TCWSITD – Chapter 27.1

This chapter is divided into two parts, each to be uploaded tonight at 30-minute intervals. Enjoy! 🍓🍓🍓

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Chapter 27.1 – Lin Jiang’s Hand Injury

After finishing his tasks, Lin Jiang stretched his sore arms. “I’m going upstairs to change. Call me when the team leader arrives.”

Shen Ju instinctively followed. “I’ll change too.”

But the moment they got upstairs, he was hit with a very inconvenient realization.

Lin Jiang’s clothes were on the balcony—and the two balconies were interconnected. Which meant… they could see everything if they changed out there.

Shen Ju froze mid-motion on the balcony, clutching his clean clothes and not daring to undress.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lin Jiang calmly unbuttoning his shirt. Lin Jiang glanced over. “Not changing?”

With practiced ease, Lin Jiang peeled off his shirt, revealing a lean, toned waist, then walked over to the washing machine with his dirty clothes in hand.

And then came an even more awkward problem: they shared a washing machine. And it was on Shen Ju’s side.

Lin Jiang, completely unfazed, walked right past him, tossed his clothes in, and casually turned back.

Shen Ju didn’t dare look directly at him.

Noticing the flush on his face, Lin Jiang pressed a cool hand to Shen Ju’s forehead. “Why’s your face so red?”

The sudden closeness made Shen Ju’s heart skip a beat. For a moment, he didn’t even know where to look.

Clothed, Lin Jiang always looked slender. But shirtless? He wasn’t delicate at all. There was a lean, powerful strength to him. No unnecessary accessories—clean-cut, like a piece of crimson jade: beautiful, flawless, and untouchably pure.

A fleeting dizziness swept over Shen Ju.

He steadied himself, swallowing hard.

There was an itch deep in his chest—unreachable, maddening. His gaze clung to Lin Jiang, refusing to look away.

Lin Jiang turned, reaching for a fresh shirt. Just above his lean waist—in a spot almost too intimate to notice—was a tattoo: delicate English lettering twined with vines and a black rose.

The black rose symbolized endless desire, transforming Lin Jiang’s clean aura into something raw and carnal.

Lin Jiang… actually had a tattoo.

And in such an intimate place…

Shen Ju lifted his eyelids, “What’s that on your waist?”

Lin Jiang glanced over his shoulder, unconcerned as he slipped on his shirt. “My first love.”

Shen Ju’s breath caught. “You’ve… been in a relationship?”

“Mm.”

The air thickened with a quiet suffocation. “Then… you and him… your first love—was he a guy or a girl?”

“A guy.”

A guy—

Lin Jiang actually liked men.
Shen Ju suddenly turned away, no longer daring to meet Lin Jiang’s eyes.

Deep down, something in Shen Ju’s chest churned restlessly—an unfamiliar kind of longing, like that black rose twining thorny vines tightly around his heart.
“… So, how did you two break up?”

A soft laugh came from behind him as Lin Jiang recalled his school days.

“I was pretty rebellious back then. He asked me if I dared to date him to challenge our homeroom teacher’s authority. I said ‘Why not?’ Then he told me all the couples were getting each other’s names tattooed, so he took me to get one. I got mine done, and when it was his turn… he bailed. Said he was scared of the pain and ran out the back door. We talked for three hours after that and then broke up.”

Shen Ju was stunned for a moment, “How old were you then?”

“About 14 years old, still in middle school.”

Lin Jiang, now fully dressed, recounted it half-jokingly, “Back then I was too scared of the pain to get it removed. Later, I just thought it was funny and couldn’t be bothered anymore. So I left it—it’s like a souvenir from my rebellious youth.”

Shen Ju couldn’t imagine that someone as composed and flawless as Lin Jiang had once been that kind of teenager.

Before Lin Jiang came to OT, Shen Ju never believed in perfect people. Get too close, and they’d always disappoint you.

But Lin Jiang… Lin Jiang was different. Better than anything he had imagined. So good that he was falling deeper and deeper.

Feeling uneasy, Shen Ju turned his head away. “I… was kind of rebellious too, back in school.”

“Really?” Lin Jiang laughed and pinched his cheek. “I could tell right away you must’ve been a handful as a kid. Looks like I was right.”

Shen Ju’s face flushed red from the pinch. He stared directly at Lin Jiang. The longer he looked, the more perfect he seemed—those long lashes casting shadows like butterfly wings.

…All at once, a wild urge struck him—he wanted to have Lin Jiang inked onto his own skin, right there on his waist.

Shen Ju grabbed the corner of Lin Jiang’s shirt, his heart pounding wildly. “Captain, I…”

Just then, Song Zhixu’s loud voice came from downstairs: “Captain, the new team leader is here! Come down quick!”

“Coming,” Lin Jiang called back.

He patted Shen Ju on the shoulder. “I’ll head down first. Hurry and get changed.”

As Lin Jiang walked away, the heat lingering in the air seemed to dissipate with him.

Shen Ju suddenly regained his senses. The rose vines that had entangled him also loosened their grip at just the right moment.

He quickly splashed cold water on his face to calm down, stripped off his clothes with one hand, and changed into fresh ones before heading downstairs.

Downstairs, Song Zhixu was enthusiastically welcoming the new team leader—a 20-year-old girl with short hair and chubby, apple-red cheeks. Standing next to the 1.88-meter tall Song Zhixu, she looked like a kid fresh out of school.

“My name is Ryan. You can call me An’an. Please take care of me from now on!”

Song Zhixu deliberately teased her. “You’re so cute, miss. Are you even an adult? You look younger than A’Deng…”

He was just about to pinch her cheek when he saw Lin Jiang coming downstairs. He immediately pulled back his hand. “Ah hahaha… Your name’s really nice.”

With that, he swiftly pulled A’Deng over and placed him between himself and the girl.

Lin Jiang introduced himself politely. It was clear Ryan had done her homework. She was earnest and had even researched their preferences beforehand.

At first, Lin Jiang was worried she might be shy and introverted, but after hearing her enthusiastically list her professional skills, he realized his concern was unnecessary.

What he really had to worry about…

He glanced up and saw Shen Ju heading downstairs.

Ryan greeted him warmly. “Hi, I’m Ryan, your new—”

But Shen Ju cut her off coldly, “Don’t want to hear it.”

He walked straight past her to his seat.

Ryan froze, too startled to speak.

Song Zhixu comforted her. “Don’t mind him. Shen Ju’s always like that. Come on, I’ll show you around the base…”

Under his coaxing, Ryan quickly regained her spirits. It had to be said that Song Zhixu really had a way with people.

The others exchanged glances—A’Deng to Zhou Wen, Zhou Wen to Lin Jiang—who just shook his head helplessly.

Shen Ju’s the Esports’ Crown Prince; if he didn’t want to cooperate, not even the Buddha himself could change his mind.

Ryan was determined to be the team leader at OT, and this was a challenge she had to face head-on.

Time quickly came to 5:30 PM. Ryan had already planned the hospital route in advance and listed all possible troubles they might encounter during the medical visit on a sheet.

She looked at them with unwavering determination. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get there and back safely!”

Shen Ju looked at her with a dumbfounded expression, grabbed his backpack, and said, “Let’s go, idiot.”

Behind him, Song Zhixu laughed out loud. Lin Jiang cleared his throat, signaling him to be mindful of the surroundings.

When they arrived downstairs, the ride-hailing car had just arrived.

It was a tiny electric vehicle, with an absurdly cramped backseat.

Shen Ju didn’t bother hiding his disdain. “You don’t have a driver’s license?”

Ryan scratched her head sheepishly. “Sorry, my driving isn’t great. I was worried I might endanger you on the road. Please bear with it, just this once…”

Isn’t being able to drive the number one rule for a team leader? That penny-pinching Duren must have hired an intern just to save money.

Shen Ju really wanted to fire this idiot on the spot, but with Lin Jiang present, he swallowed his temper and grudgingly climbed in.

Ryan took the front seat, while Lin Jiang and Shen Ju squeezed into the back.

With their long limbs crammed into the tight space, accidental contact was inevitable. Lin Jiang was busy replying to messages, his knee occasionally bumping against Shen Ju’s.

Shen Ju awkwardly moved sideways to avoid it.

Then the driver took a sharp turn, sending Lin Jiang crashing right into him.

“Sorry.”

Lin Jiang braced himself against Shen Ju’s thigh to sit upright, his fingers accidentally brushing against him.

Shen Ju immediately straightened up, hugging a pillow in front of him, feeling cramped and uneasy in the small space.

Unaware of the tension, Ryan turned around from the front seat and asked, “Brother Shen Ju, are you sick? Why are you sweating so much?”

Lin Jiang put down his phone and saw Shen Ju’s ears turning bright red, “Do you have a fever?”

Shen Ju blocked Lin Jiang’s hand. “… No, I’m fine.”

Ryan persisted, “Look at you, you’re so feverish your voice is hoarse!”

Lin Jiang leaned over worriedly, placing a hand on Shen Ju’s forehead. Now not just his ears, but even his neck flushed a deep red.

Silently, Shen Ju clenched his teeth, promising himself he would definitely fire this team leader once they got back—no doubt about it!

The ride-hailing car stopped downstairs at the hospital entrance. Lin Jiang stepped out, noting the place looked just as good as the hospital KUG had arranged for him before.

With their appointment number already sorted, Lin Jiang entered the consultation room.

Doctor Cen adjusted his reading glasses and carefully examined both their hands. He only prescribed some medicine for Shen Ju. But for Lin Jiang, he examined thoroughly for a long time before finally recommending an X-ray.

Lin Jiang’s heart sank. He had been so careful protecting his hands this time around. Was it still not enough?

Shen Ju looked even more anxious. “Is his injury serious?”

Doctor Cen hesitated. “It’s more serious than yours. Better get an X-ray first, so you both can be more at ease.”

Lin Jiang thanked the doctor and waited quietly outside the X-ray room.

As he sat there, his hands and feet grew cold. His mind drifted back to that one argument he’d had with He Gu in his past life.

He had never seen He Gu so furious before. He threw the medical report in front of him. “Didn’t we agree you’d rest your hand for half a year? Why are you sneaking off to train behind my back?”

Lin Jiang tried to reason, “If I don’t train, my skills will deteriorate fast. I’m a professional player; I can’t just stop training. Hand injuries happen all the time in this line of work. I’ve never heard of anyone who can’t keep competing because of them. And even if that day comes, even if I have surgery, I’ll still get back on stage…”

He Gu slammed the computer shut, his usually calm and composed face now blazing with anger. “Lin Jiang, why won’t you listen? Do you not understand how serious joint effusion is? Do you want to lose this hand entirely? How important can matches be? Will you die if you don’t play? Suspension! I’m notifying the manager right now. All your matches are canceled!”

At that time, Lin Jiang had been full of grievances with nowhere to vent them. He could only slam He Gu’s computer in retaliation.

“Why the hell should I listen to you? Who do you think you are to me?! What gives you the right to cancel my matches? What gives you the authority to stop me from playing? You don’t understand what I want at all. You and I—we’re not the same.”

After that argument, the two of them didn’t speak for half a year. And true to his word, He Gu had completely suspended all of Lin Jiang’s matches.

The mockery, the sneers.

The contempt, the curses.

They came crashing down like a tidal wave, suffocating him.

It was from that moment onward that Lin Jiang began to fall—plunging into a darkness he couldn’t escape.

He could never understand why the person who locked the door on his career was the same one who had once welcomed him into KUG with a smile…

Lin Jiang’s limbs were freezing. He stepped outside and lit a cigarette.

Those events felt distant now, yet the mere memory of them still made his hanging hands tremble slightly.

Suddenly, Shen Ju came over and held his hand. His palm was scorching—enough to chase away Lin Jiang’s chill.

“Captain, don’t worry. I’ve spoken to Doctor Cen. He said medical technology is very advanced now. It can buy you several more years, at least. At worst, we’ll just work harder and win a few more championships. That way, when the time comes, you won’t have any regrets…”

Lin Jiang turned to look at Shen Ju, who met his gaze with unwavering sincerity, his eyes brimming with support.

Indeed, only a fellow professional player could ever truly understand what drove someone like him.

To live on that stage—and to die on it.

As long as his hands still functioned, as long as he still drew breath, he could never give up the fight. Never abandon the arena he had bled for.

Lin Jiang turned and pulled him into a tight embrace.

The tremors buried deep within him gradually stilled.

“Alright. Let’s work hard together.”

Shen Ju froze at the sudden embrace.

It was the first time he had ever been this close to Lin Jiang. Carefully, he brushed his fingers against the fabric of Lin Jiang’s clothes, a flicker of desire rising. Just as he was about to wrap his arms around Lin Jiang’s waist—

Lin Jiang gave him a reassuring pat on the back and walked away. “I’m going to get my scan.”

Shen Ju stood frozen.

The captain’s waist was so slender.

He regretted not hugging him tighter just now.

After the X-ray, there was still an hour to wait. Ryan suggested, “How about we grab something to eat first? I saw a KFC downstairs!”

Shen Ju didn’t want to eat junk food, and he certainly didn’t want to eat with this little fool. Seizing the moment when Ryan went to the restroom, he grabbed Lin Jiang and ran off.

He sent a message.

[Shen Ju: Eat your KFC alone. Don’t come looking for us.]

[Ryan: T_T Got it.]

The sky at seven hadn’t yet turned fully dark. As professional players, they rarely had the chance to see the city bathed in daylight—the air carried a rare sense of freedom.

Shen Ju trailed slowly behind Lin Jiang, each step deliberate and heavy.

The desire in his heart nourished the rose vines. With sharp thorns, they wrapped around him and grew recklessly in his chest.

At a quiet fork in the road, Shen Ju finally gathered his courage. “Captain… under what circumstances would you consider dating someone?”

Lin Jiang thought for a moment. “Maybe after I win a championship. Once my goals are fulfilled, I might start thinking about personal matters.”

Shen Ju gave a quiet “Mm,” and buried the emotions rising in his throat beneath the collar of his shirt. “Then, Captain… what kind of person would you like?”

“Someone who’s my equal?” Lin Jiang answered, uncertain. “Or maybe someone soft and sweet. An opposite of me, you know—someone who balances me out.”

Shen Ju stopped walking.

It finally dawned on him. “Captain, are you talking about a woman?”

“Otherwise?” Lin Jiang found the question amusing. “You didn’t actually think I was into men, did you?”

Shen Ju’s heart dropped. “But… wasn’t your first love a man?”

“That was just a joke. Not a real first love. He’s just a close friend. I was being sarcastic when I called him my ‘first love.’ What, did you seriously think I was into men?”

He laughed freely, his eyes glowing under the city lights like butterflies breaking free into the night.

But he didn’t see the way Shen Ju’s heart was quietly breaking.

Didn’t see the vines of longing wrapped so tightly inside him.
Didn’t see the moment the thorns pierced too deep—shattering hope, splintering desire—leaving behind nothing but pain.

… So it had all been his own delusion.

Shen Ju lowered his gaze, the color drained from his eyes. “… That’s good.”

Lin Jiang clapped him on the shoulder with the casual ease of a brother. “It’s too early to be worrying about that stuff now. Besides, us pro players hardly have any personal time. Don’t go messing around and wasting some poor girl’s time…”

“Mm,” Shen Ju responded.

He added firmly, “Captain, your top priority now is leading us to Worlds. No dating, no distractions.”

“Alright, alright. So what shall we eat now? Eh, that place looks good for fish, let’s try it. It’s your captain’s treat today.”

After the meal, they returned to the hospital. The X-rays were already out.

Doctor Cen put on his reading glasses again, frowning as he examined the images.

The consultation room fell eerily quiet. Everyone held their breath.

After a careful review, Doctor Cen finally relaxed his brow. “You haven’t been training heavily lately, so it’s not the worst outcome for now. We’ll keep monitoring it closely.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Lin Jiang pressed further. “Is there a risk of it worsening?”

“Definitely,” the doctor said, “but as long as you keep applying the medicine, follow the doctor’s orders carefully, and don’t overdo your training, there shouldn’t be any major problems.”

He handed them some prescriptions and arranged a few treatment sessions.

Ryan volunteered to handle the payment for them.

Outside the hospital, Lin Jiang finally allowed himself a relaxed smile. “See? I told you there was nothing serious. You all were way too nervous.”

Shen Ju turned his face away. “The doctor said it’s not a big problem, not that there’s no problem. Captain, your hand injury is more serious than mine. You’ll have to control your training volume from now on.”

Lin Jiang, having been through this before, was indeed making a conscious effort to control his training intensity. Still, some things were unavoidable, like 5v5 training matches, duo queues with A’Deng, and solo matches against Song Zhixu.

Shen Ju seemed to read his thoughts. “I’ll accompany Song Zhixu in his solo games. You just focus on duo queuing with A’Deng.”

Truthfully, mid lane and top lane mechanics shared many similarities, and Lin Jiang was proficient in top lane play. His guidance was invaluable for Song Zhixu’s training.

Meanwhile, Shen Ju played AD.

His expertise lay more in kiting techniques, which weren’t as helpful for Song Zhixu.

Lin Jiang vaguely brushed it off. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now, I feel fine. It wouldn’t be right for me to stop all training.”

Shen Ju wanted to say something but held back.

Ryan finished paying the medical bills, collected the medication, and led them back. This time, she’d clearly learned her lesson about booking the car—the back seat was roomy, and the two of them sat comfortably without crowding each other.

Yet as they rode, Shen Ju couldn’t shake a lingering sense of regret.

He gazed absentmindedly out the window at the passing traffic, a wave of melancholy washing over him.

How could the Captain be straight…?

Back at the base, the team dropped their training and bombarded them with questions about their conditions.

Lin Jiang reported the good news but hid the bad: “Nothing serious, just need to apply some ointment.”

Shen Ju shot him a long, thoughtful look.

But he didn’t expose the truth.

After all, from now on, he’d be watching the captain—and that hand—very closely.

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