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The stands were howling like a storm. The crowd in the auditorium shouted and cheered as they watched the intense battle unfolding in front of them on many screens between team 'Happy' and team 'Heaven's Roar' in the decisive teamplay stage of the match. The air felt electrifying – it was a fight for a place in the semi-finals. Everyone gave all they had.
On one of the screens, the players' avatars moved among the virtual scenery of the game area, a ruined city littered with debris, fire traps and narrow passages. The fighting was fierce. The 'Heaven's Roar' played aggressively, ruthlessly, pushing 'Happy' to the edge. Ye Xiu, who had been separated from his team, was trying to get back to them, but a couple of players got in his way. Distracted, he didn't notice in time that his team started to lose ground.
"Captain! We're pinned down!" Yifan's voice tore through the chaos.
On the screen, his team's health went down drastically. Only Yifan, Bao Ji, and Mucheng remained, their HP slipping away like sand through the fingers.
Ye Xiu glanced at the mini-map. Three red markers surrounded his team, and two more were approaching him from behind. He narrowed his eyes, calculating the trajectory. His fingers shifted across the keyboard.
"Ten seconds and I'm here. Hold on," he said calmly, but the restrained determination in his voice felt like steel.
He took a detour, deftly avoiding the attacks of his two opponents. Dodging spells and throwing knives, he waited for the enemy's abilities to go on a cooldown before jumping into the fray. And soon was able to do just that – but not before Mucheng received a fatal blow.
"I'm down…" she sighed disappointedly and took off her headphones.
Ye Xiu was left with just two: Bao and Yifang, who held on as best they could. The umbrella was spinning, the flamethrower scorched the space. The game had reached its peak.
"Captain, I'm at five per cent," Bao Ji said desperately, dodging the attack.
"Understood, cover me."
"Got it."
The Brawler leapt in front of the Captain, distracting his opponent. Using this small break, Ye Xiu activated the healing spell, increasing Bao Ji's HP to fifteen per cent.
"Thank you, Captain!" Bao smiled.
"Captain! On your left!" Yifan suddenly exclaimed.
With a lightning-fast movement, Ye Xiu jerked his mouse, making his character roll to the side. The Assassin's punch passed him by, but in the same second, a sharp pain stabbed his wrist. He flinched, but didn't stop. His concentration was absolute.
A fire attack, then combo, then block. One of their opponents fell, and another followed. The two that ran after him took a bit of effort, but Yifan's combo immobilised them, and Ye Xiu immediately drew his sword from the umbrella to land a slashing blow, reducing their HP to zero. Bao finished off the last one.
The screen lit up with a golden flash. Victory and the emblem of Glory appeared. The whole room froze for a moment and then exploded with joy.
"We've won! We've won!" Bao Ji jumped from his chair, pumping his fists into the air.
The entire team cheered, some were clapping, some hugged each other. Ye Xiu, on the other hand, exhaled deeply, taking his hands off the keyboard, and leaned back in his chair. His heart was pounding in his chest like a drum.
"Captain, you're something else! You showed up just in—" Bao Ji turned towards him, but stopped mid-word. Noticing his silence and a pale face, others too looked at the Captain, and one by one their smiles too began to fade away.
"What?" frowned Ye Xiu, noticing their gazes. "What is it?"
He looked at Mucheng, who slowly stood up, staring at him intently.
"Why are you all looking like that?" His voice became tense.
"Captain..." Bao whispered and pointed at him. "Your hand…"
Ye Xiu looked down to see his right hand… trembling. He tried to make a fist, but the shaking wouldn't stop. Frowning, he examined his fingers, then his wrist, perplexed by his body's refusal to listen to him.
It was Mucheng who came to her senses first and, swiftly walking over, took his hand in hers, gently but firmly.
"Are you hurt?" She sounded collected, professional.
"I… I don't know," he answered slowly. "I dodged the blade and something… twisted in my wrist." He tried to clench and unclench his fist again. "I can't stop it."
Muchen exhaled sharply and turned to the team:
"We're leaving. Now. Just say goodbye to the other team and go straight home. Pretend like nothing happened. Understood?"
"Yes," the others replied in unison, instantly becoming serious.
She turned to Ye Xiu.
"Get up," she said, helping him up. "Put your hand in your pocket. No one needs to see it."
He nodded. His face remained calm, but his insides were twisting in knots. Mucheng put a hand on his shoulder and walked him to the door.
"Remember: keep a straight face. Act normal," she reminded the others, who nodded resolutely in response.
She opened the door, and they walked out onto the stage full of light and deafening applause as winners. But only one thought was on the team's mind at this moment:
What's happening to the Captain?
The fans cheered when team 'Happy' lined up for a farewell handshake with the opposing team. Ye Xiu was first in the line, as calm and relaxed as always, with his right hand in his pocket.
Towards them, to an equally loud ovation, came the 'Heaven's Roar', with their Captain Zhou Lei – a reserved and direct man – in the front. He casually extended his right hand as required by the League's long-standing code.
"Good game," he said, and there was no trace of irony in his voice, only the respect earned in the fight.
Ye Xiu bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, and as if he didn't notice the offered hand, he just calmly extended his left one.
"Yeah. You were really strong."
Zhou Lei blinked and, frowning slightly, looked down at his right hand, hidden in the pocket. Still, he remained silent and, after a moment of hesitation, switched hands without a word, shaking Ye Xiu's with a barely perceptible nod. This gesture was slightly slower than usual and therefore more noticeable to those who knew what to watch for. Yet, no one at Ye Xiu's side said a word.
The next in line was Yifan, who stepped forward and, without hesitation, extended his left hand in the same way.
"Thank you for the fight," he said firmly.
The player in front of him looked surprised when he shook it. Then Mucheng did the same to her opponent, then Bao Ji. And then the rest of the team, one by one, extended their left hand, as if nothing strange was happening.
The 'Heaven's Roar' were clearly taken aback. Some looked confused, some hesitated, as if they didn't know what to do. But seeing that all of the members of team 'Happy' were acting in the same way, they eventually adjusted, accepting this unspoken but clear signal.
Ye Xiu watched them. Looked at the faces of his comrades, feeling a smile tugging his lips, soft, warm. Almost touched. That small gesture, that coordinated support meant more to him than a thousand words. They had his back, without words, without orders. Simply because a team was more than just a fight.
He had never felt more grateful.
When the handshake exchange was over, they began to walk down the stage where the rest of the team 'Happy' was waiting. There was still some applause, some cheering was heard from the stands, but it all sounded far away now.
Chen Guo ran towards them, beaming as she always did after a match. There was sincere pride in her voice, trembling from the tension, when she said:
"Good fight! You did well, guys, well done."
But as she took a closer look, the smile began to fade. The faces of the players, which shone just a moment ago on the stage, became tense, their smiles strained, their movements slightly abrupt and unnatural. They looked as if they braced themselves before the storm.
"Is something wrong?" She said with sharp alarm in her voice, her gaze darting from one player to another until it stopped on Mucheng.
"Boss, we have a problem," she said calmly, but with cold seriousness in her voice, and stepped forward, putting one arm around Ye Xiu's shoulders and firmly gripping his forearm with the other. She turned to the rest of the team. "Guys, could you please…"
There was no need to finish. The team reacted instantly, as if they had carefully rehearsed this manoeuvre. They surrounded the trio in a tight ring, shielding them from view. Some shifted a little to the side, some began to talk actively, as if there was a heated discussion going on inside the circle – some even waved their arms, creating the illusion of an ordinary discussion of tactics or a plan for the semi-final. But each of them knew: they were now a living wall protecting their Captain.
Mucheng leaned over to Chen Guo and, after making sure that no one around was eavesdropping, quietly said:
"We need a doctor. Now."
She carefully took Ye Xiu's right hand out of his pocket, as if it weren't a hand but something fragile that could shatter with one unnecessary movement. It was still trembling violently, a sharp, disturbing tremor that could no longer be ignored.
"But this must remain between us, Boss."
Chen Guo flinched upon seeing this; panic flashed across her face, but she immediately pulled herself together. An instant later, her expression turned rigid, resolute.
"Got it," she said. "I have an acquaintance, someone I trust. He won't ask too many questions. I'll call him as soon as we get out of here."
She took a step back, lifted her chin and addressed the team in a loud, businesslike tone:
"All right, guys, let's move! We still have to strategise for the semi-finals. Don't relax!"
The players immediately began to disperse as instructed. Some stretched, some sighed noisily, feigning fatigue. Everything looked the same as it always did after a tough match. But inside, each of them felt the air growing heavier.
When they were approached by the reporters at the very exit, Chen Guo stepped in front of them, spreading her arms as if trying to shield them:
"I apologise," she said clearly and confidently. "There will be no interview today. The players are tired after a difficult match. They need to recover and prepare for the next stage. We thank you for your support!"
A few outbursts, a couple of disgruntled exclamations – but no one argued. Her voice was too firm, gaze too confident.
The minivan pulled up just in time, slowing gently at the back entrance. One by one, in a tight formation, the 'Happy' players climbed inside. Ye Xiu sat in the back seat, pressing his sore arm against his chest. Mucheng sat next to him, not taking her gaze away from him. She was silent, but her hand – warm and firm – rested on top of his, as if preventing the pain from crossing over.
Chen Guo claimed the front seat, took out her phone and quickly dialled the number.
"Hello. It's me," she said briskly. "We have an emergency, need you to take a look. Privately."
She cast a glance in the rearview mirror, and for a moment her eyes met Ye Xiu's, who gave her a slight nod, as if in gratitude.
The car started, taking them away from the stadium, into the silence of the night city, where the actual world lay, that cared little for astonishing victories and lights of the arena.
The internet cafe was noisy as usual. The ground floor was buzzing with talks, constant clicking of keyboards, clacking of mouses, shrieks of victories and quiet grunts of defeats. The air smelled of fresh coffee, snacks and a characteristic scent of overheated computers.
But on the second floor in the team's base area, the silence reigned, which felt almost oppressive. The blinds were down on all the windows, the doors closed and locked, accessible by staff and team only. The rooms, which were usually bustling with life, became a closed fortress.
The tactical room was the centre of that tension. Ye Xiu sat at the round table, slightly hunched over, as if trying to minimise his own presence. His left hand was pressing a cold compress to the wrist of his right hand, which lay on the table, trembling and restless, as if it didn't belong to him.
Mucheng sat beside him with a hand on his shoulder – a calming gesture, though restrained. Chen Guo paced back and forth; her gaze clouded with thought. The others stood silently against the wall or sat, hesitant to speak, as if any sound could upset the fragile balance of the room.
Suddenly, the door clicked open, and Yifan entered.
"He's here," Xiao said quietly.
Behind him, a man walked in, short, in a dark jacket and with a brown suitcase in hand. He looked like an ordinary technician, but he had a look of confidence and experience.
Chen Guo immediately walked over to the doctor and closed the door behind him.
"Shiyu, thank you for coming. Did anyone suspect you?"
"All is clear," he replied with a slight smile. "I introduced myself as a technician, saying I came to fix the router. The suitcase is disguised as you asked."
He gestured at the square suitcase with a neutral tag in his hand, which, apparently, hid everything he needed for a quick medical exam.
"Great," Chen Guo exhaled with visible relief and turned to the team. "Guys, this is Zhao Shiyu, a doctor I know. He made time for us."
"Nice to meet you," some of them said quietly; the rest nodded politely in greeting.
"So, who is our incognito patient?" The doctor asked.
"I think it's me," said Ye Xiu with a crooked smile.
"Ah, now I see why all those theatrics are necessary," the man joked, recognising the cyber sports star, and stepped closer. "It's an honour, Mr Ye."
Bao Ji silently pulled a chair closer, and the doctor nodded gratefully as he sat down.
"Show me your hand. And tell me what happened."
Ye Xiu removed the compress. His hand was still trembling, though not as violently as in the first few minutes after the match.
"It happened during the game. I had to quickly dodge the attack – the movement of the mouse was sharp. I felt a prick in my wrist… but I didn't pay attention at the time. I played until the end. It was only after the fight that the guys noticed my hand was shaking. I didn't even feel anything was wrong."
Shiyu slowly, carefully took his hand, moving it with professional caution.
"And now? The trembling hasn't lessened?"
"Only slightly," Mucheng echoed instead. "It's as if… It's still vibrating."
"I see. Can you move your fingers?"
Ye Xiu obeyed. There was movement, but subtle twitches continued to run through his fingers like electricity.
"Pain?"
"It's dull. Not sharp, but unpleasant."
The doctor started to gently palp his wrist, checking for sensitivity, mobility, and assessing the condition of the ligaments. He frowned when he finished, but didn't voice his conclusions. Then he slowly released his hand, took out an elastic bandage from his suitcase, a sling and a small bottle of a cooling gel.
"It looks like a tendon injury or a torn ligament. I can't tell without a scan. You'll need to do an X-ray tomorrow morning; I'll arrange it privately so no one will know."
"And in the meantime?"
"I'm going to fix your wrist so there's no unnecessary movement. You won't be playing. At all. Not even to train. Ideally, complete rest for the next few days."
He began to bandage the hand carefully, securing the joint. The cloth felt soft against his skin despite the tightness of a bandage. Ye Xiu remained silent, feeling Mucheng's gaze on his face as another physical touch.
"How long… how long until I'm able to play?"
"Two or three weeks – with a proper rest and treatment, of course."
He frowned, his gaze dropping to his bandaged arm.
"Is there any way to speed up the process?" His voice was steady, but there was a restrained anxiety ringing through it.
"Ye Xiu," Mucheng said warningly, instantly catching the direction of his thoughts. Her hand gripped his shoulder tighter, as if to keep him from taking a dangerous step.
"I'm afraid not, Mr Ye," the doctor replied calmly but firmly, looking him straight in the eye. "Damage to the tendons of the wrist can turn into serious complications if ignored. It is one of the most delicate areas, with many delicate ligaments, nerve endings, and joint nodes."
"But…" Ye Xiu sighed heavily, lowering his head. He slowly squeezed his bandaged hand, as if he wanted to stop its shivering by the sheer force of will. "We have a match in two weeks. It's the semi-finals. I can't not play."
The silence once more filled the room, as the team held their breath.
"I'm sorry, Mr Ye," Zhao Shiyu finally said with a note of sincere sympathy. "I realise how important this is. But I can't say anything other than the truth."
He looked away for a moment, as if weighing his next words:
"Tomorrow we will do an X-ray. Only after that will I be able to accurately assess the extent of the damage. But… from what I'm seeing now, this is not a minor injury. Your tremors haven't subsided even hours after the match. This is a sign of inflammation or tearing, and it can't be ignored."
Ye Xiu exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, as if trying to shut himself from the world around him.
"What will happen if I do play?" His voice was soft, but it sounded heavy in the silence of the room.
"Captain!" Bao Ji exclaimed, his tone reproachful and frightened at the same time. "You can't be serious!"
The team broke in indignation, half-drowning out each other's words with their shouting. Tension instantly filled the room like a storm cloud.
"Ye Xiu, you can't do that!" Chen Guo said, frowning. She stepped closer, as if wanting to be close by, to support, to prevent.
Mucheng silently squeezed his shoulder, her message clear. But he didn't respond.
"I want to hear the answer," he said clearly, silencing the team, and looked up at the doctor.
Zhao Shiyu looked at him, then looked at the rest of the team, all of whom were visibly worried. And only then did he reply:
"The consequences could be serious. Especially for a professional player like you." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. "Injured ligaments and muscles, if you stress them too soon, don't just fail to recover. They get re-injured. A relapse would be almost inevitable. Deepening inflammation, pain strong enough to stop you from controlling the mouse properly and playing. Even one match could put you out of action for a month or two. And the next time, it might not be as easy to heal."
The room froze. No one dared to even move.
Ye Xiu nodded slowly, lowering his gaze to his bandaged hand.
"I understand," he said quietly. "Thank you, doctor."
Zhao Shiyu held his gaze on Ye Xiu for a moment, then shifted it to Chen Guo, who shook her head.
"Well…" Shiuy said softly, straightening up. "I'll leave you some painkillers in case the pain gets worse. But please don't abuse it. I'll see you at my place tomorrow. I'll send the details to Chen Guo."
He closed the brown suitcase and snapped its locks shut.
"Thank you very much, doctor," Mucheng bowed her head with a restrained but sincere smile.
"Yes, thank you, doctor," Bao Ji, Yifan, and Tang Rou echoed her, respectful and grateful.
"I'll walk you out," Chen Guo said quietly and headed for the door.
Shiyu nodded, took one last look at the team and followed her. The door closed softly, leaving a silence in the room – heavy, deafening and drenched in anxiety.
The tension in the room became almost physical by the time Chen Guo returned, her face calm, but her eyes betraying anxiety. Closing the door behind her silently, she nodded barely noticeably at Ye Xiu, bringing Mucheng's attention to him once more.
He was still hunching over his bandaged hand, not taking his eyes off it, as if it was both his ruin and salvation. And also, as if he was on the verge of making the stupidest decision in his life.
Mucheng pressed her lips together, the resolve in her eyes stronger than steel.
"Guys," she said clearly, without hesitation, "can you give us a few minutes?"
The team looked at each other. The silence hung like a thread ready to break.
"Mucheng, maybe…" Bao Ji started hesitantly, but one stern look from her and he trailed off in shame, looking as if he had been caught trying to skip practice.
"Okay," he muttered eventually and moved first to the door.
"Let's go, guys, let's go," Chen Guo picked up, guiding them towards the exit.
Already near the end, she lingered at the door and gave one last understanding nod to her friend before leaving.
When the door closed and silence once again filled the room, Mucheng stepped closer. Ye Xiu did not move. His hand was resting on his lap, and his gaze was fixed on it, as if struggling with something inside.
"Don't even think about it," Mucheng said firmly. There was a note in her voice that he hadn't heard in a long time, one that made everyone in the Excellent Era involuntarily straighten up.
He raised his head and tilted it to the side with a slight, almost cheeky smile.
"What?"
"You heard me, Xiu," she said, crossing her arms. "Don't even think about playing."
He exhaled quietly and looked away as if she'd caught him in the act.
"But if I can recover quickly… it could still work out. It's the semi-finals. We're going for the championship title. We can't afford a mistake."
"Can you afford a disability?" Her voice became sharper. "Health doesn't regenerate like mana in a game. It's not the numbers. It's your hand. The one that gave you your name, your career, your recognition. And you want to bet it all on one match?"
He squeezed the bandaged hand; the pain from her words penetrated his chest to the very core of his being.
Mucheng crouched in front of him and silently placed her palm over his hand, feeling it tremble through the bandage – a sign of troubles awaiting them down the line if they were not careful.
"You scolded Wei for playing injured," she reminded him gently. "And now you're doing the same yourself. Do you really think this match is worth losing everything?"
He looked at her. There was anxiety, fear, and tenderness in her gaze – but also the pain that he wanted to protect her from, even if he had to fight the whole world.
"Please…" she whispered. "Don't do this. So, what if we lose the semi-finals? We will still have you. That's not a defeat, it's a victory. One match is not worth your sacrifice. You… you're precious to us. To me."
She exhaled as if this admission had cost her everything.
"You're my family, Ye Xiu. And I don't want to lose you to your stubbornness, to your sense of duty or to this. Please…"
He absorbed her every word quietly, saving every one in the depth of his soul. The sight of her tears was like a blow to the chest. And she shouldn't cry. Not because of him.
He reached up and gently touched her cheek, gently wiping away the traces of emotion that had broken through.
"Don't cry," he whispered. "You know I can't stand it."
She squeezed his palm.
"Then promise me."
He looked into her eyes, as if looking for the faith in him he was close to losing. And then he sighed in defeat and nodded.
"Fine. I won't play, I promise."
"Not just in this match. You won't go until your arm is fully healed."
"Okay. What you say goes."
She smiled through her remaining tears, and so did he. Then she leaned closer, and without a word, he embraced her, tightly, gently. As if trying to tell her something he couldn't yet do aloud.
"Promise," she repeated into his chest.
"I promise," he said quietly, but with the same unshakable confidence that only she knew.
After a while, the door of the tactical room creaked softly, and Ye Xiu stepped outside. The light from the corridor softly illuminated his face, which was no longer as tense as before. He looked calm… but there was a depth to this calmness, like the sea before the storm.
The team waited before him, inwardly preparing for the worst. Ye Xiu glanced at each of them, the corners of his lips quivered slightly in a familiar smile. He took a step forward, and Mucheng followed close behind him with a subtle, quiet confidence of his closest friend, his support – of a wall behind his back.
"Well…" He took a breath, as if bracing before a storm. "You'll have to fight without me, boys."
There was fear in the eyes of some, a short, sharp flash. Some slightly opened their mouths, some tensed, and only silence answered him in the first few seconds. But Ye Xiu continued, already softer, with the same warmth that had always distinguished him from the others.
"I know you can do it. You are strong players, and it is because of you that we got so far at all. Because of our cohesion, our trust and support. You are what pushes the team forward. And I believe that victory will be ours – because I believe in you."
He spoke sincerely, and that made every word sound twice as loud.
"But… Captain…" Yifan began uncertainly, his gaze darting to his bandaged hand. "What about you?"
Ye Xiu also lowered his gaze to the white bandage clearly marking his limits. Only then did he raise his eyes to the team again.
"As for me…" He shifted his gaze to Mucheng, and there was a quiet, subtle relief in his voice. "I will join you when my arm is fully healed."
He spoke in the same tone as she had before, acknowledging and accepting her words. And to this, she responded with a light, warm smile.
Ye Xiu straightened, his voice becoming more confident:
"In the meantime… I will help you with tactics and strategy. We will dissect each of them, calculate every map, and learn the opponents' behaviour by heart. I'll do everything I can to make sure you're ready. But on the field, the main variable won't be tactics. The main variable is you."
He shifted his gaze to Yifan.
"Yifan. You will assume the role of Captain."
The man froze, his face a mixture of shock, fear, and responsibility. But then he squared his shoulders, as if remembering what his mentor had taught him all along. He took a deep breath, raised his head, and nodded.
"Aye, Captain!" He said loud and clear, leaving no doubt.
Ye Xiu nodded and looked over his shoulder at Mucheng.
"Mucheng will be the vice-captain."
Without waiting for confirmation from the others, she stepped forward confidently, her voice firm.
"Aye, Captain!"
And at that moment, a glance passed between them. A moment in which there was no need for words. Everything was already clear.
"The others are in their positions," he finished. "Training will go as scheduled. We still have our goal, and we're going to get to it."
There was silence for a second, and then, as if on cue, one by one the team members nodded. Not just obediently – respectfully, conveying their faith and readiness. The crew didn't just hear an order from their Captain: they heard that he was still with them.
And that was enough.