By Zephyria 
After this, the club members took an earlier flight back to their home country. Xie Sui stayed with Cen Xian until he was discharged from the hospital, and only then did the two return together.
A few days later, the official Tex account posted an announcement:
[Mole will be taking a break due to a hand injury and will not participate in any matches in the near future. Please look forward to his return.]
Cen Xian didn’t go to the club often because the cast had to stay on for a month. While staying at home, he spent most of his time staring out the window in a daze. Occasionally, he would log into his Glory account. Although his homepage was flooded with messages—too many to read through—most were words of comfort and hopes for his return.
On the Glory forums, discussion posts about Mole remained highly popular. With just a casual glance at the trending topics, Cen Xian could see posts about himself:
【Such a pity about Mole】
【Really a shame】
【If things had continued like this, winning the championship wouldn’t have been a problem】
【I heard it’s a penetrating injury. At this level, his career is probably over, right?】
【Definitely over. But then Shock won’t have a partner anymore】
【To be honest, fellow Glory fans… I think Shock might not even need Mole to win the championship in the future】
【True, lol. It feels like whenever Mole is on the field, Shock’s attention is entirely on him】
【But I still love seeing the two of them together】
Cen Xian closed his laptop.
Half a month after the cast was removed, Cen Xian began attempting functional rehabilitation exercises. He could already manage some simple grasping movements. If he didn’t demand precision or ignored the scar on the back of his hand, he could almost trick himself into believing he was no different from before the injury.
Shock hadn’t participated in any of Tex’s matches these past few days. Surprisingly, he was also absent from the officially announced playoff roster—a event highly valued by all the major Teams. Just as players were specating and wondering about Shock’s recent whereabouts and match schedule…
A week later, a shocking and unexpected news post hit the front page of the Glory forums:
[Latest news! Shock and Mole have both terminated their contracts with Tex Club!]
Though just a few words, it sparked widespread discussion within the Glory community.
After all, Tex had recently become one of the top three Teams in terms of strength, largely thanks to the new blood—Shock and Mole—who had joined less than a year ago. Losing both these renowned players from the PK rankings implied significant losses that went without saying. It also meant that Tex’s meteoric rise would likely be short-lived, and the club would probably decline from now on.
Opinions varied regarding the reason for the contract terminations, but many netizens speculated it was closely related to Mole’s hand injury.
Terminating contracts wasn’t easy, but for the famously profit-driven President Wang to let them go, the two players must have paid a substantial penalty.
Regardless, both players remained coveted prospects in the eyes of major clubs, especially Shock, who was on a strong upward trend and uninjured.
Soon, almost every notable club extended an olive branch to Shock. Although some clubs were also interested in signing Mole, concerns about his hand injury made them cautious, as his recovery was still uncertain.
As expected, Shock turned them all down.
Cen Xian lowered his gaze, watching Xie Sui apply medicine to his wound. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke: “Hasn’t RPI gained quite a reputation recently? Why didn’t you accept their offer?”
Xie Sui held Cen Xian’s fingers, staring at the reddened scar after applying the ointment. His magnetic voice carried a hint of laughter: “Reputation? Since when did that become our criteria for choosing clubs?”
Cen Xian rested his chin on his knees, tilting his head slightly: “The people RPI invited… didn’t include me, right?”
Xie Sui’s movements didn’t pause: “They’re waiting for your injury to heal.”
This time, Cen Xian didn’t respond.
Only during the interval when Xie Sui went to draw the bathwater, Cen Xian sat on the sofa and quietly raised his left hand.
He curled his middle finger. In that moment, the movement pulled at the tendons on the back of his hand, bringing the expected pain that made Cen Xian slightly furrow his brows.
Staring at the gradually darkening window, he fell into prolonged silence.
Winter soon arrived in Lincheng.
Two full months after removing the cast, Cen Xian’s wound had now completely healed. What was once a shocking sight with fresh stitches had faded to just a faint scar, and the tenderness seemed to have faded along with it. Although rehabilitation training had never stopped during these two months, Cen Xian still hadn’t truly launched Glory.
Perhaps deep in his heart, he had already developed a trace of fear that even he was unwilling to acknowledge.
Glory players also noticed something—
Mole’s account hadn’t been logged into for three whole months.
That day, Cen Xian received a call from Chen Li. His mother was currently abroad and asked Cen Xian to return to their old house to retrieve some documents she had left in the storage cabinet and mail them to her.
The old house was in Zhenjin Community near Sixth High School, left vacant and uninhabited for over two years. Because it contained belongings from both parents and some documents that hadn’t been taken in time, plus Chen Li would stay there for a couple nights when returning to the country, the house hadn’t been rented out or sold. Though left unused, regular cleaners still went to maintain it.
Since moving in with Xie Sui, Cen Xian hadn’t returned to the old house for a long time.
The taxi slowly passed by Sixth High School. The food stalls at the school gate had multiplied, forcing vehicles to slow down. Cen Xian looked sideways at the groups of students emerging from the school, their uniforms identical to those from their time.
Through the car window, it felt like returning to high school days.
The taxi continued forward. The former demolition area had now been completely cleared, surrounded by blue construction fences as workers rebuilt it, leaving no trace of what it once looked like.
The car stopped in front of the community. Cen Xian took the keys into the building, rode the elevator, and opened the door. Chen Li’s things weren’t hard to find. Cen Xian placed the folder back in the storage cabinet and sent Chen Li a photo.
After completing everything, Cen Xian lay on the living room sofa, watching the night gradually fall. He spent a long time lost in thought alone, then closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.
Xie Sui.
It felt like briefly escaping reality.
At this moment, there were no competitions, no clubs. He had never left that demolition area and the internet cafe. He was still a student at Sixth High, he still didn’t know Xie Sui.
His hand was still fine.
Cen Xian opened his eyes. The living room remained dim.
He sat up, collected the materials and documents Chen Li had requested, and before leaving, encountered a neighbor taking out trash. They exchanged awkward greetings.
Afterward, instead of taking a taxi away from Zhenjin, he followed the familiar tree-lined path and slowly walked toward the internet cafe at the far corner of the demolition zone.
Although the surrounding storefronts had added breakfast stalls, barbershops, and a few signs he hadn’t seen before, the internet cafe remained exactly as he remembered—its dazzling signboard and red-and-blue decorative lights still shining brightly.
As Cen Xian approached the front desk, the dozing girl suddenly stood up, recognizing him almost instantly: “Cen Xian!”
Cen Xian also recognized her as the girl named Song Zhi. She had grown her hair out, with a few strands of wispy bangs, and was dressed in a blouse and denim skirt. She looked quite different.
Cen Xian was a bit surprised: “Is high school on break already?”
“I’ve already finished the college entrance exams,” Song Zhi said with a smile. “I’m in my first year of university now, and it’s winter break, so I came back to help my dad watch the shop.”
Cen Xian chuckled: “Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t watch the shop alone?”
Song Zhi tilted her chin toward a boy eating instant noodles nearby and grinned: “No worries, my boyfriend’s over there.”
Cen Xian’s membership card had expired, so he paid online instead. He walked to the corner of the internet cafe and paused by the familiar seat.
The login screen for Glory was displayed in the center, showing an ID record he didn’t recognize.
Cen Xian sat down, re-entered his ID and password, and clicked to log in.
Even though it was just a few simple steps, he could feel his palms growing damp with sweat.
Soon, Mole’s gray avatar lit up, indicating he was online.
Within mere seconds, more and more Glory players noticed that Mole had logged back in, flooding his profile page. The world channel’s message board erupted with excitement and awe.
【Mole is online!!!!】
【When, right now?】
【Holy crap, I thought I was seeing things】
【Finally, you’re back T_T】
【Does this mean the tear mole’s hand injury has healed?!】
【Haven’t seen Mole compete in so long】
Cen Xian didn’t linger in the message board. Instead, he went straight into ranked matchmaking. His goal for logging in today was simple and direct. No matter how long he had mentally prepared himself, now that the moment of truth had arrived, he couldn’t help but feel tense.
Had his hand… truly recovered?
The question that had haunted him through countless sleepless nights was about to be answered.
A few seconds later, the screen transitioned. Cen Xian’s perspective shifted from darkness to clarity as he found himself in a corner of the map. The moment his left hand touched the keyboard, familiar sensations and instincts stirred awake in his subconscious.
Instinct drove Mole to begin looting nearby houses and picking up weapons. His playstyle had always been decisive and ruthless, often disregarding his teammates’ survival. Even after extensive training and adjustment at Tex, teamwork remained his weakest point compared to other professional players.
Soon, hearing footsteps approaching, Cen Xian instantly shifted position and aimed.
The moment the enemy appeared, Cen Xian pulled the trigger.
Bang—
No knockdown notification appeared.
Cen Xian froze. By the narrowest margin, he realized his reaction time had slowed by milliseconds, and his recoil control had faltered. He had missed the shot—and exposed his position in the process.
The enemy immediately returned fire. Mole took cover behind a barrier as flickering sparks mixed with shattered stone fragments. Cen Xian pressed his lips together, hearing his own heartbeat grow increasingly heavy.
[Is that Mole on the other side?] [Same question] [Has Little Teardrop Mole returned?] [No way, I just exchanged shots with him – the technique doesn’t feel like Mole’s] [His avatar has a gold badge, only those on the PK leaderboard have that mark]
Cen Xian pressed his lips tighter, his fingertips turning cold beyond control.
He thought he had prepared for all possibilities, but when facing the worst scenario, despair inevitably welled up.
Soon, he took his second shot.
This time, only one floor separated him from the enemy. He pressed forward step by step, yet during the shootout, he watched helplessly as the opponent pulled the trigger first – with perfect accuracy.
In the same second, the system announced – Mole has been downed.
The opponent seemed equally surprised by the ease of it, pausing for two seconds before rushing over to finish the kill and loot the supplies.
Moments later, the public voice channel erupted with the player’s excited voice: “I just took down Mole!! Oh my god, damn, that was actually Mole!! Did anyone see that?”
He continued, talking to himself: “Never mind, it’s fine if no one saw, I recorded it hahaha!”
“I’m posting this on the forums. Does this mean I’ve reached the level of PK leaderboard gods? Damn, if only this were an official PK tournament…”
The match ended abruptly.
Cen Xian remained silent and clicked to queue for the next game.
Three consecutive matches unfolded exactly the same way.
Even during his earliest novice days, he had never suffered such crushing defeats. This confirmed that what he had hoped were mere coincidences had become an unavoidable reality.
Cen Xian exited the ranked match queue. Sitting in the corner of the internet cafe, he stared blankly at his Glory profile page.
He first played Glory during his first year of high school. After his parents’ divorce, his solitary life felt like stagnant water. That was when he developed his first real passion for something. Before he knew it, he had become a veteran player, catching the first wave of esports popularity.
Now, new star players emerged constantly. While some original top players remained firmly positioned – like Ash who held first place on the PK leaderboard, and Greek, captain of the top-tier team – another notable player was Shock, who delivered outstanding performances in various tournaments and received numerous club invitations.
Though never openly discussed between them, Cen Xian knew why Shock rejected all club offers –
Any club wanting to sign Shock must also take Mole.
Cen Xian smiled faintly.
As he lowered his gaze, tears fell, gradually blurring his vision.
He was nobody’s accessory.
Nor was he a useless burden to his partner.
The top twenty players had largely changed over time. Due to his recovery period, Mole had already fallen beyond tenth place. In the coming months, he would undoubtedly drop off the leaderboard entirely.
Perhaps now was the best time to say goodbye.
To Glory, and to Xie Sui.
Cen Xian left the internet cafe.
Even Song Zhi noticed that Brother Cen Xian seemed in low spirits. Though he showed no outward signs, she faintly sensed he had sunk into an unprecedented… melancholy.
Song Zhi didn’t dare ask further.
Cen Xian, who always maintained a cool indifference yet handled everything with ease, was for the first time exuding an aura akin to despair, which indirectly affected those around him.
When Cen Xian returned home, the wall lamp by the entrance illuminated the living room, revealing that someone was there. A shadow cast by the cabinet opposite the entrance enveloped him. As his waist was pulled into an embrace, Cen Xian visibly stiffened, his figure freezing: “Weren’t you supposed to be home for New Year’s?”
“Had to discuss a contract last minute,” Xie Sui leaned in, kissing the corner of his eye where a tear mole rested. “So I came back early.”
Leaning against the entrance, Cen Xian let his coat be taken by the other. “What contract?”
“A club called AUB.”
Xie Sui seemed in high spirits, likely because this Team was the only one he had genuinely taken a liking to in a long time. He said, “Their team atmosphere is good. Though there are many newcomers, their attitudes are sincere, and their skills aren’t bad.”
Hearing Xie Sui’s tone, Cen Xian knew he had already made up his mind. He asked, “When will the contract be signed?”
Xie Sui: “Probably in three days. We need to meet their investor first, but most of the entry conditions and key details are already settled.”
“Though their overall strength might not match Tex’s yet, given their progress, it might take less than a year or two for us to realize our dream of winning the championship again.”
Cen Xian found himself at a loss for words.
Too many changes had happened tonight, making his instinctive reaction not to confide but to evade and conceal. As he was held by the waist and kissed, Cen Xian’s voice came out hoarse: “Congratulations.”
“Congratulations to us,” Xie Sui murmured against his lips.
That night, Cen Xian was pressed against the entranceway by Xie Sui, trembling as he was taken, then in the bathroom, by the floor-to-ceiling window… Despite his recent low spirits, Cen Xian surprisingly did not ask to stop tonight; he even wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and kissed back. Clothes lay scattered at the entrance, and traces of their passion were left throughout the room.
As if burning through one last bout of madness.
The next day.
Cen Xian appeared at the entrance of AUB’s base. Strangely, only Mole was there alone, which surprised the person in charge, but they warmly welcomed the player inside.
Two days later, rumors began circulating in the Glory forum: “Shock and Mole might join AUB Club!” The post didn’t seem fabricated, even detailing some specifics, with claims that they were already at the contract stage.
[Help!! How does AUB deserve this??]
[Honestly, AUB is a good choice. I’ve watched a few of their livestreams—though the starting players are a bit inexperienced, each has distinct strengths, they improve quickly, and the team spirit is great.]
[+1!! I really like AUB!!]
[With two god-tier players joining, I’m betting on them as future champions.]
[Is a team like this really suitable for Mole?]
[…I feel the same. Mole’s weakness is team fights, right?]
[Is it true that when Mole returned last time, he got crushed by high-tier players?]
[Mole is washed up, isn’t he?]
But no one expected that the one to break through in the end would be an obscure newcomer club named AUB.
When Xie Sui met the investor, the latter handed Shock a brand new contract.
Under Xie Sui’s puzzled gaze, the man had no choice but to explain: “There are differences between signing as an individual versus as a duo. Since Mole has decided to withdraw, we have fully agreed to the conditions, benefits, and treatment proposed by Mr. Cen and have revised and added to the contract accordingly. Please review it again.”
Xie Sui’s gaze froze at that moment. The man continued: “Mole decided to withdraw?”
“You didn’t know?” The investor expressed surprise. “Mr. Cen came to the club two days ago and had a private meeting with the person in charge. It was then that he declined the invitation to join the club and also transferred all the conditions and benefits he would have received after joining the team to you. We respected his choice and agreed to everything.”
Shock was stunned.
A few minutes later, he left the café where he had met with the investor. As he walked home, a sense of foreboding gradually rose in his heart, growing stronger and stronger.
Soon, he opened the door to his home and found it empty.
The living room and bedroom remained as they were, yet felt inexplicably vacant.
Xie Sui stood still, his entire body turning cold, when his phone vibrated with a WeChat notification.
He picked it up, his eyes falling on the screen. It was the last two messages from Cen Xian:
“Xie Sui, I’m no longer a player.”
“Let’s end things here.”