WTYB CH 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The mid lane is indeed strong

His teammates were still locked in fierce battles in the league, with the sounds of keyboards clicking and shouts filling the air.

Jiang Xian was half-reclined in his gaming chair, leisurely scrolling through his phone and opening the memo app. He paused, about to add “Rabbit is Super Fierce” as a friend, when a thought struck him. He then opened Green Bubble^[1].

Xian: Do you have a Master-level account that specializes in playing support? With a high hidden MMR^[2].

At that time, in the night market, Coach Lin of the VOR team was sitting in front of a street stall, enjoying his rice noodles.

When he saw the message from Green Bubble, he casually clicked on it and was immediately filled with question marks.

Shuang Mu Cheng Lin^[3]: ?? What do you need an auxiliary account for?

Xian: Don’t ask too many questions, do you have it or not?

Shuang Mu Cheng Lin: It’s quite a coincidence that we recently had a few smurf accounts^[4] from the youth training team come up.

Coach Lin didn’t ask any more questions, but instead sent a screenshot of the account.

Xian: Thanks.

Jiang Xian compared the screenshot with the account information and quickly entered it into the client. A moment later, an account named ‘Self-Isolated Little Mushroom’ successfully logged in. He then entered “Rabbit is Super Fierce” in the friend search bar and clicked on the other party’s profile.

In just three short hours since the crash, “Rabbit is Super Fierce” has rapidly climbed from Diamond IV to Diamond II.

This undoubtedly demonstrates the terrifying skill of the player behind the scenes, who almost single-handedly carried the entire game’s outcome in every match, with each game lasting less than 20 minutes, showing perfect control of the pace.

As expected, flipping through the match history, a whole page was filled with the MVP badges of the winning team.

Jiang Xian clicked the ‘Request to Add Friend’ button without hesitation, and then began leisurely munching on sunflower seeds.

Five minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and “Rabbit is super fierce” remained silent.

Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and the “Rabbit is Super Fierce” section fell silent.

Twenty minutes slipped by quietly, and “Rabbit is Super Fierce” remained as steady as Mount Tai.

Jiang Xian put down the sunflower seeds, sat up straight, and refreshed the “Rabbit is Super Fierce” battle record page.

Okay, another win. His friend request was completely ignored.

If soft methods don’t work, then use money to solve the problem. Jiang Xian, keep up the good work!

Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: Master, do you accept any service? Price is not an issue.

Within three seconds, Jiang Xian received a system message.

(Bunny is super fierce and has accepted your friend request. You can start chatting now.)

Rabbit is super fierce: 70 per hour, no microphone, no entertainment orders.

Self-isolated Mushroom: Sure, do you play mid lane?

Rabbit is super fierce: Yes, add “Eclipse”.

Rabbit is super fierce: The boss’s account won’t add people, I’ll delete.

Self-isolated Mushroom: Okay! (Red exclamation mark)

The last message was not sent successfully.

Jiang Xian, whose message was deleted instantly and who had never booked a game companion before, “…?”

Unlike Xu Du, who was playing games with clients, he logged into his Eclipse account and accepted what was presumably the friend request from his boss, Jiang Xian.

Eclipse: The payment code is in profile card album. The deposit is 20, and it is non-refundable if you cancel the order.

Xu Du didn’t have to wait long before the payment confirmation message arrived along with a message from self-isolated Mushroom.

Self-isolating Little Mushroom: I’ve already paid.

Eclipse: What time tomorrow?

Autistic Mushroom: Can we play at 1 PM?

Eclipse: Okay.

Self-isolating Little Mushroom: Okay, see you at 1 PM tomorrow! (Cute)

Xu Du didn’t reply to Little Mushroom anymore and switched back to Rabbit’s Fierce account to continue ranking up.

Night quickly faded, the sky turned white, and the first rays of dawn pierced through.

Xu Du, who had stayed up half the night, curled up in his gaming chair, his head drooping against the back of the chair as he dozed off.

The receptionist walked around the computer case and patted him lightly on the shoulder twice, “Sir, sir?”

Xu Du’s shoulders stiffened, and the gaming chair made a soft scraping sound. He lowered his head and reached for his phone on the table.

The screen lights up—8:58. On the lock screen, Little Mushroom sends a goodnight message at 3 a.m., with a fox with drooping ears.

Seeing that he had regained consciousness, the receptionist reminded him, “Sir, your overnight subscription expires at nine o’clock. Do you wish to renew it?”

“Do you have any private rooms?” Xu Du asked. “I’d like to extend my stay for two more days.”

“Yes, sir, please pay here.”

The private room wasn’t large, but it was very clean and tidy.

With a few hours left before the agreed time with “Self-isolating Little Mushroom,” Xu Du had nothing to do and decided to consolidate his newly successful live stream.

The account “Rabbit is Super Fierce” only needs about five more games to reach the Master rank. After a moment’s thought, he decided to stream his climb to the next rank.

After obtaining the original account owner’s consent, Xu Du started the live stream.

[Caught a Du Zai^[5] user secretly livestreaming early this morning!]

[Why did Zaizai suddenly end his live stream yesterday? Did something happen?]

[To the lady above, I also want to ask! I heard a really loud banging on the door yesterday, is Zai alright?]

Those who flood into the live stream the moment it starts are usually regular fans of the live stream.

Xu Du glanced at the comments and replied with a softened expression, “It’s okay, I’ll use the boss’s account to reach Master level today.”

It has been more than half a month since Xu Du started live streaming, and his fans can guess from his simple live streaming equipment that he comes from a poor family. Therefore, the audience in the live stream is already used to him using his boss’s account to live stream.

[Thank you for the order, boss! You’re so generous!]

[I want to see the streamer play Zed (starry-eyed)]

[But doesn’t anyone else find the streamer’s account name a little familiar…?]

[!!! Isn’t this the same ID that played with Xian God yesterday?!]

The chat room suddenly erupted in excitement.

[What?! Is that the same god I know?!]

[Who else deserves the title of “Xian God”? Yesterday, the “Xian God” ran into the streamer in his first game on his smurf account.]

[I remember now, I remember everything. Xian God was worried about affecting the streamer’s gaming experience, so they specifically told everyone not to disturb the streamer.]

[Link to yesterday’s live stream highlights]

Xu Du’s breath hitched. The exclamation marks on the screen made his eyes burn. He trembled slightly as he clicked on the link posted by a fan on his phone.

On the phone screen, a man leans back in a gaming chair. The light outlines his sharply defined features: long, narrow, slightly upturned phoenix eyes beneath short, jet-black hair; a high, straight nose; and thin, slightly curved lips.

The man is none other than Jiang Xian, who is currently recognized as the pinnacle of jungling in China.

On the screen, Jiang Xian half-closed his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the comments, and chuckled softly, “The mid lane is indeed strong.”

Upon seeing this, Xu Du unconsciously slowed his breathing, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

He stared blankly at Jiang Xian on the screen for a few seconds, then quickly turned on his phone’s camera.

The newly generated video was dragged into a private album, lying alongside footage from the past three years: mid-lane hero skills and mechanics, laning techniques, mistake analysis, and… Jiang Xian’s various highlight recordings.

Seeing that Xu Du had not made any move for a long time, the viewers in the live broadcast room offered appropriate reminders.

[Zai, if you don’t move, you’ll be labeled as doing a passive livestream.]

[Did you sneak off to watch the video? I think I vaguely heard Xian God’s voice.]

[Hehe, I heard that too~]

The boy snapped out of his daze, hurriedly swiped his finger across the screen, and locked his phone.

A blush crept up his ears, and he replied stiffly, “I didn’t watch, I was playing games. Don’t change the subject.”

[alright alright, you didn’t see it, you didn’t see it.]

[You know, darling, we’ve always trusted you. Next time, please turn your phone volume down a bit.]

In the live stream, the viewers’ teasing comments kept scrolling by, so Xu Du simply turned them off to avoid seeing them and focused on the game.

Five games later, the sun had quietly risen high in the sky, and before we knew it, it was 11 a.m.

After thanking the fans who sent gifts as usual, Xu Du closed the live stream.

Under Xu Du’s intense focus, his stomach began to protest. He hesitated for a long time in his chair, then finally reached for his phone to order a meal.

There’s still a little over an hour until 1 p.m., which is a good time to catch up on Jiang Xian’s live stream yesterday.

Xu Du pondered expressionlessly, then swiped his phone screen. Five or six missed call icons were prominently displayed, with over a dozen unread text messages crammed below.

The missed call displayed on the phone was from Xu Jianhai. Since Xu Du usually keeps his phone on silent, he did not receive the call from Xu Jianhai.

But what difference does it make whether you accept the call or not?

Xu Du’s lips curled into a mocking smile as he opened his phone’s text messages, where lines of vulgar and offensive insults immediately filled his vision.

[You little brat, you dare ignore your father’s calls?]

[It cost me over 300,000 yuan to raise you. I’d rather feed that money to a dog than waste it on you.]

[You useless thing, born of a mother but raised without one. I shouldn’t have given birth to you; you’ve wasted so much of my money.]

[Give me back that 300,000 yuan right now! How could I have given birth to such a debt collector?]

[Xu Du, let me tell you! I’ve changed the locks. Don’t even think about setting foot in this house again until you pay me back!]

For eighteen years, the boy had grown accustomed to such insults. Xu Du stared blankly at the offensive text message screen, lost in thought.

——

At first, Xu Jianhai was a responsible father, and although the family of three wasn’t wealthy, their life was warm and loving. But fate always takes unexpected turns.

By chance, Xu Jianhai began to dabble in gambling. At first, it was just a small-scale affair, but gradually, his gambling addiction grew wildly like weeds, quickly devouring his reason and conscience.

Watching her husband sink deeper into depravity, Xu’s mother was frantic with worry and tried many times to persuade him to stop. But instead of Xu Jianhai’s sudden awakening, she received a beating.

This was just the beginning of a nightmare. From then on, whenever Xu Jianhai lost control of his emotions, his fists would fall on his mother, and even young Xu Du was not spared.

The prolonged torment caused Xu’s mother to suffer a complete mental breakdown, and she developed severe depression. On a sunny afternoon, she unusually prepared a sumptuous dinner.

The braised pork glistened on the porcelain plate, and the sweet aroma of sweet and sour pork ribs filled the air. Little Xu Du lay on the table, his eyes sparkling as he stared at the steaming food, completely unaware that his mother had secretly slipped a sleeping pill into the bottom of his bowl.

“Today it’s just the two of us.” Xu’s mother used chopsticks to put food on his plate. He stroked Xu Du’s soft black hair, her fingertips trembling slightly. “From now on… it’ll just be the two of us.”

As dusk deepened, Xu’s mother carried her sleeping son to the rooftop. When her toes touched the edge, little Xu Du suddenly uttered a soft, sweet voice, “Mama.”

Xu’s mother abruptly took a half-step back, gently placing her son in a safe corner against the wall. In the sunset, she kissed little Xu Du’s forehead one last time. Without the slightest hesitation, she turned and leaped off the rooftop.

Xu Du wasn’t someone who had never received love.

He had received love before.

It was precisely because he had received it that he had always held onto hope.

Even on his eighteenth birthday, when Xu Jianhai slammed his yellowed ledger onto the table.

Even though the ledger meticulously recorded every expense he’d in since childhood.

Even though Xu Jianhai pointed at him with fingers reeking of cheap tobacco, demanding he repay the hundreds of thousands recorded in the ledger starting today.

He still held onto a sliver of hope, a hope that little Xu Du would once again experience the familial affection he’d so desperately sought.

But today, he suddenly felt a little tired.

Xu Du didn’t bother reading the even more offensive text messages on his phone; he blocked all of Xu Jianhai’s contact information.