TCWSITD - Chapter 70

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Chapter 70 – Song Zhixu

“You went back to your hometown?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

Song Zhixu watched the children running through the fields and the mischievous little white dog at his feet insistently darting off to play. He smiled. “Not bad. The air in the countryside is pretty fresh.”

Duren chatted with him casually before bringing up Lin Jiang. “Did you watch the awards ceremony yesterday? Both he and Shen Ju won. You should’ve come.”

Song Zhixu lowered his gaze, then plucked a blade of grass and twirled it against the sky. “You know how my family is. If things don’t go their way, they make a huge fuss. It’s exhausting.”

The other end fell silent for a moment before Duren cautiously asked, “They asked you for money again? You can’t hide it this time?”

“I’ve been on TV already—there’s no way to hide it now. Xiaoshan can’t cover for me either. My stepmother even took my ID. Now she doesn’t believe a word I say. In the end, it all comes down to money.”

This year, OT’s achievements had been too remarkable, and Song Zhixu had contributed significantly. The share he was entitled to wasn’t small, but it hadn’t been paid out yet. It wasn’t in his account, so he couldn’t access it even if he wanted to.

Duren’s voice turned serious. “How much do they want? Listen—figure out a way to get yourself out first. Come back to us, and then we’ll think of a solution together.”

Song Zhixu watched the children running along the ridge, and the little white dog he picked up jumping around him. His tone sounded lighthearted. “A million.”

Duren nearly spat out his coffee. “A million?! What does she need that much for?”

Song Zhixu earnestly counted on his fingers for him: “Tuition—150,000 a year per person. Living expenses—top tier, of course. Then tutoring fees, which are even more expensive than tuition. Oh, and I need to buy my little sister a piano. If she quits dancing, at least the piano’s a backup. And that’s just this year. I still have to support them through college. Next year, the price goes up—I’ll need 1.2 million…”

“Alright, alright,” Duren interrupted, growing increasingly exasperated. “Does she think you’re a bank? That you can just pull out money whenever? What about you? What do you think?”

Song Zhixu smiled carelessly. “I don’t have that kind of money to give them. If they want money, I don’t have it. If they want my life, they can take it. Worst case, we all die together.”

The line fell silent for a long time before Duren spoke again, his tone grave. “You’re not alone anymore. Even if you don’t think about yourself, think about us, okay? Lin Jiang put so much effort into training you. He played over a thousand matches with you. You finally made it and won a world championship. If you quit now, how disappointed do you think he’d be?”

No matter the situation, Lin Jiang was always Song Zhixu’s soft spot.

He was still smiling, but his eyes slowly reddened.

The laughter of children running along the field ridges drifted into his ears. A little white dog stumbled over and nuzzled against his feet. His phone, clutched tightly in his palm, grew burning hot. His voice was hoarse as he asked, “Has Lin Jiang asked about me?”

Duren hesitated. “He’s been busy with Shen Ju lately. Probably hasn’t had time to think about you.”

Song Zhixu laughed again. Suddenly, he remembered the day he returned home, eager to show Lin Jiang the little white dog he’d found by the roadside. But the first notification that popped up on his phone was Lin Jiang’s livestream, publicly announcing Shen Ju as his boyfriend.

He didn’t know when they had started, nor did he understand why while he was still chasing after him, the finish line had already disappeared.

Perhaps people’s starting points were determined the moment they’re born.

The little white dog rubbed against his ankle. He crouched down and patted its small head despondently. “Old Du, I might not renew my contract with OT next year.”

Duren was baffled. “Why? I already told the boss to give you a raise. If this is about your family, I can even help you take legal action.”

“It’s not about my family. It’s about me.” Song Zhixu picked up the little dog and walked home against the wind. “Anyone can be OT’s top laner. It doesn’t have to be me. I want to see what else is out there, to see what I’m really worth. If there’s still a chance in the future, I’ll return to OT…”

And prove to Lin Jiang that he, too, could stand on his own.

Duren fell silent for a moment before suddenly exploding. “I don’t agree! What the hell are you thinking, Song Zhixu? If you leave now, the fans will tear you apart! If you really want to say this, go tell Lin Jiang yourself. If you have the guts, tell him! I sure don’t have the guts!”

“Old Du…”

“Don’t call me. I won’t care about you anymore!”

After hanging up, Song Zhixu took several deep breaths and searched for Lin Jiang’s number. Even though he had it memorized by heart, his trembling fingers kept dialing wrong before finally getting through.

“Ring— Ring—”

Those brief seconds felt like an eternity as countless thoughts raced through Song Zhixu’s mind. He hugged the little white dog tightly, trying to summon some courage.

“Hello?”

“Captain, it’s me.”

“Song Zhixu, what’s wrong?”

Lin Jiang sounded busy. The rapid clacking of keyboard keys was audible through the phone. Song Zhixu hesitated. “Are you busy right now?”

“Hmm… not too bad. What’s up?”

Lin Jiang was always like this. No matter how busy he was, he’d always make time to listen attentively whenever they needed him.

Song Zhixu gripped the phone, his palm sweating. “I… I’m really short on money lately. Desperately short.”

“Do you need to borrow some? How much?”

“No, I mean… I won’t be renewing with OT next year. I might sign with another team. They’re offering more…”

The typing on the other end abruptly stopped. The silence was deafening. For the first time, Song Zhixu felt genuine fear facing Lin Jiang. He crouched uneasily on the field ridge, clutching the little dog. “Lin Jiang? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Lin Jiang set aside his work, removing his glasses and placing them on the desk. “Song Zhixu, you don’t spend recklessly and you have no bad habits. At most, you top up some game credits. I can’t imagine why you’d be this desperate for money unless it’s family-related. You’re at a crucial point in your career right now. There’s still so much I haven’t taught you. Are you really willing to throw all that away for money? If you leave now with shaky foundations, you might just be a flash in the pan, making quick cash that won’t last. Everyone needs to take responsibility for their own life. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“And have you forgotten what I told you when we visited Xiao Shan? What you lack isn’t skill. It’s courage. Whether in competitions or daily life, I can teach you the former, but the latter… that’s something you have to find within yourself…”

Song Zhixu nodded, his eyes reddening. “I know.”

He wiped his sleeve across his face. “I thought you’d yell at me. Old Du just gave me an earful.”

“Serves you right. After all the worry he’s poured into you, you’d just walk away like that? Aren’t you afraid of breaking his heart?”

“I know… I deserve the scolding…” Stroking the little dog, Song Zhixu asked with feigned nonchalance, “Lin Jiang… when did you and Shen Ju start?”

“Since when did you become so nosy?” Lin Jiang’s tone lightened. “Before Worlds, probably.”

“That early? And you didn’t give us even a hint?” Song Zhixu’s laugh sounded more like a sob. “Why… why did you only lie to me about having a girlfriend? Why not him?”

“Come on, you know Shen Ju’s personality. He digs until he finds the truth. There’s no hiding anything from him.”

Song Zhixu muffled the microphone, struggling to contain his emotions as Lin Jiang continued. “That’s just how he is. You’ve seen how he plays. Even with his hands in that condition, he’d secretly practice behind our backs. When he wants something, who could possibly stop him? If you had even half of his determination, you might achieve what he has.”

Shen Ju had always carried that unshakable confidence, something he was born with, a privilege granted by heaven itself.

Yet he himself would need to rely on his own strength for ten, maybe twenty years to possibly overcome the inferiority complex instilled by his family and catch up to that kind of all-or-nothing courage.

Song Zhixu tightly covered the microphone, waiting for his emotions to settle before daring to respond with a simple “Mm,” afraid that even a fraction of his surging feelings might leak through.

It was too distant. Lin Jiang was truly too far beyond his reach. A height he could never attain even in a lifetime. That’s why he had never dared to hope from the very beginning.

But when he learned that Lin Jiang had accepted Shen Ju, he didn’t know how to describe it. Suddenly, an overwhelming sorrow crashed over him. Only then did he realize that Lin Jiang could, in fact, be caught up to. The tragedy was that he himself hadn’t even dared to muster the courage to try.

After hanging up the phone, Song Zhixu walked along the field ridges for over two hours before his emotions finally calmed.

Returning home, he saw his younger siblings playing in the yard, back from their holiday in the city. His stepmother handed them two bright red apples, polished clean. “I bought these especially for you. It’s so expensive! Only got two, so eat them yourselves, don’t share them outside.”

His sister glanced at them and tossed them onto the table. “Don’t want them.”

“Hey, you little rascal…”

Song Zhixu looked at them—this family, who wouldn’t even spare an apple for him. He didn’t know what he still had to remember or care about here.

He strode into the yard. His stepmother gave him a quick glance and hustled his younger brother and sister back to their rooms. “Zhixu, you’re back! How did your meeting with your boss go? How much of a raise did you get? I heard a champion like you should be making at least a million a year. Take on more ads while you still can…”

Song Zhixu sat down and picked up the apple his sister had tossed aside. “How much a piece?”

His stepmother was still somewhat polite with him. “Hard to buy around here. Your dad specially went to the county town. Big ones like this are 15 each.”

Song Zhixu almost laughed. “You ask me for a million, but you can’t even spare a 15-yuan apple for me?”

His stepmother froze, then immediately covered her face and began to cry. “Your dad and I don’t eat them either! They’re for your brother and sister. They’re still growing.”

“Still growing?” Song Zhixu slammed the table. “When I was in my teens, you gave me 300 a month for living expenses. Why didn’t you say I was still growing then?”

His stepmother was too frightened to answer. His father, hearing the outburst, came forward and slapped him. “How dare you speak to your mother like that! Back then, the family was poor—we had to make sacrifices for you. Now things are better, and we can’t let your younger siblings suffer! What right do you have to feel wronged? Your mother treats you like her own son!”

Song Zhixu looked at the apple on the table, then at his so-called father and stepmother, and laughed bitterly. “Are you sure you still see me as your son? My mother’s compensation of 80,000 yuan came through long ago. You didn’t spend a single cent on me, but you’ve been more than generous with those two little bastards.”

Before he could even finish speaking, another slap came his way, the sound startling the neighbors who all began criticizing Song Zhixu for being unreasonable, coming home only to compete with his younger siblings for attention.

His father grabbed a stick, but Song Zhixu didn’t fight back. Instead, he said fiercely, “Go ahead, break my hands. Then I won’t have to send you money for the rest of my life!”

Those words instantly silenced them. His stepmother quickly grabbed the stick, putting on another act of maternal kindness met with filial ingratitude, prompting the entire village to point fingers at Song Zhixu: “You’re so ungrateful!”

In the past, Song Zhixu had cared deeply about their words. But after meeting Lin Jiang, he suddenly found he didn’t care as much anymore.

Shoes on one’s feet, only the wearer knows if they fit. If wearing them was painful, it’s better to just throw them away and walk one’s own path.

Without another word, Song Zhixu went straight into the house, rummaged through the cabinets, and retrieved his ID card hidden in a secret compartment. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and left.

Of course, his stepmother couldn’t let him leave. She sat on the ground, grabbing his backpack, crying and shouting, “Come and see this heartless child! I raised him, and now that he’s making money, he’s abandoning me! Judge for yourselves. After all these years, I treated him like my own son—who would have thought he’d turn into a white-eyed wolf¹…”

They pulled on his clothes, so he took them off. They grabbed his backpack, so he left it behind. Clutching his ID card, he was determined to leave.

Villagers from the surrounding area ran over to watch the spectacle. Even the old village chief arrived, accompanied by seven or eight elders, intending to lecture him.

Song Zhixu said only one thing: “I have no obligation to raise my younger siblings.”

Technically, his parents were still alive, so it wasn’t his responsibility. The village chief said, “But you should support your parents.”

“So tell me then,” Song Zhixu asked, “how much should I give them each month?”

The village chief did some calculations. “Your stepmother isn’t related to you by blood, so you only need to support your father. The village’s minimum standard is 800 a month. Since you’re doing well now, you should at least give 1,000.”

Song Zhixu nodded, then pulled up his transfer records, evidence he’d kept at Duren’s suggestion. “Over the past five years, I’ve sent home 970,000. Subtracting the 60,000 for their retirement, that leaves 910,000. From now on, I’ll deduct from this. Once it’s gone, they can come back to me. Fair enough?”

At this calculation, his stepmother’s face changed. “That’s not how it works! I raised him. Everything he earns should be mine.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd. They had assumed Song Zhixu was as terrible as his family claimed, but hearing he’d earned a million in five years made everyone envious.

The old village chief said gravely. “This is Old Song’s fault. Your son’s success is something to celebrate. Even if his mother is gone, shouldn’t you, as his father, be happy for him? He’s given you so much money. How can you still be unsatisfied, always crying to me about how he doesn’t support you? Besides, you’re still able-bodied. It’s not yet time for him to support you. Even if this went to court, you’d have no case.”

This left Song Zhixu’s father red-faced, but his stepmother refused to back down. “This is our family’s business! In my house, what my children earn belongs to me. No one, not even the heavens, can change that!”

She thought she was in the right, but after speaking, all the neighbors began to criticize her, pointing out her faults. Enraged, she started arguing with them again, then tugged at Song Zhixu’s sleeve. “Ask yourself, haven’t I treated you well? Haven’t I loved you like my own son?”

Song Zhixu couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore. “Everyone here has watched me grow up. They know what kind of life I had as a child and what my younger siblings had. Just compare the two.”

The aunt next door had seen Song Zhixu grow up. When he was young and had no money for food, she had often taken him in for meals. “After Old Song’s family got a new wife, who cared about the son from his previous wife? They were rarely home, leaving Zhixu so hungry he had to come to my place to eat.”

At this, many people remembered and started chattering, comparing how Song Zhixu’s life had been far from humane.

Thinking of these things made Song Zhixu’s heart ache. Suppressing his emotions, he said, “If the family was truly poor, I wouldn’t complain. But you had the means and still treated me like this, yet you expect me to take care of you in your old age? Love goes both ways. How you treated me in the past is how I’ll treat you now. Starting today, I won’t send you another cent. If you want to keep making a scene, then let’s go to court. We’ll settle the accounts. Every penny I’ve sent home over the years, even my mother’s compensation—let’s see how much you owe me.”

Without waiting for anyone’s reaction, he stooped to pick up his backpack, dusted it off, pulled his hat low, and strode away, leaving the crowd staring after him.

The chaos behind him raged on. His stepmother wailed in the yard, neighbors jabbered all at once with their endless opinions, and the old village chief’s voice tried to pierce through it all: “Enough now. This is the consequence of your own actions—he’s not to blame…”

The moment he stepped out of the courtyard, the weight in his heart finally lifted.

Lin Jiang had been wrong, actually. What he had taught him wasn’t just how to take initiative on the battlefield—he’d also given him the courage to resist reality.

From now on, he would no longer hesitate. If he wanted something, he would fight for it.

Behind him, his father’s furious voice rang out. “You ungrateful son! Once you leave this yard, don’t ever come back!”

For a moment, Song Zhixu wondered: If he had truly succumbed to fate and become worthless, would they have still wanted him around? More likely, they’d have swept him out with a broom.

He laughed bitterly and pulled his hat lower.

There was nothing left to miss.

That place had never been his home.

He had merely stayed there as a guest for over a decade. Now that the dream was over and the path ahead was clear, he would keep moving forward without ever looking back.

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