TCWSITD – Chapter 9

A top-tier player like Lin Jiang must have strict standards for his teammates, right?

A’Deng played the entire game with extreme caution, his mind flashing back to the warning messages his friends had sent him:

[Be careful. A new broom sweeps clean[mfn]新官上任三把火 (xīn guān shàng rèn sān bǎ huǒ) – lit. the new boss cracks the whip three times (proverb); when someone new takes over a position of authority, they tend to make many changes, often sweeping away old ways of doing things[/mfn]. And you’re the jungler—he’s definitely going to make an example out of you…]

[Don’t mess up. If river gets you kicked off the team, you’re really done for…]

When Song Zhixu got ganked and killed twice while he still hadn’t found his rhythm in the jungle, his arm trembled uncontrollably.

He was going to get chewed out by the captain…

“A’Deng.”

He snapped to attention. “I’m clearing the Krugs! After this, I’ll take the river crabs, prepare vision for Baron, and maybe gank top!”

Hearing him rattle off like beans spilling from a bamboo tube,[mfn]竹筒倒豆子 (zhú tǒng dǎo dòu zi) – to come clean; (idiom) meaning to speak quickly and without holding back, often used humorously or to show panic[/mfn] Lin Jiang laughed. What he actually meant to say was: “Your blue buff got stolen. Just go invade their jungle—I’Il cover you.”

A’Deng had already braced himself for a scolding, but to his surprise, Lin Jiang was actually offering to protect him while he farmed the enemy’s jungle camps.

A warmth spread through his chest.

After clearing the enemy’s lower jungle, the game’s tempo suddenly shifted back in their favor.

A’Deng realized that Lin Jiang was actually an incredibly strong player—but why wasn’t he playing aggressively in this match?

Curiously, he opened Lin Jiang’s stats panel and saw that he had a huge advantage over the opponent—it is clear from his CS[mfn]creep score – gaming term; a player is earning more gold and experience by “last-hitting”, allowing them to purchase items and become stronger[/mfn]. Yet, he hadn’t gone for kills, nor had he roamed much. Instead, he had kept the enemy mid laner trapped, slowly grinding them down.

Could it be…?

To confirm his suspicion, A’Deng stealthily moved toward mid lane for a surprise gank. Lin Jiang gave him a quick glance. “No need to come mid. Just play at your own comfortable pace.”

Just as he suspected, Lin Jiang had been adjusting his own playstyle to match A’Deng’s rhythm. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on his teammates, so he had played conservatively the entire round.

A’Deng had expected him to come in and flex his strength, to show them just how wide the gap was between a god-tier player and the rest.

But instead… the captain had been quietly supporting them the whole game.

As A’Deng secured the dragon, a firm thought settled in his mind—when this game ended, he was going to set his friends straight. They had it all wrong. Lin Jiang wasn’t that kind of person at all.

By the 15-minute mark, the enemy mid laner typed in all-chat.

[Enemy Mid Laner: Brother Jiang, what’s with this new playstyle? Like Rong Momo, just poking but never killing?]

[Lin Jiang: You talk too much. Focus on your lane.]

The enemy mid laner appeared to be begging for mercy, but it was actually a feint.

Their jungler had already looped around from behind, exploiting a blind spot in the vision ward, and struck with a Flash-R[mfn]R key is used to activate a champion’s ultimate ability; so this move is Flash + Ultimate[/mfn]. Yet even in such a dire situation, Lin Jiang still managed to Flash away and escape—his reaction time was a jaw-dropping 0.2 seconds.

[Enemy Jungler: ?? Dude, what kind of reaction speed is that?!]

[Lin Jiang: I had vision.]

A’Deng, watching from the sidelines, was stunned: !!! What vision?! There was no ward there!

The enemy jungler deliberately timed his Flash-R, striking the moment the ward expired. Even A’Deng had already counted Lin Jiang as dead.

Yet, having no vision, Lin Jiang purely relied on his hand speed to dodge the enemy’s gank! And after narrowly escaping, he casually claimed there had been a ward—just to save the enemy some face[mfn]留了面子 (Liúle miànzǐ) – left the opponent some dignity[/mfn].

A’Deng’s pulse was racing. He finally understood what it was like to be on the same team as a top player. Watching matches from a spectator’s perspective could never compare to experiencing it firsthand.

Lin Jiang… truly lived up to his reputation as one of the top three mid laners in the LPL!

A’Deng felt a surge of respect and unconsciously raised his standards, constantly reminding himself to play better—just to be worthy of being on the same team as OT’s Lin Jiang.

By the 25-minute mark, the game’s outcome was all but decided.

Top lane had completely collapsed by the 20-minute mark, with Song Zhixu dying four times despite his best efforts.

Jungler A’Deng hadn’t contributed much—he barely ganked and lagged behind the opposing jungler’s tempo.

Lin Jiang, despite his lane dominance, had intentionally refrained from taking kills, ending up with a passive 0/0/1[mfn]K/D/A – Kill, Death, Assist[/mfn] score.

The only real advantage lay in the bot lane. The enemy duo’s skill was average, with poor coordination between their AD and support. Shen Ju crushed them in lane, while Zhou Wen roamed mid and even helped secure a kill.

Judging by the game’s momentum, both teams were even in gold, but a well-fed top laner had greater impact than an AD carry. As a result, OT’s overall combat strength was slightly lower than their opponents’.

Old Mao teased in all-chat.

[Old Mao: What’s wrong, A’Jiang? Getting rusty?]

Lin Jiang simply smiled and let it slide—but Shen Ju suddenly snapped back.

[Shen Ju: Talk when you’ve actually won.]

[Old Mao: ???]

[Old Mao: What the hell is your problem, Shen Ju?]

Song Zhixu and A’Deng gasped in unison. Even Zhou Wen paused mid-play to glance at Shen Ju.

Shen Ju immediately straightened his keyboard. Just as it seemed like another verbal fight—like the one from the livestream the other day—was about to erupt, Lin Jiang quickly stepped in: “Shen Ju, mute the enemy team.”

After a brief silence, Shen Ju actually deleted the message he was about to send and muted the opponents without another word.

Teammates: !!! Shen Ju actually listened?!

Old Mao on the opposing side was waiting for Shen Ju to trash-talk him back, but after a long pause, the chat remained dead silent.

…Weird. Why did the silence feel even more unsettling?

After muting all-chat, Shen Ju played like he had activated cheat codes.

With flawless operation, he crushed the bot lane, then rotated top to face the well-fed Old Mao. Relying on excellent kiting—and with Old Wen’s support—he turned the fight around and secured the kill.

Old Mao was killed so many times that he fell behind in farm, and gradually ceased to be a threat. The advantage gradually shifted to OT’s side, and Lin Jiang led them to a clean win.

The next two games followed a similar pattern. As they played on, Song Zhixu became more stable, Shen Ju’s farming speed increased, and even A’Deng began playing more aggressively.

Lin Jiang was quite satisfied with the results of this training match. After thanking Old Mao, he went to review the data with the coach.

During today’s training match, he realized Shen Ju was even stronger than he had imagined. In a meta where AD carries had been nerfed, he still managed to consistently farm under pressure and find the perfect positioning for damage output.

Was this the real reason OT was able to go toe-to-toe with strong teams last year?

Lin Jiang found himself re-evaluating everything. Watching Shen Ju quietly play without ever saying a word to his teammates, he suddenly turned to the coach and asked, “Is Shen Ju always this silent?”

The coach nodded. “He never listened to the previous captain’s orders. After every training match, the two would end up fighting.”

This was quite different from Lin Jiang’s impression.

He recalled that when Shen Ju first debuted, he was not even 17 years old. With his refined features, he looked like a young master straight out of a TV drama.

His striking looks, standout charisma, and overwhelming in-game talent had instantly catapulted him to fame, earning him the title “Esports Crown Prince.”

Lin Jiang still vividly recalled the first time they met in person.

Shen Ju had sat upright in his seat, so ethereally[mfn]不食人间烟火 (bù shí rén jiān yān huǒ) – lit. not eating the food of common mortals; fig. placing oneself above the common populace[/mfn] well-behaved it was impossible not to take a liking to him.

So when the opponent deliberately targeted him and messed with his mentality during the match, Lin Jiang didn’t hesitate to say: “AD, come mid and farm.”

He didn’t know what happened afterwards, but Shen Ju suddenly became a different person.

He lost his temper and hit the team’s mid laner on the head, which led to a league suspension and contract termination. For a whole six months, he was left without any matches to play or teams to join.

His personality grew increasingly withdrawn, and in the end, only a bottom-tier team like OT was willing to take him in.

At first, he performed well and nearly changed OT’s fate. But soon, he clashed with the team’s mid laner, his form declined, and with the reduced importance of AD carries, OT once again sank to the bottom of the rankings.

Lin Jiang withdrew his gaze, exchanged a few words with the coach, and packed up his notebook to wrap up the day’s training match.

Outside, Song Zhixu was joking with teammates. As soon as he saw Lin Jiang come out, he eagerly scurried over. “Captain, did I embarrass you today?”

Lin Jiang glanced at Shen Ju, who was also looking up at him, then smiled, “You did okay, no embarrassment.”

Song Zhixu perked up. He could actually feel his improvement over these matches.

He clung to Lin Jiang, practically wishing he could tie himself to his belt.

“Captain, captain, are we playing another training match with them tomorrow? Am I still up against Old Mao? Captain, I feel like I’m not scared of him anymore. Did you see that earlier play when their jungler ganked top? The moment I saw Old Mao’s fake move, I knew the jungler was coming—and I was right…”

His incessant chatter filled the training room, a stark contrast to Shen Ju’s silence.

Shen Ju queued up, preparing to quietly play ranked, when a shadow suddenly fell over him—it was Lin Jiang, handing him a notebook.

“I’ve put together some training tips for you. Take a look when you have time.”

Shen Ju took the notebook and glanced at the first tip.

Play duo queue more often with Old Wen.

He let out a snort of laughter.

Old Wen had his own training methods and didn’t like duo queuing with him— and Shen Ju was used to playing solo anyway. They hardly communicated in private.

To him, Lin Jiang didn’t understand him at all—didn’t understand OT either.

He tossed the notebook aside and silently entered the game.

While selecting his champion, he received a message from Old Wen: [Hey, uh, Shen Ju… The captain said we should play duo more often and try out some new strategies. I think what he said makes sense. Wanna try a game together?]

Shen Ju’s fingers paused.

His gaze drifted back to Lin Jiang’s notebook. Beneath the first entry, several more handwritten notes followed.

Mute opponents at the start of the game.

If you’re pissed, go ahead and flame—just remember to mute after.

Rest more. Your wrists are under too much strain.

.
.
.

Don’t stay up late. Dark circles don’t suit you.

Eat more of Auntie’s cooking, less instant noodles. You’re still growing.

Surprisingly, every one of the ten suggestions Lin Jiang gave him was very practical.

Staring at the cup of instant noodles he had just made, Shen Ju realized he had grown used to cutting himself off from others that even something routine as meals had become a solitary habit.

What happens when someone completely cuts themselves off from everyone else?

Shen Ju didn’t have the answer.

All he knew was—it felt like someone was reaching out, keeping him from slipping too far into the dark.

***

After giving the notebook to Shen Ju, Lin Jiang pulled Song Zhixu aside onto the balcony. Song Zhixu was a little scared. “Captain, why didn’t you call the others? Why just me?”

Lin Jiang leaned against the railing and stared at him for a long moment before suddenly asking with curiosity, “How did it feel to die twice at Level 5?”

Song Zhixu’s face instantly flushed red. He stammered for a long time, then looked at him with eyes glistening like a pitiful puppy. “Captain, did I embarrass you?”

“No,” Lin Jiang suppressed a laugh. “Old Mao asked me to check on you. He said it’s been a long time since he saw such a clear-headed yet so dumb top laner. He’s kinda curious what was going through your mind back then.”

Now Song Zhixu wasn’t just blushing on his face—his neck turned crimson too.

He knew he’d played foolishly in that moment, but knowing it was one thing; hearing it come from Lin Jiang’s mouth was another.

Trying to mask his embarrassment with a smile, he gave Lin Jiang a pitiful look. “So… Captain, do you also think I’m the biggest problem on the team?”

Lin Jiang replied, “Not really.”

The biggest problem in the team is actually the jungler, so much so that even Lin Jiang himself wasn’t confident he could train him properly.

“But you do have one serious problem.”

Song Zhixu perked up his ears.

Lin Jiang fought back a chuckle. “Can you change your ID? Old Mao was just saying how such a decent player ended up with such a ridiculous ID.”

Song Zhixu scratched his head sheepishly. “Sorry, Captain. I’ll change it as soon as I get back.”

Lin Jiang nodded, signaling he could leave.

During evening practice, Lin Jiang walked by with a cup of coffee and noticed Song Zhixu had changed his ID from “This Lane Will Collapse” to “Weak Voice, Hungry Yet?” prompting and suddenly spit out his coffee.

“Song Zhixu.”

“Here!”

“Come out with me for a moment.”

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