Chapter 1: Face Me

At the end of March, the final day of the PUBG Spring Championship’s weekly finals had arrived.

It was past five o’clock when a sleek Mercedes-Benz slowly came to a stop in front of the e-sports arena at the Broadcasting and Production Center.

A group of staff members rushed forward, spreading their arms as if to offer an escort.

Through the tinted windows, everyone was curious about who could be inside. After all, all the competing teams had already entered an hour earlier.

The car door opened, and a young man, carrying a backpack slung over one shoulder, stepped out, unfolding his long legs as he exited the car.

Nearby fans were the first to erupt in screams, their excitement spreading outward, causing the entire crowd to buzz with excitement.

Those standing further back had their view blocked by the raised support signs, unable to see what was happening.

One guy, perplexed by the fuss, asked, “Who is it that’s making such a flashy entrance? Not even Tan Shen¹ would get this much hype.”

A girl ahead of him excitedly turned around, “It is Tan Shen! Tan Shen’s here!!!”

The guy, who had been unimpressed just moments ago, immediately changed his tune and roared, “Talk²! Tan Shen! Aaaaah— Tan Shen! I love you! Aaaah—!!!”

The man, surrounded by the crowd, kept his head down as he was escorted by staff through Gate 1 of the venue. As he walked through the corridor, the setting sun cast a streak of orange-pink across his prominent nose, but it did nothing to soften his skin, which was cold to the point of being almost pale.

At the VIP entrance on the other side of the plaza, a young man with creamy white hair paused, looking back at the crowd shouting “Talk!” in unison.

It wasn’t until the ticket inspector gently reminded him that the young man snapped out of it, took the ticket with the stub torn off, and walked towards the green passage leading directly into the venue.

WLG’s team sniper, Xiao Pai, was stuffing himself with a burger, but even from the lounge, he could hear the uproar outside. He looked up and asked, “Did Tan Mo arrive?”

The coach didn’t even have to think about it: “Can you find another man in the entire esports scene who can make an entrance and create a celebrity vibe like that?”

Xiao Pai relaxed and said, “With Dad Talk here, I could play this game blindfolded.”

The next second, the coach pried Xiao Pai’s eyes open forcefully. “Close your eyes, my foot! Keep those eyes wide open and play properly! Look at what a mess your results are when Tan Mo’s not around! Out of the twenty-four participating teams, where are we now? First place! From the bottom!”

“Ah! Ouch, ouch, that hurts!!!”

As the team manager walked in, he heard Xiao Pai’s agonized wail and snapped, “Shush! Stop yelling!”

Right behind him, Tan Mo entered the room.

Everyone looked over. The dashing man placed his backpack on a table by the wall, shrugged off his windbreaker with one hand, and pulled out his team jacket from the bag with the other, putting it on.

Apart from the ever-present pallor of fatigue, he seemed perfectly fine.

“A-Mo… maybe you should let the substitute play this time?”

The coach watched him closely for a while before hesitantly suggesting.

Tan Mo zipped up his jacket, his eyelids drooping slightly, and responded with just two words:

“Trust me.”

Sang Ye entered the venue a bit late and didn’t notice that several young women were peeking at him as he passed by.

He compared the seat number on his ticket and saw that someone was sitting in his seat, which was right in the center of the second row. A guy had his arm draped over the shoulder of a girl next to him, looking around at the passing audience.

As Sang Ye walked toward the middle, he gradually caught part of their conversation.

The girl said, “Come on, go sit in your own seat. Who’s going to give up their middle seat for you?”

The guy replied, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. My seat is just two over, switching won’t affect anyone’s view. Plus, if that person knows we’re a couple and still won’t switch, they’re just trying to split us up. That’d be so rude, right?”

Sang Ye noticed that seat number 16 was directly under the central air vent and stopped walking.

The guy was sitting in seat 15 and glanced to the side.

There, he saw a young man with striking³ white hair, so handsome it was almost refreshing. The young man checked his ticket, then looked up at the vent, frowning slightly.

It seemed like he didn’t like the idea of sitting directly under the air conditioning.

Sure enough, the young man spoke: “Excuse me, would you mind switching seats?”

Without hesitation, the guy waved his hand dismissively: “Not convenient, sorry!”

He had been eyeing that seat for a while.

The young man glanced at his ticket again and looked down at him: “Sorry, but you’re sitting in my seat.”

“…”

The guy was speechless.

After a long pause, he pointed at the girl beside him: “I… she… we’re a couple, and—”

But under the young man’s calm gaze, he couldn’t manage to finish his sentence.

With a heavy sigh of frustration, the guy grudgingly got up and left.

Sang Ye took off his backpack and sat down heavily.

Claiming the moral high ground? Moral blackmail? Get out of here.

He’d fought for this seat at 2 a.m. when the tickets went on sale, so why should he give it up to a couple?

As everyone settled in, the large screen on the stage began playing the promotional video for the Spring Tournament.

The audience gradually quieted down.

The girl sitting in seat 16 next to Sang Ye was fanning herself with one hand while spraying hydrating mist onto her face with the other. “I finally managed to snag a seat, and it’s right under the air conditioner! My makeup’s about to crack!”

She’d put a lot of effort into her makeup before leaving the house, but no matter how waterproof it was, even the best products couldn’t withstand that much mist. Her eye makeup was already starting to smudge like panda eyes.

Understanding that girls like to look their best when they go out, especially to take selfies for social media, Sang Ye put away his iPad and tilted his head toward her: “Let’s switch seats.”

The girl was stunned for a moment, feeling touched. She pointed at the air vent above her: “But what about you?”

Sang Ye was already bent over, getting up: “It’s fine. I’ve got thick skin.”

“…”

The young man’s face was so pale and delicate it seemed like you could pinch water out of it. He couldn’t have been further from the phrase “thick-skinned.”

The girl, overwhelmed with gratitude, thanked him repeatedly.

Sang Ye moved to a new seat, and the guy from the couple he had previously encountered was now seated to his left.

Feeling a bit put out for having been outmaneuvered by the young man, the guy asked, “High school student, huh? Don’t you have school tomorrow morning?”

Sang Ye didn’t even look up as he opened his tablet: “Can’t afford high school.”

The guy was taken aback and then burst out laughing, “Don’t play dumb. You bought a VIP seat for 2,600 Yuan, and you’re telling me you can’t afford high school?”

Sang Ye replied, “Not enough credits, can’t afford it.”

“…”

The conversation was not going anywhere.

The air conditioning in the venue was intense, and after a while, Sang Ye found it uncomfortable and took off his heavy jacket.

At that moment, the lights dimmed, and a beam of light focused on the center of the stage. The passionate voice of the commentator echoed through the large venue:

“Dear audience, welcome to the second match day of the fourth week of the PCL Spring Tournament!”

The competing teams walked onto the stage from the side and headed straight for the competition area, greeted by enthusiastic applause and cheers.

The camera crane moved widely, capturing the scene, which was broadcast live on the massive LED screens throughout the venue. The audience, excited and lively, was adorned with flashing support banners that rose and fell in waves.

The camera panned around, then focused on the lucky audience members.

Seeing their faces on the giant screen in the center of the stage, some people shyly ducked, some waved enthusiastically, and others, bold as ever, blew kisses to the camera.

Taking advantage of this, the commentators engaged the audience with lively banter, while allowing each team sufficient time for pre-match preparations.

WLG’s team manager stood at the side of the stage, watching Tan Mo put on his headset, struggling to resist the urge to pull him off the stage.

“He had another dream last night,” the manager said.

A voice suddenly cut in beside him.

Turning to look, he saw the team doctor.

The manager hesitated, “Still dreaming about… the same forest?”

“It’s been a month straight,” the team doctor warned, “In his current state, he shouldn’t even be here.”

The manager frowned in frustration, “I’ve tried to persuade him. He won’t listen.”

After watching the stage for a moment, the team doctor pulled something from his pocket and discreetly handed it to the manager, keeping his gaze steady: “Watch his condition. If it gets really bad… this might help.”

Confused, the manager opened his hand to look.

He was handed a bottle of medicine with the label torn off. The white plastic gleamed under the lights, revealing a shadowy color.

The director of broadcasting scanned several rows of the audience and seemed to suddenly notice something. The camera crane swung back around and zoomed in on the second row, closer to the stage.

The atmosphere in the venue shifted.

The selected young man had striking creamy white-colored hair, his head lowered, wearing only a clean short-sleeve T-shirt that revealed his delicate, white collarbone.

Just his silhouette alone was enough to set the mood.

The guy next to him, excited, nudged his neighbor: “Hey! Hey! You’re on the screen!”

Sang Ye instinctively looked up—

A world-weary, unconventional beauty’s face dominated the giant screen.

The audience erupted into high-pitched screams.

Female commentator: “This young man is so handsome, even this old aunt feels like her heart has been pierced.”

Male commentator: “He really is good-looking… I just remembered, he seems to be a signed streamer on the Maoya platform.”

Female commentator: “Hmm? Is there something we don’t know?”

The guy next to Sang Ye was stunned, his worldview collapsing as he looked at Sang Ye.

This kid, who looked under eighteen, was actually a streamer?!

Male commentator: “His ID is [Song], and he’s from Shanghai. Last month, Maoya’s gaming section held a beauty contest with separate voting for male and female streamers. Somehow, a mischievous fan submitted Song’s livestream screenshot into the female streamer candidate pool. As a result, his votes skyrocketed, and he won first place, while the winner of the male streamer category was naturally [Talk]. The even funnier part is that their photos were displayed side by side on the homepage banner. By the time the staff realized the gender mix-up and urgently took down the promotion, a full day had passed.”

The audience burst into laughter.

Sang Ye, however, was unfazed. He held a stylus in one hand, scribbling on his tablet, his expression aloof and indifferent.

In reality, the commentators didn’t mention everything. Besides the initial reviewers having poor eyesight, Sang Ye’s success among female streamers was also closely tied to every rebellious netizen.

Sang Ye’s livestream photo was indeed poorly taken but still looked good. However, viewers weren’t blind; they recognized he was a male. Yet, knowing he was a male seemed to excite them even more. They voted enthusiastically, propelling Sang Ye from mid-tier rankings to the title of “Most Beautiful Goddess.”

So this voting was purely a prank, with no intention of disparaging female streamers, and everyone had a good laugh at the result.

“I wonder if Talk still remembers this young man who was featured alongside him on the homepage banner? Is Talk watching right now?”

The female commentator suddenly wanted to involve Talk, and Sang Ye’s breath caught. He quickly looked up at the front.

Everyone noticed oddly that the cool guy who had seemed so aloof just moments ago now had his clear eyes trembling, and his pale skin flushed with color.

Xiao Pai glanced at the LED screen and whistled: “Indeed, as expected of a face-value tyrant⁴, Tan Shen, don’t you even take a look?”

Just then, the director switched the camera to the player area.

Talk appeared on the screen, and upon being called out, he lifted his eyes to look forward.

The director then cleverly switched back to the audience.

The intention was to show Talk the young man.

However, the young man had already raised his tablet to cover his face the instant Talk looked up.

So when Talk glanced at the screen, all he saw was a tablet.

Talk’s expression changed subtly before he quickly looked away and continued adjusting game parameters.

Sang Ye, noticing the sudden wave of screams, realized something was off and looked closely.

Oh no!

He had held the tablet the wrong way!

The support message he had been scribbling on the tablet, which he hadn’t had time to finish, was now exposed to everyone:

[WLG Never Gives Up, Talk Face-to-Face with Thousands⁵]

The male commentator pondered and boldly guessed, “So that character is—me?”

“!!!” Sang Ye froze in his seat.

He meant to write “Talk Face-to-Face with the Enemy.”

The Enemy!

Enemy!!!

Me…

“Can say such bold and wild words…” the female commentator subtly added, “Could he be – Talk’s wife fan⁶?”

Sang Ye: “…………”

Author’s Note:

Tan Mo: Be confident, just drop the ‘fan‘ part.

Note :

1.“Tan Shen” (谈神) is a nickname that combines the surname “Tan” (谈) with the Chinese word “Shen” (神), which means “God.” In this context, “Tan Shen” likely refers to a character who is highly skilled or revered, particularly in esports or gaming, where “Shen” is used to express admiration or respect, as in “God-level” talent. ↩︎

“Talk” is Tan Shen’s in-game name ↩︎

“Striking” means impressive, noticeable, or attracting attention. ↩︎

face-value tyrant (a slang term for someone who is extremely good-looking) ↩︎

Talk Face-to-Face with Thousands: Talk should confront or face challenges directly, implying courage and confidence in dealing with a large number of opponents or challenges. ↩︎

6.“Wife fan” is a slang term used to describe a fan who is extremely devoted to a male celebrity, often to the point of obsession. It’s a more playful and exaggerated way to say “super fan” or “die-hard fan.” ↩︎

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