“Sheep?”
“Player!!”
“Can you hear us?”
The medical staff half-knelt, shining a small flashlight into Jing Mian’s pupils, repeating, “Can you move your hands and feet? Can you hear me?”
Jing Mian’s eyelashes trembled slightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
He gave a small nod.
“Vital signs are generally stable, but further examination is needed. We’ve called an ambulance. From now on, if you feel any discomfort, you must tell us, okay?…”
“No.”
The boy’s voice cut through the noise.
This time, Jing Mian shook his head firmly, his voice trembling as he repeated softly, almost pleading, “…Don’t leave.”
“Let me finish the match.”
“The organizers have already paused the game.”
“Although there have been precedents before, that time it was because a player had diarrhea. The match was only paused for fifteen minutes at most. It’s already been twelve minutes now. The officials and head referee asked me to check with you—what’s your decision? Should we switch players?”
Xuan Cheng glanced at his watch, then looked toward the backstage passageway.
He remained silent for two seconds, just about to speak, when a figure suddenly ran through the corridor, approaching quickly.
Song Xianyang took off his cap, his forehead drenched in sweat, panting heavily. “Captain, I’ll take over for MianMian.”
“…”
Xuan Cheng took a deep look at the empty seat in the competition area and nodded. “Go ahead.”
Song Xianyang took the team jacket and was about to slip it on when he suddenly sensed a figure brushing past him from behind.
A faint gust of wind stirred in their wake.
Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, the slender figure in a hoodie returned to the vacant gaming chair.
…
The entire venue fell into silence for a good ten seconds.
[He’s back!!]
[Ahhhhhh!!]
[For a moment, I really thought Sheep wouldn’t return…]
[Damn, I overthought it. Turns out it really was just an emergency.]
[So urgent he didn’t even have time to explain—must’ve been really bad.]
[Hahahaha somehow both heartbreaking and hilarious. How’s a player supposed to explain something like this? Usually, players take care of business before matches. Seems like MianMian must’ve eaten something bad.]
[I knew Sheep would never abandon Glory, the game he loves most.]
[The weight’s finally off my chest!! If Sheep hadn’t made it back today, he probably wouldn’t have been able to continue his pro career.]
[What do you mean? What’s the difference between making it back or not?]
[Of course there’s a difference.]
[Quick explanation: one is called a “temporary absence,” the other is called “forfeiting the match.”]
[The first is an unexpected situation, the second is about professional integrity. Gamers can be harsh critics.]
[If Sheep hadn’t been suddenly taken ill and had simply chosen to forfeit, it would’ve meant giving up his entire esports career. All his hard work and passion would’ve turned to dust.]
…
Xuan Cheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
He stared in the direction where Jing Mian had taken his seat, his nerves unconsciously tensing in bewilderment.
The paused game interface resumed the moment the young man put on his headphones. Without wasting a second, the officials and referees promptly announced:
—The match continues!
[This match is pretty much decided.]
[The Mother is down to her last sliver of health. Only one of the two TR. members remains, also on critical HP.]
【Before Sheep returned, Cen Xian could solo the Boss. Now that he’s back, it goes without saying.】
【Speaking of which, the last time someone left mid-match at the national tournament was two seasons ago. The nickname “Diarrhea Blue” didn’t come from nowhere.】
【Oh god, how did the officials handle it later?】
【Fined 10,000 yuan.】
【Damn, 10,000 yuan for a bathroom break. Worth it?】
【Blue: Worth it. So worth it.】
【MianMian: Same here.】
【HAHAHAHA】
【Hurry up, I want to see MianMian one-shot the Boss!!】
After concluding that Sheep left mid-match due to urgent bathroom needs, the atmosphere in the chat shifted from tense and serious to lighthearted. With victory all but guaranteed, the audience even began joking about it.
This seemed like just a minor interlude in the national tournament—fleeting and quickly forgotten, as if nothing had changed.
Cen Xian glanced sideways at Jing Mian, who was raising his hand to put on his Holographic Glasses, and then froze.
Jing Mian’s fingers were trembling.
His exposed gaze seemed lost, distant and desolate.
His pupils were unfocused, water droplets falling from his hair, as if his breathing behind the mask was long and labored.
Cen Xian clenched his teeth and said, “MianMian, stop fighting.”
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.
As the Holographic Glasses reactivated, their vision returned to the pitch-black depths of the forest cave. Weapons were fully stocked, and the Boss loomed nearby.
He said softly, “Brother Cen Xian, let’s begin.”
At the end of this map, only by having the “husband” character personally kill the little girl could they achieve a true, flawless victory.
But in reality, even before Jing Mian left, the outcome of this match had already been decided.
Jing Mian switched weapons. The scarce light in the cave flickered, casting shadows that outlined his character’s silhouette—engulfing the little girl completely.
At this moment, the little girl’s expression twisted into genuine terror.
Because the mother-turned-monster in the distance still had a sliver of health left, the system’s script triggered the girl to cry out:
,”Mommy, hurry!!”
Mommy, hurry.
The same words he had repeated endlessly in the final moments of Song Zhinian’s life echoed in his mind, haunting him for half a lifetime.
The monstrous mother, summoned by the cry, charged out wildly—only to be swiftly cut down by Greek, who had been lying in wait, ending her already weakened existence.
The little girl wailed in that instant, her voice filled with grief and despair.
Realizing there was no hope left, she looked up at Jing Mian, lips trembling as she spoke:
,”What did I do wrong?”
Everything.
Jing Mian stared at her, answering silently.
If he hadn’t asked the driver to change routes that night, if he hadn’t kept urging his mother to hurry before the crash, would their car have avoided colliding with that out-of-control truck at the next intersection?
So why was he the one who survived?
Why only him?
Why hadn’t he died in that accident?
Everyone told him it was the truck driver’s fault—drunk and running a red light. Anyone could’ve been at that intersection. It was a destined tragedy.
So it wasn’t your fault.
…
Jing Mian’s vision blurred.
But how could it not be his fault?
That night, the reason they went to see Jing Guozhen was because Mom noticed her longing and took the initiative to suggest it; because he hated taking the bus, Song Zhinian arranged for Dad’s driver to pick them up; if he hadn’t been so desperate to make friends, he wouldn’t have let his classmates see the photo in his wallet, leading them to that destination that should never have existed.
Every misfortune was sown by his own hands.
He personally killed the only person in the world who loved him.
So he deserved no right to be loved.
But why was it only him?
Why was it only him,
Who remained so fortunate, so unscathed, still alive?
The sounds from the game gradually faded away.
Fine dust floated in the cave like fireflies without light, settling near his feet beside thick, dark stains of blood. In that moment, it felt as if all sound had vanished.
The little girl looked up, her reddened eyes brimming with tears, and asked softly:
,”Are you really going to kill me?”
…
…
“Really.”
Jing Mian’s lips moved slightly.
His voice was almost inaudible.
Two minutes later.
The large screen at the back of the venue changed, and a striking line of text instantly appeared, accompanied by the audience’s thunderous cheers:
,「ME.WIN!!」
The comment section exploded:
【Holy shit】
【AHHHHHHH】
【This is the cleanest boss kill I’ve ever seen—didn’t even give the little girl a chance to turn into a thick-blooded monster. So satisfying to watch】
【Same character, different fate. Blue’s match ended in a miserable loss】
【Gotta say, ever since Sheep joined, facing TR. Team has become a complete landslide】
【Hurry up, I want to see Sheep and Dawn clash in the national tournament!!】
The commentators enthusiastically discussed into the cameras:
“I still remember two years ago, ME.’s first national tournament match was also against TR. Mole couldn’t participate due to a hand injury, and ME. suffered a crushing defeat. For a long time after, they couldn’t advance in the national tournaments.”
“Looking at it now, it’s like a battle of fate.”
“Thank you to the players of ME. Team and TR. Team for bringing us this spectacular match.”
“Let’s congratulate ME.!!”
“Congratulations!!”
…
After the match, Jing Mian was hugged tightly by his teammates, his hair thoroughly ruffled.
ME. Team’s name successfully made it onto the candidate list for the second round of the national tournament—a thrilling and precious first in the team’s history since its founding.
As the celebrations wound down, most of the audience had already left the venue. The backstage passageway saw occasional groups of players walking by, a cool breeze drifting through.
Jing Mian called out, “Captain.”
Xuan Cheng stopped.
The two walked to the side of the passageway.
The dim lighting of the corridor cast shadows over Jing Mian’s hair, each strand distinct, the light beneath his lashes rendering his gaze unfathomable.
“MianMian, just now…”
Jing Mian’s voice was quiet: “Can you… not announce my condition?”
For a moment, Xuan Cheng’s throat tightened.
He took off his own cap and placed it on Jing Mian’s head, pressing it down slightly. “I understand.”
“MianMian.”
Xuan Cheng lowered his voice:
“You helped me—helped ME. win this match.”
“I’ve never regretted signing you.”
Xuan Cheng looked at the brim of the cap and said slowly, “That still holds true now.”
Jing Mian pressed his lips together, his lashes lowering. For a long while, he didn’t speak.
“Brother Xuan Cheng.”
“Hmm?”
“Did the officials mention what penalty I might face if I left without a valid reason?”
Xuan Cheng: “They haven’t said yet.”
“But based on past experiences, it’s likely a fine of ten thousand yuan.”
Xuan Cheng ruffled Jing Mian’s hair: “Don’t worry about that. Speaking of which, you were our Team’s MVP in the first match of the national tournament.”
“Without you, we might have lost the prize money for the first match. How could I let my greatest contributor pay a fine?”
Jing Mian’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t smile.
After two seconds of silence, he asked quietly: “Does it have to be paid in cash?”
Xuan Cheng scratched his head: “Probably.”
“But that’s for later. You should go rest now. The upcoming matches will be a marathon, you need to conserve your energy and take care of yourself.”
Jing Mian nodded: “Okay.”
He said softly:
“Thank you, Captain.”