Chapter 1235: MESSING WITH THE WRONG TEAM
Chapter 1235: MESSING WITH THE WRONG TEAM
"YES, he's my uncle," Shen Ji Yun answered, voice flat.
The reporters paused. They'd clearly expected denials or some politician-like evasion. Too bad for them—Shen Ji Yun had never cared about playing along with people's expectations.
For a split second, Luo Yan almost cracked a smile at Shen Ji Yun's response. But the irritation toward these nosy reporters quickly smothered that impulse, leaving his expression carefully blank.
That brief silence after Shen Ji Yun's answer was all the confirmation they needed. The reporters' eyes lit up like they'd struck gold. Now armed with their ammunition, they unleashed a barrage of questions without mercy.
"Now that you've confirmed you're Moonlight Media's CEO's nephew, did this relationship give team Yunyue any advantages in this tournament?"
"Did your uncle's position at Moonlight Media provide your team with special resources or information other teams didn't get?"
"Were any Moonlight Media staff influenced to treat your team differently because of your family connection?"
"How do you respond to possible concerns that your win today might be due to nepotism rather than pure skill?"
"Can you guarantee Moonlight Media didn't interfere in this season's matches to help your team?"
The moment the questions started, Luo Jin's jaw clenched so tight his teeth audibly ground together. His hands balled into fists on the table, shoulders tensed like he was seconds from lunging at the reporters.
Beside him, Su Yuqi's lips curled into a cold sneer, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
Bai Ze actually pushed his chair back, legs scraping against the floor as he started to rise, when Shen Ji Yun's hand snapped out, clamping down on his wrist with enough force to stop him.
Luo Yan understood exactly why they were pissed. These reporters were basically spitting on all their hard work, acting like they'd cheated their way to victory. As if they hadn't virtually bled and sweat for this win. As if all the preparation and practice they did meant nothing.
Luo Yan was still figuring out how to turn the tables, how to make these vultures look like the bad guys while painting their team as the wronged party, when Shen Ji Yun spoke.
"Every match played in Arcadia is recorded in public logs—every move, every skill, every result. If you think Moonlight Media altered those logs, then you don't understand how game systems work. Those records are encrypted and verified the moment a match ends. Changing them would require rewriting the entire tournament history, and anyone with basic programming knowledge would spot the inconsistency immediately."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "And if you're suggesting my uncle fed us information, then you clearly don't know him. He's the kind of man who would disqualify any team if he caught even a hint of cheating. It wouldn't matter if that team was led by his nephew. Accuse him of rigging matches without proof, and I promise you, Moonlight's legal team will take that as libel."
A beat of silence filled the air.
"We won because we were prepared, because we worked hard, and because we had the ability to back it up. Nothing more, nothing less."
Pride swelled in Luo Yan's chest as he listened. Shen Ji Yun had shut down those reporters with his usual no-nonsense tone, the kind that left no room for argument without making the other person look like an idiot. For a wild second, Luo Yan almost blurted out right then and there that this incredible man was his boyfriend.
He caught himself just in time. There was something more important to handle first. His gaze flicked to the reporters. And then he started to act.
Luo Yan's eyelashes fluttered slightly as he lowered his gaze, his lips pressing into a fragile line. The lights caught the faint sheen of unshed tears in his eyes, making them glisten like shattered glass. His fingers trembled just visibly where they rested against the table.
His beauty amplified the effect—the delicate curve of his jaw tense with suppressed emotion, his throat bobbing as if swallowing down hurt. When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost fragile, but it was heard perfectly in the silence that filled the room.
"I... I didn't realize our hard work would be seen this way."
A single tear escaped—just one, trailing down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away, as if ashamed. The sight was devastatingly pretty, the kind of vulnerability that made bystanders instinctively want to protect him.
"I guess... no matter how many times we win, it'll never be our victory to some people."
His breath hitched, just enough to be audible.
"Maybe we should've just... lost. Would that have made you happier?"
He did not wait for anyone to respond. The moment those words left his mouth, he pushed back his chair and rushed out of the lounge. His hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, loud enough that there was no mistaking his distress.
Behind him, the sound of Bai Ze yelling at the reporters mixed with Luo Jin's sharper, more biting remarks. The loud scraping of multiple chairs against the floor made it clear the rest of the team had stood up, likely to chase after him.
Luo Yan kept running until he reached the parking lot, where plenty of people still lingered after the finals. He made sure that they would get a clear look at him. He let a couple of tears escaped which he wiped away roughly. It's the perfect picture of someone trying to stay strong but failing.
Every movement, every hitched breath, was carefully calculated. The people would see it all and draw their own conclusions about why he was so upset. Let them think what they wanted. The important thing was they saw his reaction and remembered it.
He almost chuckled to himself. If this got posted online—and it definitely would—those reporters were in for a world of hurt. Thank god for his face; this whole white lotus act wouldn't have worked if he didn't look the part.
Already, he could imagine the internet's reaction. Those vultures had messed with the wrong team. Let them enjoy their well-earned backlash.