TCWSITD – Chapter 31.1

Chapter 31 has 2 parts; 31.2 will be uploaded tonight at 20:00 EST

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[To that friend who swore he’d chop off his own head and send it to OT as a toilet—your head’s ready for shipment.]

The moment the results were announced, public opinion exploded. All of KUG’s hype and slick marketing instantly turned into a laughingstock.

No amount of pre-match praise for Alike, no flood of snide comments from KUG fans, could change the simple truth: KUG had lost to OT.

Two games, two completely different playstyles.

Lin Jiang completely crushed Alike.

Netizens mercilessly unleashed their mocking skills—

[Other teams buy players to strengthen themselves, but you’re cutting off your own arm?]

[Is there a team more brain-dead than KUG?]

[When is KUG disbanding? I really don’t want to see them at all.]

[Just losing Lin Jiang and your strength drops this badly?]

[Back then, it was your dad who carried you into Worlds. Now that you’re popular, you just toss him aside?]

KUG was being trampled into the ground.

Meanwhile, OT’s entire roster was rising to stardom.

Song Zhixu’s ultimate resilience under pressure, A’Deng’s instinctive jungle pathing, Shen Ju’s newfound restraint, and Zhou Wen’s unique strategic thinking—all of them were shining brightly.

Ever since Lin Jiang came aboard, each of them has grown into a player who can carry their own weight.

[A fun fact for you: When KUG was barely hanging on, it was Lin Jiang who carried the team. This year? Lin Jiang’s not there to carry anymore.]

[Hahaha, don’t tell me anyone actually thinks Alike and Lin Jiang are on the same level?]

[All I can say is, if you’d watched a couple more years of matches, you wouldn’t think that.]

Longtime fans know the truth—it was Lin Jiang who turned that tiny 0.5% chance into a miracle. He won over the skeptical LCK fans, clinched the double crown, and from there, KUG’s dynasty and the LPL’s golden era were born.

It was never KUG who made Lin Jiang.

It was Lin Jiang who made KUG.

After losing the match, KUG’s reputation plummeted. The overwhelming pressure from public opinion left them gasping for air, and the marketing team pulled an all-nighter scrambling to draft PR strategies.

That very night, a wave of suspiciously polished posts began to surface quietly—

“KUG is still adjusting,”

“KUG has never missed Worlds since its founding,”

“The only double-champion team in LPL history.”

“Alike wasn’t feeling well.”

Under the flood of marketing, the online narrative gradually began to shift.

With such a massive fanbase, it wasn’t hard to find believers—some fans genuinely thought KUG just slipped up, that they still had what it takes to make it to Worlds.

“Given KUG’s current state, even making it to Worlds will be tough.”

“Think about it—this year TG, YIG, SNG, which one isn’t better than KUG? They couldn’t even beat OT. You think they’ll make it through regional qualifiers? Come on. They’ve had half the Summer Split to ’adjust,’ and this is all they’ve got?”

“Let me tell you something, guys—OT is really strong right now. Their lineup is just unbeatable. The top lane can tank, the duo carries can output, the support has tricks, and the jungler occasionally pulls off some genius plays. It’s practically the dream roster for this meta. I’ll go as far as to say OT absolutely has what it takes to go to Worlds. If you don’t believe me, let’s bet. If I’m wrong, I’ll send you a five-figure red envelope.”

Old Mao was naturally biased toward Lin Jiang, and by extension, OT. He admitted that he might have exaggerated some parts, but he certainly wasn’t lying.

And it wasn’t just Old Mao. Some streamers and industry insiders who were close to Lin Jiang said the same thing. Gradually, some of the misled fans began to wake up.

[What kind of adjustment period is this? It’s already been half a season, and they’re still adjusting?]

[They made it to Worlds every year because of Lin Jiang.]

[Take a guess—who do you think got you those two championships?]

[Lose a match and it’s “he was sick,” win and suddenly he’s unbeatable?]

[Only your players get sick, huh? What, you think no one else ever played while ill?]

Soon, the claim about Alike being sick was debunked too.

Someone had snapped a photo of him pinning Lin Jiang against the sink in the restroom, looking perfectly energetic. Did that look like someone who was sick?

Furious fans lashed out at KUG’s official accounts, and the team’s marketing strategy ended up backfiring.

According to insiders, KUG spent two million on PR but still couldn’t counter Lin Jiang’s overwhelming public support. In the end, they had no choice but to retreat and endure the ridicule.

That’s the thing about esports—everything else is fake. Only results are real.

At this moment, the atmosphere inside KUG was heavy. No staff dared to speak.

Then, a rumor surfaced in a small group chat—

[Young Master He had stepped in.]

[For real?]

[Why?]

[What happened? Spill the details!]

The group chat continued to leak information—

[Apparently, Young Master He had used his highest authority to reclaim decision-making power over the team and was now scouting for a new project manager. The previous one was likely on his way out.]

[Wait, the project managers got fired?]

[Wasn’t he related to Young Master He?]

[I thought Young Master He personally handed over the decision-making rights back then. Why take them back now?]

[No idea, but the higher-ups are all walking on eggshells.]

[KUG is really about to undergo a major change.]

Suddenly, they found themselves missing the days when Lin Jiang was still part of KUG.

Back then, the team stood at the pinnacle of the league—and they got to ride the wave of that glory, bask in reflected light.

Now? No one even dared to admit they were KUG staff in public.

—Too afraid of being mocked.

The dismissal of two KUG managers in quick succession sparked widespread speculation within the industry. Theories about the true boss behind KUG were all over the place.

Over the years, He Gu had never participated in any industry-related events—no public appearances, no involvement, not even a single public photo.

It was as if he were just the owner by name.

No one expected this incident to finally drag him out of the shadows.

[Didn’t Old Mao accidentally spill once that Lin Jiang had a good relationship with KUG’s founding boss?]

[Founding boss? You mean the biggest one? The young master of the He family?]

[Oh my god, did that whole situation with Lin Jiang being forced out get Young Master He’s approval?]

[If he did, you think those two would’ve been fired this fast?]

[Serves them right! They nearly ran KUG into the ground!]

The news gave KUG fans hope. They flooded KUG’s official accounts, pleading for the big boss to personally intervene and buy Lin Jiang back.

After all, OT’s penalty clause wasn’t that expensive.

Some even went to Lin Jiang’s livestream and comment sections, begging him to return.

Lin Jiang had originally planned to post an official statement.

But when he opened the comments—?

[OT_sgod: Get lost.]

[OT_sgod: Get the hell out of here.]

[OT_sgod: Screw KUG and their bull *** t.]

Lin Jiang took a deep breath. “Shen Ju’an, come with me to the balcony.”

Song Zhixu watched the whole thing unfold through the window like it was a drama. Shen Ju lowered his head to take the scolding, not daring to utter a word.

Lin Jiang gave him the full diplomatic treatment: logic first, feelings second. Once the point was made, he let him go.

Then, just as some wannabe influencer tried to ride the hype wave, reminiscing tearfully about Lin Jiang’s past with KUG and earnestly wishing he’d go back—

Shen Ju appeared in the comments again: [Clout-chase your f***ing dad.]

The streamer protested, “I’ve been a loyal KUG fan for ten years! Can’t I just share a little opinion?”

Shen Ju: [Honestly, you sound like you’ve had a brain clot for a decade.]

The streamer was so furious he lost his cool, cursing wildly in his livestream. Shen Ju promptly reported him, and the stream got shut down immediately.

After this showdown, no one dared to freeload off the hype again.

Netizens all exclaimed, “Gotta hand it to Dog Shen.”

Thus, Shen Ju happily earned himself another trending topic and got called out by Lin Jiang for a lecture.

Meanwhile, Duren approached the boss about how to deal with the situation.

The boss, who had never been fond of KUG to begin with, finally felt satisfied after reading Shen Ju’s remarks. “Isn’t he just saying what needs to be said? No punishments here.”

Left with no choice, Duren replied under a netizen’s comment: [Shen Ju’`s personal behavior, not representing OT.]

And so, the hashtag #OTApprovesShenJuBehavior trended, leaving fans in stitches.

They also launched a #ProtectOurLinJiang campaign, ruthlessly crushing KUG fans’ schemes.

From then on, all of KUG’s marketing efforts failed miserably, forcing them to focus solely on the competition.

During this period, OT secured three consecutive victories, losing only one match to TG, bringing their overall score to 11-1.

Current Summer Split top five rankings:

1st place: TG 13-0

2nd place: YIG 12-1

3rd place: OT 12-1

4th place: SNG 11-2

5th place: KUG 9-4

The season was nearing its end, and the rankings were mostly set.

However, OT had yet to face YIG and SNG. If they lost to SNG, the standings could still shift.

After checking the rankings, Song Zhixu was already nervous. ““TG is insanely strong this year. They’ve only dropped two small games[mfn]This means they lost one game/round but still won the match with a 2:1 score.[/mfn]—it’s like their entire team is flawless.”

Even with all their preparation, OT had felt completely outmatched when facing TG.

And after that loss, Lin Jiang grew noticeably quieter.

Song Zhixu stole a glance at Lin Jiang making a call on the balcony, unease creeping in. “Who do you think the captain’s calling? Could it be KUG’s higher-ups?”

A’Deng also leaned in, concern etched on his face. “He wouldn’t abandon us, would he?”

Zhou Wen carefully analyzed, “It’s possible. KUG’s been trying to reconcile with him lately.”

Song Zhixu’s heart sank.

“Shen Ju, bad news—something big’s happened!”

Shen Ju was changing clothes when he heard Song Zhixu coming upstairs, so he quickly put them on.

Song Zhixu burst through the door in a panic. “Shen Ju, something’s wrong! The captain’s been on the phone all day. I don’t know if it’s those idiots from KUG trying to reach him…”

At the mention of KUG, Shen Ju’s expression visibly darkened.

He trailed Song Zhixu outside and saw Lin Jiang carefully swap out his jacket, tucking the OT logo out of sight. Grabbing his phone, he headed out the door.

“Look, look, look!” Song Zhixu fumed. “KUG definitely called him out!”

Without hesitation, Shen Ju decided to follow and see what was going on.

Lin Jiang didn’t go that far. He took the elevator downstairs and stood on the adjacent street for a while, checking his phone occasionally as if waiting for someone.

Song Zhixu fumed, “KUG really has some nerve! They actually dared to set up a meeting right outside our building!”

Before long, a sleek luxury van pulled up at the curb. Lin Jiang bent down, apparently talking to someone inside.

Song Zhixu grabbed Shen Ju’s arm in a panic, “They’re about to take him away! Should we try to stop them?”

No matter how crazy KUG is, there is no way they would be bold enough to meet here.

Shen Ju’s gaze sharpened. So who was Lin Jiang meeting?

Lin Jiang didn’t get in the car. Instead, someone inside handed him a bag.

Then a pair of slender arms and a beautiful leg wearing a high heel stretched out, signaling Lin Jiang to give a hug.

Lin Jiang, clearly annoyed, muttered something.

But the person inside wasn’t backing down—they even stomped their foot like a spoiled child.

Left with no choice, Lin Jiang sighed and reluctantly scooped them up for a hug.

Because their view was blocked, no one knew what they were doing inside the car. When Lin Jiang came out, his clothes were clearly disheveled.

He glanced around nervously, spoke briefly with the person inside, grabbed the bag—which was obviously from some high-end designer—and headed upstairs.

In just five minutes, a ton of information had been revealed.

The woman inside the car was very rich; the cheapest thing she had was that chauffeur-driven car.

Despite his impatience, Lin Jiang still indulged her every whim.

And Lin Jiang clearly didn’t want others to know about their relationship.

Shen Ju and Song Zhixu were both silent for a moment.

Song Zhixu scratched the back of his neck and forced a sheepish smile. “Well, the captain’s 21 now… dating is pretty normal at this age.”

After saying that, the two of them fell silent again.

Song Zhixu scrambled to justify it further. “And the captain didn’t look too thrilled about it. Maybe she’s the only one who really wants this…”

But he trailed off halfway through. Sure, he knew the captain was bound to date someday, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.

It was an indescribable feeling, like something had clogged his brain, leaving him dazed and hollow, unsure what to do.

He looked away, suddenly miserable. “Shen Ju… does this bother you?”

Shen Ju kept his head down, strands of hair falling over his eyes, and no one could tell what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, Shen Ju grabbed Song Zhixu by the collar. “Come on, let’s go ask him.”

Song Zhixu panicked. “Ask him what?”

“Ask him if he has a girlfriend.”

Song Zhixu yelped and jumped back, his bravado lasting all of three seconds before he wilted. “I-I can’t…”

He and Shen Ju were two different types of people.

Shen Ju would dig until he got answers, while Song Zhixu preferred to let things slide.

And whether it was true or not, he didn’t want to know. He just wanted to keep things vague, to keep interacting with Lin Jiang the way he always had.

He thought weakly to himself, “Actually, things are pretty good like this. As long as Lin Jiang is still here, I’ll be happy everyday.”

“You know it too. Lin Jiang is an outstanding person. Sooner or later, he’ll leave—whether it’s about love or the team, there’s no holding him back.”

Shen Ju glanced up at Song Zhixu and was struck by how serious and clear-headed he looked for the first time.

Was he really the only one who cared this much?

The wind brushed through Song Zhixu’s hair as he quickly reverted to his carefree self. “Let’s just focus on the playoffs. Ah, making money is my lifelong pursuit.”

He turned and walked upstairs, humming as if nothing had happened.

Shen Ju was left behind, unsure of where to go or what to do.

If he was destined to leave, then why had he come into his life in the first place?

Why give him hope, only to shatter it?

With a heavy heart, Shen Ju climbed the stairs. He saw Lin Jiang laughing and chatting with Song Zhixu and the others, his eyes always filled with a gentle warmth that could drown a person.

Lin Jiang smiled at him. “What’s wrong, Puppy Shen? Looking gloomy again?”

His heart pounded once more.

Truth be told…

Song Zhixu wasn’t entirely wrong.

As long as Lin Jiang was still around—even just for one more day—then that day was worth smiling for.

Shen Ju turned his face away, pretending he hadn’t seen anything downstairs, and threw himself into training.

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