Thermos

On the second day of the competition, Xue Wei went again.

Today’s schedule included the last match of National Team Two, the South American team against the North American team, and SSQ against the Russian team.

The exhibition match was the most popular and discussed part of the entire All-Star Game.

Everyone knew clearly that this year’s exhibition match was different from previous years; it wasn’t merely a “performance.”

The Chinese team had only been established for two years. In various international competitions during these two years, Wen Man’s National Team One had achieved their highest record—fourth place in the World Championship.

In other events like the World Championship and World Professional Tour, other teams, apart from the national team, couldn’t even make it through, often being eliminated in the preliminary stages.

The European team was a formidable opponent that other teams dared not even dream of facing, and the other regional league teams were also incredibly strong opponents.

Social media platforms had specifically prepared a discussion channel for this year’s All-Star Game, which had consistently occupied the top spot on all search rankings.

Yesterday, National Team One defeated National Team Two 3:0.

And was subsequently defeated 3:0, shut out by the European team.

The scoring results of the other matches also appeared on the display board.

“The European team is still too ruthless. God Knife used methods specifically targeting Captain Wen to completely suppress Little P God. But while Captain Wen could handle it, Little P God was completely overwhelmed.”

“Little P God has only been playing professionally for just over a year. We need to give him room to grow. Everyone says he’s the sniper to succeed Captain Wen, but he hasn’t perfected it yet.”

“Will the competition give him room to grow? I ask you, can the national team afford to wait? Wen Man hasn’t even taken a coaching position this season. Little P God is the main player. If he can’t shoulder the responsibility, then who else can we rely on?”

“God Wen will lead him. Sniper duo CP will never be enslaved!”

Little P God, ID [Pandora], is currently the only sniper in National Team One, and the main sniper.

He hasn’t started in the World Championship yet, but the public generally considers him Wen Man’s substitute—when Wen Man doesn’t start, he goes in, a treatment that is unique.

His M82A1 armor-piercing long-range sniper rifle skills are entirely inherited from Wen Man himself.

The player himself is just eighteen this year, with a proper and handsome, very youthful appearance, and he is obedient, also very popular among fans.

“For those of you shipping CPs, I hope you clear your heads. This is a competition, not the entertainment industry. You can’t win by kissing, hugging, and carrying. Pretty, at his peak, prepared substitutes, brought snipers into the youth training camp, and gave up his starting position himself. Don’t you know what this means? He’s fighting a battle with his back to the wall. He doesn’t care about the things you care about, okay? He knows he’s always being targeted; he just wants to lead the Chinese team to win.”

“Little P God is strong, but his playstyle is just ‘Little Pretty’. Whether he can shoulder the responsibility in the future is hard to say.”

“Speaking of which, in National Team One’s two matches this time, God Wen really didn’t sit in the coaching position, huh?”

The image posted in the topic showed Alan and the head coach standing behind National Team One’s player seats.

In the past, when Wen Man wasn’t playing, he would sit in the coach’s seat and listen to the in-team comms.

This time, he didn’t appear at all, instead sitting in the player seating area to watch the matches.

Someone quickly posted a picture on the topic page, taken by a fan with a telephoto DSLR, very clear.

Wen Man sat in the spectator guest area, holding a notebook, not writing, just twirling his pen, his eyes showing a relaxed and natural coldness.

No one approached him.

When the head coach rotated off to rest, he would come to talk to him.

Wen Man lowered his peach blossom eyes and spoke in a low voice, saying something unintelligible.

During halftime, when team members wanted to come talk to him, Wen Man would raise his palm, shaking his hand with the back facing outwards, forbidding them from approaching.

This scene was even clipped into a GIF.

“National team’s kids begging God Wen for a hug, but rejected!”

“Cold and ruthless Pretty.”

“Spectator machine Pretty.”

Besides this point, people also noticed one other thing.

That is, in the other player spectator area, a very mysterious hat-and-mask wearing youth also appeared.

He watched every match without fail, also holding a small notebook.

Originally, people hadn’t noticed him, but the broadcast camera occasionally swept over the audience seats, catching him several times.

Only a pair of beautiful eyes and a general silhouette, yet he had already attracted a large number of ‘face-fans’.

“Is this the same masked young man from the subway before?! The one with EGT!”

“Yes, yes, it seems to be him. The clothes changed, but the mask and hat are still the same color. He’s also sitting in the EGT spectator area.”

“Help me, it’s been two days, ID card, ID card, has no one managed to photograph his ID card yet? Who exactly is he?”

“He’s holding a notebook, recording match conditions. This young man can’t be EGT’s new coach, can he? … Where would you find such a young coach.”

On the second day, this young man appeared in the same spot again.

Today, besides National Team Two’s final battle, a major event was SSQ versus the North American team.

North America had taken third place in the World Championship for two consecutive years, including this year—they weren’t an absolutely overwhelming powerhouse like the European team, but they always managed to score just enough to qualify.

Pre-match preparation phase.

Both sides’ players rose to go backstage for the draw.

The commentator on stage introduced: “North American FNC, although their roster has been adjusted compared to the World Championship, the changes are not significant.”

Commentator 1: “We are all familiar with the North American team’s classic tactics—not a secret, but difficult to counter. Their roster system is extremely flexible; everyone can swap positions and roles at any time. The battlefield is unpredictable, achieving a strange stability through teamwork. Currently, this set of tactics has started to be learned by other major teams, but their main team remains the most stable in its execution.”

Commentator 2: “As for SSQ, we are very familiar with them. They excel at defensive playstyles, and the key point of each round usually lies with their sniper. Ming Xu has proven in multiple matches that he can handle this position.”

“Currently, this is the first time these two teams meet on the battlefield. Let’s wait a few minutes for the venue draw results.”

The broadcast camera moved away from the stage.

The commentators started chatting casually.

Other team members went down to draw lots.

Xue Wei closed his notebook, stood up with his thermos, and headed backstage.

Pro players were quite convenient, at least they had great freedom of movement.

As the broadcast camera swept by, live stream viewers quickly noticed something: “Look! The masked young man is standing up! He’s walking backstage! He must be a pro player!”

“Is anyone going to intercept him?”

“Can’t intercept him. The audience section and the professional audience section are separated by an entire fire isolation corridor. Yesterday we tried to call out to him, but the young man either didn’t hear or didn’t realize we were calling him…”

“God Wen also stood up! Everyone’s going to watch the draw, huh! I beg the broadcast team, I don’t want to see the commentators’ big faces; I want to see God Wen. If not, let God Wen go up and commentate!”

In the live broadcast, the man also stood up from his seat and walked backstage.

Backstage.

Both teams’ players drew maps and positions under the supervision of the event organizers.

They drew a relatively conventional competition map; SSQ drew the CT (Counter-Terrorist) side.

Commentator 1: “The draw results have now been announced. Our All-Star SSQ team drew the CT side.”

Commentator 2: “This is not very favorable for them. You know, in the North American team’s conventional tactics, the T side has a 99% win rate. The only time they lost was, I remember, the first round of the World Professional Tour finals, where they lost to Pretty.”

Commentator 1: “So, essentially, they just need to counter like Pretty did.”

Commentator 2 and the entire audience laughed: “The difficulty is immense. Pretty’s victory in that round relied on his individual skill to suppress the opponent. The difficulty of replicating that… is extremely high.”

After both sides drew lots, there were five minutes to discuss tactics.

The coach and members discussed in low voices.

“At that time, let Ming Xu… right, use our highest win rate strategy…”

Halfway through their discussion, someone knocked on the door from outside.

Two firm, polite knocks.

Su Wei opened the door and saw a heavily bundled young man standing outside.

Xue Wei.

She was somewhat surprised.

She glanced back at her team members, then closed the door first, and went outside to ask him: “What are you doing here?”

Xue Wei stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes dark: “If you play like this, you will lose.”

Su Wei: “?”

Before Su Wei could even process her disbelief, Xue Wei said again: “Before, I stood you up, sorry. I joined the national team; I didn’t know myself.”

Su Wei thought to herself, ‘I almost forgot about that.’

She smiled awkwardly but politely: “That was the national team’s discerning eye. Did you come here just to say this?”

Xue Wei quietly stared at her: “Yes, so I came to give you a warning. If you play like this, you will lose.”

SSQ’s main playstyle was no secret: centered around the sniper, three players protecting one to take out points one by one, playing aggressively.

Ming Xu’s individual ability was impressive, and this playstyle had a high win rate, especially against flexible roster systems.

They hadn’t played against the North American team before, but they were absolutely confident in their tactics.

Su Wei tried hard not to laugh—she remembered the note the young man had left before.

“If you can let me keep my account, I will come to your team, and I will also tell you the solutions to your team’s problems. Contact number: XXXX”

‘Why is this young man still so chuunibyou?’

Su Wei’s expression also reverted to professional indifference: “Okay, thanks for the reminder, but team tactical discussions are team secrets. You’re not part of our team, so it’s best if you step aside a bit.”

Xue Wei stared at her for a moment longer, then said: “Okay.”

“Then I’m going to get some water.”

Xue Wei was holding a thermos lid in his hand, clearly having snuck over while getting water.

He showed no emotional fluctuation, hands in his pockets, and walked back calmly.

Walking into the pantry, Xue Wei paused slightly.

“Captain Wen, the SSQ training group is over there. Their coach said they finished discussing in advance and are waiting for your guidance.” An assistant ran in. “They couldn’t find you just now.”

“I’m not going to guide them on tactics,”

The water dispenser ‘beeped’.

Wen Man held his cup, saying casually, “I’m just here to get water.”

Xue Wei stood about three to five steps away from him.

He saw that Wen Man was holding his cup.

A small paper cup stood nearby.

Xue Wei had just placed his cup there and then went to SSQ’s side, not bothering with it.

It looked like he was occupying a water-fetching spot.

But there were eight empty water dispenser spots in the pantry.

“Yours.”

Wen Man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, saying this first, then turning around and extending his hand to him, “Student, your cup.”

Xue Wei said: “I’ll get it myself.”

Wen Man didn’t give it, speaking concisely: “Hot.”

His fingertips loosely held the rim of the cup, steam rising from within.

Xue Wei, for some reason, felt like arguing with him: “I want cold water.”

“That small thermos of yours will be cold in half an hour anyway. Close enough,” Wen Man said, “Cup lid.”

Xue Wei then handed over the cup lid, but he debated for his small thermos: “It won’t get cold for two hours.”

Wen Man didn’t respond.

He lowered his eyes, screwed the thermos lid on for him, then handed it over.

Xue Wei reached out to take it.

His hand, which had been tucked in his pocket the whole way, still had slightly cool, slender, and soft fingertips.

After handing him the cup, Wen Man said nothing, then turned to get water in a small paper cup again.

The sound of water falling into the paper cup made a very clear sound.

Only the two of them were in the pantry, making this small sound exceptionally distinct.

Xue Wei walked out, holding his cup.

He heard Wen Man finish getting water, then went silent.

Xue Wei rounded the corner and looked back.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Wen Man leaning against the wall, doing nothing, just watching him.