The comments read:
—This guy is way too young. Competitive play these days is all about strategy and tactics. Even if he maxes out his APM, he’s clearly lacking in experience!
—Exactly. I looked up his account on the tournament server, and he hasn’t even made the top hundred! Is RG holding back some kind of trump card, or are they getting ready to take a massive dump in the second stage?
—But credit where it’s due—the player is seriously handsome! I’ve got a feeling Legend might make a comeback this year. Looks are everything now; traffic follows a pretty face.
—I agree. RG is probably trying to bring more female viewers into the scene. Our community’s been stagnant for ages—sigh, everyone’s just trying to survive.
There was plenty of discussion online, and opinions on the new player were sharply divided. Many people claimed the photos were fake. What he really looked like would only be known once he played an offline match.
Wen Bin was also a longtime gaming nerd. He had played Legend in elementary school, but its strategy-combat esports scene had only remained popular until he was in high school, quickly being replaced by more entertaining 5v5 MOBA games.
“It’s taken care of.” Qiuyun returned after making a phone call. “Their behavior violated public decency, so their accounts have been banned by the platform.”
Wang Lan gave her a thumbs-up. “Finally, they were efficient for once.”
Pei Cizhou sent over the information on the person who had appeared on camera, along with a question: How do you want to handle this?
Liang Ping, an agricultural university student. Small, creepy-looking, and dissatisfied with his real life, he was viciously foul-mouthed online—harassing and slandering bloggers everywhere, making tasteless, vulgar memes.
Qiuyun scrolled through several posts, then contacted bloggers he had harassed before. She offered to pay for lawyers to help them take legal action against him.
But on one condition: the entire process had to be filmed as a vlog. First, to utterly ruin the man’s reputation; second, to show others who had been harassed that taking legal action was not as difficult as they might think.
At that moment, Lin Chengjun stood up with a glass of wine in hand. “Come on, everyone. We’re all gathered here today thanks to Boss Qiu generously treating us. Let’s raise a glass to Boss Qiu!”
Throughout the day, quite a few people had found Lin Chengjun unbearably pretentious. They were all around the same age, yet he insisted on acting like some successful man of the world, constantly trying to lecture everyone about rules and etiquette.
Still, they were eating and drinking on someone else’s dime, so they had to give him some face. The class monitor took the lead in standing up to echo him. “That’s right—let’s thank Boss Qiu!”
Lin Chengjun stopped the class monitor. “Hey, Class Monitor! Let’s not overcomplicate it. The guys drink baijiu, the girls drink beer. Since when do people make a toast without drinking?”
With a few words, he had put everyone on the spot again.
Young people these days generally did not care much for drinking. Only a few of the guys had had some beer with the crayfish, while not a single woman had touched any alcohol.
The atmosphere turned a little awkward. Qiuyun set down her phone and lifted her glass of soda, gesturing for the class monitor to sit. “No need for a toast. Let’s just have something non-alcoholic. The main reason I invited everyone out for food and drinks this time was to thank you for voting for my younger brother. Next week is the final showdown, so if you have time, please vote for him again.”
Once the person who had actually organized the gathering spoke up, Lin Chengjun—who had been loudly egging everyone on—looked like nothing more than a clown.
Wang Lan was the first to respond. “Don’t worry. Not only will I vote myself, I’ll get everyone in my dorm to vote too!”
Qiuyun took a small sip of her drink. “Thank you, everyone.”
It was no longer a matter of freeloading, but a thank-you with proper recognition. The atmosphere finally eased, and everyone promised to vote for Qiu Ze.
Seeing that Qiuyun disliked this sort of thing, Lin Chengjun quickly poured himself another glass and came over to toast her alone. “Boss Qiu, Boss Qiu, I have to toast you personally. It’s fine if you don’t like alcohol. You can drink your beverage, and I’ll drink mine!”
With that, he downed the entire glass in one gulp, then deliberately turned it upside down to show that not a single drop remained.
Qiuyun crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her chair, watching his performance with an impassive expression.
After finishing, Lin Chengjun filled his glass again and held it up in front of Qiuyun, hoping to clink glasses with her. “We’re old classmates, Boss Qiu. Give me some face?”
To be honest, people like him, who only knew how to scheme and cultivate drinking-table connections, who lacked ability yet still wanted shortcuts, were exactly the kind Qiuyun disliked most.
Besides, she was the one paying for today’s gathering. Did she really have to give face to someone who was going out of his way to make her uncomfortable?
Then what had she been working so hard for over the past year?
Qiuyun ignored the glass of baijiu in front of her and turned to Wang Lan. “I won’t be here tonight, so make yourselves comfortable. I’m going to settle the bill at the front desk first. You and Wen Bin help me look after everyone.”
Wang Lan nodded. “Consider it done.”
Qiuyun pushed back her chair and stood. Then she said to Lin Chengjun, “Also, I only said I was treating everyone to a relaxing time at the hot springs. Baijiu isn’t included in what I’m paying for. You can pay for that bottle of Moutai yourself.”
!?
Lin Chengjun was stunned. “You’re so rich, and you’re making your guests pay for the drinks when you’re the one treating?”
Qiuyun found that even stranger. “My money doesn’t grow on trees. Why should I pay for your extra expenses?”
Lin Chengjun had already been drinking, and now his face flushed even redder. “That bottle of Moutai costs over two thousand yuan. Why didn’t you say so from the start?”
“Did you ask whether you could open it before you did? When you wanted to eat and drink, you didn’t spare a thought for my wallet. Now you’re trying to guilt-trip me?”
Lin Chengjun was left speechless. The hand gripping his glass trembled slightly. He was about to say something else when Qiuyun checked her watch.
“It’s been less than eight hours since we got here. I’m only covering your bill up to now.”
With that, she nodded to Wang Lan and Wen Bin. “Enjoy yourselves. As long as you leave before noon tomorrow, it won’t count as overtime.”
Wang Lan hurriedly nodded.
She had been fed up with Lin Chengjun for a long time.
Seeing someone finally put him in his place was incredibly satisfying.
After paying the bill, Qiuyun left and took a taxi home.
After observing everyone throughout the day, she gave her personal number only to Wang Lan, who had shown the most goodwill toward her.
And Wang Lan would serve as the threshold between Qiuyun and the rest of her former classmates, as well as the most efficient way to create distance after their brief reunion.
Mid-May.
The Dawn Project entered its final stretch.
Qiu Ze’s ranking also rose from fourth place to second.
A fondness for hardworking children is practically ingrained in Chinese parents. Though some people criticized Qiu Ze for deliberately crafting a persona and courting attention, his improvement time and again proved that his efforts had not been in vain.
The final showdown would be broadcast live.
Liang Siqi had sent over tickets, but Jiang Chuling had extra classes and could not go. Since Miss Qiu was not going, Yu Heng would not be going either.
Qiuyun was still debating whether she should attend when Pei Cizhou called. “Miss Qiu, are you free this Saturday?”
“Ahem.” Qiuyun made up her mind at once. “It’s my younger brother’s finale on Saturday. I should go and see it.”
“Hm? Didn’t we agree before that you should keep some distance from your brother’s life as a celebrity?”
“I’ll stay backstage. I’m not going out front.”
Wearing Bluetooth earbuds, Pei Cizhou watched the game on his computer load to one hundred percent. “In that case, why not come watch my competitive debut first? It’s in the afternoon, so it won’t take up much of your time.”
