Mix team base.
Sitting in front of the only lit computer on the first floor, Mo Huaifeng looked at the news that the friend application was rejected, and the corners of his lips curled into an unpleasant arc.
The yogurt bottle in his hand was slightly deformed, he threw it away, and the bottle hit the red heart in the trash can.
"Hey, are you in a bad mood?" The young man with the chicken head on his head came out of the bathroom, and squinted his eyes to see this scene. He asked casually, then walked into the kitchen shaking his big pants, took out two bottles of ice water from the refrigerator, and put one bottle on Mo Huaifeng's table.
Mo Huaifeng twisted the cap, and his Adam's apple rolled a few times. After taking two mouthfuls of ice water, the irritability in my heart was not so strong.
The young man, A Xiao, the jungler of the Mix team, yawned. He glanced at his captain's computer from the corner of his eye, and all his sleepiness disappeared in a flash.
"I'll go, who is this? It's flying like six."
A Xiao whistled at the screen, and in a blink of an eye, he saw Mo Huaifeng staring at him expressionlessly, and suddenly understood that his captain was probably on the verge of anger at this time, and there was a half chance that he would become a punching bag.
As a result, his sitting posture became honest, like a kindergarten student sitting in a row waiting for the teacher to praise him. Rolling his eyes back and forth, he changed the subject in a sarcastic way: "Captain got up very early today."
Mo Huaifeng let out a sarcasm: "It's just you who think it's early."
"..."
I can't talk today.
A Xiao's brows were pleasing to the eye, like a bullied little daughter-in-law.
Perhaps because of his conscience, Mo Huaifeng frowned when he saw A Xiao's slightly red and swollen left wrist, "Another crime?"
Alert lifted.
A Xiao breathed a sigh of relief, nodded and said, "Yesterday's training was a bit long, and the swelling didn't go away after spraying medicine at night, until I woke up with pain just now."
After saying this, he frowned again, looking a little frustrated: "Captain, to be honest, my hand...may not be able to hold on for too long."
"Don't be too pessimistic." Mo Huaifeng said lightly: "The physiotherapist will come to the base in the afternoon, first to see if there is any muscle strain."
"Even if it is muscle strain, it has something to do with my wrist. I remember that when I first came to Mix, I could persist in playing five or three rounds for more than ten hours in a row. Now, I practiced by myself, and I couldn't persist for less than ten hours. Living."
A Xiao looked at his wrist in silence, and smiled wryly, "Although it's normal for professional players to have periods of depression, my condition has declined too quickly. I've reached this level in almost a year."
"Before, I was reluctant to go to the hospital to take a film. I felt that once the hand injury was confirmed, I would have to be unable to play professionally for a long time. What's worse, I would not even be able to play in the future. But now, I feel that my state has been exhausted. It's a drag on everyone."
A Xiao's eyes brightened, "Two years ago, Mix was reorganized to prepare for this World League. But in my case, it will drag the whole team back."
It's not that Mo Huaifeng doesn't know what A Xiao said.
But including the mid laner substitute, Mix has six players who have been working together for more than two years, and the level of cooperation has reached maturity, let alone the relationship. Whether in public or private, Mo Huaifeng hoped that the league two years later would be to fight side by side with his brothers.
But now it seems...
Mo Huaifeng rubbed the center of his brows, his thin lips pursed into a straight line, as if in a terrible mood.
"I see. Take some time, you go to the hospital for an examination first."
A Xiao heard that Mo Huaifeng was relieved, half of the burden in his heart was relieved, and he said "um", which was regarded as an agreement.