SMS CHAPTER 52

Yan Chengfeng had never felt so miserable in his entire life.

Normally, his appetite could handle far more than fourteen pieces of sushi. The problem was the slimy texture of the sweet shrimp, combined with the stifled frustration lingering in his chest. The two forces clashed and churned inside him. The more he tried to hold it in, the worse it became. In the end… he suddenly vomited everything out, just like that.

…How humiliating.

Yan Chengfeng vomited until the world spun, his head buzzed, and his vision went black. In his daze, he faintly heard Zhen Ning calling his name, but he couldn’t summon the strength to respond.

He vaguely sensed a crowd gathering around him. Amid the murmurs, Tao Luo’s panicked voice rang out, “Could it be food poisoning? Oh no, oh no, I ate two plates earlier too! Am I going to—”

Kong Xian: “It’s not food poisoning. He just ate too quickly.”

Tao Luo: “But he only ate fourteen pieces of sushi!”

Kong Xian: “He ate fourteen pieces in five minutes.”

Tao Luo: “…Wow.”

Leaning against the wall, Yan Chengfeng took the bottle of mineral water someone handed him and began rinsing his mouth. Someone as proud as he was no longer had the strength to correct the detail that it wasn’t “fourteen pieces in five minutes” but “fourteen pieces in three.”

Despite the burning sensation in his eyes from vomiting, Yan Chengfeng stubbornly insisted, “I’m fine. I just ate too fast, I—bleh.”

He heard Zhen Ning let out a soft sigh.

Then, in a calm tone, Zhen Ning told the people around them, “Alright. Tao Luo, Kong Xian, you two continue eating. I’ll take him back to the hotel.”

Tao Luo guiltily fidgeted with her fingers. “No, it’s fine. I’ll head back too. It’s my fault anyway. If I hadn’t insisted on eating here, he wouldn’t have ended up like this…”

Just as Yan Chengfeng finally managed to suppress the nausea and lift his head, he stubbornly added, “I’m fine. I just—”

Zhen Ning glanced at him, his expression quiet. Yan Chengfeng stiffened, turned away, and fell silent.

Kong Xian caught their brief interaction.

He barely managed to suppress a smile. “Alright, you two head back first. We’ll meet on stage in a few days.”

Even after getting into the taxi back to the hotel, Yan Chengfeng remained convinced his reasoning was sound.

First of all, Zhen Ning had originally been on track to differentiate as an alpha. His personality was nothing like a typical delicate omega.

Based on that, it made sense that when Zhen Ning first went to America, his aesthetics and criteria for choosing a partner were probably still aligned with an alpha’s standards. So, even though he ultimately differentiated as an omega, it wasn’t entirely implausible that he could have fallen for someone like Kong Xian, who was also an omega.

Secondly, Kong Xian was extraordinary. An omega as talented and proud as he was naturally admired by many. No AD would dislike being supported by such a skilled player. Yan Chengfeng had already realized last year the gap in skill and experience between himself and Kong Xian.

Moreover, Kong Xian was famously aloof when it came to alphas. Rumors had long circulated that he was the type of omega who preferred OO relationships.

But why Kong Xian, of all people?

The only person on the field who had ever made Yan Chengfeng feel truly outclassed was Kong Xian. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have lost his composure like this. But why did it have to be someone stronger than him?

And… how was he supposed to compete with Kong Xian?

Yan Chengfeng’s mind was in turmoil. Clutching his stomach, he stared blankly out the window. Tao Luo, worried sick, thought he was actually suffering from food poisoning and had completely lost his mind.

But Yan Chengfeng couldn’t hear a thing. Dragging himself back to the hotel like a zombie, he didn’t even glance at the expressions of the two people behind him. In a hoarse voice, he muttered, “I’ll go lie down for a bit first,” before stepping into his room and shutting the door behind him.

He went straight to the bathroom, rinsed his mouth furiously, then stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His stomach was empty, and the nausea had subsided, but the hollowness in his chest remained.

Yan Chengfeng stood there, unsure how much time had passed, until the doorbell rang.

He froze, initially planning to ignore it, but the person outside was persistent, ringing the bell over and over. After a brief hesitation, he finally opened the door.

Zhen Ning stood outside.

“Hot soup.” Zhen Ning held up a bag. “You just threw up. You can’t leave your stomach empty. At least drink something warm.”

“I’m not drinking it,” Yan Chengfeng said stiffly, looking away. “I have no appetite. I don’t want it.”

Zhen Ning was silent for a moment before saying, “There’s nothing between Kong Xian and me. Not like what you think.”

Yan Chengfeng stiffened.

“I don’t care who you met in America, and I don’t care how you and Kong Xian got to know each other.”

Yan Chengfeng rattled off his words in one breath. “I just want to focus on the match in a few days. I’m not thinking about anything else. I don’t have the time or energy for it. What does your business have to do with me? I already have enough to deal with on my own, I—”

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Zhen Ning remained quiet for a long time.

Then, with a calm expression, he finally looked at Yan Chengfeng and said, “I know.”

Yan Chengfeng: “…”

Wait—why did he accept that so quickly? Sure, he had just said it himself, but still… Was Zhen Ning really not going to explain any further?

One second earlier, he had been declaring, “I don’t care.” But now, Yan Chengfeng found himself hesitating. Finally, unable to resist, he feigned casualness. “Back in America… did you and Kong Xian ever play together?”

“Drink the soup,” Zhen Ning said softly. “Five sips, and I’ll tell you.”

Yan Chengfeng froze, lips pressing into a thin line.

Zhen Ning quietly met his gaze.

Taking a deep breath, Yan Chengfeng finally reached out, took the soup from Zhen Ning’s hands, and fully opened the door to let him in.

He hastily tore open the plastic bag, scooped up five spoonfuls of soup, and drank them, just like a sulking elementary school student reluctantly taking medicine. Then, he slammed the spoon back into the bowl.

Glaring at Zhen Ning, Yan Chengfeng pressed, “Did you and Kong Xian play together? Is he much better than me?”

Zhen Ning replied, “We’ve played together.”

“He’s been competing for almost six years. You’ve been playing for three. Your styles are different, and so are your teammates, so it’s hard to make a direct comparison. There’s no such thing as someone being definitively better.”

Zhen Ning added, “But Kong Xian is indeed very impressive. He’s meticulous, hardworking, and has put in extraordinary effort to reach where he is today. He’s someone many players can’t match.”

“But this time, we’re here to face each other with the determination to win,” Zhen Ning continued. “I know it’s going to be tough, but for the match in a few days… I’ll still give it my all.”

Yan Chengfeng was stunned.

Zhen Ning’s evaluation of Kong Xian was incredibly high, but his expression and tone were those of admiration for a worthy opponent. It wasn’t at all like… someone talking about the person they love.

While Yan Chengfeng was still processing this, he heard Zhen Ning say, “I’m leaving now.”

Yan Chengfeng instinctively looked up. “You—”

“Even though you just said that competition will always be your top priority and that you might not care about my business or think it has anything to do with you…” Zhen Ning stood up, his tone calm. “I just wanted to tell you that I do have someone I like. But it’s not Kong Xian.”

Yan Chengfeng was dumbfounded.

He watched as Zhen Ning averted his gaze.

“Remember to finish the soup.” Just before closing the door, Zhen Ning turned back once more, meeting Yan Chengfeng’s eyes. Finally, he added, “Good night.”

Zhen Ning closed the door behind him, leaving the room in silence. The steam from the hot soup slowly dissipated into the air.

Yan Chengfeng stood frozen in place.

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Author’s note:
Yan Kitchen’s brain: warming up.