Little Fish and Mint - Chapter 1

Yiyi: “This golden rain falls for you, you deserve it. @0G-Roy /[crying][heart]”

The nine-picture Weibo post included three photos of OG winning the MSI championship overseas, with fans shedding tears of joy; three selfies with OG players and the official host; and three gorgeous photos of Yiyi draped in an OG team flag, taken by someone else.

Xu Yitong munched on an apple while taking a screenshot of the post and sending it to her group chat.

The group was in the middle of a heated discussion about Flechzao’s new summer collection, so Xu Yitong’s screenshot was quickly buried. 

She sent it again, adding: [Quiet down! Does anyone have this person’s contact info?]

Moli was the first to respond: [Looking for a player’s girlfriend? From OG? Wait, Tongtong, don’t tell me you’re still chasing after that guy?]

The group went eerily silent.

Moli quickly followed up: [Actually, that’s a great idea! I’ll help you find it!]

Someone else, oblivious, sent a venomous voice message: “After all this time, I think it’s hopeless. You still want to infiltrate the girlfriend circle, Tongzai? Give it up.”

Ugh!

Xu Yitong threw her apple down, flopping onto her bed in frustration.

…

…

Not long ago, Xu Yitong had fallen in love at first sight.

Or, more accurately, she’d fallen for a professional LPL player.

LPL, short for League of Legends Pro League, was the highest level of professional League of Legends competition in mainland China.

It was only later that she learned he was a very, very famous active player in the scene.

This was a world Xu Yitong had never explored. She didn’t understand how good he was at the game, or how big a deal he was in the esports world.

She only clearly remembered two things:

This man loved cookies.

He hated mint.

Moli was incredibly efficient. Within two days, she’d arranged an afternoon tea with Yiyi.

A three-tiered silver platter, filled with intricate pastries and snacks, sat on the table. Xu Yitong had no appetite, sipping her coffee instead.

In these semi-acquaintance gatherings, conversations usually started with handbags and jewelry. This was Xu Yitong’s comfort zone. 

She’d never been shy, even with strangers. She smiled, making eye contact, making it seem like everything anyone said was interesting.

Mentioning Flechzao, Yiyi complained, “That First Rain bracelet from Yijian is so hard to get. I’ve asked several sales associates, and they all say it’s out of stock.”

Xu Yitong smiled warmly. “You like it too? I know a pretty reliable reseller. I’ll send you their info.”

“Great!”

Within half an hour, they’d exchanged WeChat contacts, and Yiyi was already calling Xu Yitong “Tongtong.”

After the handbag and jewelry discussion, the pastries remained mostly untouched. It was photo time. Xu Yitong fiddled with her phone. 

“Excuse me, I need to reply to a message.”

Yiyi glanced at her. 

“No problem, go ahead.”

What a dazzling young miss. Her large, diamond-encrusted hoop earrings swayed, catching the light. So eye-catching, yet her beauty still outshone them. Had anyone ever told her she resembled the Japanese actress Ayase Haruka? 

Her violet satin slip dress revealed snow-white skin. Her dark hair was beautiful, her lip gloss sweet, and her eyes, whether smiling or not, were sparkling and pure.

She looked like someone who never had a worry in the world.

A faint click sounded. Xu Yitong looked up, puzzled.

“That angle was perfect. I couldn’t resist taking a picture. I’ll send it to you later.” 

Yiyi handed her phone to Xu Yitong. 

“How are these photos I took?”

Xu Yitong glanced at them. 

“Oh, they look great!”

Handing the phone back, she asked, “Are you posting them on your Moments or Weibo?”

“Both,” Yiyi grinned.

Moli, catching Xu Yitong’s eye signal, steered the conversation.

“I saw your Weibo the other day. You and your boyfriend seem so happy. How long have you been together?”

“Two or three years.”

“It must be hard dating an esports player, right?”

“It is,” Yiyi chuckled. 

“I get flamed every time he loses a match. I’m used to it now.”

The others, whose boyfriends were also esports players, agreed. The conversation shifted to the “trials and tribulations of being an esports player’s girlfriend.” The saying “Don’t bring family into it” didn’t apply in the esports world. 

When fans lashed out, they targeted everyone within a player’s radius, especially their girlfriends. The girlfriends’ looks, education, and family backgrounds were constantly scrutinized online, and any relationship trouble became public gossip.

“And some of these pro players are not only average-looking but also poorly educated. They haven’t even won a championship, yet they’re popular with these little internet celebrities, and their girlfriends are all stunning. Cheating is common.”

“The game filter is too strong, and it’s scary,” they all agreed.

Moli asked, curious, “So why do you date esports players?”

“Clout is one aspect,” Yiyi admitted frankly. “He’s also very wealthy. Being the girlfriend of an OG main player is very satisfying for the ego.”

Esports fandoms were different from regular idol fandoms. They valued results, so dating wasn’t a big taboo. If a player performed well, having a girlfriend, or even a “boyfriend,” was acceptable.

Moli took a sip of coffee to calm herself. 

“I see…”

Someone asked, “By the way, do you follow any esports players?”

Finally.

After nearly an hour, they finally got to the point.

“I don’t really follow esports. I don’t know many players,” Xu Yitong said quickly, then hinted, “I only know Yu Ge.”

The name hung in the air like a taboo, silencing the conversation.

They exchanged knowing glances, their expressions turning subtle.

After a moment of awkward silence, Yiyi asked, “Why was it Fish that you liked?”

“Yeah, why Fish?” another echoed.

Xu Yitong, missing the nuance, looked puzzled. “Yes, him. Is that weird?”

More silence.

After exchanging glances, Yiyi turned back to her, answering objectively, “He is quite popular.”

As one of the LPL’s “leading men,” the ID OG-Fish carried its own prestige and charm. Anyone who followed esports gossip knew Yu Ge was incredibly popular.

These girlfriends were practically insiders. Over the years, many of their friends had been interested in Yu Ge, asking for introductions. The list of names could probably fill an A4 page.

And it was true, those qualities were easy for a woman to fall for. Yiyi already felt prestigious being Roy’s girlfriend. If it were Yu Ge… Yiyi couldn’t even imagine. She’d probably strut around with an extra swagger.

But…

“But what?” Xu Yitong pressed.

Another esports girlfriend answered, “But Fish is impossible.”

Impossible to get. No, completely unattainable.

He’d been popular for years, earning a top salary, yet he had virtually no romantic scandals. He was known in the industry as the last man with an unbreakable Dao Heart – a terrifyingly unapproachable man.

Persistence was useless.

Secret crushes led to dead ends.

In short, it was hopeless.

Liking him was like declaring, “Go ahead, you can hurt me now.”

And Yu Ge never held back.

After all, who could imagine that after two years of dating Roy, and at least twenty meals with the OG team, Yu Ge still didn’t remember her name.

How terrifying was that?

“Yu Ge isn’t capable of liking anyone,” Yiyi declared.

Moli, recently heartbroken, felt a pang of empathy. Her worry deepened, and she was about to advise Xu Yitong to give up. But Xu Yitong looked up, her eyes bright, and asked excitedly, “But what if it’s me?”

“…”

This silly girl.

Having seen too many similar cases, Yiyi left it at that, not wanting to be too harsh.

“Well…it’s possible.”

This unworldly young miss clearly didn’t understand the situation. Chasing after Yu Ge… Yiyi could only assume she was following a trend.

“But,” Yiyi added a final, gentle warning, “be prepared.”

“For what?”

“It’ll probably take him three years just to remember your name.”

✧✧✧

That evening, after afternoon tea, Xu Yitong sent Yiyi the reseller’s WeChat contact and promised to gift her a classic Flechzao bag at their next meeting.

Soon after, Yiyi posted a public Moments update.

The center of the nine-picture grid was a selfie with Xu Yitong, captioned: “Today’s little happiness: met a super nice sweetie pie [cheers]”

Meanwhile, at the OG team base, Roy was jolted awake by his girlfriend’s incessant calls. Still groggy, and under his girlfriend’s repeated instructions and urging, he stumbled around with his phone, looking for someone.

Even during the off-season, the OG base was brightly lit. 

Yawning, Roy went downstairs, opened his girlfriend’s Moments post, and found the photo.

His eyebrows shot up as he recognized the face.

He pushed open the training room door.

He spotted the person sitting by the window, as expected.

Awen was there too.

Seeing them playing a custom 1v1 match, Roy walked over.

Little C leaned on the table, watching. 

“Why was Awen, that blind guy, only using W? Playing so cowardly! Who even taught him such a disgusting, turtle-style strategy? He wasn’t a real man at all.”

“Sore loser, are you? Pay up! Can’t win, so you resort to personal attacks.” 

Awen was gloating. 

“Today, I’ll teach you bot lane duo what a real jungle daddy is!”

Roy joined the others, watching the show.

Two minutes later, the computer chimed. First bl00d, the match decided. Awen let out a triumphant laugh, typing “GG” in chat.

Yu Ge exited the game. 

“I lost,” he said casually.

Little C groaned, his face full of frustration.

Amidst the sighs and complaints, Roy squeezed through the crowd. 

“Hey, Fish, I need to tell you something.”

Forgetting his girlfriend’s detailed instructions, he simply double-tapped the saved photo, enlarging it to fill his screen, and held it up to Yu Ge, grinning. 

“Yiyi said her gorgeous friend has a crush on you. Take a look.”

The young men who had started to disperse gathered back around Roy, eager for gossip.

“What, what?”

These were trainees, spending their vacation in the main team’s training room, looking for someone to play with. They wouldn’t dare tease Yu Ge directly, only whispering amongst themselves.

The man in the gaming chair seemed oblivious, his arms crossed as he stared at the replay on his screen, his gaze fixed. If it weren’t for the black headset hanging around his neck, Roy would have thought he hadn’t heard.

Roy shoved the phone closer. 

“It’s a girlfriend mission, just take a look.”

Four or five pairs of curious eyes focused on Yu Ge.

Finally, the silent man reacted, turning his head slightly.

But he didn’t look at the photo. Instead, he looked calmly at Roy.

Roy instantly fell silent.

The air pressure plummeted.

Awen grabbed the phone. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll look.”

Despite the summer heat, a chill ran down Roy’s spine. Facing those cold, dark eyes, he sobered up completely. He cleared his throat, no longer daring to be flippant.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to look. Don’t scare me, man.”

Strange.

Awen hummed, thinking aloud. 

“This beauty looks familiar. Where have I seen her before…?”

Intrigued, Little C leaned in for a closer look.

Awen pondered, his gamer brain working quickly. 

Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Isn’t she the girl from the Intercontinental Tournament opening ceremony? Remember?”

Yu Ge’s gaze shifted towards him, then back to the screen.

“Remember?” Awen pressed.

Yu Ge remained impassive. “No.”

Awen studied him, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Really? She even gave you a bouquet of roses shipped from the Gobi Desert. Pretty extravagant. No impression at all?”

Seemingly tired of Awen’s chatter, Yu Ge pressed the spacebar, pausing the replay. He said nothing, pushed back his chair, and prepared to leave.

Just then, Little C had a sudden realization, blurting out excitedly, “Oh, it’s that girl!”

Silence descended, everyone staring at him in surprise.

A second later, Little C’s familiar, idiotic shriek echoed through the training room. 

“Fish, how could you forget? You even added her on WeChat!”

Author’s Note:

Notes:

LPL definition from Baidu.

“Flaming someone with xx as the radius” is internet slang.

“Golden rain” is often used in real life when teams win championships, now encompassing various esports competitions, such as KPL, LPL, PUBG, etc. However, in 2018, when the LPL team RNG, which I followed, won the championship, this term was widely used online. If I remember correctly, the origin of this meme comes from there, so I’m highlighting it. The jargon and general environment (tournament schedule) in esports novels may inevitably have to refer to reality, but I will try my best to avoid reality. If there are any controversies or offenses in the text, please remind me in the comment section, and I will delete and modify them in time after verification. Finally, there is no real-life counterpart! I hope you enjoy reading!