In the first World Invitational, the Chinese team lived up to expectations and returned victorious. The phrase “world champion” briefly set off a wave of enthusiasm for esports within the population, and naturally deepened interest in the national team.
As a result, many firms fixed their sights on this piece of fatty meat that was the esports circle. Businesses, ranging from those that sold everyday items to those that sold luxury goods, sought out brand ambassadors one after another from the national team—especially the good-looking players—and pledged any and all costs to milk them dry for their star effect.
Now, as you walked along any random road, you could see billboards that featured the great Gunner King dressed in high-end menswear and exuding the sex appeal of buried passion from head to toe; cultured Captain Yu, smiling gently and holding an exquisite fountain pen; and Su Mucheng in casual everyday wear as she nibbled leisurely on a duck neck, Su Mucheng in cool summer clothes as she scooped and ate ice cream, plus Su Mucheng in team uniform as she sat in the training room and cracked melon seeds...
That’s right, if you were interviewing random old gramps and grannies in Hangzhou and asked them “who is Su Mucheng?”, they probably wouldn’t be able to tell you that she was the captain of Happy, nor would they understand what “Number One Launcher” meant, but they’d definitely promote her with excitement: “That young lady's so pretty, she’s like a flower when she smiles—and with such a good appetite too, she’ll eat anything and isn’t picky about food! I heard that people in her line of work can also make a lot of money, I’ve got to have my boy find a girl like her. How wonderful, what a blessing it is to eat!”
Yep, that’s right: thanks to her own attractiveness and her astonishing number of food endorsements and ads, the goddess of the Alliance had become the benchmark for a daughter-in-law in the eyes of venerable seniors. From another perspective, one could regard this as advancing esports awareness among the masses, worthy of celebration...
When Chu Yunxiu, who was planning to take advantage of her time after training ended to binge-watch, saw the pro player chat once again discussing the new lollipop commercial that Su Mucheng had taken on, she finally couldn’t bear it and flew into a rage. She picked up her cell phone and called her friend, furiously saying, “Mumu, what about your worth what about your dignity what about your pride?”
“Ah?” Su Mucheng was clearly befuddled. She felt that the latest ships she and Yunxiu were shipping shouldn’t be at odds, so what was the matter?
And so Queen Yunxiu recounted her thoughts in full, from start to finish, on “Su Mucheng’s frequent acceptance of all sorts of snack ads and her rejection of other luxury good ads appeared beneath her dignity and was very strange”—clear and orderly, well-organized and coherent, intense in feeling.
“Xiuxiu, when you compare famous watches, purses, clothes, and cosmetics to snacks that you can eat anytime, which has the better price-performance ratio?” Su Mucheng lightly tossed out this question, and turned round to tear open a bag of green-tea-flavored melon seeds that was some company’s newly arrived tribute, triumph concealed deep in her smile.
That’s right, it was this simple. The goddess of the Alliance, who seemed like a celestial maiden in the eyes of outsiders, was in reality just a foodie at heart who wanted to eat snacks anytime and anywhere. Essentially, she wasn’t all that different from a voracious kitten.
Young Mo Fan, who had been ordered by the captain in a liberal abuse of authority to come move a box of sliced fried bread, secretly cursed in his heart: thus is it told that those who say little are rich in psychological drama.
When Mo Fan carried up the sliced fried bread, Su Mucheng was cracking melon seeds. She saw him coming over and greeted him right away. “Student Mo, you’ve worked hard! It’s fine to just put it there. Ah, have some chocolate as your reward.” Then, without so much as a by your leave, she stuffed a piece of dark chocolate into his hand. Her smile made Mo Fan feel as if he’d been favored by a fresh spring breeze.
“Thanks.” Mo Fan quietly walked away. He didn’t know at all what Su Mucheng was thinking inside in that instant—a Xiao Mo who’s willing to be fed is really too cute!
Her heart wholly satisfied, Su Mucheng diligently continued with her replay of their last game against Tiny Herb. The scene was quite moving, if one were to overlook the melon seeds in her hands.
Actually, the origin of Su Mucheng’s foodie habit couldn’t be helped. At that time, Su Muqiu was still alive; the three of them, brother and sister plus Ye Xiu, lived in a small rented room. Although they couldn’t eat that well, at the very least they could guarantee themselves three meals a day.
Su Mucheng didn’t complain much. She passed her days thoughtlessly; when school was in session, she could eat in the cafeteria, and when school was on break, she’d eat instant noodles with her brothers. Every once in a while, the discovery of two ham sausages in her noodles would be her greatest joy. But Su Muqiu wasn’t reconciled to this. “My little sister’s still growing! Eating instant noodles all day long won’t help her grow, we have to improve our meals!” After Ye Xiu heard this, he looked at the Mao-faced bills in his wallet which could be counted on one hand; he felt deep down that this plan wasn’t very feasible, but when he thought of the innocent, lovable, pretty Mucheng, he still agreed in the end. All right, let’s eat well as many days as we can.
Hence, on their family dining table, Su Mucheng could see braised beef instant noodles turning into braised beef on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, stewed chicken and mushroom instant noodles turning into chicken and mushroom stew on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and then any random dish on Sunday.
Su Mucheng knew that this had only come about from them cutting down on expenses in order to care for her. Their family was already hard pressed for money, and was now undoubtedly even more in the red.
As a result, Su Mucheng no longer bought any snacks to eat before school started and after it let out. Throughout her three years of high school, she didn’t even once buy the cheapest spicy meat strips; nor did she mooch off her classmates, for she was afraid that she’d have to return the favor. The only snack she did eat was ice cream from the ice cream shop, which her older brother and Ye Xiu bought specially for her with money they earned.
When these matters of the past were brought up once again, Su Muqiu had already been asleep in Nanshan Cemetery for four years. Ye Xiu could only pat her head as he listened, and turned round to buy an ice cream for her from that shop.
And so, no matter how often he heard people ridiculing Su Mucheng’s love of snacks later on, he just smiled, but would never stop her.
Everyone said that the captain’s style determined the team’s style. This saying really wasn’t wrong; if you didn’t believe it, just look at Happy.
Thanks to the fact that its captain was the very model of a foodie, its team members naturally wouldn’t be treated unfairly. Who was Su Mucheng? The goddess of the Alliance! As a goddess, she should prosper all-around—so not only could she eat, but she also excelled at it. Since her debut in Season 4, she had followed Excellent Era everywhere in her homeland on both sides of the Yangtze River—Hangzhou, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Kunming, Beijing, Tianjin, Qingdao, Xi’an—and had also eaten everywhere on both sides of the Yangtze River. This had trained her ability to pinpoint every kind of tasty budget snack bar whenever they went to whichever city, like a GPS. As a result, snacks indirectly influenced Team Happy. Every time they played a game, you’d find them in snack bars amidst the city streets and alleys with unerring accuracy.
On one occasion, during the regular season, Happy had an away game against Wind Howl. When they were playing the team round, Su Mucheng shouted in the team channel: “Once we’re done with this match I’ll take you all out for soup buns!” Who would’ve thought that once Captain Su issued such a rousing call to action, Steamed Bun would rise to the occasion and respond directly in the public channel, creating an uproar: “No one can block me! MY BUNS!”
Tang Hao was dumbfounded at the time. Bun? Aren’t you the bun? Or is this a secret signal? He was still thinking over this when Steamed Bun blinded him with a Sand Toss. After he recovered his sight, he just stared blankly at his screen filled with:
Fuck! So they’ve already started talking about what they’re gonna eat! Tang Hao was very unhappy that day.
In the end, Happy still triumphed. After that game, Happy added a new tactic: trash talk.
This trash talk was unlike that of a certain man surnamed Huang. Happy’s trash talk was more nourishing, its substance more single-minded, its nature more pleasurable for observers, such that Zhang Jiale said bitterly after one game: “Damn Happy! Now whenever I play against them I end up getting hungry! Happy trash, they’ve made me eat at least two more meals a day!”
As expected, Happy really is a marvelous team. So wrote Chang Xian.