Sister, Choose Me, I'm Super Sweet [Esports] - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 : Your Followed Streamer Has Gone Live

As soon as Tong Yi walked through the door, she saw that everyone was already there.

Qu Feng was sitting on the couch, holding a chubby tabby cat in her arms and petting it. That was Tong Yi’s cat—its name was Sweet Melon, and she’d had it for six years now.

“Captain, you’re back!” Qu Feng immediately called out when she saw her.

Zhou Shiqing, who had been on the phone nearby, noticed Tong Yi’s return and quickly told the person on the other end, “Let’s talk later,” before hanging up.

“Mm,” Tong Yi nodded. “Just went out to clear my head. Let’s go, time to review the match.”

Normally, after every game, Zhou Shiqing would lead them in reviewing the day’s match.

But the moment Qu Feng heard Tong Yi say that, her expression shifted slightly. She looked a bit awkward and hesitant, unable to get a word out for a while.

“Um…”

“What’s wrong?” Tong Yi picked up on it instantly.

Zhou Shiqing took a deep breath, walked over, and said to Tong Yi, “We won’t be reviewing today. There’s something I need to tell you all. The main roster is already here—we were just waiting for you.”

Tong Yi, who had been about to pick up Sweet Melon, paused mid-action and looked up at Zhou Shiqing with a somewhat confused expression.

Inside the meeting room.

All five players from the main roster were present. Zhou Shiqing sat in her usual seat at the front—the one she always used when holding team meetings—but her expression was unusually grim.

After a moment, she finally spoke, her tone serious:

“Xinhuo Esports Club plans to disband after this season.”

Tong Yi had more or less guessed what she was going to say, so she didn’t react too strongly. She just leaned back in her chair, suddenly feeling drained.

“I knew it…” Tong Yi sighed.

“The club’s boss told me about this a while ago,” Zhou Shiqing continued, “but I waited until after the Spring Split to tell you all, so it wouldn’t affect your performance.”

“So, what do we do now?” Xia Yun asked.

Zhou Shiqing looked at her and replied, “Your contracts all run until the end of the year. We still have the Summer Split to play. But considering the current situation, the boss says it’s up to you—you can transfer now if you want, or stay and finish the season. If you have other plans, you can bring them up too.”

The room fell silent. Everyone understood what Zhou Shiqing meant.

After the Spring Split, the transfer window would open. Anyone who wanted to move to another team could bring it up now.

Zhou Shiqing waited a moment, then added, “There’s one more thing—I’m not planning to stay on as coach either. I’ll likely transition to doing commentary instead. If any of you choose to stay, you’ll probably be playing the next six months without a professional coach.”

In other words, she was encouraging them to transfer and find better teams.

“You’re leaving too?” Tong Yi asked.

Zhou Shiqing nodded, somewhat helplessly. “I’ve reached my limit. If I stay, I’ll just be holding you back.”

Another awkward silence settled over the room.

Finally, Tong Yi spoke up.

“I’m staying,” she said firmly.

Zhou Shiqing was momentarily stunned. “Are you sure? You still have decent commercial value. If we list you for transfer, a lot of teams would be interested.”

“I’m sure,” Tong Yi replied quickly. “It’s just one last split anyway. Transferring after that would be the same.”

Zhou Shiqing looked like she wanted to persuade her further, but before she could say anything, Xia Yun also spoke up.

“I’m staying too,” Xia Yun raised her hand seriously. “I’ve already played so many games for Xinhuo. There’s no reason to back down now, especially with so little time left.”

After all, she was Xinhuo’s last remaining first-generation player.

Zhou Shiqing looked at the two of them, wanting to say more, but ultimately just smiled faintly in resignation.

Then she turned to the remaining three players. “What about you?”

“I’m retiring,” Wen Xia said, waving her bandaged right hand. “The doctor told me I shouldn’t be playing anymore.”

“Got it. The team will take care of all the arrangements,” Zhou Shiqing nodded quickly.

Honestly, it was already a miracle that Wen Xia had managed to finish today’s match. Her retirement had long been anticipated.

Next, Qu Feng gave her answer. “I’m going to transfer.”

“Do you have a team in mind?” Zhou Shiqing asked.

Qu Feng hesitated for a long time but couldn’t name a single team.

She didn’t want to go to a weak team, and strong teams probably wouldn’t want her.

“Whatever. Anyone’s fine,” she said at last. “When I first joined Xinhuo, I thought I’d grow a lot here… but look how that turned out.”

Her words made things a bit awkward for Zhou Shiqing.

“Alright, I’ll list you at a low price. You can choose when the offers come in,” Zhou Shiqing said.

Just then, Tong Yi spoke.

“Xiao Feng, are you sure about this? If you transfer to another team, you might not even make the starting roster. Why not just stay and play one more Summer Split here?”

“I am sure!” Qu Feng suddenly stood up, visibly upset, startling everyone in the room.

Only Tong Yi remained calm as she looked at her.

Qu Feng’s eyes welled with tears, full of hurt. “Even if I end up as a substitute elsewhere, it’s better than staying here! I don’t believe I’ll stay benched forever once I leave Xinhuo!”

“…Alright. I respect your decision,” Tong Yi replied gently. “I hope we get a chance to face off on the battlefield someday.”

Qu Feng gave her a look, then wiped her tears roughly with one hand and stormed out of the meeting room.

“Xiao Feng…” Xu Yue called after her.

“Let her cool off,” Zhou Shiqing said.

Xu Yue turned back, biting her lip. “Coach Zhou, I… I’m transferring too.”

“Okay. Same as Qu Feng—I’ll list you at a low price,” Zhou Shiqing responded.

For players like Qu Feng and Xu Yue, who hadn’t yet made a major mark in the pro scene, being listed cheaply was the best way to attract interest from teams seeking high cost-performance ratios.

“Alright,” Xu Yue replied without hesitation.

“Any other questions?” Zhou Shiqing asked the rest of them.

No one responded.

After waiting a bit longer, Zhou Shiqing stood up.

“No matter what, I hope you all find success—achieve better results on the battlefield. That’s all for today. Go get some rest and start planning your next steps.”

Everyone gradually left the room.

Tong Yi and Zhou Shiqing were the last to leave.

“I’ll go check on Xiao Feng,” Tong Yi said.

Zhou Shiqing patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll go. You rest.”

Tong Yi hesitated for a moment, then nodded silently and returned to her dorm.

After her shower, Tong Yi lay on her bed, staring blankly into space. Her mind was sharp and clear—she wasn’t the least bit sleepy. Sweet Melon had already curled up on her arm and fallen asleep, breathing softly.

At that moment, a strange sense of uncertainty about the future washed over her.

She lay like that for over ten minutes, then suddenly sprang upright in bed like a fish flipping out of water.

“Meow~”

Startled awake, Sweet Melon stood up too and stretched lazily on the bed.

Tong Yi gently stroked her from head to tail. “Good girl, go back to sleep. Mama has something to do.”

With that, she tossed off the covers, pulled on a jacket while flipping on the lights, then sat down at her computer.

She opened the game—and launched her livestream.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a good idea to go live right after losing a match. The hate would be intense. But she’d already been flamed so many times that she was basically immune.

The month was nearly over, and she still had plenty of stream time left to complete. This was a good time to grind it out.

Better to do something than lie around feeling lost. Besides, it wasn’t even late yet—not time to sleep. In the esports world, they usually slept in the early morning and got up around noon or later.

Xinhuo Esports had a contract with the streaming platform Kitten Live. According to her contract, Tong Yi had to stream 40 hours per month.

She launched the stream, changed the room title to “Just Casual Games,” then opened Break the Formation and entered the game lobby.

She had a decent fan base. In the past two years, she’d gained a lot of haters too. The moment she went live, people flooded in.

? Am I seeing things? She’s actually streaming today?

You played like trash and still have the nerve to go live? You’re seriously not afraid of getting roasted, huh.

…Too tired to even flame anymore. Thick skin.

Those were the milder comments. Others were far more vulgar and nasty—clearly from people who hadn’t even watched the matches and were just there to troll.

Tong Yi glanced briefly at the barrage of comments, her face expressionless. Instead, she calmly turned on her webcam.

“Nothing much to do tonight. Just going to solo queue a bit,” she said evenly.

Nothing to do? Guess you’re skipping match review, huh?

No wonder Xinhuo plays like garbage every year. With such a lazy captain, the rest of the team’s bound to follow suit.

Hope your team disbands soon. Get the hell out of the league!

There were a few more rational comments as well:

You haters done yet? Tong Yi’s not the only pro streaming tonight—why are you singling her out?

The match is over. Can’t a player relax for a bit?

Win or lose, I’m a face fan. Doesn’t matter to me. Winning’s nice, losing is okay too. Just don’t retire, okay?

Still, these supportive voices were quickly drowned out by the flood of toxic comments.

Meanwhile

Lying in bed watching videos on her tablet, Song Jinyuan suddenly heard a notification from her phone.

Casually crossing her legs, she picked it up and glanced at the screen—then froze.

—The streamer you follow, Xinhuo.TongYi, has gone live.