The livestream event of Idol Uncovered lasted a total of four days.
After the first day’s stream ended, and the players were escorted back to the training room by the coaching staff, Xiao Luo finally let out a long breath.
…Not bad. At least it hadn’t escalated to publicly announcing a wedding date. Her job was safe.
Sighing with relief, she discreetly wiped the cold sweat off her forehead, opened Weibo, and—sure enough—
Thanks to a certain jungler who was dying for the whole world to ship them, and a certain mid-laner who thought it was all brotherhood while actually being slowly boiled like a frog in warm water, their bold interactions in the stream sent their CP tag soaring. #CloudFollowstheWind became the No.1 trending topic with overwhelming momentum.
Comment: It’s 3 a.m. Who’s getting kept awake by sweetness again? …Oh, it’s me. Alright then ^^
Comment: This hour is quiet, I’ll go first: Feng-bao aaahhh let me kiss you Muuua!!
Comment: ? Some people need to calm down before Cloud bites you in the dark.
Comment: This pair is TOO good, sobbing, my tears are waterfalling out of the corners of my mouth… polite question: is there any group where I can go feral…? Can’t find anything in the supertopic QuQ
Comment: The tag is too hot right now, admins banned group invites. I’ll DM you.
Comment: Someone already made a pure-sugar edit on didi, it’s tooth-rotting sweet. I’m charging in first ^^> shared link.
Comment: Bless the kind soul above, thank you Bodhisattva, saved it!
Comment: ……All of you liars above GET OUT!! I clicked in!! They even dared use Wind Moves as BGM! Are my tears worth nothing?? Why did they put the line ‘To see you without a ripple is my peace’ over the jungler pitifully staring at the mid’s back?? They have so many eye contact moments!!
Comment: hehe ^^
Seeing this, Xiao Luo quietly pulled back her own impulsive hand. She was getting older; doomscrolling angsty edits with ‘yearning but never getting’ themes would explode her mental health. Better not court disaster…
But she also noticed that this bunch of CP shippers was more unhinged than the last.
Luckily, the leading big-fans were still sensible. While squealing “So sweet omg,” they also coordinated to create a ton of other unrelated topic tags, buying traffic and soft articles to bury their own CP tag.
Their stance was unified: Wind and Cloud must break out through their skill and results, never through “crooked ways” like this. Otherwise, if haters ever latch onto it, that’ll be trouble.
Besides, that day probably isn’t far off.
PNG’s performance since the start of summer split had given fans tremendous confidence.
They believed PNG could go much further—so they definitely couldn’t let their CP-shipping become a stumbling block in the boys’ professional careers.
Thus, very soon, several bizarre hot searches popped up.
#BewareTelecomFraud# [explode]
#DownloadTheNationalAntiFraudAppNow# [hot]
#TheTrapsBehindPrivateLoans#
Comment: ???
Comment: ……uh, what.
Comment: What even is this? How did this trend??
Comment: One minute ago none of the top spots were related to these at all…
Comment: Heh, another bought hashtag. I’m done. Whoever has money gets to trend, I guess.
Comment: Today’s trends are all dirty. China internet… say no more.
Comment: Are you deranged? Promoting anti-fraud and telecom safety triggers the holes in your brains?? (sweaty soybean emoji)
Isn’t it good for these law-education tags to be seen by more people? The bystanders didn’t get it, but they were impressed.
Maybe the “[Internet Police Collaboration Project]” note on those topics was too shiny, and the cynical haters didn’t dare go head-to-head.
Scrolling further down were national-policy topics, and they wouldn’t dare throw tantrums under social news, so they redirected their keyboards toward some mid-to-lower trending celebrities and influencers who really had bought traffic.
Like sharks smelling blood, the brainless haters swarmed instantly whenever they spotted the slightest sign of bought heat, attacking recklessly in the comments.
Comment: Don’t even need to click to know it’s a brain-dead marketing soft article. People like this have fans?? The state of things nowadays, sigh, this generation…
Comment: June 20 is World Refugee Day—using such a serious day to push trends? A bunch of clowns pouting for photos occupying public resources?
Comment: Entertainers running the show. Pathetic!!
Comment: uh… okay then.
Comment: ……Did someone poke a rabid-dog nest??
No one knew why they were so unlucky, but the drama My Jungle Belongs to You and its two leads, who just so happened to buy a hot search today—
…F**k. Who did they offend? Who cursed them today?!
Maybe the production team’s feng shui just sucked?!
——
To avoid disturbing the main team’s training, the remaining days of filming focused on the coaching staff, the second team, and PNG’s other game divisions. The stream’s heat noticeably dropped compared to day one.
With the hype fading and CP fans intentionally suppressing the tags, this livestream—earth-shattering in some sense—finally wrapped up.
As the intense and exhilarating 23rd approached, many people suddenly realized: …Holy crap, turns out I’m a competition fan!! I need to watch the match!! Where’s my team?? What’s my team’s situation right now?!?!
Finally coming to their senses, the fans remembered their main focus and shifted attention back to the match.
June 23, Longhu Esports Arena, one hour before the match.
The clash between a veteran powerhouse and a rising dark horse was highly anticipated. The HPL official stream had been opened early, with a few commentators and hosts warming up the crowd on stage.
The commentators for this match were still the good-brother duo, Qing Ci and Chao Mi.
“Welcome everyone to the HPL Summer Split official livestream! I’m your commentator, Qing Ci,” Qing Ci said through his headset, greeting the audience.
“I’m Chao Mi,” came the reply.
Qing Ci continued, “Today’s first match is PNG versus Tayloo! This is also one of the most anticipated highlight matches of late June!”
Chao Mi grinned adorably, “Exactly. That’s also why we started streaming so early—if too many fans of the two teams are lurking in the stream, it would be too lonely staring at a black screen!”
[66666]
[Here we go, TL, kill for us!!]
[Go PNG!!]
[Ridiculous, does everyone actually live in the livestream? Aren’t they eating?]
“An hour until the match starts… it is a bit early. What should we talk about…” Qing Ci paused in thought. “Alright, let’s skip the fluff. Chao Mi, between these two teams, who do you think will win?”
Chao Mi immediately frowned, looking troubled. “That really stumps me. With the starting roster changes, this is still TL and PNG’s first official match against each other! My intel has also been weak lately; I couldn’t get any info on these teams’ training matches.”
“Historically, TL won the HPL championship twice, in S1 Summer and S2 Spring. They also represented China as the seeded team four times at the World Championship—achievements PNG doesn’t have.”
Chao Mi continued, “Plus, PNG recently reorganized. Their current starting lineup is all rookies, so in terms of experience, they definitely can’t match TL’s veterans.”
Qing Ci chimed in, “So… you’re not very optimistic about PNG today?”
Chao Mi shook his head with a smile. “Not at all! On the contrary! Anyone who watches PNG regularly knows that none of my predictions about them are ever correct! Every time I say they’re at a disadvantage, it always backfires!”
“Moreover, PNG is excellent at comebacks. Until the last second of the match, until the base explodes, I won’t say they’re definitely losing!”
“Yes, I completely agree with that,” Qing Ci nodded. “In the first round of the Summer Split, who would have expected this rookie team to clip the wings of veteran powerhouse Furia and reach this point with an 11–0 record?!”
“But likewise, Tayloo, with a 10–1 record, is by far PNG’s toughest opponent yet! The players’ individual skill and match experience are top-tier—few in the entire HPL can rival them!”
[Blow blow blow, stop with the praise already, these two biased commentators are unbearable! TL’s level, and PNG dares to provoke? (sweaty soybean)]
[LOL, they just bragged about 11–0 like there’s no end. If these silly fans knew TL once had a 41-game win streak to the top, they’d probably bow down on the spot!!]
[Uh… can some fans stop dragging up ancient history to troll?]
[Today’s joke: “Ancient history.” What’s ancient about it? Even the worst of them have been at Worlds. What about you??]
[No one actually thinks beating weak teams means you can arm-wrestle HPL champions, right? (sweaty soybean)]
[ HPL champion = Worlds Top 16? Don’t want to rant, but blowing up S1 and S2 issues now? Navic also has two championships, never like you guys.]
[No one’s talking about N team here, don’t mislead. N team’s results have nothing to do with PNG; Top 16 is still better than staying home.]
[True, just reflecting on the gap in skill ^^]
[Dragging down other teams now? If PNG wins, will you kneel and apologize? The demo’s ready—look at He Yuan’s example.]
[ LOL, bragging like this makes me eat two extra bowls of rice. Already starting loans for victory at noon?]
Qing Ci and Chao Mi’s commentary was supposed to be neutral: praise both teams, present facts, and leave the players a face-saving route in case they lose.
But fans didn’t want neutral commentary—they just wanted to hype their own team! Especially in a match with such uneven paper stats, neutrality doesn’t hold a chance.
As expected, both teams’ fans fought fiercely in the livestream chat.
Once it involved the match, the warm, relaxed CP-shipping vibe vanished; polite language flourished, and everyone typed as if they were their mom wielding a keyboard to annihilate the opposing army.
TL, after all, was a veteran team with dazzling results—double championship trophies guarding them. Their fans’ battle power far outclassed PNG’s current supporters.
After a while, Chao Mi said, “I can’t wait any longer! This kind of clash between top teams really gets the blood pumping—look at my arms, goosebumps everywhere! I wonder if the players backstage feel the same way?”
——
Backstage.
If Chao Mi asked Cheng Su this question, he would have answered without hesitation: no.
After encountering Cheng Wensheng wandering around backstage with the team, what rose on Cheng Su’s skin wasn’t goosebumps—it was murderous intent.
Cheng Wensheng stood quietly in the middle of the hallway. Hearing footsteps, he turned his head, his gaze falling on the PNG members.
Sui Ning calmly observed Cheng Wensheng. Although he had heard the ID TL_Amor many times before, today was the first time he encountered him in real life.
Although they were brothers, Cheng Wensheng seemed very different from Cheng Su. Both inherited genes from the same parents, yet Cheng Su, barely 19, already had the potential to become a commanding esports prodigy. Reserved and taciturn, with sword-like eyebrows and piercing black eyes, he exuded an intimidating presence. His thin lips were usually pressed tightly together, and apart from scolding his teammates and his son, he spoke little.
Cheng Wensheng, on the other hand, was the opposite.
Three years older than Cheng Su and slightly taller, his frame was long and lean like a pine tree. His team jacket draped casually over his arm, yet even in the fitted TL uniform, he looked like he was wearing a high-fashion suit, exuding elegance along with his striking appearance.
Their facial features were similar, but the older brother’s handsome contours were softer. His lips curved lightly, and his alluring peach-blossom eyes reflected the PNG players nearby.
The moment their eyes met, Sui Ning froze.
Ji Yunyu subtly shifted, blocking half the line of sight without drawing attention.
He knew Cheng Wensheng wanted to speak with Sui Ning, but didn’t like them staring directly at each other.
Cheng Wensheng didn’t notice Ji Yunyu’s small maneuver and shot a glance at Cheng Su from the corner of his eye.
Seeing his younger brother avoid eye contact, Cheng Wensheng turned to Sui Ning and smiled warmly. “Wind—”
“Finally, we meet.”
His moist, captivating eyes curved in a charming smile. “This is still our first meeting.”
…So this is just a greeting? Sui Ning couldn’t gauge his intentions and nodded. “Yes… pleased to meet you.”
“I’m looking forward to competing with you.”
“Me too,” Cheng Wensheng said with a smile. “You’ve grown far faster than I imagined. I didn’t expect we’d face each other on the stage so soon.”
Sui Ning: “…”
That statement left him unsure how to respond.
But Cheng Wensheng wasn’t expecting a reply. He naturally skipped the topic and chatted casually for a moment, shaking Sui Ning’s hand while enduring Ji Yunyu’s icy gaze.
Old fox. Ji Yunyu clicked his tongue almost inaudibly.
Cheng Wensheng’s smile deepened.
And he wasn’t wrong. The faster Sui Ning grew, the more he regretted not making a move sooner.
Especially recently, after talking with Meng Xiyue, a hardcore Wind fan buzzing constantly around him, the elegant gentlemanly facade Cheng Wensheng usually wore was beginning to crumble. He wished he could grab Sui Ning and sneak him away from PNG that very night.
—Still, at this point, there was no need to dwell on “my biggest regret is not acting decisively in March.”
When facing Sui Ning, or any peers, Cheng Wensheng remained composed and dignified—never casually baiting someone.
Besides, whether Sui Ning was worth tying up in a bag… that would only be decided after today.
Thoughts racing, Cheng Wensheng kept a calm exterior and shifted his gaze toward Cheng Su. “Xiao Su,”
“Can I talk to you alone?”
Cheng Su, uninterested, sneered and prepared to leave with his teammates.
But when he looked back, he noticed the teammates instinctively stepping back, making space for the two brothers.
Lin Zhaoxu and Wei Ye watched eagerly, their eyes shining like bulbs, practically screaming: Drama incoming!
Cheng Su: “…?”
…Seriously? No rights for supports?
——
Backstage, it was hard to find truly private space. They settled in a relatively quiet corner.
Cheng Wensheng relaxed, leaning silently against the wall. Cheng Su, unsurprisingly, chose the farthest corner from him.
Nearby were small tea tables and rattan chairs, but neither approached them—perhaps even that distance felt too close for now.
Cheng Su positioned himself with his waist against the edge of a long table covered in a white cloth, which was otherwise empty. It looked as if a water dispenser had been planned here, but then removed. Leaning against the table gave him confidence when facing his older brother.
Neither spoke.
“What do you want to say?” After a pause, Cheng Su frowned impatiently. “I’m in a hurry; there’s a meeting before the match.”
Cheng Wensheng raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “In such a rush? Should I make an appointment next time if I want to chat with you?”
Cheng Su scoffed lightly. “You better.”
“Then this time, let’s make an exception. I’ll even give you overtime pay.”
“Boring. Speak plainly.”
“The words I want to say haven’t changed,” Cheng Wensheng said calmly. “Next season, transfer to TL.”
Cheng Su clenched his fists and turned to leave.
Cheng Wensheng’s voice turned cold. “Cheng Su, are you still going to throw a childish tantrum?”
Seeing him pause, Cheng Wensheng continued, “You refused the arrangement I made for you. You’re suited to play mid. TL has the resources to nurture you. Once I retire, you’ll be the starting mid for the first team. What exactly are you dissatisfied with? You’ve wasted almost a year—what do you intend to do?”
Cheng Wensheng considered this already very tactful.
It wasn’t that he underestimated PNG; he was stating a fact: since Cheng Su joined PNG in mid-last year, they hadn’t achieved anything comparable to Tayloo. That was hard skill. And in terms of resources, coaching, and other soft power, there was simply no comparison.
Moreover, he couldn’t understand at all why his younger brother had suddenly switched to playing support.
They had trained together at home before. Cheng Wensheng had observed Cheng Su and noticed that his younger brother truly had talent—he picked up mid-lane heroes that relied on farming or burst magic incredibly quickly.
Turning his back to his older brother, Cheng Su tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“None of your business.”
In front of others, he could still put on a proper facade, but with his brother, he could be blunt, meddle in life, and show his controlling streak to the fullest. Cheng Su was genuinely tired of showing any unnecessary expression to this overbearing older brother.
Cheng Wensheng smiled, his eyes icy. “None of my business? I brought you onto this path, so I am responsible for you to the end. And now you say it’s none of my business?”
Cheng Su took a deep breath, tightening his fists. “How many times do I have to say it? Playing professionally is the path I chose. I will walk it myself. I don’t need anyone to ‘be responsible’ for me.”
He turned, eyes blazing like fire.
“Effort that goes against one’s dreams only brings pain,” Cheng Su said. “I know better than anyone what I want.”
It wasn’t that he was angry at anyone—he simply liked playing support. That was all.
Cheng Wensheng curved his lips and, in the tone of someone experienced talking to a rebellious teen, said, “Is that so? Do you know how many players are in the HPL? How many of them actually make it to the playoffs and end up representing China internationally?”
“Do you know how many players retire quietly each year because they wasted their peak years? You know nothing about the future. You will regret it.”
His meaning was clear: people rise, water flows downward. From both a practical and idealistic standpoint, the ultimate goal of a professional player is to play at the World Championship.
With TL’s strength, Cheng Su would have basically guaranteed access to the Worlds. PNG, on the other hand…?
Cheng Su didn’t want to continue this discussion. “You think PNG can’t do it?”
“Whether PNG can or cannot, TL will definitely make it,” Cheng Wensheng said wryly, shaking his head. “My confidence comes from myself. Cheng Su, on what grounds are you refuting me now?”
…Endlessly nagging, like a fly buzzing around. Cheng Su kept a cold expression, lips pressed tightly. The moment Cheng Wensheng said the classic line, “I’m doing this for your own good,” he would’ve punched him without hesitation.
The atmosphere between them grew increasingly tense.
After a long silence, Cheng Su stared into Cheng Wensheng’s eyes and slowly said, “Amor.”
He used his older brother’s professional ID. “After today, you’ll know the answer.”
Then, without waiting for a response, he walked away.
——
Just after rounding the corner, Cheng Su ran into four teammates eavesdropping at the wall.
Cheng Su: …
Caught red-handed, they all looked up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze.
He rubbed his temple in frustration and looked at Sui Ning. “I thought you wouldn’t… do this.”
Sui Ning blinked innocently at him.
Seeing that Cheng Su didn’t seem angry, Lin Zhaoxu, who considered himself closest to Cheng Su, perked up.
“Hehe, Su,” Lin Zhaoxu leaned in with a slightly ingratiating smile, “don’t be mad. We’ll make sure to give your useless brother a good beating!”
He had overheard quite a bit just now. Damn it, he’d thought Old Cheng was a good guy. What a trashy older brother—better to let it go!
Cheng Su rolled his eyes. “…As long as he doesn’t get beaten to a pulp, it’s fine. Have some self-awareness, will you?”
Lin Zhaoxu laughed, wrapping his arm tightly around Cheng Su’s neck.
The sudden grip almost made Cheng Su’s calm expression slip, but he had to admit that having his teammates around lightened his mood slightly.
“Don’t mind him. Just a controlling maniac putting on a show—golden outside, rotten inside.”
Cheng Su sighed. “Let’s go back. If we waste any more time here, the coach will get angry. When Emperor Chen is angry, a million bodies fall.”
“Uh…”
Lin Zhaoxu, worried, reached out to feel Cheng Su’s temperature. “Su, you… why are you making these awful jokes? Are you okay?!”
“…I’m fine.”
The group chattered as they walked toward the lounge, with Ji Yunyu and Sui Ning trailing at the back as usual.
Sui Ning looked up at Cheng Su’s back, thoughtful.
Ji Yunyu nudged him with his arm. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking…”
Sui Ning looked at Ji Yunyu seriously. “Today, we have to win decisively.”
Hearing that, Ji Yunyu didn’t reply but extended his fist. They bumped fists in silent agreement.
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