SMS CHAPTER 62

After the livestream ended, the forum exploded, Li Feng nearly passed out, KYM’s PR team was paralyzed, and the entire world seemed to spiral into chaos.

The only person who looked relieved was Yan Chengfeng.

The stunt Yan Chengfeng pulled off was both wild and bold. While the couples in other teams were still secretly holding hands, the impact of his livestream could be considered the first of its kind in the circle.

Not only had he openly and confidently admitted to the relationship, but he had shamelessly shared intimate details. He embodied the phrase “fearless” to an almost absurd degree.

Everyone’s first reaction was: “Has he lost his mind? Is he actually insane?”

It was just… too bold, too audacious.

But then again, this was Yan Chengfeng. And on second thought, it didn’t seem that far-fetched after all.

Who would’ve guessed that this once incredibly stubborn alpha, who had made countless classic remarks like “Omegas would only slow down my farming speed” …would one day fall head over heels?

Viewers and fans were stunned. But then they remembered that the other half of this equation was Neither, an omega both exceptional and composed, someone capable of taming this stubborn, childish alpha. They couldn’t help but feel… that they were a strangely well-matched pair.

Once the initial shock wore off, the next burning question on everyone’s mind was: When did they even start dating?

How had there been no signs? Why did they always seem like they were on the verge of bickering during their joint livestreams?

It was only then that people realized the truth: all those past arguments and teasing were just playful banter and lovers’ quarrels.

That day on stream, Yan Chengfeng had kept throwing sarcastic jabs at Zhen Ning—probably because Zhen Ning had used a couple’s skin with a random player. The jealousy must have gotten to him, making him grumble about it the whole time.

The situation dominated public discussion for half a month straight. For over ten days, the topic only gained momentum, with the forum exploding daily with trending threads analyzing every past interaction between them from livestreams to match footage.

At first, Li Feng was tearing his hair out in frustration. But soon, he realized that public opinion had taken an unexpectedly positive turn. Most people were either enthusiastically shipping the couple or relentlessly teasing Yan Chengfeng. Surprisingly, there were very few negative comments.

Unable to rein in Yan Chengfeng, Li Feng eventually forced himself to see the bright side, choosing to view all the attention as free publicity for the team.

One day, however, a new bombshell post appeared on the forum:

[Forum Hot Topic]: Fam!!! Look at what I just stumbled upon!!! [Image Link]

The photo showed a group of high school-aged boys sitting in the cramped training room of KYM’s second team. It was blurry, clearly old.

In the corner of the picture sat none other than a teenage Yan Chengfeng.

Young Yan Chengfeng was pretty much a mini version of his current self—his brows and eyes carried the same defiant arrogance, and he still wore that cocky expression. The only difference was the bright laughter in his eyes and the youthful innocence on his face.

One hand rested casually on the shoulder of the boy beside him, while the other pointed boldly at the screen, as if proudly showing off a game result.

And beside him sat a younger Zhen Ning, his delicate features calm and composed.

But Zhen Ning in the photo wasn’t looking at the screen. Instead, his gaze rested quietly on Yan Chengfeng’s face, with a faint smile at the corners of his lips.

[Top Comment 1]: Holy crap… holy crap holy crap… They’re so young and pure and handsome. They’re such a perfect match. So, have these two been a thing since way back then??

[Top Comment 2]: Wait, wait, wait—my brain is a mess. What does this photo mean? Was Neither in KYM’s youth training program a long time ago?

[Top Comment 3]: Wow, looking at that room, it does seem like KYM’s youth training base. They probably hadn’t even undergone differentiation yet.

[Top Comment 4]: Why did Neither leave back then? I remember from his announcement that he played on NA servers for a while. Did he leave to train overseas? And why did he come back later?

[Top Comment 5]: That’s totally normal, though. People’s plans change over time. How many youth trainees actually make it to the pro league in the end~

[Top Comment 6]: AHHHH! So, is this a “reunited lovers” trope?

Yan Chengfeng saw the post too.

He stared at the photo for a long time, a warmth spreading in his chest.

Looking at Zhen Ning’s smile in the picture, he realized just how absurdly oblivious he had been back then—how his brain had been entirely consumed by gaming.

As he skimmed through the comments speculating about the past, he felt a flicker of hesitation.

Then, he abruptly exited the thread.

In his mind, he repeated to himself over and over: As long as things between me and Zhen Ning are good now, that’s all that matters. Focus on the future. Dwelling on the past is pointless. Don’t get caught up in what-ifs.

But the truth was, before that fateful livestream, Yan Chengfeng’s mindset hadn’t been as calm as it was now.

He had constantly told himself to stay rational and mature. This wasn’t a trivial matter—it concerned both his and Zhen Ning’s futures.

Yet, the moment the livestream started, when he faced the camera, he changed his mind.

He realized he couldn’t do it. He wanted to tell the whole world openly that Zhen Ning was the one he, Yan Chengfeng, liked. He didn’t want to hide it.

He couldn’t deny it, and he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

And moving forward, it would be impossible to keep pretending.

A kiss was a kiss. Liking someone was liking someone. He wasn’t going to deny it.

Both he and Zhen Ning were people who valued their achievements and careers. They wouldn’t slack off. Yan Chengfeng was confident they could play well in every match together in the future.

When he said those words, Yan Chengfeng felt a brief moment of satisfaction.

However, after turning off the livestream and meeting Zhen Ning’s gaze, he suddenly panicked.

Looking at Zhen Ning’s face, Yan Chengfeng stammered, “I-It was you who asked me how I wanted to choose! You handed the choice over to me yourself!”

Zhen Ning didn’t say anything.

Yan Chengfeng started feeling uneasy.

He knew the higher-ups at KYM were probably furious by now, and the forum was likely in chaos. There was no salvaging the situation anymore, so…

Then, he saw Zhen Ning suddenly smile.

It was a faint smile. Zhen Ning rarely smiled, but when he did, his eyes and expression became vivid and gentle, like cold snow melting in early spring. It was so beautiful that Yan Chengfeng’s heart skipped a beat.

At first, Yan Chengfeng thought Zhen Ning was smiling out of anger.

He panicked. “I-I admit I was too impulsive. Don’t be mad. I just really didn’t want to say those bullshit lines. I—”

Zhen Ning shook his head, still smiling. “I’m not mad.”

Yan Chengfeng froze. He stared at Zhen Ning and noticed that, while the faint smile on his lips had faded slightly, his eyes were still curved.

Then, he heard Zhen Ning say, “But Yan Chengfeng, you really are an idiot.”

Hearing those words, Yan Chengfeng was finally certain that Zhen Ning wasn’t actually angry.

He let out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he felt a bit indignant.

He knew he really was an idiot. Whether it was when he confessed to Zhen Ning or when they were lying in bed together later, his way of expressing affection was always clumsy and repetitive—whispering in Zhen Ning’s ear over and over, “I like you so much.”

Even when it came to something as big as making their relationship public, in front of so many viewers, the only thing he ended up blurting out was something blunt, reckless, and even a little proud: “I used my tongue.”

But Yan Chengfeng knew that Zhen Ning liked his stupidity.

“…Then I’ll just be an idiot.”

Staring into Zhen Ning’s eyes, he said, “The two of us are tied together now. If we don’t play well in future matches, we’ll get roasted together. By then, if you regret this… it’ll be too late.”

Zhen Ning looked at him, shook his head, and said, “We won’t play badly.”

Their noses were almost touching, their breaths mingling.

Yan Chengfeng’s heart stirred. The moment he leaned in, he heard Zhen Ning say softly, “And I won’t regret it.”

His voice was quiet, but his tone was firm.

These past few days, Yan Chengfeng had been over the moon.

He was naturally someone who loved to show off. Over the years, he had been the subject of much talk, so he didn’t care at all what people online were saying about his arrogance.

The only thing he knew was that now, the whole world knew he had an omega. That he was with Zhen Ning.

This made him feel absolutely elated, and even his training sessions were filled with extra energy.

As time passed, the hype finally began to die down, and the storm gradually settled.

Seeing Yan Chengfeng living so comfortably, the only victim in this whole situation—Tao Luo—wasn’t too happy about it.

Tao Luo put her hands on her hips. “Yan Kitchen, you can’t be this heartless!”

Yan Chengfeng: “…?”

Tao Luo continued pointing at him. “As compensation, go buy me new ingredients for pizza: carrots, pineapples, flour, and tomato sauce. I’m going to make another Luo-style pizza!”

Yan Chengfeng: “Actually, I have a question. Your last name is Tao. Shouldn’t your pizza be called Tao-style pizza instead of—”

Tao Luo glared at him.

Yan Chengfeng: “Alright, alright, fine.”

In the end, Yan Chengfeng really did go to the nearby supermarket.

It wasn’t because he had suddenly grown a conscience and wanted to compensate Tao Luo, but because he needed to buy himself a new pillow. That way, when he snuck into Zhen Ning’s room at night to “watch movies,” he wouldn’t have to carry his pillow with him anymore.

However, while checking out, Yan Chengfeng ran into someone unexpected.

It was Zhang Shao.

Most of the country’s big esports clubs were based in the same city, and the ZC and KYM training facilities happened to be in the same villa complex. On top of that, there was only one large supermarket in the area.

So, running into a ZC team member wasn’t exactly unlikely.

Yan Chengfeng had faced Zhang Shao on the battlefield several times, but they had little interaction offstage. Lately, though, Yan Chengfeng had seen his name come up quite a bit.

That was because he had been secretly browsing forums to read posts about himself and Zhen Ning. Whenever he saw people saying they were a good match, he’d feel smug. If he came across comments like, “I feel like Chef would probably be clingier than Neither in their relationship,” he’d snort disdainfully and silently correct them in his head: “Not true. Actually, in bed, he’s the one who’s clingier with me.”

The posts were sorted by popularity, and among them were a few unrelated ones, most of which were about Zhang Shao.

Zhang Shao was ZC’s top laner. Last season, he had been performing well, but during the Summer Split, he was mysteriously replaced by a substitute player.

ZC’s official statement attributed it to health issues, but rumors swirled that he had made a mistake and been discarded by ZC. Others speculated that he had simply underperformed and was benched. After all, the competitive scene was brutally straightforward: the stronger player always got the spot.

But when Yan Chengfeng saw Zhang Shao in person, he was momentarily stunned.

They ran into each other in the checkout line, and Zhang Shao’s condition… was shockingly poor.

The “poor” here referred to his mental state. His complexion was pale, his energy drained—completely different from the Zhang Shao that Yan Chengfeng had seen on stage.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, both froze. Then, with a hint of awkwardness, they nodded at each other, looking slightly uncomfortable.

In the end, Zhang Shao broke the silence first. He said to Yan Chengfeng, “You did well in the Summer Split.”

The air was thick with awkwardness.

Yan Chengfeng had indeed performed outstandingly during the Summer Split, and he had played against ZC.

But the issue was that Zhang Shao hadn’t played a single match in the Summer Split. He had spent the entire season watching from the substitute bench.

After pausing to think for a moment, Yan Chengfeng could only say, “You should… take care of your health.”

In truth, this was already a tactful response, but Zhang Shao suddenly let out a mocking laugh, as if he had just heard some kind of huge joke.

“Take care of my health?” Zhang Shao shook his head. “I’m probably the most relaxed and healthiest person in the entire base right now.”

Yan Chengfeng didn’t know how to respond to that.

Zhang Shao also seemed to realize he had misspoken. He paused awkwardly for a moment. “Sorry.”

“It’s just that everyone thinks I’m really sick or that there’s something wrong with my mentality…”

He mumbled, as if he were speaking to Yan Chengfeng, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself. “I haven’t played a single training match in three months. I have nothing to do every day. All my official accounts have been confiscated. If I don’t follow his arrangements, he’ll just keep suppressing me like this, forcing me to—”

Zhang Shao abruptly stopped. He didn’t continue.

His words were packed with information, leaving Yan Chengfeng momentarily stunned. “…He?”

Zhang Shao’s expression darkened.

The relationship between KYM and ZC had always been tense, and this was something Zhang Shao definitely shouldn’t have said to Yan Chengfeng under any circumstances.

But it seemed like Zhang Shao had no one else to confide in. Or maybe his emotions had been pent up for too long, and he just couldn’t stop himself earlier.

Zhang Shao remained silent for a long time.

Yan Chengfeng watched as the hostility on Zhang Shao’s face gradually faded, leaving behind nothing but helplessness and an empty expression.

Zhang Shao glanced at Yan Chengfeng, gave a bitter smile, and shook his head.

Yan Chengfeng felt a mix of emotions.

Not everyone could adapt to the pressure and rules of professional competition. Zhang Shao had once been a high-spirited king of the amateur scene, and his livestreams were full of charisma. But after just a year or two in the professional scene, his mindset and temperament had changed drastically.

The silence between them returned, broken only by the “beep beep” of the cashier scanning items.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Zhang Shao raised his head.

He stared at Yan Chengfeng’s face for a moment, his expression subtly shifting into something unreadable.

He hesitated, gritted his teeth, and finally said two words in a hoarse voice, “…Xiong Hao.”

“As for what methods he has, why don’t you ask your omega about it?”

He gave a bitter smile and added, “Back then… he probably knew better than I do now.”