Broken heart
1964 Words
Yetao slumped back against his pillows, the game download complete. His finger hovered over the icon—a stylized fox silhouette against a backdrop of cherry blossoms and lightning.
"Let's see what all the fuss is about," he muttered, tapping the screen.
The game booted with surprising speed, the screen fading to black before vibrant colors burst forth in an animated swirl of mystical symbols and flowing characters.
"Welcome to LOVE BEYOND TIME."
The words appeared in elegant, shimmering gold script against a midnight blue background.
"Choose your character and path. Unravel the mystery with the person you chose and acquire the demon's heart, save the world from the ending boss."
A smaller text appeared below:
"Please choose your character wisely. Once chosen, it cannot be changed."
Yetao snorted. "Very dramatic."
A carousel of elaborately designed characters appeared on screen, each more flamboyant than the last. He swiped through them with growing disbelief.
"What are these flashy characters? Their design is good, but they all possess some cringey skills." He read the character descriptions with increasing incredulity. "Love Bow? Heart Sword? Seducing Flute? Isn't this just an otome game?"
He sighed, continuing to swipe through the character selection. Most games had dozens of character options, but this one seemed particularly extensive. Just as he was about to give up and pick at random, a familiar shape caught his eye.
"A fox spirit?" Yetao exclaimed, immediately tapping to enlarge the character profile.
The fox spirit was delicately rendered—small and sleek with silvery-white fur that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow. Nine tails flowed behind it like liquid moonlight. Unlike the other characters with their over-the-top expressions, the fox spirit's golden eyes held a quiet intelligence, almost melancholic in its intensity.
"They at least have this cute character," Yetao said approvingly. Then his eyes fell to the skill description: Sacrifice.
"But what's with this skill? Sacrifice? Isn't a fox generally said to possess seduction skills?" He frowned, genuinely confused by the design choice. "Who am I going to sacrifice here? Who would choose such a character with a lousy skill?"
He pouted, momentarily put off, before his natural competitiveness kicked in.
"Whatever... I'm confident I'll complete this game with any character." A smile tugged at his lips as he addressed the fox spirit on the screen. "Don't worry baby, Daddy will choose you no matter what."
His finger pressed the 'Select' button, and the screen momentarily went dark. Then, inexplicably, it flickered, as if struggling to maintain power. A new message appeared:
Update required to enter the Immortal realm. Time required: 24 hours. Game set to automatic update.
"What?" Yetao stared in disbelief. "Are they kidding me? Isn't this just a strategy to gain more engagement?"
Frustration boiled over as he tossed his tablet onto the bed. "It was my fault for falling into such an obvious marketing strategy," he sighed, deciding to call it a night. Whatever mysteries the game held would have to wait until tomorrow.
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Morning arrived with sunshine filtering through half-closed blinds, casting golden stripes across Yetao's sleeping face. He groaned, stretching like a cat before remembering the events of yesterday. The game. The ridiculous update timer.
Whylucas was already up, as usual, preparing their things for training.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," Whylucas teased, throwing a clean t-shirt at Yetao's head. "You're actually up without me having to drag you out of bed. Progress!"
Yetao mumbled something unintelligible in response, still not quite awake as he mechanically went through his morning routine. Neither of them mentioned the game from last night. Whylucas probably thought Yetao had forgotten all about it—a passing curiosity and nothing more.
They made their way to the training building, discussing the day's schedule when a familiar figure ahead made them both freeze in their tracks.
"Oscar?" Whylucas shouted in surprise.
The man turned, his perfectly styled hair shifting slightly in the breeze. When he spotted them, a warm smile spread across his face as he waved.
Yetao felt as if concrete had been poured into his shoes. His entire body stiffened, heart hammering against his ribcage. Without acknowledging Oscar's greeting, he walked past him and joined the other trainees, deliberately giving Oscar and Lucas some space.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Oscar's smile falter for just a fraction of a second before returning to its camera-ready perfection. Lucas, ever perceptive, caught the subtle exchange.
"Leave him be, Oscar," Lucas said, his voice deliberately light. "He was just hurt by what you said." He quickly changed topics. "Anyway, to what occasion do we owe meeting such a rising star?"
Oscar's practiced smile never wavered. "I'm your guest mentor this week. I won't show mercy to even you. So be prepared."
"Uwu... so scawwyyy," Lucas teased, earning a playful flick to his forehead. The tension eased, if only superficially.
Inside the training room, Oscar wasted no time in taking command. He ordered the trainees into lines and led them through warm-ups before beginning individual assessments. He gave detailed feedback to each trainee—some complimentary, others brutally honest—until finally, it was Yetao's turn.
Yetao stepped forward, face carefully arranged into a neutral expression. Throughout his entire routine, he deliberately looked anywhere but at Oscar—fixing his gaze on the wall, the ceiling, the floor, even the other trainees. His movements were flawless, each transition executed with precision that could only come from thousands of hours of practice.
When he finished, he stood still, waiting for feedback. Oscar's expression had darkened.
"Again," he demanded, voice clipped.
Confused but determined not to show weakness, Yetao repeated the routine. Again, his performance was technically perfect.
"Again."
By the eighth repetition, Yetao's knees threatened to buckle beneath him. Sweat poured down his face, his chest heaving with exertion. Yet still, he refused to meet Oscar's gaze.
"Stop it, Oscar!" Whylucas's voice cut through the tension like a knife.
Lucas stepped forward, positioning himself slightly between Oscar and Yetao. "I don't see any problem with his performance. I think keeping your personal disputes away from the training session would be appreciated," he said firmly, barely concealing his fury.
Oscar's professional facade cracked. "Hah, I'm not taking this personally though? He's looking anywhere except his audience. How can he capture fans if he's just dancing there?" He gestured dismissively. "This isn't a talent show. You're all going to be idols."
Yetao, pushed beyond his emotional limits, rolled his eyes in frustration. "Fine, I'll look at my AUDIENCE this time," he snapped, emphasizing the word with such force that everyone in the room understood the subtext: you're nothing more than that to me.
Oscar's fist clenched at his side.
Yetao took his position once more and began the routine. This time, he locked his eyes directly on Oscar's, his gaze unwavering except during turns. The intensity of his stare contained years of hurt, confusion, anger—and beneath it all, the remnants of something that had once been adoration.
For five minutes, neither broke the connection. Oscar, who had started out looking challenging, gradually became transfixed. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in what could only be described as awe as he watched Yetao move with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.
When Yetao finished, chest heaving from exertion, a small, genuine smile had replaced Oscar's professional mask.
"I believe I completed your demand, Mr. Audience," Yetao said between heavy breaths. "So, can I take my leave now?"
The smile vanished from Oscar's face as quickly as it had appeared. "Next," he called, already turning toward the other trainees.
As the session continued, Yetao felt the walls closing in. The room that had always been his sanctuary now felt like a prison, with Oscar's presence suffocating him from all sides.
"Lu, I'll go get some air on the terrace," he whispered to Lucas before slipping out of the room.
Lucas nodded, concern evident in his eyes. After a moment's hesitation, he also left, heading to the convenience store to get Yetao an energy drink.
Oscar, watching them both leave, called for a break and followed Yetao.
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The terrace was Yetao's favorite spot in the entire building—a small oasis six stories above the busy streets of Beijing. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as he sat on the swing, trying to calm his racing heart. The city sprawled before him, a maze of lights and shadows that somehow made his own problems seem smaller in comparison.
"What's your problem, Taotao? Why are you avoiding me?"
Oscar's voice shattered his moment of peace. Yetao flinched, not having heard the door open.
"Excuse me? Why did you follow me, Mr. Audience? Are you a stalker?" Yetao shot back, eyes narrowing as he turned to face his former friend.
Something in Oscar snapped. He strode forward, grabbing Yetao's wrists with enough force to make him wince.
"See? This is your problem. Why don't you act normal?" Oscar's voice rose with each word. "Do you want my attention that bad?"
Yetao gaped at him, momentarily speechless before hot anger surged through his veins.
"Look who's delusional! Why do I need your attention?" He yanked his hands free. "Aren't you the one who came here to mentor us? Why aren't you doing your duty instead of lurking around me?"
"Exactly, why did you think I came here?" Oscar's voice dropped dangerously low. "You're purposely avoiding me. You're being normal to others and avoiding only me. Of course that bothers me."
"Why shouldn't I avoid you when you're the one who wanted me to do so?" Yetao's voice cracked slightly. "I'm doing my job perfectly, and you're hindering that by keeping putting obstacles in my way. If you would kindly move aside, I'll be on my way then. Thank you."
He attempted to push past Oscar, but the older man caught his arm, yanking him back. Before Yetao could react, Oscar's hand was on his chin, forcing him to look up.
"I'm telling you, Taotao. I can only handle so much of your whining," Oscar hissed, their faces inches apart. "I said that a year ago. Now, I'm here, aren't I? Why can't you greet me normally like Lucas?"
Something inside Yetao broke. Hot tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
At the time, Lucas had returned and was now frozen at the top of the stairs, energy drink clutched in his hand. He hesitated, caught between intervening and giving them privacy. Concern for Yetao won out, and he remained, prepared to step in if needed.
"You think I should be like a puppet for you?" Yetao's voice rose, tears now streaming freely down his face. "You left me since fans started to ship us, fine. But what about telling me 'don't contact me'? Would the fans hack your phone and find that we still kept in touch? No... you just hated the fact that I'm being clingy, don't you?"
Oscar's expression softened at the sight of Yetao's tears. "Taotao, listen to me. It's not like that. I... I'm sorry about that, OK? Please don't cry."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "It just felt like... our lives could be ruined if we interact more."
"In which part did I ruin you?" Yetao demanded. "Does me acting like a girl bother you too?"
"You loved me, Yetao!" Oscar shouted, the words hanging in the air like a thunderclap.
Time seemed to stop. Yetao froze, feeling as if he'd been doused in ice water. Behind the door, Lucas went equally still, his knuckles white around the energy drink.
"So... you knew?" Yetao finally whispered, his voice small and fragile.
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- Writer
