Tao Luo once said, “The forum is like a fascinating junkyard—you feel uncomfortable if you don’t visit it for a day, but miserable the entire day once you do.”
Yan Chengfeng found this to be an uncannily accurate and fair assessment.
[Today’s Hot Topic on the Forum]: Is Grilled Corn cursed with the unluckiest ADs?
“Last year, their performance at the World Championship was already shaky. Although reaching the semifinals was a record-breaking achievement for a Chinese team, their weaknesses were completely exposed by the Americans. If they don’t find a competent ADC and get the Head Chef to make an impact, they might not even need to wait for the World Championship—they can just give up after the Spring Split.”
The initials KYM stand for “Grilled Corn”,1烤玉米 (Kao Yu Mi) in Chinese while “Head Chef” refers to Yan Chengfeng. Firstly, his in-game ID was “Chef,” and secondly, the last two characters of his name also matched the initials for “kitchen” in Chinese.2kitchen is 厨房 (Chu Fang) This was why Tao Luo always called him “Yan Kitchen.”
[Top Comment 1]: Seriously, I’ve never seen a team that keeps cycling through ADCs like this. Either they evaporate easily, or they’re as timid as mice. Can you spend some money and get a decent one for once?
[Top Comment 2]: If you don’t get a new ADC soon, this amazing team is going to die a slow death, I swear. Please, Grilled Corn 🙏, the whole world already knows your weak point is your bottom lane!
Yan Chengfeng closed the forum page in frustration.
The infuriating thing about forums was that, while the comments were often unbearable, you couldn’t help but admit that sometimes the people had a point.
Even these ordinary players, most of whom likely hadn’t even reached Platinum rank, could see the truth: in his three-year professional career, Yan Chengfeng had never reached his full potential.
And the root of the problem lay with the ADC position.
The ADC, often referred to as the bottom lane or marksman, was the core of a team’s damage output—the sharpest sword in its arsenal. The support, on the other hand, played the complementary role of shielding and aiding the ADC in team fights, providing the crucial protection they needed to deal damage.
These two roles were deeply interconnected, bound together in gameplay.
The ADCs that KYM had recruited over the years had been mediocre at best. Veteran players were declining, while rookies promoted to the position were clumsy and inexperienced. Even though Yan Chengfeng’s role as the shield had become incredibly reliable, the team was stuck in an awkward period of generational transition.
After KYM’s fall in the semifinals at last year’s Worlds, Li Feng announced that the club’s owner was determined to hire a player from the North American server. Yan Chengfeng hadn’t held out much hope at the time.
Busy preparing for tournaments, he didn’t think much of why Li Feng had been deliberately avoiding him back then, his eyes oddly evasive.
It turned out that the person they had bought was Zhen Ning.
From the moment he learned of this, Yan Chengfeng’s heart had known no peace.
The frustration and annoyance in his chest hadn’t subsided, not even after the harsh words he had hurled at Zhen Ning when they reunited.
While zoning out in front of the screen, Yan Chengfeng suddenly heard Tao Luo’s booming voice behind him. “Hello! I’m Tao Luo!”
Startled, he looked up to realize that, at some point, Zhen Ning had arrived, standing at the doorway of the training room with a keyboard in his arms. A small crowd had already gathered around him.
Although Yan Chengfeng still held a grudge about their past, the time they had spent together during youth training at the base felt like a distant memory.
To most people at the base, Yan Chengfeng was KYM’s team captain, while Zhen Ning was just the newly transferred player from the NA server.
Yan Chengfeng’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he turned his head away, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh, there’s an empty seat next to me. Do you want to sit here?” Tao Luo asked Zhen Ning.
The training room was spacious, but with the new season approaching, everyone was focused on practice. The second team and substitutes were also present, leaving few empty seats.
There was one seat to Yan Chengfeng’s right and another to Tao Luo’s left.
It seemed like Zhen Ning had two choices. But Yan Chengfeng knew that even if Tao Luo hadn’t offered, Zhen Ning would never choose to sit next to him.
The funny thing was, if this had been the Yan Chengfeng of three years ago, he would have puffed out his chest and proudly declared that no matter how many options Zhen Ning had, his final answer would always be him.
Times had changed, and so had people. Their relationship was now worse than the one Zhen Ning had with Tao Luo, someone he’d just met. They couldn’t even exchange polite greetings anymore.
Tao Luo: “I heard you’ve been in the United States for a while. Is their playstyle different? Are you finding it hard to adjust?”
Zhen Ning replied, “Not at all. The overall pace in the NA server is relatively fast, whereas the CN server tends to favor late-game development with more explosive team fights. The strategies are different, but it’s easy to adjust.”
His tone was flat, but his response was meticulous.
This textbook-perfect answer left Tao Luo stunned for a moment. It took her a while to react, scratching her head. “Oh, I see…”
The room was noisy—especially Tao Luo’s loud voice.
Yan Chengfeng remained expressionless, though his jaw unconsciously tightened slightly.
He hadn’t wanted to look, but his peripheral vision betrayed him, instinctively tracking Zhen Ning’s movements. He saw Zhen Ning walk into the training room, surrounded by the group, and glance at the empty seat beside him.
Just as Zhen Ning was about to choose between the two available seats, a sudden voice called out from the corner of the room. “Interested in a solo match?”
The question came from Lei Tao, a tall and sturdy alpha seated in the corner.
The lively atmosphere of greetings was suddenly interrupted by this person’s inexplicable question, causing everyone in the room to fall into an awkward silence for a moment.
Lei Tao got up and walked over to Zhen Ning, stopping directly in front of him. Only then did everyone realize that the challenge had been directed at Zhen Ning.
The air froze for a moment. Zhen Ning shook his head and said, “Sorry, I have something else to do.”
Lei Tao let out a stiff grunt, “Oh.”
He pressed, “It’s 10:30 in the morning. You’ve been in the training room for less than three minutes. Is it really because you’re busy, or do you just not want to play against me?”
The temperature in the training room seemed to drop several degrees instantly.
Tao Luo frowned. “…Are you for real?”
Yan Chengfeng stayed silent, though he could guess Lei Tao’s intentions without even trying.
Lei Tao was KYM’s nominal starting ADC, promoted from the youth training team during last year’s Worlds.
The reason he was only the nominal starter was his inconsistency on the competitive stage, which led to him being rotated with substitutes during matches.
Like many alphas freshly promoted from youth training, Lei Tao was young, mentally fragile, and struggling under the pressure of the media.
When he heard the club had signed a new ADC from the United States, he’d spent an entire month sleepless, haunted by the fear that he’d wake up one day to find his starting position taken.
Though his teamfighting performance was far from stellar, Lei Tao had been known as the king among casual players before joining KYM, with soloing being his specialty.
His hostility was written all over his face—it was obvious he already saw Zhen Ning as his future rival and was itching to humiliate him in a one-on-one.
“No ill intentions. Just a friendly competition. Pick any hero, as long as it’s an AD.” Lei Tao said, “First to die loses. What do you say?”
Tao Luo scowled. “You’re going too far. He already said he’s got something to do—”
“I wouldn’t call it going too far.”
Tao Luo blinked in surprise. It was Yan Chengfeng who had spoken. Until now, he’d been sitting silently on the sidelines, not saying a word or even looking up.
“Lei Tao just wants a friendly spar with the new AD,” Yan Chengfeng said, finally lifting his eyelids and offering a faint smile in Zhen Ning’s direction. “Learning from each other, improving together. At most, it’s just a 15-minute game.”
“What’s the matter? Can’t spare even a little time for that?” he asked.
Tao Luo and Xu Minghe exchanged complex glances.
They were the only ones in the room who knew the history between Yan Chengfeng and Zhen Ning, and they caught the subtle implications in Yan Chengfeng’s words when he referred to Zhen Ning as the “new AD.”
Zhen Ning stared silently at Yan Chengfeng’s face.
“I can play.” After a pause, Zhen Ning said, “Give me three minutes to log into my account.”
“You don’t need to go through all that trouble.” The next second, Yan Chengfeng stood up from his seat and said, “Just sit here and use my account.”
This left Lei Tao completely baffled.
Lei Tao had always felt somewhat intimidated by Yan Chengfeng. First, because Yan Chengfeng was his senior, the team captain, and the shot-caller. Second, because Lei Tao’s frequent rookie mistakes during matches had earned him more than a few scoldings from Yan Chengfeng.
Of course, he knew his gameplay was sometimes downright ridiculous, so he understood that he was in the wrong and never had the nerve to talk back.
Lei Tao had no knowledge of the history between Yan Chengfeng and Zhen Ning. This was the first time Yan Chengfeng had so openly taken his side in front of everyone. Lei Tao’s heart warmed, and his confidence instantly surged.
Raising his voice, Lei Tao asked Zhen Ning, “So are you playing?”
Zhen Ning remained quiet.
From a seat away, Yan Chengfeng crossed his arms with a half-smile and tilted his head, gesturing toward his now-empty gaming chair.
Zhen Ning’s chest rose and fell subtly. After a long moment, he looked away and sat down in the chair.
Lei Tao wasted no time. He logged into his account and set up a solo room. The other players in the training room stood up and gathered around, clearly interested.
It wasn’t so much about the match itself; it was an excuse to openly observe Zhen Ning, the team’s new recruit.
To maximize damage output, the ADC needed to be aggressive. On the domestic scene, AD players were often driven and passionate Alphas like Lei Tao, who enjoyed fighting in the laning phase.3early stage of a game where players focus on their individual lanes, for example farm resources and trade
But Zhen Ning’s demeanor was entirely different.
Tao Luo stared curiously at the pale-faced young man before her, whose features were cold and beautiful.
He sat upright, his expression devoid of unnecessary emotion. He appeared cold and calm, more like a scholar performing lab experiments than someone preparing for a match.
The game began, and Lei Tao chose the hero Star Lion.
Nicknamed “Afro” by players for its wild appearance, Star Lion was a powerful marksman in the current meta and one of Lei Tao’s most-picked heroes.
Tao Luo sucked in a breath.
“We’ll see what Zhen Ning picks,” Xu Minghe murmured. “Afro’s tough to counter this patch.”
Tao Luo nodded, her eyes fixed on Zhen Ning’s hands. She was curious about his choice.
Yet Zhen Ning’s expression didn’t falter. He didn’t rush his pick. Instead, he opened the settings menu in the bottom-right corner of the screen and adjusted the mouse sensitivity.
“The main issue is that there aren’t many heroes that can counter Afro,” Tao Luo whispered. “In this version, it’s hard to out-burst him, so the best option would be to pick a—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
After changing the mouse sensitivity, Zhen Ning deftly moved the cursor through the hero selection screen and, without hesitation, locked in his choice.
Tao Luo: “…Pfft.”
She wasn’t the only one who failed to hold it in; Zhen Ning’s choice caused nearly everyone in the room to break into laughter.
He had chosen Mianli.
Mianli, the Jungle Guardian, was a cute and shy squirrel girl. In her skill animations, she bashfully threw baskets of colorful fruit outwards.
Her role was classified as a “sustained damage marksman,” which essentially meant that she dealt damage through cuteness. Even when bursting, her output was still only adorable. She was tanky but lacked aggression.
In short, she was a hero with low burst damage and was extremely weak in the laning phase.
“…Look at Lei Tao’s face,” Tao Luo said, her voice trembling with barely contained laughter. “I can’t take it anymore.”
Xu Minghe shook his head, chuckling. “Well, technically, Mianli is a marksman, so this AD battle is still valid in a way.”
Lei Tao’s expression darkened.
To him, a weak hero like Mianli lacked the essence of a true marksman. For Zhen Ning to make such an absurd choice after he had locked in Afro clearly showed that he was looking down on him.
However, someone else’s expression was even darker than Lei Tao’s.
Yan Chengfeng was glaring at Zhen Ning’s profile, his face contorting in anger.
Tao Luo and Xu Minghe suddenly realized something and exchanged a quick glance. Tao Luo silently mouthed “WTF” to Xu Minghe.
They had overlooked one crucial detail.
Mianli was indeed an awkward choice for an ADC.
However, her durability and crowd control mechanics were exceptional, and she also had a small amount of damage. After a few patches, players discovered a new way to utilize her—
Mianli began to shine in the support role and frequently appeared in professional matches.
This fluffy-tailed girl had been used by Yan Chengfeng numerous times in competitions, delivering game-changing plays that turned the tide of matches.
She became Yan Chengfeng’s most successful and iconic hero, achieving the highest win rate of his career.
