In the Shanghai E-Sports Center where the rain was pouring, the large LED screen was fixed on the score of "2:3". Twenty-three-year-old Lu Chenxing took off his headphones, and the scorching temperature that flashed into the field during the final team battle remained on his fingertips. Amid the sobs in the audience, the slow motion of South Korean player Kim Jae-hoon wiping the trophy burned permanent scars on his retinas. When the five-star red flag curled up into a small ball in the foreign auditorium, Lu Chenxing bumped into the substitute assistant Su Yao holding a medical record book in the exit channel - this girl who always wore a gentle mask was shivering and stuffing the "Carpal Tunnel Syndrome Diagnosis Certificate" into the pocket of her team uniform.
Nine months later, Team Spark, which was forced to disband, reorganized in an Internet cafe in the urban village. Ling Xiao, a talented mid laner with lens phobia, knocked on the door of the training room wearing sunglasses. Ji Ran, the "esports Daji" who was boycotted by many clubs, was squatting at the door teasing stray cats. Top laner Jiang Yu, who had disappeared due to match-fixing accusations, was sinking a faded championship ring into the bottom of a whiskey glass on the second floor. When the support document from the General Administration of Sports arrived at the same time as the mocking video of the South Korean KLG team, Lu Chenxing drew the fifth dragon soul competition plan on the tactical board - this time there were the reflections of 1.4 Billion people behind them.
