TCWSITD – Chapter 5

“The transfer window has already closed, and there’s still no news about river.” In the OT training room, top laner Song Zhixu tapped lazily on his keyboard. “Do you guys think he might be unemployed this season?”

Next to him, jungler A’Deng was in a crucial moment of contesting the Baron but failed to [Smite] it. He groaned in frustration, “Ugh, why am I so unlucky today?”

Song Zhixu leaned past him. “Old Wen, have you been online lately? Do you know about river leaving his team?”

The support, Old Wen—real name Zhou Wen—had a temperament as gentle as his name.

Normally indifferent to Song Zhixu’s chatter, he unexpectedly responded today when the topic turned to river, a player he had always admired.

“He probably doesn’t have a team to join. The transfer window closed too fast—even if a club was interested, there wasn’t enough time. Honestly, this might be for the best. Better for river to take half a year off than settle for something worse. He can look again next season.”

“Tsk tsk, that’s rough. KUG’s really acting like a scum.”

After he spoke, Song Zhixu suddenly thought of something and perked up. “Hey, do you think river might come to our team? Don’t we just happen to need a mid laner? What if he had a moment of madness, or got hit on the head by a cup or something, and suddenly decided to join us?”

“river won’t come to our team.”

Zhou Wen said with certainty, “A player of his level puts all his focus on making it to Worlds. OT just doesn’t have that kind of potential.”

Song Zhixu felt that talking to Old Wen was painfully boring—he had no imagination at all.

He looked past Old Wen toward the person inside.

“Hey, Shen Ju, the transfer window’s already over, and we still haven’t signed a mid laner. Do you think our team’s about to disband? And when it does, where will you go? Going back home to inherit the family fortune?”

Shen Ju’s fingers flew across the keyboard, too busy roasting people to pay attention to him.

Once the game ended, the system immediately muted his chat privileges. After a wave of reports, his account was suspended for two days.

It was the second account he’d lost this month.

Both accounts had dropped to Diamond I. In this patch, trying to climb solo as an AD carry was pure hell—worse than eating dirt.

Shen Ju let out a bitter sigh and left the training room without looking back. The brim of his cap pulled low couldn’t hide the cold aura around him.

Song Zhixu felt a bit scared. “What’s up with Shen Ju lately? His temper’s so bad he’s about to tear down the club. A few days ago, he even had an online spat with the hugely popular streamer Old Mao, stirring up a whole mess.”

Zhou Wen knew some of the truth. He gazed thoughtfully at Shen Ju’s retreating figure. “Shen Ju might really have to go back and inherit the family business. Last time, I heard Old Du say his dad gave him an ultimatum: if he doesn’t achieve anything this year, he’s being sent abroad to study and banned from esports for life.”

Everyone in the scene knew Shen Ju came from a well-off family—a true “Crown Prince” in the esports circle.

Rumor had it that several major investors in the industry had close ties with Shen Ju’s family, pampering him like a favored younger relative. Even when he offended them, they didn’t take it seriously. That’s why he could trash-talk everyone in the league without facing consequences, and why other clubs gave him leeway despite his behavior.

But Shen Ju was notoriously rebellious. He refused to follow any path his family laid out for him. Even when he entered esports, he didn’t want to join the team his family had picked. They tried everything to stop him, but in the end, had no choice but to give him three years.

And this year was his last shot.

“Maybe Shen Ju is really going to leave.”

The training room fell silent for a moment.

A’Deng, wearing headphones, had no idea what they were talking about. He just kept slamming his keyboard and groaned in frustration. “How’d they steal the dragon again?”

Song Zhixu might’ve been the team’s clown—always goofing off and playing the fool—but thinking of his longtime teammate possibly leaving still left him feeling a little bitter.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on someone else’s misfortunes. “Forget it. I’m just a servant—why pity a rich and pampered master? I should focus on figuring out how to grow sweet potatoes to feed myself…”

***

The transfer process was extremely complicated—especially for a player of Lin Jiang’s caliber.

Du Lun had been running around for nearly a week and only just managed to finalize everything before the transfer window closed.

After handling internal matters, he still had to figure out how to explain the situation to the public. He spent hours discussing with the operations department, but they still hadn’t decided how to announce Lin Jiang’s arrival to the team.

If they made it too grand, they feared KUG’s fans would lash out—especially since even a star like Alike had received only a brief, low-key welcome at KUG.

But if they kept it low-key, they worried Lin Jiang might feel slighted. After all, a player of his stature deserved some respect, right?

When Du Lun tactfully probed, Lin Jiang simply said, “Just a simple announcement. I don’t care about these things.”

This really put Du Lun’s mind at ease. That very night, he personally drafted the announcement—thanking Lin Jiang for joining and simultaneously revealing the Summer Split roster.

[ Starting Top: OT_Metoo (Song Zhixu)

Starting Jungler: OT_lamp (Jiang Mingwei)

Starting Mid: OT_river (Lin Jiang – Captain)

Starting ADC: OT_sgod (Shen Ju)

Starting Support: OT_Winker (Zhou Wen)

Substitute Jungler: OT_xiaoyu (Zheng Yu) ]

At first, hardly anyone paid attention to OT’s roster. Even their own fans just glanced over it quickly and posted half-hearted[mfn]不痛不痒 (bù tòng bù yǎng) – lit. doesn’t hurt, doesn’t tickle (idiom); superficial; perfunctory[/mfn] “good luck” messages before moving on.

But about half an hour after the official account posted it, someone finally noticed something off. “Wait, Lin Jiang actually went to OT?”

The hashtag #LinJiangJoinsOT quickly climbed to the top of the trending list.

Before people clicked the trend: [Impossible, absolutely impossible.]

After clicking the trend: [!!! This is insane!”]

No one knew how OT managed to sign Lin Jiang, and the comments section was flooded with messages like “kneeling down.[mfn]internet slang used when showing extreme respect or amazement (also sometimes disbelief)[/mfn]”

There are 17 teams in the LPL, and Lin Jiang was clearly a top-tier player competing for Worlds. He should have been going to a team in the top-five, not OT—who had finished dead last in the Spring Split.

What exactly is Lin Jiang thinking?

After the roster was announced, Lin Jiang’s phone blew up. He turned off his work number and only kept his personal number open, but the messages kept pouring in.

Old Mao: [What the hell??? Are you out of your mind?]

Brother Yu: [If I’d known you were going to OT, I would’ve brought you to our team.]

Zeng Yuan: [My god, do you mean that OT? That team at the bottom-tier?]

Brother Jizhi: [Holy shit, you’re serious?]

A’Wen: [Do they have some dirt on you or something…?]

Lin Jiang had been keeping a low profile these past few days—no livestreams, no ranked games, barely any contact with friends, and no replies to messages.

When the official roster was finally announced, what followed wasn’t nervousness or panic, but a slow and settling calmness.

This was the path he had chosen. Now that the decision was made, it was time to move forward with confidence.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Du Lun: [Manager Du, I’m all set on my end. When can I report to the team?]

Du Lun: [Perfect! If possible, let’s do it tomorrow.]

Lin Jiang: [Sounds good.]

He exited the chat screen, opened OT’s official account, and casually reposted it with the caption: [Let’s move forward together.[mfn]携手并进 (xié shǒu bìng jìn) – joining hands and advancing together; used formally to express unity, teamwork, and shared progress.[/mfn]]

***

At that moment, chaos erupted in OT’s internal chat. Du Lun had done an excellent job keeping things under wraps, and the sheer absurdity of the idea meant none of the players had even considered it a possibility.

So when Du Lun suddenly dropped the roster into the group chat—with Lin Jiang listed as the starting mid laner—everyone was stunned.

A’Deng: [Wait, Lin Jiang is joining our team?]

Song Zhixu: [Impossible, absolutely impossible! This has to be one of Old Du’s tricks!]

Zhou Wen: [There’s no way. Lin Jiang would never come to OT.]

Then the substitute, Zheng Yu, suddenly yelled, “Ah! Look at the official account!”

Song Zhixu opened the official account and saw Lin Jiang’s repost. Only then did he belatedly realize: “Holy crap, Lin Jiang really joined our team…!”

Clatter—Zhou Wen’s mouse slipped from his hand. Normally calm and composed, he practically lunged to check his phone. “river actually came?”

Before going pro, Zhou Wen often watched Lin Jiang’s matches. Even after becoming a professional player himself, he still looked up to Lin Jiang as his role model.

Unfortunately, the gap between them was too big, and to this day, they had never crossed paths. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect Lin Jiang to join OT.

“Oh my god!”

“I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Fearless as ever, Song Zhixu ran over and yanked off Shen Ju’s headphones. “Bro, you don’t have to go back and inherit the family fortune! We’ve got a new mid laner on the team! He’s gonna carry you to victory!”

Shen Ju was suddenly pulled and made a mistake that led to his death.

Just as he was about to mutter something like, “a loser[mfn]臭鱼烂虾 (chòu yú làn xiā) – lit. stinky fish and rotten shrimp (idiom); used to describe something that is disgusting, low-quality, or undesirable[/mfn] dares to carry me?” he caught sight of the phone screen showing: [OT_river (Lin Jiang)]

Shen Ju thought he was seeing things. He grabbed the phone, zoomed in on the screen, and confirmed it was indeed Lin Jiang’s name.

Song Zhixu’s voice rang in his ears: “Hahaha, bro, surprised or what? Old Wen said OT really hit the jackpot this time. If KUG hadn’t blocked his contract renewal, Lin Jiang wouldn’t have ended up on our team!”

“Yesterday I was still worried about what would happen if you left—and then Old Du pulled this stunt!”

Shen Ju stared fixedly at the name on the roster.

Lin Jiang. river.

Anyone who plays professionally knows that name, and Shen Ju was no exception. Back when Lin Jiang competed at Worlds, Shen Ju stayed up late with his roommate, nervously yet eagerly waiting for the matches to start.

Among so many professional players, Lin Jiang always stood out. He was confident, strong, tolerant, and gentle. His skills and character were so perfect that he was practically the dream of every pro player.

Shen Ju was known for trash-talking almost everyone in the league, yet he had never once criticized Lin Jiang.

Every time he matched with Lin Jiang during queues, whether winning or losing, Lin Jiang would single-handedly hold the front line.

When they were winning, he carried. When they were losing, he tanked.

And then there was that classic line: “It’s okay. I’m on my way.”

Later, when Shen Ju started playing professionally, he was once teamed up with Lin Jiang in an online friendly match.

He was getting demolished in his lane, and the opponent was spamming emotes to taunt him.

Shen Ju would never forget what Lin Jiang—already a top-tier player at that time—said over voice chat: “It’s fine. AD, go mid and farm. Just focus on scaling.”

Thinking about these things, Shen Ju suddenly felt a little uneasy. He handed the phone back and subconsciously tuned into his teammates’ conversation.

“Quick, slap me—am I dreaming?”

“This is Lin Jiang we’re talking about! I could die without regrets[mfn]死而无憾 (sǐ ér wú hàn) – means not to regret anything even if one dies[/mfn] just being on the same team as him.”

When he was younger, Shen Ju once envied the players of KUG for having such a great captain. He used to wonder how amazing it would be to have one like that himself.

Now, four years had passed in the blink of an eye, and the perfect Lin Jiang from his memories had actually come to his team—and became his captain.

***

Author’s Note:

Shen Ju: Thanks to KUG for gift-ing me a wife.

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