TCWSITD – Chapter 52.2

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Chapter 52.2 – Training Match

As night fell, Lin Jiang’s heart sank with it—weighed down by anxiety and helplessness crashing in together. He smoked two cigarettes before calming down. When he returned to the training room and saw their low spirits, it felt like another stab to the heart.

For the first time, he lost his temper with them. “It’s not even 10 PM yet, and this is the state you’re in? Do you still want to continue the rest of the training?”

Zhou Wen didn’t dare utter a word. He tugged at A’Deng, who in turn pulled Song Zhixu. One by one, they took off their headphones, looking at him with confusion and fear.

“I write training plans, study strategies for you every day, and haven’t slept well in ages—and this is how you repay me?”

“What’s the big deal about not having training matches? Have you forgotten that before we won the Summer Split, they didn’t give us training matches either? And we still took the title.”

“Them looking down on us is their problem. What we need to show is our own attitude.”

“We don’t know them, and they know even less about us. We’ve barely played any matches together. Let them study us if they want. Even without training matches, I dare say they’ll be the ones at a disadvantage.”

Lin Jiang had this kind of confidence—he could say such things, and strangely, no one doubted the truth of his words.

Everyone present felt a surge of motivation. The atmosphere in the training room heated up in an instant. Not only the players, but even the staff perked up.

But that wasn’t all. Lin Jiang went to Duren again and explained his idea.

After hearing it, Duren looked stunned. “You want to team up with the other three clubs and build a joint training system?”

Lin Jiang gave a short nod. “Li Qian should take the lead as head coach. He’s spent the most time in Korea, so his assistance will be more effective. As for the other teams, they can join if they’re willing. If not, we won’t force them. But I still hope you can try to persuade them.This is something that will benefit everyone.”

Duren nodded and immediately set to work.

Out of the three teams, two agreed on the spot. The person in charge of TG even said that he had been thinking the same thing himself. Things started to go smoothly, and the training system began to improve continuously.

When netizens caught wind of this, it sparked a wave of anti-Korean sentiment, pushing the World Championship’s popularity to unprecedented heights.

SNG, who had been on the fence, quickly joined in upon seeing the hype.

The training system was officially completed.

When this news reached Korea, their netizens immediately treated it as a joke.

To them, the LPL’s united training camp was nothing more than desperation, a last-ditch effort from a region under pressure. The forums lit up with sarcasm:

[I think this is ridiculous.]

[Let me tell you a joke: the LPL’s special training team.]

[All I can say is, we’ve hit a nerve. They’re just putting up a front.]

[river doesn’t have the dominance he had in those two years.]

[Just wait and see—it’s nothing but a joke.]

When the news made its way back to China, it sparked widespread outrage. Fans grabbed their keyboards, climbed over the firewall, and flamed the Korean forums so hard their own mothers wouldn’t recognize them.

At first, LCK netizens didn’t take it seriously. But as a flood of unfamiliar IPs swarmed in and completely overran the forums, they finally realized the severity and spent their days frantically reporting the invaders.

OT was now in closed training, completely unaware of what was going on outside.

Aside from daily practice, Lin Jiang now had an additional task: duo-queueing with Zhang Mingying.

Zhang’s ability to read the map and predict plays was nothing short of genius. Once he made a move, victory was almost guaranteed. After a few days of duo-queueing, even Lin Jiang couldn’t help but envy his natural talent.

Unfortunately, Lin Jiang couldn’t rein him in. During their matches, he often felt like Zhang Mingying’s plays were too erratic, and their win-rate wasn’t particularly high.

Their last match ended in a crushing defeat, completely outplayed by the enemy mid-jungle duo. After the game, Lin Jiang was utterly drained. “Let’s just take a break for now.”

Zhang Mingying refused to accept it. “I don’t think they’re that good. If we rematch, we’ll definitely win.”

Right, right. He never thought anyone was good. But this was a team game. No matter how strong an individual was, it could still be a double-edged sword.

Later, Lin Jiang quietly reviewed the replays by himself, sighing again and again.

Just then, Duren called him into the office again. Apparently, another issue had arisen.

As it turned out, the enemy mid-jungle duo in their last match was none other than the mid-jungle pair from Korea’s third-seed team, known as the “Twin Tyrants,” who had swept through many LCK teams.

They happened to be streaming at the time, so OT’s jungle duo losing to them quickly spread throughout the LCK. Now, the entire internet was mocking the LPL’s first seed for failing against LCK’s third seed, and the news had already reached the LPL.

Lin Jiang didn’t even need to check — he could already imagine the online backlash. He rubbed his neck anxiously. “Can we do some damage control?”

Duren gave a bitter smile. “I talked to the PR department, but they said the timing is too sensitive. Silence is the best response. So, I need you to keep an eye on Zhang Mingying.”

Trouble didn’t come alone—it never did. Lin Jiang felt like the LCK was deliberately targeting them. Even after all these years, long after he’d lost his former dominance, he could still sense the hostility from the LCK.

They still hadn’t let go of what happened during those two years.

Lin Jiang wasn’t one to back down either. He didn’t mind making them even more afraid. Returning to the training room, he invited Zhang Mingying to duo again.

“You said earlier—if we run into them again, what would happen?”

Zhang Mingying immediately perked up. “We’d definitely beat them.”

Without another word, Lin Jiang queued up.

In high-ranked matches, it was easy for opposing duos to clash. After just two games, Lin Jiang and Zhang Mingying ran into the same pair again.

The tension was palpable. Lin Jiang locked in LeBlanc and Zhang Mingying picked Jarvan IV—it was clear both of them were ready to go all out.

On the other side, the livestream chat erupted into chaos. The “Twin Tyrants” duo continued taunting over voice chat. “We’d love to experience the mid-jungle prowess of LPL’s first seed team—too bad they don’t seem to want to show it.”

“Mhm, yeah. Not quite what we expected, honestly.”

It wasn’t just Korean viewers watching—plenty of Chinese fans had also climbed over the firewall to spectate. Some even translated the comments back to domestic forums.

Chinese netizens were about to explode with rage.

“Lin Jiang, for the love of god—destroy them!”

As both teams entered the game, Zhang Mingying immediately invaded the enemy jungle at the start, making everyone gasp.

After all, this was just a casual game, not a pro match. The opponents hadn’t caught on yet—by the time they realized, all they could do was mutter frustrated curses.

“They seem to have changed their playstyle.”

“Indeed, but their style isn’t very professional.”

Meanwhile, Korean fans watching online were feeling pretty confident. They dismissed Zhang Mingying as just a wild card, sneering that his plays wouldn’t hold up in a real pro setting.

The next second, Lin Jiang executed a double dash combo to eliminate their mid laner.

The screen was flooded with Korean text occupying the high ground, all question marks, occasionally mixed with a few Chinese-style pinyin “HAHAHA.” The opponent quickly excused himself: “That was my carelessness, not their skill.”

Just as they regained some dignity, Lin Jiang completed his first major item and rotated to take out their bot lane.

The viewers in the livestream began cursing, and the “Twin Tyrant” also cursed a few times with “ā xī ba.¹“Ah, shibal,” – a curse word in Korean”

But nothing could stop Lin Jiang’s ruthless domination of their mid lane. As a high-level LeBlanc player, Lin Jiang rarely met his match in lane, let alone against a mere third-seed team.

In that game, Lin Jiang repeatedly dashed into their faces with merciless aggression, completely dismantling the enemy’s rhythm.

Now the Korean audience couldn’t sit still, berating their streamers for poor awareness. Although Chinese viewers couldn’t understand the language, the opponent’s grim expressions spoke volumes.

Lin Jiang had vented their frustrations for everyone. The two opponents no longer dared to boast, playing with extreme caution. Just as they barely stabilized the game, Zhang Mingying pulled off a bizarre engage, dragging them right back into trouble.

The opponent finally lost composure and ranted: “Who plays like this? This goes completely against professional logic…”

Yet it was precisely this unconventional approach that kept pushing them further into defeat.

Domestic viewers were thoroughly entertained. They’d previously mocked OT for “collecting scraps,” never expecting Zhang Mingying to have some tricks up his sleeve, daring to engage first even when at a disadvantage.

Lin Jiang ultimately secured victory, their win even more decisive than the opponents’ previous game. This match served as Zhang Mingying’s proper debut before the audience.

[Never heard of him, but he’s got guts.]

[Not bad at all. Willing to engage, perfect to cover A’Deng’s weaknesses.]

[From now on, OT will have two sets of strategies as a team.]

[I was really worried before, but now I feel much better.]

[Let’s go OT!]

[Charge forward for Worlds!]

Scoring a victory before the official battle even began greatly boosted LPL’s morale.

After the match, countless netizens flooded OT’s official account, all asking about Zhang Mingying’s. Public opinion gradually shifted in OT’s favor, completely erasing the previous negative impact.

Now, at last, OT could prepare for Worlds without distractions.

During this time, the official account also released a freshly-made promo video for the Worlds expedition. Lin Jiang, as the central figure, once again exploded in popularity.

Many new fans didn’t know much about Lin Jiang until they saw this promotional video, which highlighted his four World Championship appearances and two championship wins. Witnessing his past glory, they quickly became fans.

[This reignited my long-lost memories.]

[Even I, who didn’t play games back then, heard about this!]

[Wow, the era when he dominated the league is still fresh in my mind.]

[Just realized Lin Jiang has never missed a Worlds!]

[My youth is back!]

As the hype grew, data showed that Lin Jiang’s two championship skins saw another surge in sales.

Lin Jiang was both amused and exasperated. OT had never actively pushed for publicity, yet lately they were all over the internet, unintentionally turning into a full-blown marketing machine. The whole team was on edge from the attention.

Amid the busy training period, the World Championship officially kicked off.

It started with the play-in stage. The top three seeded teams from LPL didn’t need to participate—only the fourth-seed team, SNG, had to fly to Korea ten days early to compete in the play-ins.

In his downtime, Lin Jiang would watch the games with his teammates. On paper, play-in matches were a breeze for major regions—SNG should’ve had no trouble, but no one anticipated just how hard they’d have to fight to qualify.

Meanwhile, Korea’s fourth seed breezed through their matches without breaking a sweat.

It was as if the pride Lin Jiang had just earned for the LPL was immediately thrown away by SNG, dealing a heavy blow to the region’s morale.

[Wasn’t this year’s LPL supposed to be strong?]

[The other regions are already mocking us.]

[SNG shouldn’t be playing like this. They might be our fourth seed, but in my mind, they’ve always played at a top-three level.]

[Their form is just awful.]

[SNG is underperforming, and OT’s never played Worlds before… this is looking like a GG.”

[It’s over, it’s over. I’m starting to worry about the other three teams.]

Once the results of the play-in stage were out, everyone was in a state of unease.

At this point, OT was also getting ready to head to Korea for the tournament. Everyone had complicated feelings—part excitement, part nerves.

Because it was their first international event, Lin Jiang was quite lenient with them. He would chat casually with them whenever he had time, and no matter how strange the questions were, he would patiently answer them. In a way, it helped ease their anxiety.

Li Qian also tried to lighten the mood, though his methods were… unique. He had a habit of playfully slapping his teammates’ butts mid-conversation.

Song Zhixu was his favorite target. Every time it happened, Song Zhixu would widen his eyes in shock, looking utterly violated before pitifully complaining to Lin Jiang.

Knowing Li Qian was just messing around, Lin Jiang chuckled and said, “Be a good sport. Consider it a sacrifice for the team.”

Song Zhixu: ?

He really wanted to call the police.

The flight to Seoul went smoothly. Duren had arranged everything including accommodation and meals so they didn’t have to worry about anything.

Lin Jiang had initially been concerned about them adjusting to the local food, but Zhou Wen solved that problem by pulling out two bottles of Lao Gan Ma chili sauce.

The new environment had everyone excited, and even by nightfall, no one was sleepy. They gathered in the room to play cards, but Lin Jiang had his own tasks to attend to. Unfazed by the noise, he focused on his work with his glasses on.

Shen Ju didn’t know how to play cards, so he pulled up a small stool and sat beside Lin Jiang, keeping him company and helping him with the data.

The room was a suite, with the living room separated from the bedroom, so no one outside could see what the two of them were doing.

Shen Ju had missed Lin Jiang terribly. As he watched him, he couldn’t help but lean his head against Lin Jiang’s shoulder, his hands secretly wrapping around him. “Lin Jiang, I missed you so much.”

Lin Jiang had been too busy lately to think about Shen Ju, but no matter how swamped he was, he always made sure to reply to his messages, never leaving his affections unacknowledged.

Without hesitation, Lin Jiang turned his head and kissed Shen Ju lightly before returning to his data. “Be good, I missed you too.”

Shen Ju didn’t believe him. Feeling a little dejected, he leaned against him, watching the blue glow of the screen reflect off his glasses, casting a mesmerizing shimmer. His mind began to wander.

Why did it feel like Lin Jiang loved these dull numbers more than him?

No, he couldn’t let himself fall out of favor.

He nuzzled against Lin Jiang’s neck, his hands wandering restlessly under his clothes, each touch accompanied by a careful study of Lin Jiang’s expression, searching for any reaction.

At first, Lin Jiang paid him no mind. But when Shen Ju’s fingers brushed against his chest, Lin Jiang’s breath hitched, and he abruptly grabbed his wrist. “Puppy Shen, stop touching me like that.”

Shen Ju hadn’t expected that spot to be so sensitive. Testing the waters, he touched it again, watching Lin Jiang curiously. “Lin Jiang, your ears are so red.”

Dealing with a disobedient puppy required a firm hand. Lin Jiang yanked off his glasses, uncaring of how many people were outside, pulled Shen Ju’s hand away, and bit down hard just to scare him. “Keep touching me, and I’ll bite it off.”

But instead of deterring him, the bite only made Shen Ju’s breathing grow heavier. Like some kind of pervert, he slipped his fingers into Lin Jiang’s mouth. “C-Can you bite me again?”

Lin Jiang couldn’t bring himself to actually bite him. What he did was more like holding Shen Ju’s fingers gently between his lips.

Shen Ju felt his heartstrings plucked, his emotions spiraling out of control. Unable to hold back, he stood up, cupped Lin Jiang’s chin, and kissed him deeply.

Outside, the noise continued with laughter and chatter. Inside, warmth and tenderness filled the air.

To keep Shen Ju from acting up further, Lin Jiang interlaced their fingers, hiding them under the table, and worked with one hand.

Shen Ju rested his head on the desk, watching him with a gaze that devoured Lin Jiang whole inside and out. His fingers beneath the table continued to tease restlessly.

Lin Jiang lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. “Stop moving.”

Shen Ju’s breath hitched again. He pressed against the desk, unable to resist asking, “Lin Jiang, are you doing this on purpose? I think you’re seducing me…”

Lin Jiang couldn’t help but smirk. Of course, he was doing it on purpose. Who told this damn puppy to flirt so shamelessly everywhere?

Shen Ju could no longer hold back. Just as he was about to lean in to kiss him, Zhou Wen’s voice suddenly came from outside: “Captain, I brought you milk tea…”

Before Lin Jiang could react, Shen Ju instantly pulled away from him, darting off like a rocket to another spot. He then picked up some documents from the table, pretending to read them with utmost seriousness.

Lin Jiang chuckled again. This damn dog was putting on quite the act.

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  “Ah, shibal,” – a curse word in Korean