SMS CHAPTER 48

“You’re saying… you think you might actually like that… that omega friend of yours?”

Outside the training room, Xu Hao’s expression went through a whirlwind of emotions. After a long moment, he hesitated before finally speaking. “Well… I have to say, that’s really unexpected.”

Yan Chengfeng coughed.

If he had been capable of figuring things out on his own, he wouldn’t have resorted to seeking Xu Hao’s advice again a week later.

“It’s not like I really like him,” Yan Chengfeng said. “I mean, it’s just a possibility… But if it turns out to be true, what’s my next step?”

Xu Hao: “What do you mean, what’s your next step?”

Yan Chengfeng responded dryly, “Like, what am I supposed to do?”

Xu Hao: “If you’re sure you like him, then just pursue him!”

Yan Chengfeng nearly jumped. “…What did you just say?”

Xu Hao gave him a look as if he were the densest alpha in existence. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “How far have you two gotten?”

Yan Chengfeng: “The same as before… but we’ve kissed a few more times in the past couple of days. Half of those were initiated by him. I just can’t figure him out.”

Xu Hao stared at him in disbelief. “You still haven’t done it?”

Yan Chengfeng: “…”

“And you’re still not together?” Xu Hao’s expression turned strange. “Isn’t this just a thin layer of paper waiting to be poked through?”

Yan Chengfeng was frustrated. “The situation between him and me is special, nothing like what you’re imagining. This isn’t something that can just be ‘poked through.’”

Xu Hao waved his hand in exasperation, signaling that he needed a moment to calm down. Even with all his experience, it seemed he had never encountered a relationship as baffling as this one.

Yan Chengfeng took a deep breath.

“And… just casually asking,” he tried to appear nonchalant, “of course, asking doesn’t mean I’d actually do it—just curious, trying to understand—”

“The thing you mentioned earlier about pursuing him—what’s the general… process like?”

“Pursuing an omega? That’s simple. Isn’t this something alphas are born knowing? Do you really need to learn it?” Xu Hao continued in a daze, “In simple terms, you need to show them how you feel. Like, with Valentine’s Day coming up, think about the perfect gift or a special plan to bring you two closer.”

“Of course, there are different techniques for pursuing an omega. Your approach depends on your ultimate goal—whether it’s a pure romance route or a straight-to-bed approach. And if you’re aiming for both—”

Xu Hao’s words made Yan Chengfeng’s scalp tingle. “Enough, enough! Shut up already! I don’t need… I don’t need any of those routes!”

“Okay.” He awkwardly shoved Xu Hao back toward the training room. “That’s enough. Get back to training.”

Honestly, let alone Xu Hao—even Yan Chengfeng himself wasn’t sure what kind of relationship he and Zhen Ning had now.

Their relationship was intimate, and they did things only lovers would do, yet they always seemed to hold themselves back at a certain distance. That was because their hearts had never truly opened up to each other.

They were stuck in a ridiculous “temporary partner” arrangement, where everything they did could be rationalized as “helping each other out.” It felt like being trapped in an endless loop with no way out.

Yan Chengfeng often wondered, Why did I fall for Zhen Ning? Someone who, back then, had selfishly abandoned him—someone so frustrating and infuriating.

But feelings were feelings. His heart didn’t lie.

Then what about Zhen Ning… Does he like me? Yan Chengfeng suddenly felt lost in thought.

Could he like me?

What role did he play in Zhen Ning’s life? A good partner during their youth training days? And now? A teammate? Or just a convenient suppressant?

There was a fleeting moment when Yan Chengfeng had entertained an impossible idea: When Zhen Ning had taken that drink back then, the one meant for the person who made his heart skip a beat… Could he have been thinking of me?

But Yan Chengfeng dismissed the notion almost instantly. It was too absurd.

If Zhen Ning had liked him, how could he have left?

If you truly love someone, how could you so decisively abandon them?

But if Zhen Ning had genuinely liked someone else… even the mere possibility of it made Yan Chengfeng’s chest twist with unbearable jealousy.

“Yan Chengfeng,” Zhen Ning gasped in pain. “Are you a puppy?”

Yan Chengfeng snapped back to reality.

He took a step back, staring at Zhen Ning’s lips, which were slightly reddened from his bite. Only then did he fully realize what he had just done.

This was the first time in Yan Chengfeng’s life that he had been called a dog. His instinctive reaction was to snap back, but when he saw Zhen Ning’s slightly pale face from the pain and his reddened lips from the bite, a wave of guilt hit him. He suddenly didn’t know what to say.

In fact, it had started out as a perfectly normal morning. They had agreed to complete a temporary mark before official training began.

The marking process had gone smoothly, followed by the agreed-upon “comforting” phase. But as Yan Chengfeng kissed him, staring at Zhen Ning’s face and his moist eyes, his thoughts drifted again to the United States.

The truth was, he had been muddling through the past two weeks like this. Each time he thought of that unknown alpha, frustration would rise, and the more he kissed, the angrier he got. This time, he had lost control and bitten down too hard.

Yan Chengfeng paused. After a moment, he clumsily brushed his fingers over Zhen Ning’s lips and said hoarsely, “I didn’t hold back. Let me see…”

Zhen Ning turned his face away, covering his mouth. His eyelashes trembled slightly as he coldly stared at Yan Chengfeng.

He looked breathtakingly beautiful like this, and it made Yan Chengfeng’s heart tremble. “Don’t hide. Come a little closer…”

Just as Yan Chengfeng parted his lips to say something, Tao Luo’s loud and clueless voice rang out behind them. “Good morning! Huh? You two… What are you doing standing here? Why aren’t you in the training room?”

Both of them froze at the same time.

Yan Chengfeng: “We just… came out for some fresh air.”

Tao Luo looked puzzled, seemingly unable to understand why one would need a partner for fresh air. But in the end, she just said, “Oh.”

“By the way, the time and location for the Ji Ming Cup have been announced,” she said cheerfully. “It’s in Japan this year—another chance for a trip!”

Three days ago, KYM had finally wrapped up the last few matches of the Spring Split, unsurprisingly securing the top spot in the domestic Spring League standings.

A few years ago, Forest of the Full Moon, like other games, had a formal “champion” title for the spring season.

However, the title’s significance became controversial, as the difficulty of the Spring and Summer Splits paled in comparison to the World Championship.

Eventually, the official Spring and Summer Splits were adjusted to a pure points-based ranking system, with no “champion” title or trophy awarded.

This meant that the team that won the World Championship, held annually in the United States, was the only true champion.

Since the World Championship was held only once a year, teams from different countries rarely had opportunities to compete against one another outside of private scrims.

To address this, officials later introduced a smaller international tournament, the Ji Ming Cup, inviting each country’s Spring Split winner to compete. The tournament featured a relatively relaxed BO1 format and was meant as a friendly exchange.

The Ji Ming Cup was hosted in a different country each year, which was why Tao Luo had just said, “Another chance for a trip.”

“Fam.” A few people were sitting around in the training room as Tao Luo spoke excitedly. “Even though the World Championship is still far away, we can set a small goal for the Ji Ming Cup first. Top 2 isn’t too much to ask, right?”

“After all, it’s pretty unlikely we’ll beat the American team… so let’s aim for a 3-2 score this time.” She thought for a moment before adding, “Let’s at least try to put up a good fight!”

Xu Minghe asked, “The top team from the US Spring Split this year is still DSN, right?”

Xu Hao: “It couldn’t be anyone else.”

Tao Luo: “Wow, speaking of Frozen Yogurt[mfn]‘frozen yogurt’ in Chinese has the initials DSN[/mfn], what sticks with me the most is their top laner. We’re both alphas, yet that guy is a whole size bigger than me—like a walking Christmas tree! Those muscles… infuriating.”

Yan Chengfeng sneered. “American steaks are all from genetically modified cattle pumped full of hormones. It’d be weird if they didn’t grow that big.”

Tao Luo: “…Here we go again.”

DSN, nicknamed “Frozen Yogurt” by fans, was the reigning champion team from the US. They were the same team that had defeated KYM 3-1 in last year’s semifinals before going on to win the championship in dominating fashion.

Forest of the Full Moon was originally developed by an American team and had its first official tournaments in the US. As a result, American clubs were undoubtedly ahead of other countries in strategy, research, and team synergy. Their dominance was indisputable—a gap so vast it could only be described as insurmountable.

To this day, Yan Chengfeng would occasionally relive that BO5 semifinal in his dreams, replaying it countless times in his mind, only to wake up filled with regret.

No one truly understood how he had felt at the time.

Why did it have to be 3-1?

Even 3-2 would have been enough for him to feel content—he could have told himself they were just one step away. Or, if it had been a clean 3-0, at least it would’ve been a clear indication of the gap between their skill levels.

But 3-1… It was like being told there was a glimmer of hope, only for that hope to be so insignificant compared to the opponent’s strength that it felt almost laughable.

At the time, Yan Chengfeng had felt like he’d pushed himself to his absolute limit. Both his body and mind were utterly drained. He believed that even if he had another chance, the result would be the same.

But this year… things were different.

“Oh, so if North America is sending Frozen Yogurt again,” Tao Luo mused, “that means… we’ll be going up against Kong Xian again this year.”

The moment the words left her mouth, the room fell silent for a moment.

Xu Hao said, “To be honest, I’ve met countless omegas, but this one still leaves a lasting impression.”

“Ah, Zhen Ning, you weren’t here last year, so you probably don’t know.” Tao Luo paused to think. “Frozen Yogurt… that’s DSN. Their support is also an omega like you, a very skilled and young player.”

“But that guy… he’s genuinely terrifying.” She shuddered.

Before Zhen Ning could respond, Xu Hao chimed in, unable to hold back. “His playstyle is scary, but what’s even scarier is his personality. I’ve never met an omega as mean as him in my entire life.”

They were talking about a player named Kong Xian, whose in-game ID was Admire. A beautiful, arrogant, and sharp-tongued omega, Kong Xian was a Chinese-American and DSN’s star support.

He was a senior to everyone present, boasting immense popularity and an impressive collection of trophies, which gave him every reason to be proud.

A few years ago, he shattered many players’ prejudices against omegas and became the first omega to win a World Championship title.

However, he was notoriously disdainful of alphas. On social media, he frequently posted extreme comments like, “An alpha without self-discipline is worse than a rotten cucumber.” In an interview, he had once openly remarked, “Alpha teammates smell like they’ve never taken a bath since birth,” which had sparked considerable controversy.

Kong Xian’s playstyle, however, was extraordinarily refined. Unlike Yan Chengfeng’s aggressive approach, which focused on making the first move, Kong Xian excelled at soft support and healer roles. His style was meticulous and subtle, yet he had a strong presence, always managing to harass the enemy to the point of a splitting headache.

As a result, both players were frequently discussed and compared by spectators. They represented two polar extremes of what the support role could achieve.

Xu Hao was still clearly shaken by past experiences. “At that one small offline dinner meeting between the two teams, I remember he only drank Perrier sparkling water and only ate organic leafy greens.”

“We don’t really care what he eats.” Tao Luo slumped. “But after losing in the semifinals, I was already feeling down. Then, after the match, I went in for a hug, but barely a second in, he pushed me away. I mean, AO boundaries are a thing, but I wasn’t thinking anything weird. His expression of disgust was just so obvious.”

“I take showers every single day! My pheromones are strawberry-scented, which is super popular with a lot of omegas! Fruity alpha scents are trending in the market now.” Tao Luo pouted, fidgeting with her fingers. “But his expression at the time was like my pheromones smelled like black garlic…”

Xu Hao: “At least he hugged you. He didn’t even shake my hand, just gave me a fist bump. But the moment the camera panned away, before he even got off the stage, I saw him pull a wet wipe out of his pocket to wipe his hands.”

Tao Luo sighed. “But you have to admit, he plays really well. Sure, his personality is lacking, but even Yan Chengfeng had to admit defeat last year, didn’t you?”

Yan Chengfeng was silent for a moment. “He’s indeed skilled.”

Tao Luo nodded, then leaned in close to Zhen Ning’s ear with a conspiratorial air. “Oh, and Zhen Ning, I have a little gossip you definitely don’t know. You see…”

Yan Chengfeng noticed the look on Tao Luo’s face and immediately sensed trouble. In an instant, he guessed what she was about to say.

His eyelid twitched. “Don’t—”

“That proud and arrogant omega actually approached Yan Kitchen after last year’s World Championship to take a photo together, chatted with him for a long time, and even suggested going out for a meal!”

Tao Luo said excitedly, “So last year during Worlds, the rest of us unanimously agreed that Kong Xian might… have a bit of a thing for Yan Kitchen!”

Yan Chengfeng wished he could find something to sew this girl’s mouth shut immediately. Instinctively, he glanced at Zhen Ning.

Zhen Ning’s face remained perfectly composed.

His expression was calm—but so calm that it seemed strangely unnatural. A peculiar feeling welled up in Yan Chengfeng’s chest, and he desperately wanted to change the topic.

However, before he could speak, Zhen Ning softly let out an, “Oh.”

Yan Chengfeng saw Zhen Ning turn his head, his gaze landing squarely on him. Then Zhen Ning asked, “Is that so?”

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Author’s note:

Someone is sweating buckets