Damn competitive spirit, comforting Xiao Chi is up to you

Zhao Yuhao froze mid-action, standing dumbfounded in front of the urinal.

It was glaringly obvious.

He had no idea how to respond to Lin Yu’s sudden remark.

After a pause of several seconds, he finally managed:

“Well, even I need to use the bathroom sometimes.”

“Has Little Chi gone to meet up with the others yet?”

Lin Yu stepped up to the urinal next to Zhao Yuhao, chatting while relieving himself:

“Yeah, already there.”

“Who’d have thought our university’s anime club and Pingchuan Normal University’s anime club would be such bitter rivals!”

“Vice President, what’s their performance lineup today? Singing or otaku dance?”

The program list had been announced long ago.

Rumor had it they’d even invited several well-known Bilibili UP hosts.

From both the music and dance sections.

Otherwise,

so many young people wouldn’t have traveled here from out of town.

Know thy enemy, know thyself—victory is assured.

Though they’d never won before, Zhao Yuhao had still done his homework.

He answered earnestly:

“Pingchuan Normal’s anime club registered two performances: a dance and an anime song.”

“Among all the universities in Pingchuan, their club has the most members—twice as many as ours!”

“Not only do they have their own band, but they also have a dedicated dance team!”

“The anime song they’re performing is from Evangelion—‘The Cruel Angel’s Thesis.’”

“And the dance is ‘Yong Chun’ by Seven Flowers.”

Zhao Yuhao rattled off the details like an automated response.

Yet he didn’t miss a single crucial piece of intel, laying out the key points for Lin Yu.

Though the performances had been finalized and publicized long ago,

no one could’ve known them this thoroughly without deliberate research.

Just from this alone,

it was clear Zhao Yuhao had put in the effort.

Then,

he added:

“The girl talking to Little Chi earlier is the organizational officer of their club.”

“She’s been throwing down the gauntlet on social media for a while now. When the two meet, some verbal sparring is inevitable.”

Lin Yu could relate to that.

He even suspected that if he hadn’t been there,

the two might’ve exchanged even harsher words.

Having an audience definitely limited the girls’ full potential.

“Vice President, why didn’t you cosplay a character this time?”

“When it comes to passion for anime, you’re no less dedicated than anyone else!”

Lin Yu asked curiously.

His words carried no malice.

In the cosplay community, looks aren’t the most important factor.

(Lin Yu: Or so the rumors say… maybe… supposedly… well, people keep saying it…)

On video platforms, you often see folks who aren’t conventionally attractive

cosplaying various characters out of love for the medium.

The comments for them are usually overflowing with kindness and acceptance.

Little did he know,

these individuals were the rare brave few.

That atmosphere of supportive comments

only came after enduring waves of ridicule—a belated “consolation prize.”

Lin Yu’s question reeked of an outsider’s naivety.

Zhao Yuhao didn’t feel offended.

What really got under his skin was…

Zhao Yuhao’s side: “…(silence)”

Lin Yu’s side: “Splish-splash-splish-splash…”

Both men had unzipped and started their business at nearly the same time.

Zhao Yuhao finished after a brief moment, but Lin Yu kept going.

Splish-splash-splish-splash…

To the point where

his damn competitive spirit flared up again.

Since Lin Yu probably wasn’t paying attention to the sound effects anyway,

Zhao Yuhao stayed put, pretending he wasn’t done, and maintained high-pressure output.

At the same time, he answered Lin Yu’s earlier question with brutal honesty:

“How could someone with a 90% match rate to Kaneki Ken ever understand us normies?”

“Lin Yu, which anime character do you think I resemble?”

Hearing this, Lin Yu instantly realized he’d crossed a line.

But now that the question was posed, he couldn’t just ignore it.

He studied the vice president’s face carefully…

Hmm…

Lin Yu: “Cosplaying doesn’t require looking exactly like the character, right?”

Zhao Yuhao neither agreed nor disagreed.

He continued, lost in his own thoughts:

“Ever since elementary school, I’ve had a nickname—Yajirobe!”

“You know, the guy from Dragon Ball who carried Goku up the tower.”

Lin Yu: “!!!”

Now that he mentioned it!

Before this, Lin Yu couldn’t associate Zhao Yuhao’s face with any anime character.

But the moment “Yajirobe”—that long-forgotten name—surfaced,

the vice president’s image was forever cemented!

The resemblance was uncanny, undeniable!

Ignoring Lin Yu’s stunned expression, Zhao Yuhao instead focused on…

Lin Yu: “Splish-splash-splish-splash…”

Zhao Yuhao: “…”

Was this guy’s bladder a damn water tank?!

Like he hadn’t peed in three days!

Zhao Yuhao quickly changed the subject:

“Now you get it, right? When people come to a con,”

“do you think they’d rather see Kaneki Ken or Yajirobe?”

Lin Yu didn’t argue, but he didn’t agree either.

Times were different.

Maybe things were as Zhao Yuhao said now.

But years later, the era would belong to the absurd and unhinged.

Kaneki Ken might not even hold a candle to Yajirobe’s meme potential.

It’s just that Brother Hao was born too early.

Nowadays, acting abstract would get you labeled a lunatic.

A few years later? You’d be a “trendsetter in madness.”

Watching Lin Yu shudder and shake off before zipping up,

Zhao Yuhao finally exhaled in relief.

He stepped back from the urinal, his expression somber:

“Lin Yu, forget all this…”

“You should focus on comforting Little Chi later.”

“Of everyone today, she’ll be the most heartbroken.”

“The whole club knows how much effort and thought she poured into prepping for today’s exhibition and battle.”

Lin Yu had a rough idea but played dumb:

“Comfort Little Chi? What do you mean?”

Zhao Yuhao washed his hands at the sink, adjusting his black-framed glasses.

His gaze turned profound as he stared at his reflection:

“I ran into our lead singer, Xiao Lie, in the break room earlier.”

“Bad news—he’s been running a fever since last night, and his voice is completely shot.”

“He kept thinking he’d recover in time… so he didn’t tell any of us.”

“This morning… he still couldn’t bring himself to say it. By now, he’s probably apologized to everyone in the break room.”

“As vice president, it’s my fault too. But when it comes to comforting Little Chi… you’re the better fit.”

Zhao Yuhao’s heart ached.

How he wished the person consoling Little Chi could be the man in the mirror!

…

(First update of the day. More chapters coming soon—stay tuned! Your support is much appreciated!)