Esports world champion, debuted as the center of a talent show

After Jiang Zhiyu finished speaking, he lowered his head, his fingers unconsciously picking at a corner of the draft paper, recalling the dull pain of the knife cutting his skin on those nights in previous years.

For Jiang Zhiyu, "mask and true self" is not only a resonance but also an experience.

He couldn't remember when it started, maybe it was some late night when he was awakened by a blood-red nightmare.

Jiang Zhiyu, still a naive young man, lay on his bed in the club's single dormitory, staring at the dark ceiling, his body trembling uncontrollably.

He sat up, clutching his chest and gasping for breath, but he still couldn't shake off the overwhelming feeling of suffocation.

Cold sweat soaked his pajamas, his heart was pounding, his muscles tensed involuntarily, and his fingertips felt numb.

Jiang Zhiyu sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get up, but his legs went weak and he collapsed to the ground.

He curled up on the ground, the chill seeping into his bones through his thin pajamas, as if tearing his soul apart.

Chaotic negative thoughts clung to him like maggots, and intense self-hatred crashed into his brain, shattering all reason.

Why am I still alive?

Why couldn't I save him?

If it weren't for me, he would probably be a big star by now...

I should have been the one to die.

Why wasn't it me who died!

His body was tense to the extreme, his scalp tingled, his temples throbbed with pain, and an uncontrollable despair choked his throat, making it impossible for him to swallow or spit it out.

Jiang Zhiyu instinctively tried to prop himself up, but fell down again, accidentally knocking the items on the table to the ground and hitting his forehead hard on the ground.

A dull pain traveled from his forehead into his brain, bringing him a long-lost sense of clarity.

The bright moonlight shone through the window and fell right in front of him.

There lay a utility knife there.

Jiang Zhiyu stared blankly at the small knife, his mind completely blank.

Before he could react, he had already reached out and grabbed it, holding it tightly in his palm.

Next, he imprisoned his reason in his mind and coldly watched his body grip the blade, mechanically drawing names on his arm.

One cut, two cuts, three cuts...

The incision wasn't deep, but it was enough to send sharp pain to the brain, causing an extreme rift between his body and mind.

Bright red blood beads oozed out and dripped onto the floor.

He lowered his head and kissed his wound, the blood staining the corner of his mouth like a hideous new scar.

But the next day, he arrived at the training room on time as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that he wore a long-sleeved shirt under his short-sleeved team uniform.

At that time, he had just joined RXG and was only a substitute. His daily tasks were to participate in the review of the regular players' training matches and practice shooting and play competitive ranked matches.

Jiang Zhiyu was brought in by Lin Shi, who was the manager of the RXG team, and Lin Shi always took good care of him.

It was precisely because of this that Lin Shi was able to perceive with such keen sensitivity the strangeness that the other party concealed beneath his consistently cold exterior every day.

One afternoon a few weeks later.

Normally, RXG doesn't start training until 2 PM, but Jiang Zhiyu was already sitting in his seat at 1 PM.

He paced back and forth around Jiang Zhiyu's location several times, but the other man's gaze remained fixed on the computer screen, ignoring him completely.

"Zhiyu?" Lin Shi couldn't help but ask.

Jiang Zhiyu did not move.

"Jiang Zhiyu!" he shouted.

Jiang Zhiyu turned his gaze to him, his eyes like a dry well.

"Come out for a moment."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the door.

Jiang Zhiyu paused for a moment before getting up and following.

They stood by the window at the end of the corridor. Lin Shi frowned. "You've been acting very badly lately. What happened?"

Jiang Zhiyu forced a smile: "It's nothing."

Lin Shi looked at him intently, as if peering directly into his soul.

"Are you still having nightmares lately? Or have they gotten worse?"

The boy, who was being questioned, lowered his head, still trying to evade the question: "No, I'm fine..."

Unfortunately, he was just a kid who couldn't lie. Although he said he was fine, his hand was unconsciously pulling down his sleeve.

Lin Shi's gaze immediately fell on his hand. He pulled Jiang Zhiyu's hand away from his stiff movements, ignoring his slight struggle, and rolled up his sleeve.

A scene he had never imagined came into view.

The deep and shallow scratches on his arms were like a net, covering Jiang Zhiyu's fair skin.

Several parts of the wound were still slightly red, indicating that they had been cut recently.

Lin Shi was stunned; he hadn't expected to see such a scene.

The two stood facing each other in silence.

Jiang Zhiyu stood there helplessly, like a child who had made a mistake, overwhelmed by confusion and helplessness.

He was prepared to be questioned and criticized by Lin Shi, but to his surprise, the other party didn't say anything.

Lin Shi sighed, his eyes filled with heartache and pity. He gently squeezed Jiang Zhiyu's slender wrist and tentatively asked, "I'll give you the afternoon off. Come with me to meet a friend, okay?"

Jiang Zhiyu choked up, and after a few seconds of silence, he slowly nodded: "Okay."

The friend Lin Shi mentioned was none other than Shen Jiaping, Jiang Zhiyu's future psychiatric doctor.

Jiang Zhiyu pulled himself out of his chaotic thoughts; the practice room remained completely quiet.

Lin Sen was the first to react; he nodded vigorously, his eyes full of approval.

"This idea is brilliant! The mask and the true self are issues that resonate deeply, and I completely agree."

Qi Sixian pondered for a moment before slowly speaking, "Indeed, I have no objection. I had the inspiration to compose music as soon as this theme came up."

The remaining team members also expressed their opinions, and not one of them objected.

In just a few minutes, it was unanimously approved, and the core concept of the stage was finalized.

Lin Sen naturally took on the responsibility of choreography, Qi Sixian was in charge of composing the music, and Yu Jin assisted him.

There was no conflict in the division of labor; everyone took on tasks based on their own area of ​​expertise.

With the two core tasks finalized, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

But when the topic turned to songwriting, the atmosphere instantly fell silent.

The people present could sing, dance, and compose music; each had their own strengths. However, writing lyrics was a common weakness for all of them.

To fit the theme of "mask and true self," one must not only depict the pretense and repression of the daytime but also the raw reality of the night, while also maintaining a melody, rhythm, and catchy rhyme—a very challenging task.

The remaining people looked at each other, their eyes darting around, and no one took the initiative to speak.

An awkward silence lasted for half a minute.

All eyes turned to Jiang Zhiyu once again.

Jiang Zhiyu met everyone's gazes, let out a soft breath, and said calmly, "I can give it a try."

When creating music, Qianjingchi would always ramble on about music theory and his own creative inspiration. Over time, even this "layman" had no choice but to memorize some of it.

[Jiang Zhiyu can write lyrics?? I remember he wasn't a professional lyricist, does he really know how?]

If you don't know how, don't force yourself to write it... What if you mess it up?

[Uh, you don't need to "worry" about him! Mind your own business! You all questioned him the same way during the first performance! Wasn't that a slap in the face enough?]

I only knew he was good at stage choreography, I didn't know he could also write lyrics? I'm kind of looking forward to it!

This topic has a very profound meaning; it's quite difficult to write a good piece on it. Good luck, Jiang Jiang!