Chapter One

FKW’s new headquarters. A young, inexperienced reporter asked the manager of this prestigious club’s squad, “How did FKW originally discover South, the genius top laner?”

If the reporter had any inkling about the league’s history, he wouldn’t have asked such a question. But he’d only been in the industry for less than half a month and knew nothing of FKW’s dark, infamous past.

The manager, dressed in a sharp suit, brightened at the question, then realized his excitement and cleared his throat. “Well, it all started three years ago, when FKW won the championship and I forced the players to stream.”

Three years ago, Nanqiao Stadium.

A hundred thousand seats packed to capacity, the crowd forming a dense honeycomb when viewed from above. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the central screen, holding their breath for the annual finals of Descend.

Descend was the hottest MOBA game at the time, with over a hundred million players online globally. This match would not only decide the S13 world champion, but also whether Chi Yu could claim his third crown.

A young commentator spoke nervously, “This is Chi God’s seventh year competing. I wonder if he can win this match and achieve the miracle of three championships in seven years?”

Beside him, the veteran commentator sighed. “The Korean team is stronger overall, and their gold lead is so big. There’s not much hope this year.”

The rookie commentator felt embarrassed watching his composed colleague.

Truly a veteran! So professional in analyzing the match—he still had so much to learn.

That thought had barely crossed his mind when a faint clicking sound reached his ears—easy to miss amidst the fierce fighting by the Dragon Pit.

It was Chi Yu’s Viper entering the fray!

No one knew how long Viper had been waiting. The moment he entered, a powerful shockwave erupted, freezing the tense battlefield. In one swift move, he eliminated the enemy team!

The veteran commentator immediately changed his tune. “Just as I said before—no matter how strong the Korean team is, no matter how far ahead in gold, it’s nothing compared to us!”

Wait a minute!

Weren’t you just saying there was no hope?

The rookie commentator was dazed. When FKW clinched the win, the entire stadium erupted in thunderous cheers, echoing to the heavens.

The comments section of FKW’s official account exploded.

[Daddy’s Money] Three crowns ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

[Innocent Little Turkey] Chi God is so oppressive—viewing the match from the opponent’s perspective is pure despair.

[Taro Soufflé] Did anyone notice in the last game? The opponents thought FKW was going for the Dragon and relaxed their guard at the pit, but their true target was themselves.

[Eight-pack Abs Picking Wild Veggies] I noticed! The Korean team actually had a decent chance—their mid-jungle synergy was top-notch, their teamfights solid, but Chi God was simply too strong.

[Charming Widower] This is Chi God’s style. Rather than risking the Dragon, he prefers to keep control firmly in his own hands.

FKW was one of the oldest teams, with most fans following since launch. Their match analysis was sharp and thorough, but one user stood out with a pink cartoon avatar.

[South] That move was insane!

[South] Husband, you’re amazing!

[South] I want to be Chi Yu’s navel orange.

The crowd had mixed feelings seeing such comments, and when they clicked into the profile and saw the gender marked as male, their feelings became even more complicated.

It wasn’t prejudice against Nantong—upon clicking, it turned out to be a small-time streamer. How did someone like that have fans?

[Mango Ice] The pinker your avatar, the wilder your comments, huh?

[Mulberry Ice Tangyuan] Your underwear is about to fly onto my face.

[Eighty-year-old Mid Laner Wants to Go Pro] Dude, put some pants on. Imagine taking your pants off in front of Chi God—if you’re not embarrassed, I am for you.

Netizens earnestly advised him to delete the comments, but after seeing his reply, they fell silent.

[South] ...Do I need to wear pants to see Chi God???

Amidst the silence, the computer screen flashed with new messages. A slender, pale hand gripped the mouse; a dark jacket covered the wrist, making the translucent wristbone appear even finer.

Following the jacket upward, contrary to everyone’s expectations, was an exceptionally beautiful face. Silver-white cropped hair, the ends brushing lightly over pale apricot eyes. Full, glossy lips perfectly shaped for kissing, like a soft northern titmouse.

He looked impossibly well-behaved.

It was Halloween. Ning Nanzhou, sipping cheap milk, watched the finals replay with relish. He’d liked Chi Yu for three years—rounding up, that was a golden anniversary. What harm was there in leaving a few comments?

He adjusted his pale cuffs just as his phone rang. The deliveryman’s voice came through, “Hey, your food’s here.”

Reluctantly, he closed his laptop and headed out.

He was a freshman at Hu University. The school was decent in other respects, always battling its neighbor for a spot in the top three, but the takeout pick-up point was ridiculously far from the dorms—supposedly for ‘systematic management.’

He suspected it was to boost cafeteria profits. After all, Hu University’s cafeteria was notoriously... indescribable. No matter what chef arrived, everything ended up resembling ‘Stargazing Pie,’ worse than boiled vegetables.

Thinking of the cafeteria’s agony, Ning Nanzhou hurriedly zipped up his jacket and went downstairs, pushing the comment incident from his mind.

Chi Yu never checked Weibo; the account was managed by the club. No way he’d see it.

—

The stadium remained packed long after the match ended. Security’s pleas were useless—a hundred, a thousand fans blocked the exits, hoping for autographs.

A gray van discreetly parked at the side entrance. The entire FKW squad boarded after interviews. The top laner, Qin Yong, was still riding high from praise, unable to hide his pride.

“Before the match, I thought the Korean team was something special, but they’re not. Their top laner was stuck under his tower against me, and I solo-killed him several times in teamfights. Even a minion was more useful than him.”

Though a bit exaggerated, he’d performed well—his kills just behind Chi Yu, his participation and average damage beyond question, even earning MVP in the second game.

Before the championship, he’d been among the top domestic top laners; now, he was indisputably the best in China.

Those hosts who once ignored him now respectfully called him Brother Qin.

A flat voice interrupted, “The opponent wasn’t as weak as you claim.”

“And you were too greedy in teamfights. In the third game, you entered the Dragon Pit without any vision—if Xiao Qiao hadn’t saved you, the match would have ended early. This isn’t the first time you’ve made such mistakes.”

Being criticized in front of everyone, Qin Yong’s expression shifted rapidly, solidifying his resolve not to renew his contract.

FKW’s manager, Song Mingjie, hurried to smooth things over. “Alright, let’s not talk about it now. We’ve all worked hard for the championship. Old Cheng booked a private room at Bei Ji Hotpot. Eat well, have fun—everything’s on the club!”

The others quickly changed the subject, easing the tense atmosphere.

Song Mingjie wiped his brow, glancing at Chi Yu through the rearview mirror.

The young man was striking—long, jet-black hair falling to his waist, pupils dark as ink from the Song Dynasty, a faint mole at the corner of his eye softening his icy demeanor.

Yet, he only shifted from looking like an iceberg to looking like a slightly less cold iceberg.

Song Mingjie had known Chi Yu nearly five years. Their relationship was good, but Chi Yu was too focused on the game—always training or reviewing matches. Getting him to do anything else was nearly impossible.

Thinking of the club’s request, Song Mingjie’s headache grew.

He waited until they got off the van to call out, “There’s an event today.”

He knew Chi Yu wouldn’t be interested, so he enthusiastically pitched it. “This event is a collaboration with Weibo. Just pick some fan comments to reply to—no need to show your face. It’ll only take ten minutes!”

But the man in the seat ignored him and got off, clearly uninterested.

Song Mingjie quickly pulled out his phone, showing Chi Yu the comments. “Chi Bro! Captain Chi! Chi God!”

“Even if you don’t do it for the club, do it for the fans. It’s been ages since you logged onto Weibo. Look how insightful their analyses are.”

Song Mingjie had read the comments before.

FKW’s fans were different from other teams’. While others just cheered their favorite players, FKW’s fans could recap the entire match, dissecting every detail.

He genuinely admired some of them—they could reverse-engineer tactics after the match. Though no one guessed all of Chi Yu’s strategy, getting five or six parts right was impressive, considering Chi Yu was famously cunning among the league.

Everyone knew—those who devised tactics had the darkest hearts.

Something Song Mingjie said must have moved Chi Yu. He watched Chi Yu take the phone and sighed in relief, only for Chi Yu to calmly read out a comment—

“Want to be Chi Yu’s... navel orange?”

And the person picking up their food sneezed.