Chapter 22 – Championship Victory
The bait game made a comeback at such an unexpected moment.
The viewers in the live stream finally remembered that before teaming up with Qingzhou, Chen Bai had been a pro at “baiting” strategies.
[Hahaha, I’ve been camping in Er Bai’s stream, and I’m glad I stayed to see the whole baiting process!]
[Baizhou Squad, you two!]
[Even Qingzhou can’t escape being bait when teaming up with Er Bai (cigarette emoji)]
[No wonder this scene seemed familiar! Back in the day, Er Bai and his happy little friends used to play the bait game exactly like this!!]
[Er Bai, how did you even convince Qingzhou to be the bait (wide-eyed emoji)]
With the bait game over, the pink-haired guy felt completely relaxed, finally free from holding back. He exuded a sense of joyful liberation and said, “I almost died from holding it in.”
“Stay here. I’ll go sort out the big fish’s loot.”
“Look at him—small frame, but lots of good stuff… There’s someone over there, Qingzhou. Let’s go say hi.”
He added, “Not everyone is as polite as Chen Er Bai.”
With the familiar sound of his voice in his ears, Qingzhou followed him to go “greet” the newcomer.
The result of their greeting was another kill added to their tally.
Compared to the previously silent and constrained players, they now seemed like completely different people.
Winning a match requires not only skill but also strategy.
Since the top 8 or even top 4, Baizhou Squad had realized that if they kept playing the way they had been, they would be heavily targeted in the finals. So, they took a different approach, adopting a conservative playstyle to avoid drawing too much attention.
Other teams were likely reviewing their gameplay after each match through official replays and audience analysis. The more they talked, the higher the chance they might slip up, so the two of them chose to keep communication minimal and concise.
Though it seemed a bit odd, this tactic worked wonders in establishing a conservative image.
It worked so well that neither their opponents nor the fans—nor even the second team player they just shot in the woods—expected that a team with such a cautious approach would suddenly pull out a risky bait strategy.
No one could have predicted that the player holding the big sniper rifle was the bait, and the one casually wandering around with a broken sniper was the fisherman.
The two hadn’t exchanged many words, but their execution was flawless, showing they’d practiced this countless times before.
Finally, the viewers caught on.
The day after the top 4 match, Chen Bai didn’t stream. The fans had assumed he was hiding somewhere, feeling sad, but in reality, he and Qingzhou were probably duo-queueing and practicing their baiting strategy.
[Such a dirty mind game! I didn’t expect this from you two—Er Bai and Qingzhou (not like this)]
[Hahaha, I knew Er Bai wouldn’t let prize money slip away so easily. No way.]
[You two even tricked us! Truly chilling!]
[Er Bai’s psychological games are beyond saving, but Qingzhou—you with that honest face? Playing mind games too?]
[Qingzhou has been completely corrupted by Er Bai. You two really make quite the pair. (sighing cat emoji)]
With the second-place team eliminated, the third-place team surged ahead, racking up more kills and climbing the leaderboard—until they crossed paths with Baizhou Squad, who “greeted” them as well.
The third-place team’s run ended there.
Before the final circle even formed, most of the players were already eliminated. Baizhou Squad, now fully geared, became like thugs, racking up kills wherever they went.
The last remaining enemy, hiding in a building, was finished off with a well-placed grenade, and the “Winner Winner Chicken Dinner” screen appeared.
Baizhou Squad had claimed first place with an overwhelming victory.
The stream chat, which had been frozen, suddenly reopened, and the screen was flooded with colorful gifts, the designs so flashy that they almost hurt to look at.
Dedicated as ever, Chen Bai began scrolling back through the chat to individually thank everyone for their gifts.
Meanwhile, the official main stream next door was struggling with the sheer volume of viewers, and the chat started to lag. Messages crawled across the screen before suddenly speeding up again, making it impossible to read anything.
Chen Bai leaned closer to the computer, trying to make out the chat, but realizing it was futile, he gave up and responded to the few messages he had caught earlier.
“Tonight’s stream will be delayed—I need to get dinner first.”
“…I’ll split the prize money with you, buddy. That’s worse than killing me.”
The donations kept coming, but the chat had completely frozen. The stream was stuck on a still image.
With the stream now unwatchable and his wrists sore from typing all day, Chen Bai bid farewell to his teammate and swiftly ended the broadcast.
He took off his headphones, and the surrounding area fell into a calm silence, giving his ears a much-needed break.
It was now 7:30 PM, perfectly missing dinner time, and the nearby restaurants were probably already closed.
The buns he bought in the morning, intending to eat for dinner, were actually eaten by noon. Now he had two choices: contribute to a fast-food chain’s revenue or cook his own meal.
Between spending money and saving it, the pink-haired guy decisively chose to save.
Putting on his jacket, he grabbed the two keys casually placed on the entryway and headed out.
The only place still open for groceries at this hour was the supermarket.
Pushing his cart through the store, he was selecting his preferred Chinese cabbage for dinner when his phone vibrated twice in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the screen.
It was a message from the same friend with whom he had just won the grand prize, asking if he had time to play together tonight.
His friend, who had long held the top spot on the platform, had received some insider information: the platform’s tech team was working on urgent repairs, and the live stream should be back to normal tonight.
Chen Bai stretched his wrist and, feeling that a bit of rest had done the trick, replied that he should be able to join.
It turned out to be a good day to visit the supermarket.
On the way to the checkout after buying the vegetables, he spotted a discount on low-gluten flour.
So, his cart now included both flour and cabbage.
Low-gluten flour is essential for making cakes. As he walked back from the supermarket, climbing the stairs of his apartment building with his groceries, he suddenly remembered something. Out of habit, he took a quick photo of the flour and thought about sending it to his good neighbor.
Opening the chat, he realized the last message exchange with his neighbor was quite a while ago.
Chen Bai finally remembered that, despite promising to keep in touch on the day his neighbor left, both of them had been busy—his neighbor with work, and him with competitions. These days, he mostly communicated with his teammate Qingzhou, sending casual banter that he used to share with his neighbor. It had been a long time since they last talked.
Standing in front of his door, he took out his two keys, glanced at the two doors nearby, and then pulled out his phone to send a message.
He unlocked the door next to his.*
*
On the other side of the city, at a film set, the previously quiet scene had become noisy.
A freshly wrapped actor accepted a towel from his assistant, wiping the sweat from his neck, veins on his arms bulging as he moved.
The assistant mentioned, “Mr. Xu, your phone rang twice earlier.”
Xu Sinian sat down and picked up his phone.
There were two new messages from ten minutes ago. After a quick glance, he responded.
“Mr. Xu, Director Chen wanted to discuss something with you,” the assistant said.
Just as Xu Sinian finished his reply, the set manager called out for him. Xu put down his phone and told the assistant, “Let me know if I get any messages.”
But after checking the time, he added, “Never mind.”
At this hour, the other party was likely already playing games with friends and wouldn’t reply during gaming sessions.
The assistant, momentarily confused, agreed.
Xu Sinian stood up and left.
The director wouldn’t interrupt rest time without reason—there was something important.
Upon reviewing the footage, the director felt that the lighting in one scene could be improved and wanted to reshoot it.
The filming schedule had already extended late into the night, and a reshoot meant overtime. While the scene was usable as is, the director thought it could be even better.
Xu Sinian simply said, “That’s fine.”
The director added, “One more thing…”
And with that, the short break was consumed by their conversation.
Handing the towel back to his assistant, Xu Sinian prepared for the next scene.
By the time his next break came, over an hour had passed. As soon as the scene wrapped, the stylists and makeup artists immediately surrounded him.
Standing at the edge of the group, the assistant struggled to pass him his phone and said, “Mr. Xu, you’ve got a message.”
Noticing the assistant’s difficulty, Xu Sinian thanked him and took the phone.
“……”
The people nearby saw the usually expressionless Xu’s eyes shift slightly. He then raised his head and said, “I need to step out for a moment.”
With his long legs, he quickly walked away, heading toward the set’s main gate.
Curious, the people around turned to the assistant and asked, “What’s going on?”
The assistant didn’t know either—he was just a messenger.
——No idea, but he figured he could investigate further.
A few of them tried to sneak a peek, but they quickly realized he had already disappeared from sight.
It was already dark. The film set was located near an industrial park still under development, and at this hour, the streets were mostly empty.
When Xu Sinian exited the gate, he didn’t immediately see anyone until he heard voices and noticed a familiar figure with pink hair among a group of security guards.
The person who was supposed to be far across town, gaming with friends, saw him too, waved, and quickly walked down the steps.
He descended the stairs the same way he had that day at the overpass.
Xu Sinian reached out to steady him and asked, “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long. It was easy to find this place.”
The pink-haired guy smiled and held up a box. “I brought you a perfectly baked cake.”
Xu Sinian glanced down and took the box, asking, “Weren’t you going to play games with your friends tonight?”
“I wanted you to try the freshly baked cake.”
“You’re more important,” the pink-haired guy said with a smile, tearing open the sealed box with one hand while looking up. “So, I postponed the game.”
His clear voice rang out, sounding as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The light from the streetlamp reflected in his pale gray eyes beneath his pink hair, and the smile in his eyes was bright and dazzling.
For a moment, the evening breeze seemed to still.
I vote for XS being the ML!!!