Author: Jiang Zi Bei
Volume: 5
Age Rating: Teen
Exclusive Extra: √
Translator: Diriclaw, Peach
Editor: Wilbur Do

Synopsis

At just seventeen, blue-haired streamer Jian Rong, alias Soft, had already built a name for himself with his amazing mechanics and even sharper tongue. He’s roasted nearly every pro in the scene… except for one, and if someone so much as says one bad word about them in his stream, he made sure to drop down the ban hammer without hesitation.
That person was Road, the legendary jungler and calm-faced ace of China’s top LoL team, as well as Jian Rong’s longtime secret idol.
One day, a random email flipped Jian Rong’s world upside down, and he suddenly found himself standing on the center stage, shoulder to shoulder with Road.
And while he remained that trash-talking gaming prodigy who wowed esports fans everywhere, another side of him came out just in front of his idol. That swagger melted away, replaced with flushed cheeks. He said, “I won’t run my mouth again. I promise…”

Product Info

Book Photos

Preview

Volume One

At 5 p.m. on November 2, a fine drizzle was falling over Shanghai, but it didn’t make a dent in the enthusiasm outside the Shanghai Oriental Sports Center. There, fans were buzzing with excitement, holding banners and LED signs featuring their favorite esports team logos as they lined up in neat rows.
Today, the semifinal match of the League of Legends Season 10 World Championship saw South Korea’s HT from the LCK region face off against China’s TTC from the LPL, with both teams fighting for a coveted spot in next week’s Worlds Final.
Given TTC’s home-field advantage, their signature crown logo swept across the sea of merch.
A gleaming black bus bearing a white crown logo pulled up on the right side of the stadium. Upon its arrival, the security guards immediately sprang into action, forming a barrier between the bus and the oncoming rush of media and fans.
As the door slowly opened, the TTC members stepped off one by one, smiling and nodding amid the fans’ cheers. When the last member got off, the screams grew much louder, with fans frantically waving their signs. In such a large crowd, incidents were bound to happen—a TTC sign fell to the ground, followed closely by a girl’s shriek and the yell of a security guard.
“Sorry!” the girl anxiously said. “Someone just pushed me, I’m really sorry. Could you help me pick up the sign, please?”
“I’ll help you later. Now step back first—” before the guard could finish, someone had already bent down to pick up the sign and handed it back to her.
The man wore a black-and-white uniform. His hair was messily tousled, and a faint crease trailed from the corner of his long, narrow eye, likely left from sleeping against something. Below a straight, defined nose, his thin lips were pressed lightly together.
The girl stared at him for a few moments before looking down at the sign. His fingers were long and slender, with a small mole between his thumb and index finger.
She took the sign in a daze. “Thank you…”
The man gave a tiny nod, then turned and walked into the stadium.
Only after his figure completely disappeared from view did the girl finally snap back to reality. She spun around and grabbed her friend’s sleeve, screaming in excitement with her sign clutched in her hand. “That was Road! God Lu! He nodded at me! And even touched my sign! Ahhh!”
Backstage in the lounge, everyone in TTC looked far more relaxed.
Their support, Xiao-Bai, slumped back in a chair and pulled out a mirror to examine the hairstyle he had spent hours styling. “That girl’s voice was something. If she cheered for our men’s national soccer team, maybe they’d finally win something.”
The team’s head coach, also their manager, gave Xiao-Bai a light whack with his notebook. “Enough nonsense.” He then glanced over at Lu Boyuan, better known as Road, who had just taken a seat. He sat with a casual slant, with his left hand scrolling on his phone and his right on the armrest, slowly stretching his fingers.
Half an hour before the match, the coach gathered everyone for a final strategy rundown. Near the end, he turned to the mid laner and singled him out. “Kan, you remember everything I said, right?”
Kan took half a beat to react. “Huh? Oh, of course. I won’t make the same mistakes again.”
Lu Boyuan glanced at Kan briefly. Once the coach finished, he rose to his feet and said, “Bathroom.”
He stood in front of the sink, letting the cold water run over his hands, the icy sting creeping into his fingers just as a voice spoke behind him.
“You okay?”
Lu Boyuan looked up and met the coach’s gaze in the mirror. A few seconds later, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands. Calmly, he replied, “As long as I’m on stage, I’ll win.”

In the Starfield TV’s League of Legends category, the official stream was currently topping the LoL section with a popularity score of 800 million. Right below sat the streams of retired pro players, featuring titles like “S10 Semifinals,” “Hype Commentary,” or “TTC For The Win.”
Yet at the very bottom of the first page, one stream with 130 million in popularity stood out like a breath of fresh air:
Slacking off today—Soft
Jian Rong came back with food. His takeout delivery was delayed for nearly half an hour, so he was practically starving. As he was fiddling with the packaging, the host was still rambling on in the official broadcast.
[No way, you’re making us watch you eat?]
[Passive Streaming. Reported]
[What’s on the menu?]
“Fried Sauce Noodle,” he mumbled, still groggy from sleep. “How am I supposed to do commentary for you guys if I’m hungry?”
[LMAO eat up, don’t want you running out of energy mid-roast]
[Been away from LoL for years—who is this streamer? Why is he so popular? Is he an ex-pro? And why is he so good-looking?]
[This is the infamous LoL troll]
[Professional yapper]
[Professional noob]
“Mods, ban the guy who called me a noob… Never mind, I’ll do it myself.” He put down his chopsticks and instantly served that viewer a ban. Then resumed chatting with the viewers for a while longer until the two teams appeared on stage to prepare for the match.
He sat cross-legged in his gaming chair, holding his takeout box with one hand. His chewing slowed as his gaze drifted to the second seat from the left, where Road was in the middle of adjusting his gear. His bangs were a bit damp from washing his face earlier.
The broadcast began showing close-ups of each player. When it came to Road’s turn, the camera lingered noticeably longer, and the casters immediately switched topics.
Caster A chimed in, “And now, we have TTC’s, and even the LPL’s Ace jungler, Road! God Lu is looking as handsome as ever today.”
Caster B nodded in response, “Exactly, and chill as ever.”
Caster C chuckled. “He really is TTC’s anchor. Just seeing him in his seat makes me feel so much more at ease.” When the camera shifted, he added, “But the mid laner Kan seems quite tense today.”
“He does,” Caster B remarked. “Which is weird, considering this is his fourth Worlds. Hopefully, he can pull himself together and get ready before the game starts.”
Jian Rong glanced at the viewers’ questions and swallowed his noodles before answering, “Who’s gonna win? No clue. Depends on their status… Am I doing a cash giveaway if TTC wins? What am I, their brand ambassador? Why would I do that just because they won?… Is Kan better, or am I better? Me.”
His longtime viewers, who had long grown accustomed to his style, instantly flooded the stream with hype emojis. Soft joined the livestream platform over two years ago and blew up within a few months. There were plenty of reasons, but they all came down to two main things: godlike skills that made for top-tier livestream quality, and his cocky, unfiltered attitude.
Still, not every viewer appreciated it.
[All you can do is talk jab here]
[Think you’re so cool just cuz you solo killed Kan a couple times? Kan’s a late-game scaling teamfighter, unlike you, some idiot who just spams clown champs like Preschool Zed and Daycare Yasuo]
“No idea what a scaling teamfighter is. All I know is if you stomp your lane and send everyone packing, you win. Who made that montage of me solo killing Kan in ranked? Send it to that fanboy.”
[Is this streamer really that full of himself? A Kan hater?]
[Nah, don’t get it twisted. He roasts everyone, not just your Kan. But honestly, Kan has played pretty trash this season]
[I actually can’t think of a single pro that Soft hasn’t roasted]
[He’s never flamed Road!]
“Enough. The match is starting.” He interrupted the discussion in chat and adjusted his stream overlay. “Is my facecam blocking the game? I’ll turn it off for a bit.”
[The hell you will! Mama’s here just for your face! You turn it off, I’m switching to the official stream!]
[Stop it! Your blue hair is the only thing keeping me awake]
When Jian Rong first started streaming, he was once placed in the Visual category by the platform thanks to his absurdly good-looking face. His skin was fair, his eyelashes thick and long, with eyes more vibrant than a girl’s, and a tiny mole near the tip of his nose. If someone muted the stream, they’d think he was just a sweet seventeen-year-old.
However, what really landed him in the Visual category was his flashy aqua hair. The bright color made his features more striking, and he was just one headset mic away from debuting as an idol.
Still, he didn’t stay in that category for long. After receiving dozens of viewer complaints for flaming people mid-stream, the platform quietly put him back in the League of Legends category. After all, the young viewers in the Visual category were never prepared for someone biting like him.
Jian Rong wasn’t actually seeking the viewers’ opinion. Truth be told, he couldn’t even enjoy his noodles with the camera on, so he ignored all the protests, swiftly turned it off, put the official broadcast in full-screen, and focused on the match.
The semifinal was a best-of-five series: the first team to get three wins would advance. It tested not only the players’ skills, but also their mental fortitude and endurance. Yet none of the players on stage were new to the pro scene, and each appeared composed and ready.
In game one, TTC camped top lane and successfully counter-ganked their jungler twice, easily taking the win in just thirty-five minutes.
In game two, TTC gained a major early lead in bot lane and took down the enemy bot inhibitor first. However, after Kan got picked off twice in a row, they lost the game after forty-five minutes.
The score now came to 1–1.
The chat blew up with anger. Everyone was tearing Kan to shreds; some even asked why Jian Rong hadn’t joined in.
“Got tired of roasting him,” he said, glancing at the post-game stats. “8,300 damage… in a 45-minute game. A Rift Scuttler would’ve done better than that.”
[Only know pretending to be a winner here—If you think you’re so amazing, then go do it yourself. If you can’t, then shut up!!]
Jian Rong didn’t flinch; such lines appeared so often that it didn’t register anymore. He simply leaned back in his chair and focused on game three.
If Kan’s earlier performance could still be justified as mediocre, then this one—burning his Flash for nothing and handing over First Blood in the first five minutes—was pure, ridiculous trash.
Luckily, Road stepped up like always. Together with the top laner, he leveraged Camille’s pick advantage to chain several key picks during the mid-late game, securing a hard-fought win.
Game four dragged on even longer. For once, Kan behaved properly in the early game, and nothing went wrong in the laning phase, but in the late-game teamfights, he left his teammates hanging twice and flew away at half health. Though some less-skilled players might consider his escape reasonable, Jian Rong knew pretty well that TTC could have traded for two, or maybe three kills, if Kan had just committed and dealt proper damage. A Platinum player wouldn’t have made that call, let alone a pro.
Fifty-two minutes in, and TTC lost game four, tying the score at 2-2. It was a match point for both teams.
The moment the game ended, Road stood up and walked backstage without sparing one glance at Kan, who was sitting beside him.
The chat erupted again.
[Why did the streamer go quiet?]
[Bro, I’ve mentally uppercutted Kan on Road’s behalf]
[Unbelievable. Soft hasn’t flamed Kan in two whole games!!]
Just then, the camera shifted to Kan. He was a tall and slightly pudgy man with an honest, easygoing face, but now his head hung low, clouded with guilt.
Jian Rong blurted, “Guess what he’s thinking?”
[Probably feels sad for getting old. He’s 24 now. How could his reflexes and brain compete with those kids?]
[Let’s be real, even when he was younger, he wasn’t that good. He’s always been the weakest link]
[Watch your mouth, hater. Kan has won TTC plenty of matches]
The chat fought noisily, until Jian Rong shut it down with one sentence: “I bet he’s thinking… ‘I threw so well these last two games, the bookies better cut me a bigger check later.’”
He didn’t spell it out, but his implication was crystal clear—Kan was throwing the games in collusion with a gambling ring.
Given the scale of the LoL pro scene today, it was almost inevitable that the matches would become targets for betting. Many teams had faced suspicions of match-fixing, though those rumors remained in the private sphere, barely coming into the spotlight.
The instant Jian Rong’s words left his mouth, his stream chat exploded with countless attacks.
[Trash talk is one thing. Slandering someone’s reputation? That’s too much]
[F*cking reported. You’re so disgusting!]
[Saying this kind of thing without any proof? Not cool, man…]

…

^{Translation: Diriclaw
Copy Editor: Wilbur Do
Proofreader: CJ, Laura Churchman}

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