The Weight of Expectations

Meeting Shen Wei’an stirred memories for Lan Mengyao. She, too, had once considered writing a novel, however.

‘Your hands are so small. How are you so much fairer than me? I heard pianists have such soft hands. You smell so nice. Your hands are so cold. You’re so cute.’

‘Let’s compare hand sizes. Your hair smells wonderful. Your eyes are beautiful. Can you stay tonight?’

‘You can write novels?’ ‘You’re actually writing a ‘daikon bun’ story?’ ‘Do you even know how to write a novel?’ ‘This can flop too?’

‘Paragraph breaks, for heaven’s sake, paragraph breaks!’ ‘And for crying out loud, don’t put punctuation outside the quotation marks!’

‘Why are you putting a world-building introduction at the beginning?’ ‘What are you trying to be, literary, with a four-character title?’ ‘If you don’t want anyone to read it, then don’t write a synopsis!’

‘Stop using MS Paint to haphazardly create your childish covers; readers want to see beautiful girls!’

‘If your transformation novel can’t even make it to publication, don’t ask me why. Instead, ask if your protagonist, who’s too busy fondling and fumbling, still has a functioning brain!’

Shaking her head, Lan Mengyao banished the stillborn novel-writing plan from her mind. Dressed in a form-fitting blue cheongsam-style gown, she gracefully weaved through the crowd.

Her lithe figure and the gentle chime of tinkling bells captivated everyone’s attention.

Finally, Lan Mengyao spotted the red-haired girl, who was currently bantering with her friends, and settled down beside her.

“Hey~”

“So, tell me, is that silver-haired little one the person you mentioned to me before?”

The red-haired girl turned, smiling at Lan Mengyao, before explaining to those around them.

“Mengyao told me she has a sister who plays support, and she trains incredibly hard. There’s no way I couldn’t come and see her for myself.”

Hearing that it was Lan Mengyao’s sister, everyone’s interest was piqued.

“Is she your biological sister? How come you’ve never mentioned her before? And she’s not a top-laner like you, surprisingly.”

“Well then, I’ll have to examine her closely with a magnifying glass, to see if she’s inherited your talent.”

As the four conversed and joked amongst themselves, the match on the large screen above entered the ban and pick phase.

“Alright, I really need to watch this closely now,” the red-haired girl declared. “I want to see what kind of skill level someone you consider ‘not bad’ possesses.”

The red-haired girl settled back into her premium seat in the audience, crossing her legs as she watched the match with keen interest.

She was Yu Shengshui, a top-tier marksman who had once won a world championship alongside Lan Mengyao.

With the two former world champions seated together, they naturally became the focal point for the audience, their presence almost overshadowing the ten players still competing.

The champion selection had concluded, and fifteen minutes into the game, Lan Mengyao’s brow furrowed slightly.

Qing Zixi’s team was surprisingly falling behind across the board. They attempted synchronous pushes on all three lanes repeatedly.

Yet, invariably, one lane would fail to breach the enemy’s defenses, leading to them being outnumbered and outmaneuvered elsewhere. This pattern repeated, and after just fifteen minutes, they were significantly behind.

In contrast to Qing Zixi’s team, which heavily emphasized aggression, the opposing team appeared far more cohesive and well-rounded.

Each member performed their role diligently, protecting allies when necessary and controlling enemies as their positions dictated.

“So, your sister… does she also enjoy playing long-range against short-range, just like you?”

Yu Shengshui turned, playfully patting Lan Mengyao’s thigh with a smile as she teased, though she quickly added more.

“While they’re at a significant disadvantage, I can tell her mind is still sharp. Every time she sends out those eagles to circle high above and scout, she successfully pinpoints the enemy’s positions.”

“However, their overall aggressive playstyle, even with full map vision, makes it too easy to give the opponents opportunities.”

Yu Shengshui’s assessment was spot-on. There were moments when simply retreating would have averted danger.

Yet, they seemed constantly driven to prove themselves, charging recklessly into close combat. Amidst the clash of blades, the arrival of a second opponent instantly tipped the scales, leaving their battlefield unbalanced.

Due to time constraints, the training camp hosted numerous youth trainees, but the coaches lacked the luxury of watching every single match.

Consequently, several games were played concurrently. Qing Zixi’s team, unceremoniously suppressed and unable to even leave their base, offered little to no spectacle.

Disappointed, many of the initially hopeful spectators began turning their attention to other ongoing matches.

The second and third matches also ended in crushing defeats. A brutal three-game losing streak turned Qing Zixi’s seven consecutive wins from yesterday into a mere joke.

As the third game concluded, all five players sat stunned in their chairs, still unable to fully process what had happened.

A total of twenty teams were divided into four main groups for the preliminary selection, with five small teams in each group.

Only three of these five teams would advance, meaning that if a team lost two consecutive matches, one more loss would leave their fate entirely dependent on others.

And Qing Zixi’s team, at this moment, had effectively been handed a suspended death sentence.

The matches across all four major groups were held simultaneously, totaling ten games.

This afternoon’s schedule marked the conclusion of the preliminary rounds. There were no revival matches in these qualifiers; failure meant the complete loss of all opportunities.

The twelve teams that advanced would then participate in a new draw.

“…”

Lan Mengyao sat in the spectator stands, a complex expression clouding her face.

She found herself recalling her own very first experience stepping onto this stage, long ago. Back then, she too had lost matches, feeling powerless despite her efforts.

Not far away, Shen Wei’an also clenched her small fists tightly.

‘Idiot, you big idiot! I specifically blew off my commissions and readers just to watch this match. Don’t you dare get eliminated with three consecutive losses, you dummy!’

During the break, the team was so dispirited they didn’t even have the heart to watch other matches to study their opponents.

Finally, it was Luoluo who spoke first.

“E-everyone,” Luoluo stammered, “I think we need to change our style. If everyone only thinks about attacking, how can we be considered a competent team?”

She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, trying to cheer everyone up.

However, the three male teammates had completely lost their morale at this point.

They had a history of coordinating well and had initially been full of confidence. Yet, they inexplicably found themselves constantly led by the nose by their opponents, always falling into a disadvantage.

This left them feeling utterly frustrated.

After three consecutive losses, their hopes of advancing were already extremely slim.

What good would winning the last game do? A 1-3 record only offered a theoretical chance of advancement: if three teams all ended with a 1-3 record, and their advancement was then judged by game time.

Qing Zixi had more or less figured them out.

It was clear that trying to make them adapt to the overall team strategy was no longer feasible; there was simply no time left for adjustments.

During this brief break, Qing Zixi slowly closed her eyes.

She saw the blue-haired girl amidst the crowd.

She was always so dazzling, dressed in an elegant and luxurious blue gown. Simply sitting there quietly, she seemed to effortlessly draw everyone’s gaze.

‘If she were here, this team wouldn’t be in such a sorry state, would it…’

‘If I were to suffer a losing streak and get eliminated in the preliminaries right in front of her…’

Qing Zixi thought, ‘I’d never be able to hold my head high in Lan Mengyao’s bed again.’

“Tsk, can’t we just pay the top-ranked team some money to make them forfeit the match?”

Having just finished a performance, Zi Yun’ai settled into the back seat of her car, rubbing her forehead as she snatched a moment to watch the live broadcast.

Qing Zixi’s match results were far from satisfactory.

“No, Master,” a voice replied. “I suggest you close your eyes and rest. The lighting on your next stage will be quite dazzling.”