A chubby guy’s face showed an indescribable expression.
If one had to put it into words, it looked as if he had just eaten something disgusting.

Meanwhile, the skinny guy grew cocky. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I’m waiting.”
Surrounded by onlookers, the chubby guy had no choice but to give in.

He slowly walked over to Su Heng and the skinny guy, lowering his head. “What I said about liking the ‘菜鸡’ (rookie) team being lame was wrong.”
Su Heng frowned, her voice as cold as ever. “What else?”
The chubby guy couldn’t take it anymore. “I’ve admitted you’re better than me and that GI’s fans aren’t weak. What more do you want?”
Su Heng raised her brow, her expression unreadable.

Did he really think she didn’t catch his implied meaning?
“I told you from the start: all I wanted was for you to take back what you said about GI being trash.” Her expression grew serious. “And I don’t need your approval to prove I’m better than you.”

The chubby guy argued, “Even if you’re a GI fan and beat me, you’re still just you, and GI is still GI. You can’t mix the two.”
Su Heng was getting irritated.

She couldn’t tolerate anyone insulting her team right in front of her.
And even more, she couldn’t stand to see the hard work of Zhou Ling—GI’s player—dismissed so easily.

But no matter how frustrated she was, Su Heng knew she had nothing to say. GI hadn’t achieved anything yet, and that was a fact.

Seeing her stay silent, the chubby guy grew bolder, assuming she was feeling guilty.
“When GI makes it to the S tournament, I’ll admit they’re not trash. But for now, I’m not taking anything back.”

The onlookers voiced their disapproval, and the crowd burst into jeers.
The skinny guy opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but a delicate hand stopped him.

He turned to see Su Heng, who, despite her small stature, had an air of calm authority.
Her refined features held a sense of cool composure, and for a moment, he was stunned into stillness.

Su Heng blocked the skinny guy and smiled. “When GI makes it to the S tournament, where can we find you to make good on your words?”

The chubby guy was surprised by her confidence but didn’t take her seriously. It was just an empty promise to him. With a shrug, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll post it on Weibo as proof. I’ll leave a comment on GI’s official account right now.”

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder. Everyone knew how unreliable promises made on Weibo could be. He clearly didn’t mean to keep his word.

Unexpectedly, Su Heng just nodded calmly. “Alright. Remember what you said.”

Behind her, Xie Hui sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had just been thinking that Su Heng was finally growing more mature, even showing some loyalty. But within minutes, she was being naive again.

If that was the case, what was the point of her solo match with the chubby guy? It was all a waste of effort.

What Xie Hui didn’t know was that after the crowd dispersed, Su Heng quietly pulled out her phone.
She scrolled through the comments under GI’s official post, then shared a specific one.

**[GISleeping]: See you next July. // “Ling relies on looks, Sleeping relies on coasting, and GI has no one who can fight.” P.S.: If GI makes it to the S tournament, I’ll apologize immediately.**

Within half an hour, the comments section exploded.
Some called the commenter brainless, others agreed with him, and still others mocked Su Heng for making a big deal out of nothing.

But Su Heng didn’t respond to any of it. She let them say whatever they wanted.
Time would provide the best answer.

Meanwhile, on an obscure Weibo account, a short video was uploaded.
In the video, only the back of a girl was visible as she played a solo match. Using a basic hero and incomplete runes, she dominated her opponent with near-perfect gameplay.

Within days, the video went viral and topped the search rankings.
Viewers marveled at the girl’s speed and skill, comparing her to professional players.

As speculation about the girl’s identity grew, the comments section buzzed:
**”Wow, her speed is almost on par with Sleeping’s!”**
**”You might be onto something.”**
**”Now that you mention it… From the back, she really does look like Sleeping!”**

“Come on, are you seriously saying you can recognize *Sleeping* just from her back? There are plenty of women with similar builds out there.”
“Someone like *Sleeping*, who vanishes right after competitions and streams for exactly an hour before logging off—are you telling me she would go to an internet café and play solo against others? Sorry, I don’t buy it.”
“Take *Sleeping* home—our girl is a jungle player; how would she even solo mid?”
“Honestly, if the player in that video isn’t *Sleeping*, then we might soon see the second female pro player in the country.”
“Isn’t this overhyped? Annie is such a simple champion—anyone familiar with the game could play like that. And now you’re comparing that to *Sleeping*?”

Since the girl in the nearly ten-minute video never showed her face, all the speculation by netizens amounted to nothing. They flocked to the original poster’s profile, leaving comments to ask for more information, but the poster had gone silent since uploading the video, and there were no further updates.

At FHL’s team base, Du Ruo was in the middle of a match when his phone screen suddenly lit up.

While heading down the lane after buying his items, he glanced at his phone and was quickly drawn to a notification.
**”Internet café girl shows god-level mid-lane skills! Netizens speculate wildly about her identity.”**

Internet café girl?

Du Ruo frowned, a blurry face surfacing in his mind.
After finishing his game, curiosity gnawing at him, he opened the post.

Throughout the ten-minute video, his frown never eased.

To be honest, the gameplay wasn’t particularly outstanding compared to professional players—pretty average, in fact.

What caught his attention was the internet café’s setting, which matched scattered memories in his mind.

Could it really be her?

Conflicted thoughts swirled in his head. After a moment’s hesitation, Du Ruo forwarded the video to Su Mang.
**”Is this the café your sister goes to?”**

Su Mang responded quickly: **”Yeah, I think it is. Why?”**

Even with the answer, Du Ruo didn’t look relieved.
That café… isn’t it near the GI base?

A trace of amusement crossed his face as he shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

No way—it’s just a coincidence, right?

After a long pause, he typed back, **”It’s nothing.”**

—

The day they left for Korea was rainy.

Though the rain wasn’t heavy, the sky remained overcast.

Before boarding, Zhou Lingxing quietly approached Su Heng and handed her a paper cup.
“The coffee shop didn’t have milk, so I got you hot chocolate instead.”

His tone was so casual that it startled the nearby Xiaoban.

Brother Ling has changed—really changed.

The thought of enduring endless displays of affection from these two in the days ahead made Xiaoban feel miserable.

Su Heng accepted the cup and softly thanked him.

Zhou Lingxing glanced at her briefly, then said in a calm voice, “The person in the video is you, isn’t it?”

It was a statement, not a question.

Su Heng didn’t bother hiding it and admitted readily, “Yeah, it’s me.”

Before Zhou Lingxing could respond, Xiaoban exclaimed, “It really was you, sis?! I saw the video and swore to everyone online it wasn’t you!”

The girl’s tone was light and casual. “He said everyone from GI was trash, so I played solo against him.”

She glanced at Zhou Lingxing again but didn’t mention the part where the guy claimed Zhou was only famous because of his looks.

Though it was meant as an insult, Su Heng found it amusing because it wasn’t entirely wrong.

Xiaoban jumped in again, voice filled with anger. “What the heck, I watched that video. With skills like his, how dare he say GI is trash?”

Zhou Lingxing shot him a warning look.

Finally making some progress in his conversation with Su Heng, why was Xiaoban butting in?

Clearing his throat, Zhou Lingxing asked, “Need help? The internet is better at tracking people down than you might think. They could soon figure out it’s you. Didn’t you say you didn’t want that person to know you’re playing professionally?”

Su Heng froze for a moment, her movements stilling briefly.

“If I keep playing professionally, she’ll find out eventually, won’t she?”

Zhou Lingxing raised an eyebrow, about to offer comforting words, but when he saw her serious expression, he changed his mind.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “But I’ll do everything I can to delay that day.”

Xiaoban shuddered all over and hurried to the ticket check. Although he didn’t understand what the two people were talking about, he knew that it was not a place to stay for long.

The young girl’s heart trembled slightly, and she was the first to look away. It seemed she had to speed up her actions; this was really getting hard to handle.

At that moment, Zhou Lingxing had already stood up, picked up both of their backpacks, and walked directly toward the ticket gate. After taking a few steps without hearing anything from behind, he turned around to look at Su Heng, “Let’s go, it’s time to take off.”

Su Heng snapped back to reality and hurried to follow. A faint smile appeared on her face.

Yes, she thought, the future could be dealt with later. If worse came to worst, she still had him.

By the time the group arrived at the dorms of the Korean base, it was already dinnertime. Lao Yu, after dropping his bag, immediately shouted that he wanted to eat Korean food. Since Shen Jianian hadn’t arranged any training for their first day, she nodded in agreement.

Though Wave was actually the most familiar with Korea, when it came to food, even he had to admit defeat to Lao Yu. Before the trip, Lao Yu had already made detailed plans for every meal, which even made Su Heng marvel when she saw his densely packed notebook.

How deep was this man’s belief in food?

Led by Lao Yu, the group navigated through the narrow and winding alleys characteristic of Korean streets and arrived at a restaurant serving Korean-style cheese kimchi bibimbap. The decor was decent, but the space was a bit small, and despite it being only 6 p.m., the place was already packed. Wave, who hated crowds, immediately began to back out.

“There are so many people. By the time we get seated, I could’ve played two ranked games. Let’s find somewhere else,” he suggested.

But before he could retreat, Lao Yu grabbed him with his thick arm, flashed a confident look to the group, and said, “Watch me.”

Without another word, he strode into the restaurant and quickly squeezed his way to the counter. Despite his hefty figure, he moved with surprising agility. Five minutes later, the group was seated in one of the restaurant’s only two private rooms.

When Xiaoban looked at Lao Yu again, his eyes sparkled with admiration. “Yu-ge, how did you manage that?”

Zhou Lingxing glanced at Lao Yu sideways and said casually, “You didn’t use Wave’s name to get in, did you?”

Lao Yu jumped up and vehemently denied it, “I got us this private room fair and square. How is that trickery?”

Sun He raised an eyebrow, teasingly asking, “Oh? Then tell us, what did you do?”

Lao Yu pursed his lips, his voice softening. “This place doesn’t take reservations, so I added the owner on Facebook to ask if we could get a room. It turns out the owner’s a huge esports fan and really loves Wave. So, I told him I’d give him a signed photo of Wave, and he agreed to save us a room.”

Su Heng glanced at Wave’s reddening face, finding it amusing. She couldn’t resist teasing, “I didn’t realize Wave was so popular in Korea.”

Before Wave could respond, there was a knock on the door of the private room. A cute boy slowly peeked in, his eyes bright and gleaming.

“Wave?” he asked expectantly.