TCWSITD – Chapter 8

This was Lin Jiang’s first time organizing a training match for the team.

Du Lun took it very seriously and immediately called Song Zhixu to instruct him. “I’ve got something this afternoon and won’t make it back. Help me oversee things.”

“Old Wen doesn’t like training matches, so make sure to prepare him mentally. Lin Jiang just joined our team—if anything feels off, just hang in there and keep the team harmony in mind.”

“And also A’Deng, tell him not to be nervous and just play like usual.”

“The most important is Shen Ju. Whatever you do, absolutely do not let him argue with Lin Jiang, otherwise it will really be over…”

A big part of why the previous mid laner fled overnight was because of Shen Ju.

Neither of the two would admit defeat to the other; they’d fight at the slightest disagreement. While other teams’ trending topics were about ‘rising stars’ and ‘promising futures,’ Shen Ju’s headlines were always—#Shen Ju Clashed With The Captain#, #Shen Ju Clashed With The Captain Again#.

“Don’t worry, Old Du,” Song Zhixu said, his expression more resolute than someone joining the Party[mfn]入党 (rù dǎng) – to join a political party (esp. the Communist Party); a humorous exaggeration implying extreme determination[/mfn]. “I’ll go give them a pep talk right now!”

He started by mentally preparing Zhou Wen, A’Deng, and Zheng Yu, then turned to look for Shen Ju—only to find him already in the training room.

At this moment, Lin Jiang had also wrapped up his work and, with nothing else to do, stood behind Shen Ju, quietly watching him play ranked.

Now, it must be said that Shen Ju’s temper when playing ranked was even more explosive than a powder keg. Whenever something went wrong, he would immediately grab his keyboard and start cursing.

The league had already penalized Shen Ju countless times for this behavior. Some of the more serious incidents even came with threats of suspension. Still, he did as he pleased, leaving the officials gnashing their teeth in frustration.

If Lin Jiang saw that temper, he would definitely call him out!

And Shen Ju would absolutely jump up and argue back!

In that split second, Song Zhixu had already imagined a dozen worst-case scenarios. He rushed downstairs in a panic—but he was still a step too late.

After getting killed again while desperately trying to farm, Shen Ju slammed his keyboard once more: [What’s the jungler doing? Is the mid laner brain dead? Is the support playing with crap? And the top laner is trash and still dares to ping me?]

Song Zhixu, unable to stop him in time, covered his face in despair.

It was over. Completely over.

He’d already started mentally rehearsing how to grovel in apology—only to hear Lin Jiang let out a soft laugh.

It wasn’t mocking. Lin Jiang was genuinely laughing—with a warmth that carried a hint of softness, even indulgence.

Shen Ju recognized his voice.

He didn’t know how long Lin Jiang had been standing behind him. Just thinking about his outburst moments ago made him feel uneasy.

Would Lin Jiang end up hating him too?

Just like all the others—those people who once said they wanted to be friends with him, only to eventually distance themselves and betray him.

They said they didn’t mind, but deep down, they all hated him.

Shen Ju tightened his grip on the mouse.

The grayscale screen reflected Lin Jiang’s silhouette as he leaned in. “No wonder you keep getting banned with that kind of trash talk. Hand me the keyboard. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Lin Jiang’s slender fingers reached past the gaming chair, and his typing was just as fast as Shen Ju’s:

[Jungler, stop sightseeing. If you’re that eager for a stroll, bring your girlfriend next time.]

[Mid, quit showing off. Your plays aren’t impressing anyone.]

[Support, why the rush? Rushing off to the civil affairs bureau for a divorce? Wait for me to say OK, got it?]

[It’s been 25 minutes, and the top laner’s still harping about something that happened at 7. Why don’t you start from the dawn of time[mfn]开天辟地 (kāi tiān pì dì) – to split heaven and earth apart (idiom); refers to the Pangu creation myth[/mfn] while you’re at it?]

After Lin Jiang’s sharp words, the entire team fell silent like magic. No one typed another word. Everyone just focused on playing the game properly.

Shen Ju’s breath hitched.

Lin Jiang’s sleeve brushed lightly against the back of his hand—cool to the touch, leaving behind the faintest trace, like a passing breeze.

Shen Ju caught a subtle scent on him—cool and refreshing, like mint with a hint of rosemary.

The keyboard was returned to him.

Only then did Shen Ju realize he’d been holding his breath.

He held his breath as the figure on the screen stood up. A voice, tinged with quiet amusement, came from behind him.

“The last time we played together was during the league’s friendly match, right? Even back then, I thought you had great talent. Your ability to find opportunities for damage output was impressive. Two years later and you’ve only gotten better.”

Shen Ju’s fingers tensed.

He hadn’t expected Lin Jiang to remember that friendly match from two years ago.

His champion respawned. The brightened screen no longer allowed him to see Lin Jiang’s expression. Shen Ju’s thoughts were in disarray; unsure what to say, he just replied with a simple, “Mn.”

Song Zhixu rushed in, sleeves rolled up, ready to intervene in case of a fight. But to his surprise, the usually rebellious, hot-headed mad dog—Shen Ju—was behaving obediently this time.

Song Zhixu looked utterly bewildered.

Lin Jiang turned around and asked him. “Did you inform them?”

“Yeah, I did. They’ll be down soon.”

Acting like an eager suck up, Song Zhixu scooted closer. “Captain, who are we playing in the training match this afternoon? You’ve already arranged it?”

Lin Jiang poured himself a cup of water. “It’s a secret.”

“Captain,” Song Zhixu started to act coquettishly, “just give me a little hint so I can mentally prepare myself. I don’t want to go up there and embarrass you…”

After filling his cup, Lin Jiang leaned back against the cabinet and looked at him. “You’re facing Old Mao in the top lane.”

Song Zhixu: !!!

“Wait, Captain—I’m going against Old Mao? He used to dominate the top lane before he retired! There’s no way I can beat him… Captain, please, I’m begging you—let someone else take my place. I’ll get absolutely destroyed…”

Lin Jiang gave him a warm smile.

But he still mercilessly rejected Song Zhixu’s plea.

He put away his smile and looked at him seriously. “Old Mao was one of the first players to receive formal training. His playstyle is textbook-perfect. I think you’ll learn a lot from him.”

Song Zhixu suddenly realized Old Mao might have been specially invited by Lin Jiang for him. He awkwardly withdrew his hands. “Th-then… thank you, Captain.”

“No need for thanks—we’re teammates.”

Song Zhixu immediately lit up like a sunflower. “Captain, how about a cup of coffee? This machine may look ancient, but the brew is amazing…”

At the computer, Shen Ju’s lips were pressed into a hard line. With a perfect dive into the enemy team’s backline, he chained his abilities for a full team wipe.

After the game was won, Shen Ju turned around—Lin Jiang was no longer behind him. His gaze flickered to Song Zhixu, who was shamelessly showing off by the coffee machine, while Lin Jiang leaned against the cabinet, watching him with an amused glint in his eyes.

…Lin Jiang seemed to look at everyone that way. Even a tree or a lamppost would probably get that warm, dewy-eyed gaze.

Shen Ju: …

At noon, the cooking auntie prepared a sumptuous lunch for them. Once they finished eating, it was time to officially begin the training match.

Before the Summer Split begins, all clubs arrange training matches to help their players familiarize themselves with opponents and maintain their form.

However, because OT’s ranking was abysmally low, many teams were unwilling to scrim with them, leaving Du Lun no choice but to schedule matches against teams like VT.

This meant OT kept playing with other mediocre teams, never able to improve their strength.

Lin Jiang figured that since the team couldn’t schedule training matches with others, he might as well form one himself. Fortunately, he had good connections, and Old Mao had a strong influence in the circle. Soon, they formed a five-man group made up of retired players, popular streamers, and solo queue kings[mfn]路人王 (lù rén wáng) – highly skilled solo queue players who aren’t pro but are very strong[/mfn].

Old Mao entered the lobby and immediately started showing off: “How’s the lineup I got you? I didn’t lie, right? Their lane pressure[mfn]LoL term describing the ability to control or outplay an opponent in lane[/mfn] is at least WS-tier—good enough for your training.”

Brother Jizhi, who’d been dragged into the lobby: “What do you mean you pulled me in? I only came for A’Jiang’s sake. Stop taking credit.”

Listening to their bickering, Lin Jiang chuckled helplessly: “You guys aren’t streaming, right? Keep this training match under wraps for me.”

Old Mao: Don’t worry, not a word’s getting out.

Old Mao: Everyone in yet?

Song Zhixu, who’s already in the lobby: (kneeling)[mfn]跪 (guì) – kneel; a humorous gesture online where someone pretends to kneel/slip to show begging or pleading, often in chats or memes[/mfn] Big brother, go easy on me…

A’Deng (nervous): Hello, everyone.

Zhou Wen looked at the lineup of famous IDs, quietly rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Only Shen Ju hadn’t joined yet. He entered last and, unfortunately, got automatically assigned to Old Mao’s team, with no way to switch sides.

Old Mao stared at the ID of the guy he’d trash-talked just last week and fell silent. And it wasn’t just him—nearly all the teammates he’d brought in had also clashed with Shen Ju before.

The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.

Song Zhixu was about to offer to leave the lobby so Shen Ju could switch over, when Lin Jiang kicked him out with a decisive click and said, “Shen Ju, come here.”

That “come here” was firm and commanding, giving off a sense of someone standing up for him. Shen Ju switched sides with a click.

Old Mao muttered a few words but didn’t press any further.

With Shen Ju now in the right lobby and the extra player swapped back, Song Zhixu rejoined the lobby, filling the last spot.

Both sides were ready. The Champion Select screen began.

Lin Jiang disconnected from Old Mao’s voice chat and joined their own team’s. “We won’t ban any of their champions this round. I want you to feel their laning pressure.”

His voice was calm and serious, instantly transforming what should’ve been a casual training match into something that felt as tense as an official match.

A’Deng sat upright with a solemn expression. Even Zheng Yu, who was just spectating from behind, felt the pressure to some degree. So this… was the aura of a top-tier player?

Because they didn’t ban any champions, Old Mao and his team all got their signature picks. Song Zhixu stared at the enemy’s Renekton and felt his vision dim. “Captain, Old Mao’s Renekton is definitely going to chop me to death.”

Lin Jiang laughed mercilessly. “Then try not to get chopped to death, or at least die a little less miserably.”

Song Zhixu logged in with a tear-streaked face. His current mindset perfectly matched his smurf account’s ID: This Lane Will Collapse[mfn]此路必崩 (cǐ lù bì bēng) – lit. this lane will collapse; a self-deprecating gaming slang, used to admit defeat in advance[/mfn].

On the other side, Old Mao burst out laughing when he saw the ID. “He’s an LPL top laner—how could he pick such an embarrassing name…”

Sure enough, as the game started, Old Mao did exactly as he promised—flattened Song Zhixu in lane. Song Zhixu had picked Ornn this round, and no matter how he played, he couldn’t fight back at all.

At Level 6, the opposing jungler came for a gank. Old Mao immediately used Flash to stun him, followed by an empowered Q[mfn]Red Fury[/mfn] that chopped off half his health. With the jungler’s help, they easily secured the kill.

Song Zhixu was on the verge of tears. After respawning, he teleported back to lane, only to miss half a wave of minions—and still hadn’t reached Level 6. The moment he dared show his head, the opposing jungler, who had been camping him, dove the turret and sent him back to base again.

By the time the opposing Renekton hit Level 7, he was still a pitiful Level 5 Ornn, trembling under his turret…

If it were the usual Song Zhixu, he’d be used to this kind of humiliation. A little more wouldn’t make much difference.

But today, for some reason, he found himself caring far too much about what Lin Jiang thought.

He stole a glance at Lin Jiang in the mid lane. He probably hadn’t seen his stupid plays, right? Just as Song Zhixu relaxed a little and quietly bought items, Lin Jiang’s voice suddenly came through his headset: “Song Zhixu.”

Song Zhixu’s hand jerked. “Here!”

Lin Jiang held back a laugh, “No more dying.”

Song Zhixu flushed all the way from his neck to his ears. “Yes, Captain!”

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