Moneymaker’ and we all know that face doesn’t make you jack shit,” Ye Xiu said, voice noticeably unsteady but regaining it’s normal tone the more he spoke.
Wei Chen moved his empty bowl and let his head slam down onto the table, hiding his own slightly-wet eyes.
“This fucking brat, I swear to God.”
The light breeze felt incredible on Wei Chen’s overheated skin. The whole summer had been horridly hot, and the slight nicotine withdrawals had only made him feel more uncomfortable as the temperature continued to rise. Ye Xiu looked just as relieved at the fresh air as they both enjoyed the second of their now two allotted cigarettes for the day.
Wei Chen took a second to make his daily appraisal of the younger man. Ye Xiu looked tired still, but it was the kind of tiredness that came with hard work and was also just an intrinsic part of the kid’s personality. It wasn’t the kind of tired that came with eye bags as dark as bruises or bleary eyes or a disregard for personal hygiene. It was just your day-to-day sort of mental wear and tear, and Ye Xiu actually wore it well.
The kid’s hair was clean and recently trimmed thanks to Su Mucheng. He’d put on a couple needed pounds and had a few more muscles from their daily walks and the awful, awful daily push up competition that they both hated but did anyway because they hated losing to each other more. The kid’s skin was still too pale though, since their walks were often in the shade or involved doing laps within the EE building due to the temperature being so atrociously high outside.
Ye Xiu was a little less guarded every week, and standing here on the balcony with just Wei Chen and their tiny cloud of smoke, he was as relaxed as Wei Chen had seen in recent memory. It was honestly surprising how calm and open the kid looked considering the summer officially ended tomorrow and regular practices and training sessions would begin with a vengeance in the morning.
Things were improving with those who had returned early, and the transfers and kids from the training camp were settling in, slowly, but better than Ye Xiu and Su Mucheng said things went last year, but they all had a long way to go before the three of them could stop worrying.
“You better not let the guild crumble now that I’ll be too busy to run it for you, old man.”
Wei Chen looked up at the sky, taking a long drag and shaking his head.
“I’ve been running it just fine for months without your supreme oversight, you fucking brat. Focus on that rag-tag team you’re working with. Some of those rookies are pure trouble. Getting trained by idiots down there,” he threw back.
Ye Xiu huffed, amused despite himself. “I only had two months. There’s only so much even I can do.”
“Shameless. Fucking shameless,” he chuckled.
They let the conversation fade out, and the silence was peaceful as they enjoyed the last few pulls.
It wasn’t until they were both stubbing out their cigarettes that Ye Xiu put a hand on Wei Chen’s shoulder and got him to look Ye Xiu in the eyes. Wei Chen waited, a little surprised but more used to how Ye Xiu functions by now.
The kid took a breath and let it out before saying, “Thank you.”
Wei Chen smiled. “Of course, kid.”
Ye Xiu shook his head, face serious and intense in that way that was so uniquely him. “No, really, Wei Chen, thank you. Thank you for coming here and for making me listen and for staying. Just–Thank you for helping me.”
Wei Chen swallowed and yanked the kid forward, putting one hand on the back of Ye Xiu’s perpetually-messy head and the other around his waist to pull him in for a hug, which Ye Xiu returned surprisingly quickly.
“Thank you for letting me, Little Leaf,” he whispered.
Ye Xiu squeezed him just a little bit tighter before they both disentangled themselves and stepped back. Wei Chen brushed some imaginary ash off his shirt and Ye Xiu cleared his throat.
“It’s the principle of the thing, really,” Wei Chen says once they both gathered themselves. “This is Blue Rain’s year. I can feel it. I couldn’t let them take you down at anything but your best. And even if I don’t get one of them fancy rings, I’ll know I made sure those mouthy, upstart brats earned them.”
Ye Xiu just shook his head, lips curling upwards in the ghost of a smile he got rid of before Wei Chen could see it.
“We’ll have to get you your own ring then, to put those brats in their place.”
Wei Chen looked up at him and grinned, “Sounds like a plan this father approves of.”