Grumpy Esports God Becomes a Wealthy Family’s Stepmom - Chapter 4

WN base.

Zhuo Yin, Zong Zhenghui, and Xiao Xi were all in the training room, each silently focused on their own training.

After last year’s disappointing fall tournament and the sale of the captain’s account this year, they finally realized that they had to leave something behind for the captain. 

The club behind WN had treated them coldly all year, but none of the three had considered leaving because Zhong Lu was WN’s captain. He had led the unknown WN all the way to the world stage. Keeping WN alive, carrying on its legacy—that was their duty.

That way, when people talked about WN, they would remember that Zhong Lu, WN’s first captain, had won a world championship at just nineteen.

No team could take on three contracted pro players at once. A transfer would mean turning teammates into rivals, and burying WN’s legacy forever.

Xiao Xi wouldn’t accept it. Zong Zhenghui wouldn’t accept it. Even the usually calculating Zhuo Yin had given up on the idea.

More than that, they were unwilling to accept being mocked by trolls saying, “WN without Abandon is garbage,” because was that really the truth?

The club saw both WN’s weakness and its potential—feeding off them bit by bit, but hadn’t planned to sell anyone yet. Still, if they didn’t make waves this new season, the transfer table wasn’t far off.

Since Zhong Lu and the coach left, their say in the team had sharply declined. Their newly assigned starting teammate wasn’t gelling well and rumor was, he was a relative of the club’s owner.

Zong Zhenghui pushed his keyboard aside and got up to grab their crayfish delivery, calling Zhuo Yin and Xiao Xi to come eat.

Zhuo Yin turned off his stream. “It’s too hot. Xiao Xi, grab two beers.”

Zong Zhenghui said honestly, “Captain said no alcohol at the base.”

Zhuo Yin paused. “Exactly. Two cans and we’ll drink in secret but you’re not getting any. It’s low-alcohol fruit beer so it’s fine.”

Zong Zhenghui said, “You’re sneaking drinks with Xiao Xi again.”

All three phones buzzed on the couch at once.

The other two had their hands full, so Zong Zhenghui picked one up and glanced at it. His thick brows furrowed. He fiddled with the screen for a bit, then casually put it down, pretending nothing happened but still gave a guilty look toward the others.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Zong Zhenghui shoved a whole crayfish, shell and all, into his mouth.

Zhuo Yin picked up his phone suspiciously. He looked up. “Hui Ge? You transferred money?”

Zong Zhenghui couldn’t lie. He didn’t even get to sneak beer with them, or else the moment Zhong Lu asked, he’d give himself away.

“Yeah, just ten thousand.”

Zhuo Yin was speechless. “So people really fall for the whole ‘I, Qin Shi Huang, send money’ scam?”

Zong Zhenghui defended himself. “But it really sounded like the captain!”

Xiao Xi heard and also grabbed his phone.

Zhuo Yin took his time. “If it’s not a commanding tone, is it even Qin Shi Huang?”

“This person has all three of our phone numbers and knows us well—really well.”

As he spoke, the usual sparkle in his peach-blossom eyes turned sharp and cold, his voice sinking. “Captain’s memorial day is coming up. This isn’t funny.”

Zong Zhenghui had a superstitious streak—he always prayed before matches. His first reaction to the message had been hopeful, wanting it to be real but after Zhuo Yin’s breakdown of it, rationality took over again. He looked like a scolded dog. “It’s really messed up.”

Last year, they shined at the world championship. This year, it was all bleak and miserable. Making a joke on this day—what kind of person would do that?

Zhuo Yin sneered. “A joke? Fine. Let’s go big.”

“Xiao Xi, transfer ten thousand too. Over thirty thousand counts as a major fraud. It’s three to ten years in prison.”

Xiao Xi’s expression darkened. “I’ll send fifty.”

Zhuo Yin said, “That’s unnecessary.”

Zong Zhenghui said nervously, “But what if it really is the captain? The name on the transfer showed ‘Zhong.’”

Zhuo Yin said, “Then we’ll see him at the police station. I’ll apologize in person.”

At the internet café, Zhong Lu stared at the newly received thirty thousand yuan, a wave of guilt hitting him.

If it had just been Zong Zhenghui who transferred the money, he would’ve accepted it but three people and thirty thousand—that could only mean two things:

Either they broke the rules while he was gone, got drunk on crayfish and beer…

Or Zhuo Yin realized Zong Zhenghui had been scammed and wanted to push the amount over the fraud threshold

Zhong Lu looked up scam info online. When he saw that 30k bumped the sentence into a higher bracket, he got it.

How to avoid being charged with fraud?

Legal advice: return the money immediately and it could count as a joke.

Or, don’t return the money, but fulfill the promise, like “I’ll take you to Worlds next year.” That could also be argued in court.

Zhong Lu thought about it. Time was valuable and thirty grand wasn’t worth a trip to the police station.

He transferred all thirty thousand back to Zhuo Yin, with a note: Crayfish and beer = gout sooner or later.

At the WN base.

Zhuo Yin got the message. He stared blankly at the empty beer can in his hand.

What the hell.

He glanced at the front door camera feed, starting to suspect this was some new tactic by the club. The boss hadn’t done anything decent in years so it’s best to stay cautious.

Zhuo Yin hesitated. “Hui Ge, which god do you usually pray to?”

Zong Zhenghui answered, “Guan Gong. Why?”

Zhuo Yin replied, “Well, Guan Gong came through and the money’s been returned.”

Zong Zhenghui exclaimed, “You’re amazing!”

Zhuo Yin nodded coolly, made an excuse to go to the bathroom, and quietly made a call.

Let’s see what this is.

“Ring… ring… ring…”

Call declined. Totally guilty behavior.

Zhuo Yin clicked his phone off and lit a cigarette. This was insane. He must be losing it.

He didn’t even show the message to Zong Zhenghui or Xiao Xi. Just reading it had him reeling. If the two of them saw it, they would probably get scammed out of their underwear.

After Zhong Lu’s death, he left behind an unclaimed inheritance. He had an older brother who was abducted at age three. His will stated that if the brother was found within fifteen years, the entire estate would go to him. Otherwise, it’d be donated to society. This was public knowledge, and many had tried to claim it—some even called the team requesting DNA tests.

The manager sent them all to the Ministry of Public Security database where Zhong family records were on file there. After Zhong Lu’s death, the will had even trended on social media.

Even with that attention, no one had been found. Either the brother had already passed away, or had no idea he’d been abducted.

Some even showed up just vaguely resembling him, insisting they were Zhong Lu’s brother and refusing to leave. It was Zhong Lu’s last wish, so the team reposted it on Weibo now and then.

They’d dealt with so many fakes they’d grown to despise imposters but this was the first time someone pretended to be Zhong Lu himself.

Whether it was someone faking being the brother, or Zhong Lu—every time, every single time, they wished it were real.

Yet every time, they were let down.

Over the past few days, Zhong Lu had leveled his new account into mid-tier rank. Matching with pros was impossible, but streamers? A 100% chance.

When he saw a teammate with the ID “Dianfengshan” (Electric Fan), his brows went cold.

That streamer who sniped Abandon?

Dianfengshan liked to open the team voice and mess around. His voice soon came through the headset, “We’re dropping at the Stone Maze. I’ve been training in close-range fights so get ready for a show.”

“You’re that Electric Fan streamer, right? I know you!”

The two other random teammates were girls. Recognizing the streamer, they played along and praised him.

“No. 3—Lulu—are you a girl too? Turn on your mic, I’ll carry you today,” Dianfengshan said.

Zhong Lu, playing under the ID “Lulu,” gripped his mouse.

He only found out during registration that the original account owner had logged in before—probably trying to bond with Huo Yu—but gave up after two games.

Zhong Lu said nothing. He quietly clicked [Ready].

The game began. They got lucky because almost no one landed at Stone Maze.

“Tch, choosing a drop spot is an art. You three girls give me a compliment and I’ll—what the f—!”

Dianfengshan shrieked. “No. 3, why are you shooting me?! You piece of—”

Zhong Lu landed, emptied a full mag, and confirmed the kill.

An eye for an eye.

He typed in the team chat: [I’ll carry you today.]

Dianfangshan said, “Hey, copying my line? Who the hell are you? You just lit me up—let’s see what you’ve got. Carry us now, huh?”

The gunshots drew in nearby teams. Zhong Lu held a corner in the Stone Maze, listening for footsteps.

Suddenly, he peeked, aimed, fired—took one enemy down. Then he flanked around the maze and headshotted the second enemy trying to revive their teammate.

There was no map, but he knew the maze like the back of his hand. He knew where he stood, how to flank behind, and where to shoot for a perfect kill.

This was Abandon’s domain and not a single bullet wasted.

Dianfangshan muttered, “Trash moves. Let me eat my instant noodles while I watch.”

A slurping sound came through the team voice.

Zhong Lu, still ambushing enemies, typed in chat: [smile emoji]

[Returning this shot for Abandon. Avoid me if you see me.]

[Hi to everyone in the livestream. Search ID: Lulu. Catch my stream next week.]

[Better skills than Dianfangshan.]

You wanted to leech off Abandon’s fame? Bet you didn’t expect to get milked in return.

After a moment, Dianfangshan must’ve finished eating or caught a tip from chat. Realizing he was being used for traffic, he exploded, “Cheating! That’s gotta be a cheat! Typing while killing people? If that’s not a hack, I’ll take your surname! You’re advertising on my stream?!”

Zhong Lu cleared the last enemy in Stone Maze and typed quickly. Before Dianfangshan finished raging, the chat already had a reply.

[Lulu’s stream—come see for yourself if I’m cheating.]

[Don’t take my last name. Got too many dumbass sons already.]

A second later, Dianfangshan’s ID went dark—he’d quit the game.

Couldn’t handle it! Straight-up freeloading! Shamelessly advertising!

Dianfanshang was so mad he forgot to keep up the act. He was used to leeching attention but now someone even bolder had shown up!

As his spectator view ended, the stream’s viewer count dropped sharply. He imagined all those people searching for Lulu’s stream and almost coughed up blood.

When Zhong Lu saw Dianfangshan’s ID, he had already registered a Douyou streaming account on his phone.

He posted an update: What, people can’t game and type at the same time? Do streamers only know how to talk?

Replies came in quickly.

【So badass. Love it.】

【Love seeing shameless streamers get crushed.】

【Always hated Electric Fan. Bullying a kid using Abandon’s account? Lucky that kid’s forgiving.】

【He who snipes will be sniped.】

【I miss the way Abandon used to roast trolls. Streamers like Electric Fan wouldn’t have dared squeak back then.】

【+1. Lulu kind of reminds me of Abandon.】

Zhong Lu scrolled through the replies, watching his follower count slowly rise, with a rare relaxed smile on his face.

If the setup were better, today would’ve been the perfect day to stream.

At 6:30, someone took the seat beside Zhong Lu as usual.

Ye Xianyun looked like he had just gotten off work, carrying a backpack. He sat down, and his phone immediately rang. He glanced at Zhong Lu, saw he was fully focused with headphones on, not even glancing his way, and picked up the call.

“Hello? Mom, didn’t I already send this month’s living expenses?” Ye Xianyun’s tone cooled, voice low.

His mother’s voice was a little sharp. “Can’t a mom call her son for no reason? You’re the older brother—your little brother misses you.”

The phone was passed. A boy’s voice, still rough from puberty, eagerly said, “The teacher said we can’t have summer tutoring, so we have to buy tablets for online classes.”

Ye Xianyun replied softly, “I’ll send you mine tomorrow.”

“That won’t work, Ge. Homeroom said we need the school-issued model because it have course materials. It’s ¥7700.”

Ye Xianyun frowned. “What kind of tablet costs that much?”

Ye Leyun said, “I dunno. The teacher said if we don’t buy it, we can’t attend class. Fall behind, and we’ll get put in the remedial group.”

Ye Xianyun blinked. He wanted to say that his little brother was already in the remedial group. He spent every holiday goofing off. Even if he got the tablet, would he actually study?

Yet as the older brother, he had to give his little brother the best shot at education, no matter what.

“I’ll get it for you the day after tomorrow. Study hard and play less.”

Zhong Lu adjusted his headset slightly.

“I will!” Ye Leyun was excited, voice loud like a duck, and quickly added, “ Ge, I went to play soccer with friends and they all wore Adidas. I want a pair too.”

Ye Xianyun said, “Okay.”

He ended the call and looked back at Zhong Lu’s screen. He felt like this gamer was hard to approach—face always cold, no joy even after winning but for some reason, he really wanted to be friends.

Maybe people crave what they lack.

Zhong Lu turned up the game volume.

It was 6:30. He hadn’t eaten properly all day. He pulled out his phone to order food.

Someone nudged his arm. He turned to see Ye Xianyun pulling two lunchboxes from his bag, smiling. “Wanna eat together?”

Zhong Lu: … 

He didn’t really get why someone would offer food to a stranger. He was about to say no, but Ye Xianyun opened a box. The smell of minced pork with eggplant and stir-fried razor clams hit him. This wasn’t a cheap pre-packed takeout. This was real home cooking, made in a big wok.

“I made it at the cafeteria after work. It should taste okay.”

Not just okay, it was amazing.

Since his rebirth, Zhong Lu had been scrimping. Even his meat buns were stolen by Huo Yu. He was hungrier now than the morning he first woke up.

Even kids know not to accept food from strangers. Zhong Lu asked, “Why?”

What—did he look like someone who ordered takeout a lot and got targeted?

“Cooking one serving or two makes no difference. You’re probably always at this café gaming. Takeout isn’t good. I come here often too so I’ll bring extra next time.”

“Are you a chef?”

“No, I’m a designer. Our cafeteria lady’s really nice. Let me borrow the wok at night.”

Zhong Lu knew he shouldn’t open up so easily, but couldn’t help asking, “Are you sleeping here like yesterday? Not going home?”

He could nap in a mansion after gaming all night, but Ye Xianyun had work in the morning. Sleeping in a chair like this long-term would ruin his neck.

Ye Xianyun answered easily, “Had a fight with my boyfriend. Don’t wanna go back.”

Zhong Lu paused. Though same-sex marriage was legal now, he’d always focused on esports and never paid attention. Everyone at the base was a straight guy so this gave him a surprising “gay people walk among us?” moment.

“I’ll pay for the food.”

Ye Xianyun probably didn’t have much—he sent money home every month and had other expenses. If he was giving ¥7700 later, that meant he didn’t have it on hand. He was probably living at his boyfriend’s place so it must be why he wasn’t going home now.

Zhong Lu didn’t have much either, but he wasn’t about to eat for free.

Even if, technically, he needed money to stream.

“Sure. Pick one.”

Zhong Lu took one. The finely minced pork steamed with eggplant was fragrant and tender, perfectly paired with fluffy white rice. Each bite made him hungrier.

He was a good guy, Zhong Lu thought. This was the model of a kind, gentle stepmom.

“Add me on WeChat.”

Could be useful in an emergency.