Shen Yuan · Chat

"Boss, your boost is done. Feel free to log in and take a look ♡" The notification popped up. Bundled up under the warm blanket, even sticking out a single hand felt like a chore. Winter in City S was like cotton candy wrapped around a blade—seemingly mild and placid on the surface, gentler than anywhere else, yet the moment you poked your head out, it would slash at you without warning, catching you completely off guard. Rubbing your bleary, crusty eyes, your head felt like it had been filled with leaden water, too heavy to lift. Operating purely on muscle memory, you tapped open Identity V. A gleaming golden character badge hung beside a Tier 7 rank, finally matching your lavishly decorated profile. As a veteran who joined back in 2020, you had been playing for six years. But because real life kept you swamped, you rarely had time to grind ranked matches. Your skills swung wildly between godlike and abysmal, leaving you perennially stuck in Tier 3. Now, at long last, you could fulfill that middle-school dream of yours. You had never played a Tier 7 match before; your only exposure had been the occasional esports match or clip that popped up on your feed, which you'd always scroll past after a quick glance. Intense music flared up. You picked a character equipped with an SS-tier skin—for your very first Tier 7 match, the ritualistic flair had to be dialed up to the max, and your gleaming, fully decked-out loadout stood out brilliantly in the lobby. Shen Yuan sat wearing her headset, her long black hair nearly brushing the floor. On the computer screen displaying her live stream, that decked-out account took a hit and went down in under sixty seconds... Burning through every single item, without even forcing the Hunter to use Blink. Watching such an eye-bleedingly atrocious clown show made Shen Yuan's eyelid twitch uncontrollably. If she hadn't been playing on her main account today, she would have genuinely questioned whether she was actually in a Tier 7 lobby. *How the hell did someone playing like this even get boosted up here...?* Shen Yuan forced down her burning rage for the moment. As an esports pro, no matter how bad a match went, throwing was out of the question—especially with her stream running. Shen Yuan tried her best to salvage the situation. Her hands had begun to flush red from the rapid inputs, and a gnawing ache radiated out from the joints of her fingers, quickly taking over both hands. She hadn't turned on the heating in the room to keep the stifling warmth from making her drowsy. She had just taken her medication; if her head wasn't clear, her gameplay would turn into complete garbage. After barely scraping together a tie, you stood right at the exit gate and used an emote. In Shen Yuan's eyes, it was nothing short of blatant provocation. Exiting the post-match chat at lightning speed to open the post-game lobby, Shen Yuan battered her keyboard mercilessly. Her stream's viewers had long grown accustomed to her signature brand of top-tier mechanics paired with dubious sportsmanship. Shen Yuan didn't care in the slightest how many haters she might attract; as long as there was spite suffocating her chest, she could blow up the entire world. "Do you even know how to play? Did they forget to round you up when they slaughtered the pigs for New Year's?" "Playing like absolute trash—if you got boosted up here, hurry up and crawl back where you belong." The barrage of scathing messages made you tremble a little. You really shouldn't have queued for rank... Terrified that a report from her might get your account banned, you hit the voice message button hoping to sound sincere: "I'm sorry... My hands are off today. I'm really sorry." Shen Yuan's fury screeched to a dead halt the moment that voice message played. She hadn't recognized your in-game name—with how terrible you were, always needing her help before a Tier 5 match even lasted a minute, how could she have ever expected to match with you? Buried memories surfaced from the murky depths, moments Shen Yuan had sworn never to revisit. Back then, she had just started out as a streamer. She possessed stellar academic credentials and should have had a limitless future ahead of her, but she refused to submit to her family's arrangements any longer. She stole her ID and household register, and ran. No one understood her. Why throw away a bright future just to become a video game streamer and chase an esports career? How many women could even gain a foothold in that industry? The crushing pressure, the alienation, the endless barrage of harassment calls from her family, and the constant moving from one rental to another just to shake off their tracking... They had pierced her nerves like splintered glass, churning everything into chaos. Her nervous system had felt like a pit of rotting sludge in her skull, occasionally writhing and leaving her so nauseated she could only double over the bathroom sink. She hadn't dared to look in the mirror—even a fleeting glance felt as though her reflection would drag her into the abyss. You were someone she met at the convenience store downstairs. She had gone there every day to buy salads, unable to stomach meat; it always felt like she was consuming not just an animal, but a piece of herself. Her first conversation with you happened late at night. Fresh off a stream, her stomach completely empty, you had pushed a pack of sushi across the counter to her: "Always eating cold salads is bad for your stomach. Eat something nice; there's no meat in this." No moonlight shone into that convenience store, nor was there any daylight sun. Yet Shen Yuan had felt that your smile was the sun itself, and the gentle cadence of your voice was a private moon embracing only her. Back then, Shen Yuan thought you were working at the convenience store because your family was poor. Only later did she find out you were wealthy beyond measure—that job had merely been a summer experience. The moment those two months ended, your family wasted no time wiring you twenty thousand as pocket money for your hard work. That was the first time she had ever pursued anyone. It was clumsy, awkward, and timid, yet you had always embraced her flaws and indulged her intrusive habits. Things began to rot six months into the relationship. Shen Yuan earned a spot in a youth training camp—play well enough, and she could go pro. She became extraordinarily busy, and her schedule ran completely opposite to yours. The time you spent together dwindled to almost nothing. Panic seized Shen Yuan. She had never truly possessed anything in her life. As a child, her favorite toys were given away by her parents; during middle school, she raised a rabbit, only for it to be served on the dining table just because a relative mentioned never having tasted rabbit meat. Freedom, too, was nothing more than shackles her family used to bind her. You were the only thing she had ever had. Yet she didn't know how to keep you. She could only resort to the most despicable means—weaponizing your sympathy for her mental illness, paying the toll with her own body to forcibly drag the relationship along. And yet, you still left. Shen Yuan had no idea what to do. Was it her fault? Of course it was. She had been too gentle; she should have been far harsher on herself. If she had, you surely wouldn't have walked away. Her memories snapped back, pulling Shen Yuan back to reality. Three minutes had already passed. The sound of typing clattered across the keyboard again, far more urgent than before. "Then again... you actually played really well. Want to play the next one together?"