SITS Ch2

Chapter 2: Little Sweet Soft Candy

Zhao Rui laughed so hard that his whole body trembled. Shen Man raised a hand and slapped him lightly, finally stopping his laughter.

Meanwhile, the game had started. Xu Zhouye controlled the Insect Queen, darting swiftly into the dense jungle. Shen Man observed his gameplay this time, noting how adept Xu Zhouye was with his hero. He asked, “How long have you been practicing?”

“Over half a month,” Xu Zhouye answered honestly.

For someone to reach this level of proficiency in just over half a month—assuming he wasn’t lying—was undeniably impressive.

“What do you think of her?” Shen Man asked.

“Pretty good; feels like she fits this patch really well,” Xu Zhouye replied. “Since the last update, her damage has gone up, and she’s faster on the map. If you can land her control abilities, you can secure kills.”

True enough—land the control, and the kill follows.

In this game, crowd control skills are categorized into targeted and non-targeted. Targeted skills guarantee a hit as long as the skill is activated, while non-targeted ones require precision, as the projectile must physically connect with the enemy hero.

This wasn’t an easy feat, and for many heroes, their skill cap hinged on the accuracy of their abilities.

The Insect Queen belonged to the latter group, with non-targeted skills and extremely slow projectile speeds, making them easy to dodge.

Shen Man asked, “Can you land them?”

Xu Zhouye answered, “I can.” As he spoke, his hero had just reached the top lane. With a casual stride, he approached the enemy top laner and unleashed a Q skill—a venomous projectile with a control effect—hitting the target squarely.

First Blood—

The crisp sound of a kill notification rang out.

Shen Man withdrew his gaze. Looking at the screen, he said softly, “Nice.”

Xu Zhouye smiled again, as if Shen Man’s praise was something to savor deeply.

Zhao Rui, however, found it a bit surprising. Having partnered with Shen Man for four years, he knew his temperament very well. He couldn’t help but feel that Shen Man was saying slightly more to Xu Zhouye than usual. Normally, Shen Man wouldn’t even bother giving expressions to players who looked like they were on the verge of being kicked from the team. This thought made Zhao Rui glance at Shen Man out of curiosity.

Shen Man was a unique presence in the professional league.

Since joining Team ACE, he had been surrounded by endless controversy. People often saw a person’s face before seeing their skills.

And Shen Man’s face? It was extraordinary. He had a stunning appearance that would outshine even celebrities, paired with a height of 182 cm. Among professional players, he stood out like a beautiful vase.

When ACE announced their roster, everyone questioned where the team manager had found such an obscure player. Many speculated the manager had simply been bewitched by his looks.

Faced with such rumors, Shen Man didn’t bother to respond. He didn’t even have a Weibo account, keeping his presence so low-key that he seemed invisible.

But his skill was anything but invisible.

Zhao Rui had supported many players over the years, but he could swear with confidence: Shen Man was the most talented marksman he had ever seen—bar none.

This fact was indisputable by the time Shen Man claimed his first World Championship title.

With someone like this, it was only natural to have a bit of a temper.

“Zhao Rui.” Right on cue, Shen Man frowned and spoke. “Where’s your head at? Can you play with the reflexes someone your age should have?”

Zhao Rui: “…”

Shen Man: “Later, if I call you out, don’t get all sulky.”

Xu Zhouye chuckled, managing to pick up another kill as he laughed.

For some reason, Zhao Rui felt like he was being left out.

The three of them played six matches, winning every single one. It had to be said—Xu Zhouye’s jungle skills were truly remarkable. If not for the trending Weibo topic still hanging over him that morning, Zhao Rui wouldn’t have believed this was the same person.

“Why exactly did you perform like that yesterday?” Zhao Rui couldn’t hold back and asked Xu Zhouye.

Xu Zhouye replied, “I was nervous.”

Zhao Rui: “Hmm? That’s the only reason?”

“Yeah.” Xu Zhouye nodded.

If you had to make sense of it, it was plausible, but Zhao Rui felt like there was something else behind it. Just as he was about to ask more, Shen Man casually remarked, “Don’t ask. In esports, only results matter.”

Zhao Rui: “…True.”

In esports, poor performance is the original sin. Once you lose, no matter the reason, it becomes irrelevant. Nobody cares.

Shen Man’s words sounded a bit harsh. To someone more sensitive, they might even seem resentful. However, Xu Zhouye’s expression seemed oddly pleased by the comment. He smiled, gazing at Shen Man with a look of satisfaction and happiness that Zhao Rui couldn’t understand. Xu Zhouye said, “The captain’s absolutely right.”

Zhao Rui: “…Are you a masochist?”

—

Lunch Hour.

The base’s cooking auntie was pretty skilled. Shen Man was eating when their coach strolled over with a grin.

“God Man,” the coach started, and Shen Man immediately knew nothing good would follow.

“Speak human,” Shen Man said, holding his chopsticks without looking up.

“What do you think? Should we let Xu Zhouye play in Saturday’s match?” the coach asked. “Let’s discuss it.”

Typically, such decisions were up to the coaching team, but Shen Man held a special status in ACE. For certain matters, his input was sought.

Shen Man rarely concerned himself with lineup changes. He liked playing matches but disliked dealing with people.

The coach, understanding this, thought Shen Man would say something like, “Whatever.” Unexpectedly, Shen Man spoke decisively, “Let him play.”

“Huh?” The coach was stunned.

His reaction left the coach momentarily dumbfounded. “Let him play?”

“Didn’t you come specifically to ask me?” Shen Man asked, confused. “Or were you just asking out of courtesy?”

Coach: “No, no, no! I thought you wouldn’t care. But this time, we’re playing TKR, and if he…”

A loss to TKR was acceptable, but losing badly was not.

Shen Man set down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth slowly, and repeated, “Let him play.”

Coach: “Alright.”

And that settled it.

—

With a few days left before the match, the atmosphere in the base felt a bit off.

Shen Man, however, didn’t notice. He had a contract with a seafood streaming platform and hadn’t fulfilled his streaming hours for the month yet. Today, he planned to stream while playing ranked matches.

At this time, he didn’t even need to look to know what the viewers in the chat would say.

Shen Man’s in-game ID was “SLOW,” and fans liked to abbreviate it to “SW.”

[Finally streaming again! I’ve been waiting forever for you!]

[Wow, SW’s in a good mood, even turned on the camera.]

[Baby, you’re so good-looking, wuwuwu.]

On camera, Shen Man wore headphones, his eyes slightly downcast. Thick, long lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t slept well the night before, as his complexion looked pale. This pallor, however, accentuated his naturally aloof aura, making him seem both distant and cold.

His face was small, fair, and clean, with a tiny mole just below his right eye. His high nose bridge and thin lips, slightly pursed at the moment, gave off an air of impatience.

Without any special lighting or filters, his appearance on camera was comparable to a TV star.

Unfortunately, such a stunning face often lacked expression, making him seem unapproachable.

Ten minutes into the stream, the chat exploded with comments, growing increasingly critical.

[SW, you’re playing TKR this Friday. Can you field a jungler who can actually clear camps?]

[After a week of training, FEST finally brushed past Storm’s Banshee.]

[Starting with a 0-3, even I could do better.]

Such comments were endless, but Shen Man had long grown accustomed to them. In esports, skill was paramount, but mental toughness was a close second. Successful players always had excellent mental resilience.

Shen Man glanced at the chat without responding and launched Heart of the Wasteland.

His nonchalant attitude would have been criticized if it were another player, but since he’d been like this from the start, everyone was used to it.

Someone still chimed in sarcastically:

[Wow, did SW personally pick this player? Why does he look so upset?]

[Give it a rest. He’s never been happy during a stream.]

[True. I’m not happy at work either.]

Shen Man was selecting his hero when his phone buzzed with a WeChat notification. Someone had tagged him in a group chat.

It was Xu Zhouye, whose avatar was a yellow starfish that seemed familiar. He messaged Shen Man:

[Captain, want to duo? I want to practice a new hero.]

Shen Man replied: [I’m streaming.]

The implication being, too many viewers meant too much criticism.

With his high popularity, streams attracted a large audience. If he made a mistake while duoing with a teammate, both of them could face backlash. Shen Man didn’t mind himself but preferred not to drag others into it.

That’s why he usually played solo during streams, rarely even teaming up with Zhao Rui.

[No problem, I’ll use a smurf account.]

[Send me the ID.]

Since Xu Zhouye didn’t care, Shen Man cared even less.

Xu Zhouye happily sent his ID, and Shen Man stared at it for a while before slowly typing:

[Is this…your account?]

[Yep, yep.]

Shen Man: “…”

[Alright.]

As long as Xu Zhouye was happy.

Three minutes later, Shen Man invited [Little Sweet Soft Candy] into his team.

The chat exploded instantly.

[Who’s this?????]

[SW, we treated you like a brother, and you’re sneaking off to be sweet?]

[It’s over. Checked the stats, and it’s a soft girl. I can’t handle this!!]

[Could you guys calm down? With someone as good-looking as Shen Man, it’d be strange if he wasn’t dating someone!]  

[No way! With a personality like his, someone actually wants him?]  

Shen Man happened to notice the last comment and sneered, “Cut the nonsense. Your father has an excellent temper.”  

The chat exploded with question marks: [??????]

Still unsatisfied, Shen Man typed on his keyboard and asked Little Sweet Soft Candy: [Do I have a bad temper?]  

Little Sweet Soft Candy replied: [(●˙˙●) I won’t allow anyone to say that about my gege. Gege is the kindest and most patient person I’ve ever met.]  

Shen Man declared, “See that?”  

The irritated chat went wild: [Somebody drag these two out for flaunting their love—]

This world is funny that way. While the entire league tacitly agreed that Shen Man had a bad temper, he himself wasn’t aware of it.  

What bad temper? He just didn’t like socializing.  

When they entered champion selection, Shen Man realized that Xu Zhouye had queued as a support. He had thought Xu Zhouye would play jungle.  

[SW Bro, what hero do you want?]

Little Sweet Soft Candy was already fully in character with their username.  

[Whatever you like.]Shen Man replied.  

[Then if I don’t perform well, you’re not allowed to scold me, okay?]Little Sweet Soft Candy responded.  

[I never scold anyone.]

[Gege is so nice, so gentle.]  

The chat was so flooded with comments that the screen was practically obscured: [Little sister, don’t let his words fool you. This guy loves giving the silent treatment. Look at how we’ve been waiting for him; he ignores us for months at a time! If you mess up, he definitely won’t duo with you again next time!]

Xu Zhouye couldn’t see the chat, of course. Happily, he chose a hero called Phantom.  

Zhao Rui, sitting next to Xu Zhouye, was shocked when he saw the pick and said, “You’re really duoing with him? And you picked Phantom?”  

“Yeah,” Xu Zhouye replied.  

“Then you’re doomed,” Zhao Rui said. “If you mess up, the chat will blow up on you.”  

Xu Zhouye grinned and said, “Doesn’t matter. If I can stick to the captain and take the flames for him, it’s a blessing.”  

Zhao Rui: “…” In less than a month, you’ve already mastered the art of being the captain’s lapdog.  

The game began, and the two headed to the bottom lane.  

The chat was full of viewers expecting a trainwreck, convinced that Shen Man’s temper would eventually flare. But as the game progressed, something felt off. The Phantom played as if raised by Shen Man himself, their teamwork seamless. By level four, they had secured a double kill, and by level six, they tower-dived for another.  

[It’s fine; it’s fine. It’s just the first game. Beginner’s luck. Don’t panic, everyone.]  

[Let them have a taste of victory first. The suffering will come later.]  

[I don’t believe he won’t crack eventually.]  

After winning the first match, Shen Man noticed their synergy and suggested a hero swap for Xu Zhouye: [Try Reedgrass.]  

[Okay, Gege (*^▽^*)] SweetSoftCandy replied.  

Qin Sang and Reedgrass were a pair of romantic heroes in the game, both strong in the current meta. Reedgrass excelled at map mobility and protecting the team’s main carry, making it a must-ban or must-pick in professional matches.  

After just one game, Shen Man gave high praise to Xu Zhouye’s Reedgrass: [Your Reedgrass is better than Zoop’s.]  

Zoop was Zhao Rui’s game ID.  

When Shen Man sent the message, the chat exploded again. If Zhao Rui had been streaming, viewers would have surely flocked to his channel to lament about how Shen Man had “abandoned the old for the new.”  

[Only the new smile, while the old weep.]  

[Zoop, your captain doesn’t want you anymore.]  

Shen Man didn’t even need to look at the chat to know what they were saying. Expressionless, he said, “What’s wrong? Any of you want Zhao Rui’s Reedgrass to support you?”  

Everyone swiftly refused: [Forget it. Keep the good stuff for yourself.]  

Shen Man: “Tch.”  

You couldn’t blame Shen Man for his attitude. Zhao Rui’s Reedgrass had been atrocious this season—two games, both disasters. He couldn’t land crowd control, couldn’t protect teammates, and was as fragile as paper. If deaths required watching ads for revival, he’d be every sponsor’s favorite.  

But Reedgrass wasn’t Zhao Rui’s main hero, and he only picked it to deny it from the enemy. Shen Man didn’t fault him for it, just told him to practice more in private.  

In the third game, Xu Zhouye picked a hero called Lunar Maiden.  

She was a typical mage who could also play support, with a high skill ceiling and low floor. Whether she succeeded or not depended entirely on her ability to land abilities, earning her the nickname “slot machine.”  

If she hit, she could one-shot enemies in a combo. If she missed, she was no better than a minion.  

When the chat saw SweetSoftCandy pick her, they joked: [What’s this? SW, is little sis stepping in because you’re winning too slowly?]  

Xu Zhouye didn’t lock in immediately, asking: [Gege can we play this? 0.0]  

Shen Man: [Whatever.]  

[Gege is so nice. If I miss my abilities, you’re not allowed to scold me!] Xu Zhouye typed.  

Shen Man replied with a single punctuation mark: [.]  

Shen Man didn’t care, but the mage queued with them wasn’t as forgiving: [Can you not pick something useless like that?]  

Neither Shen Man nor Xu Zhouye replied.  

Seeing no response, the mage deliberately picked Phantom and changed their default skills to teleport and resurrection—clearly intending to throw the game.  

That was the current toxic atmosphere of the game, where entitled players would silently sabotage games at the slightest offense.  

Shen Man’s expression didn’t change as he calmly selected talents.  

On the other hand, Xu Zhouye smiled as he typed: [At this rank, it makes no difference whether you’re here or not.]  

The mage immediately snapped, unleashing a barrage of insults. Mistaking Xu Zhouye for a girl based on his username, they resorted to vulgar language. Xu Zhouye simply muted voice chat and kept typing, while the chat cheered for justice, shouting for a “fire team” to teach the mage a lesson in internet harassment.

There was a teammate deliberately sabotaging the game, seemingly dooming everyone to an unpleasant experience.

Some viewers even speculated whether Little Sweet Sugar Candy would break under pressure, but the unfolding events defied all expectations.

Instead of joining Shen Man in the bottom lane, Little Sweet Sugar Candy skipped buying a shared-gold blade and went directly to the mid-lane at level one.  

The insulting mage was still standing at the fountain typing furiously when a message popped up from Little Sweet Sugar Candy:  

[Boohoo, gege, the enemy duelist is so fierce!]

One second later, the system announced the first blood—Little Sweet Sugar Candy had burned the enemy mage to death with Ignite (a skill that gradually burns opponents to death).

Shen Man: “…” Youthful reflexes are incredible. Even with Ignite ticking, this kid had time to type so much. Meanwhile, Shen Man was also burning, being pressured two-on-one by opponents who were ready to dive him. All he could do was hide under the tower and farm cautiously.

Little Sweet Sugar Candy: [Huff, huff, let me blow out the flames on gege’s body.]

Shen Man: “…” Xu Zhouye, where on earth did you learn these lines?

The trolling mage couldn’t sit still anymore. Watching Little Sweet Sugar Candy rack up two more kills against the enemy team, he started intentionally feeding the opponents.

But by that point, it was already too late. With their stack of kills and snowballing power, Little Sweet Sugar Candy had become a monster. They could immobilize any enemy and follow up with a burst that instantly deleted them.

After each kill, they didn’t forget to taunt:  

[See? I told you, this game is the same with or without you.]

The mage, utterly tilted, stood in place spewing profanity. 

While Shen Man struggled to hold his lane, he kept an eye on Xu Zhouye’s plays. He had to admit, Xu Zhouye’s mechanics were impressive. His skill shots, colloquially known as “lottery rolls,” connected nine times out of ten. His random throws seemed to predict the enemy’s movements, including their Flash locations, with uncanny accuracy. 

His positioning and ability use screamed a suffocating gap in skill, leaving the enemy team helpless.  

How could someone like this have died to jungle monsters before?

If Xu Zhouye was really the type to crumble under the pressure of a live stage, that would be a huge pity. Even Shen Man, not usually one for sentiment, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of regret on his behalf.

In the end, they finished the game in 23 minutes. Just as the crystal was about to explode, Xu Zhouye was thinking about how Shen Man wasn’t as bad-tempered as the rumors claimed—he hadn’t even engaged with the troll mage.

Then, right before the crystal shattered, Shen Man typed his first and only words of the match:  

[Say goodbye to your account.]

Xu Zhouye: “…” Oh, he had been waiting for this moment.

—

Players who deliberately grief like that mage were doomed if they crossed paths with Shen Man. The account was as good as banned. How long the ban would last depended on the game moderators, but three months was the bare minimum.

The two continued streaming for the evening, losing only one game—a win rate much higher than Shen Man’s usual duo queue with Zhao Rui.

The chat’s tone shifted from anticipating Shen Man’s bad temper to:  

[SW, where did you even trick this ‘little sister’ from? Can you introduce us too?]

[Make her stream too! You can’t hog all the money!]

[I want to send rockets (donations) to the little sister!]

Shen Man ignored them. As soon as his streaming hours ended, he immediately ended the broadcast, leaving the audience wailing like abandoned children, begging for the next stream schedule. 

Shen Man didn’t bother responding.

Xu Zhouye watched as Shen Man ended the stream and shut off his camera. Then, he leaned over and called softly, “Captain.”

“You played well,” Shen Man said while packing up his headset, giving a rare compliment about Xu Zhouye’s overall performance that evening.

Xu Zhouye grinned. “It’s because you’re amazing, Captain.”

“Get ready,” Shen Man said. “The coach submitted your name. You’ll be playing on Friday.”

Hearing this, Shen Man glanced at Xu Zhouye, expecting some excitement at least. Yet, Xu Zhouye maintained his usual smile, his response simple and straightforward: “Okay.”

Xu Zhouye’s temperament seemed remarkably steady, but somehow, Shen Man couldn’t shake the feeling…

“Captain?” Xu Zhouye’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Shen Man returned to his senses, only to find Xu Zhouye’s face inches from his own. They were so close their noses nearly touched.

The proximity startled Shen Man, and he reflexively took a step back. Xu Zhouye didn’t press forward, instead blinking innocently as if Shen Man had overreacted. Tilting his head like a curious puppy, he asked, “Captain? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shen Man replied.

Xu Zhouye said, “Want to grab some barbecue tonight? I found a really good spot…”

“No,” Shen Man rejected outright.

“Oh.” Xu Zhouye lowered his head, looking a bit dejected.

The combination of his tone and expression was so pitiful that it inexplicably made Shen Man feel like he’d been too harsh. After a brief cough, he rarely explained himself: “I have something to do tonight. Another time.”

“Hehe, okay!” Xu Zhouye’s spirits lifted instantly, as if mollified in a matter of seconds, and he beamed with happiness.

Shen Man turned and left, leaving the rest of the team behind.

Zhao Rui sidled up to Xu Zhouye and said in a strange tone, “How come it feels like you’re so close to Shen-ge? I’m starting to think you’re trying to take my place.”

Xu Zhouye blinked. “The captain and I hit it off at first sight.”

Zhao Rui: “…”

Xu Zhouye added, “We respect each other like honored guests.”

Zhao Rui: “???” Is that even the right phrase for teammates?

Xu Zhouye just chuckled and walked away, leaving Zhao Rui standing there with a twisted expression.