Summary: When a quiet moment in a coffee shop places Tong Yao back in Lu Sicheng's line of sight, the tension from their first encounter takes on new weight. Her dissertation—built entirely around studying his strategies—becomes a bridge neither of them expected. But what begins as a confrontation soon shifts into a deeper, more intimate unraveling of her guarded world.
Chapter Two
The soft hum of the city barely reached the quiet corner where Sicheng found himself walking, the late afternoon air crisp with the scent of fresh coffee and faint traces of autumn. He hadn't planned to stop, hadn't even been paying much attention to where his feet were taking him as he moved through the familiar streets, but something—someone—caught his eye, and just like that, his steps halted.
Through the slightly fogged-up glass of a secluded coffee shop, his sharp amber eyes locked onto a figure tucked away near the back, deliberately positioned far from the windows, as if to avoid unnecessary attention.
Her.
Tong Yao sat hunched over her laptop, her platinum silver hair falling softly over one shoulder, the glow of the screen illuminating the delicate contours of her face. A pair of earpods sat snugly in her ears, her fingers moving steadily over the keyboard, entirely focused, entirely unaware of the world around her. There was something about the way she sat—small, hidden—as if she was deliberately making herself smaller, a contrast to the sharp, analytical mind he already knew she possessed.
Sicheng remained outside for a moment, watching. Not in a way that was invasive or predatory, but in a way that acknowledged something undeniably curious curling inside of him. He had met all kinds of people in this industry—players, fans, analysts, strategists—but she? She was different. She wasn't looking for recognition. She wasn't looking for him. And yet, here she was, deeply immersed in her work, completely unaware that the very person whose strategies she had built her dissertation on was now standing just beyond the glass, watching her with a gaze far sharper than she would ever expect.
He exhaled slowly, his breath visible against the cooling air, before making a decision. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, the bell chiming softly overhead as he stepped inside. The scent of coffee wrapped around him, warm and rich, but he barely noticed. His focus was already set. He was going to make sure she saw him this time.
The soft chime of the bell barely registered in the quiet café, but it was enough to draw a few fleeting glances from the baristas behind the counter and the few patrons scattered near the front. Sicheng ignored all of them, his stride purposeful as he crossed the wooden floors with a quiet ease that barely disturbed the peace of the space.
His gaze remained locked onto the farthest corner, where Tong Yao sat, completely oblivious to his presence. Her posture was relaxed but focused, the subtle crease between her brows evidence of deep concentration as her fingers moved fluidly across her laptop's keyboard. The faint hum of her music could just barely be heard from her earpods, and the way she had positioned herself—shoulders slightly hunched, head tilted down—made it clear that she had no intention of being approached.
But Sicheng had never been one to follow unspoken rules. Reaching her table, he paused just beside her chair, his presence looming but silent. He waited, watching the way her eyes flicked across the screen, scanning whatever data she was analyzing, completely unaware of the shadow now cast over her space. And then, with the slow, deliberate patience of a man who knew exactly what effect he had on people, he reached out and tapped the edge of her laptop screen with two fingers—light, but firm.
Yao startled as her breath hitched, her body tensing as her hazel eyes snapped up in immediate reflex, her fingers freezing over the keyboard. The moment she saw him, her entire posture went rigid, a sharp inhale catching in her throat as the soft glow of the screen illuminated her wide, startled gaze.
Sicheng said nothing at first. He simply watched, amber eyes dark and unreadable as he took in her reaction. The way her lips parted slightly in shock. The way her hands curled just a fraction, as if unsure whether to close her laptop or keep holding onto it for dear life. And then, finally, his voice, smooth and low, broke the silence between them. "You ran away the other day."
Yao blinked rapidly, her mouth opening slightly before closing again, her thoughts clearly scrambling to form a coherent response. Her face, already naturally pale, flushed quickly, the color creeping up her neck as she instinctively reached up and tugged at the hem of her sweater sleeve. "I—" She swallowed, her voice softer than before. "I didn't— I mean—"
Sicheng arched a brow, unimpressed with her failed attempt at an excuse. "You did," he corrected, voice calm but unwavering. He leaned forward slightly, resting one hand against the edge of the table, his towering frame casting an unavoidable presence over her seated form. "You muttered something and ran so fast I don't even think you realized you weren't going in the direction of YQCB's base anymore."
Yao shrunk slightly, looking anywhere but at him, the heat in her face unbearable. "I just… didn't want to be there anymore." she muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
"Because of what they said?" Sicheng hummed, tilting his head slightly, studying her.
Yao clenched her fingers into the fabric of her sleeve. She didn't answer immediately, which was answer enough.
Sicheng exhaled, his gaze sharp but lacking the icy edge he had used on Ai Jia and Jinyang three days ago. Instead, there was something else in his eyes, something unreadable but undeniably intent. "You study my plays."
It wasn't a question.
Yao flinched slightly, her lips pressing together as her fingers curled tighter into her sweater.
Sicheng didn't look away. "Your writing your dissertation on my strategies," he continued, voice slow, deliberate. "And you didn't think I'd find out?"
Yao's entire body burned with mortification. "I— It's not—" She bit her lip, her voice faltering. "It's not like that—"
Sicheng's lips quirked slightly. Not a full smirk, but something close, something that sent another wave of heat rushing through Yao's chest, though she couldn't decide if it was from humiliation or something else. "Not like what?" he asked smoothly.
Yao squeezed her eyes shut for half a second before forcing herself to meet his gaze again. "I just… I just wanted to understand the game more," she admitted quietly. "That's it. There wasn't some— some weird plan behind it. I just wanted to learn."
Sicheng let her words settle between them, the silence stretching long enough for her nerves to fray at the edges. And than, "Good." he murmured.
Yao blinked before tilting her head, "Good?" she echoed, confused.
Sicheng's eyes gleamed with something dark, something knowing. "It means you're not just some casual observer," he said, his tone smooth, assured. "You actually understand the game." His gaze flicked to her laptop screen, where a small but detailed data set was displayed, numbers, patterns, predictive models. He recognized the framework immediately. His smirk deepened, slow and deliberate. "And," he added, voice dipping lower, "it means you chose me."
Yao's heart stopped as her breath hitched, her face on fire as she opened her mouth, scrambling for any way to refute what he had just implied but before she could even get a word out, Sicheng reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of her laptop again, the movement light, teasing.
"Finish your work. Then you're going to explain exactly why you thought you could study me without getting caught." he said smoothly, his voice carrying the weight of quiet amusement now. And with that, he straightened, stepping back as if he hadn't just completely wrecked her nerves.
Yao could only stare, completely frozen, as he turned and walked away, leaving behind nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne, the ghost of his touch against her laptop, and the terrifying knowledge that he wasn't done with her yet.
Two days later, the peaceful quiet of the ZGDX base was broken by the unexpected sound of a soft, hesitant knock against the heavy front door. It wasn't the usual sharp rap of a delivery driver or the impatient pounding of a teammate who forgot their key. No, this knock was shy, barely there, as if the person behind it wasn't even sure they wanted to be noticed.
Inside, the team collectively paused.
Yue, lounging on the couch, arched a brow. "That's… new."
Lao K exchanged a glance with Pang, who simply shrugged, already reaching for his phone as if debating whether they were expecting a guest.
Before anyone could move, Rui, ever the efficient manager, was already making his way toward the entrance. There was something in his demeanor that shifted the moment he opened the door, a subtle but unmistakable switch from ZGDX's manager to something much softer. Something much more… motherly. Because standing there, looking small and uncertain, was Tong Yao. She was wearing a simple oversized sweater, her platinum silver hair softly framing her face, her hazel eyes downcast, clearly second-guessing whatever had brought her here in the first place. Rui took one look at her, at the way she clutched the strap of her bag, at the slight nervous sway in her stance, and immediately—immediately—his expression turned gentle.
"Oh, you poor thing," he murmured, already stepping aside. "Come in, come in, no need to stand out there like a lost little rabbit."
Tong Yao startled slightly at the rabbit comment, but before she could process it, she found herself ushered inside with the kind of efficiency only Rui could manage, his presence both warm and inescapable.
The rest of ZGDX barely had time to react before Rui was walking her straight into the common area, his hand a light but guiding pressure against her back. "You should've told me you were coming," he continued, already fussing over her in a way that made it clear she had no escape. "Did you eat? You look like you haven't slept enough. You study too much, don't you? Good grief, a Ph.D. and Gaming Strategic Analysis, no wonder you have those little dark circles—"
"Mr. Rui—" Yao tried to protest weakly, but he was already taking her bag off her shoulder and placing it neatly beside the couch.
The team, watching all of this unfold, sat in stunned silence.
Yue, blinking slowly, leaned toward Sicheng, who was standing motionless, his amber eyes locked onto the scene before him with sharp, unreadable focus. "Did she just—" Yue whispered, tilting his head slightly. "Did she just voluntarily walk into our base?"
Sicheng didn't answer. His jaw had tightened ever so slightly, but his gaze never wavered.
Pang, sitting beside Yue, rubbed his chin. "And Rui's already treating her like some kind of delicate, overworked student he's adopted."
Lao K let out a quiet snort. "She is an overworked student. Rui probably sees her as some lost kitten that needs feeding."
Meanwhile, Rui had already guided Yao to sit down, his fussing nowhere near finished. "I'm making you tea," he announced before she could argue, already heading toward the kitchen. "And don't even try to tell me no, young lady."
Yao, still overwhelmed, sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, her hands pressing into her lap as she felt the weight of multiple gazes on her. Slowly, hesitantly, she peeked up. And found Sicheng staring directly at her. She immediately looked away, her face warming.
A beat of silence passed before Yue, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smirk. "So," he drawled, drawing out the word as he looked between Yao and Sicheng. "What exactly brings you to our humble abode, Ms. Tsinghua?"
Yao swallowed, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sweater. She had no idea how to answer that. Because the truth was. She wasn't entirely sure herself.
The room remained heavy with silence, all eyes on Yao as she sat there, visibly out of place, her hands pressing into her lap as she struggled to find the right words. She could feel the weight of their stares, but the one that affected her most—the one that burned into her—was Sicheng's.
She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching slightly before she finally forced herself to speak. "I…" she started, but her voice barely made it past a whisper. She swallowed again, forcing the words out even as she ducked her head lower, her platinum-silver hair falling forward like a curtain. "I came because of… because of what you said at the coffee shop."
Sicheng remained utterly still, his amber eyes unreadable as he watched her, waiting.
But instead of trying to explain further, instead of struggling to put her thoughts into something coherent, she moved. Reaching down, she hesitated only briefly before slipping her hand into her bag, fingers brushing over the worn edges of it—the very thing she hadn't planned to share, the thing she had been so sure she would keep to herself. But something about the way he had spoken to her that day—something about the way he had seen her, really seen her—had made her reconsider. With a deep, steadying breath, she pulled out a thick stack of neatly bound papers. A rough draft. Her dissertation. And without a word, without daring to meet his gaze, she extended it toward him, her fingers trembling just slightly around the edges.
For a long, stretched moment, Sicheng didn't move. Then, with the same slow deliberation that always made the air around him feel too heavy, he reached forward, his long fingers brushing against hers as he took the document from her hands. His gaze flicked down, scanning the title page. His name wasn't there. But his presence was.
Yao's voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence again. "It's… hard to explain," she admitted, still not looking at him, her fingers twisting into the sleeves of her sweater. "But I— I studied you because you were never the same."
That made Sicheng's eyes snap back up.
She still wasn't looking at him. "You were always adapting," she continued, her voice getting quieter, more uncertain with each word. "You were always changing things. No pattern. No set path. Just…" She trailed off, biting her lip, her shoulders curling inward slightly as she struggled to articulate what had felt so obvious when she was writing it but so impossible to say now. She inhaled shakily before forcing the rest out in a rushed breath. "That's why I chose you." The weight of her admission settled thick in the air. But then, just when she thought she had gotten through it, just when she thought she could stop talking, her mouth moved on its own, and she stammered out the words that sent heat crawling up her neck. "But there are… s-some things you can improve on."
The entire room went dead silent.
Yue let out a quiet cough that suspiciously sounded like he was choking back a laugh.
Ming did laugh, though he quickly disguised it as a low, amused hum as he leaned back in his seat, clearly interested in seeing where this was going.
Lao K just blinked, looking between Yao and Sicheng like he wasn't sure if she had just said something incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
Meanwhile, Sicheng…
Sicheng was just staring at her. His fingers curled slightly around the edges of her draft, his gaze dark, sharp, but unmistakably intrigued. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice smooth, even.
Yao, utterly mortified at herself, ducked her head even further, nodding quickly, her platinum strands covering most of her face now.
A beat passed.
Then—
"Show me."
Her head snapped up, eyes wide, finally meeting his. "W-What?"
Sicheng leaned back slightly, one hand now casually resting on the dissertation as he tilted his head, expression unreadable. "You said I have things to improve on," he mused, his voice deceptively calm. "So show me."
Yao's entire brain short-circuited. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, maybe mild amusement, maybe cold dismissal, maybe even a scoff but this? This was something else entirely. The challenge in his gaze was clear. And somewhere, beneath all of her mortification and shyness, she realized. This was exactly why she had studied him in the first place. Yao swallowed hard, pushing past the nerves threatening to strangle her. If Sicheng was challenging her, she would rise to it. With slightly trembling fingers, she reached forward, flipping through the thick draft of her dissertation, her gaze scanning until she found what she was looking for. Then, with careful precision, she pointed to a section where data on player adaptability had been compiled, her voice soft but steady despite her nerves. "Here," she murmured, stealing a quick glance up at him before immediately lowering her eyes again. "Your flexibility in-game is your strongest trait… b-but sometimes, you still have predictable tendencies when pressed into defensive plays."
A beat of silence followed.
Then, Ming, still lounging comfortably against the back of the couch, let out an approving hum. "You know," he mused, a smirk tugging at his lips, "we could actually use this to win."
Yao's head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering past her nervousness. "Really?" she asked softly, the word carrying the unmistakable weight of someone who had spent so much time behind the screen analyzing data that she had never once considered the impact it could have in real-time.
But before Ming could elaborate, Yue, ever the one to dig for entertainment, cut in with a raised brow. "Hold on," he drawled, arms crossing as he fixed Yao with an interested look. "Did Ai Jia ever ask for your help?"
At the mention of Ai Jia, Yao's fingers twitched slightly against the pages, her shoulders curling inward, and she hesitated just long enough for the entire room to sense there was more to this answer than a simple yes or no. Finally, she nodded, her voice quieter now. "Yes… once."
Yue narrowed his eyes. "And?"
Yao fidgeted, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater as she ducked her head slightly. "I turned him down," she admitted hesitantly. That alone was enough to make them all pause. Ai Jia was notoriously persistent when it came to anything involving competition. If Yao had refused him, then there had to be a reason. And than, her next words dropped like a stone into the middle of the room, sending a ripple of silence through them all. "Because of… Jian Yang."
Everything stilled.
Lao Mao, who had been listening quietly up until this point, sat up straighter. "Jian Yang?" he repeated, his voice carrying the slight edge of someone who had definitely heard that name before. "CK's captain?"
Yao hesitated, shifting in her seat, her hazel eyes darting anywhere but at them. "Mn." she murmured softly, confirming it with a small nod.
The atmosphere in the room shifted. Jian Yang wasn't just any player. He was the Jungler and Captain for CK, a name that carried enough weight in the competitive world that no one took it lightly. And if he was involved, that meant something wasn't adding up.
Lao Mao frowned, leaning forward slightly. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice steady but firm.
Yao hesitated again, visibly struggling with her words. Her fingers twisted into her sleeves as she lowered her gaze, the tips of her ears turning pink with discomfort. "Jian Yang…" she started, her voice faltering slightly before she swallowed and forced herself to continue, "tried to… date me."
Another beat of silence followed, but this one felt heavier.
Yue's brows shot up. "Wait. What?"
Yao pressed her lips together, her hands gripping the fabric of her sweater even tighter. "He…" She inhaled slowly, trying to find the right words, her voice barely above a whisper. "He wanted access to my work. He thought if we—if I—liked him, then maybe I would… s-share it with him."
A long pause.
And then, slowly, the pieces started clicking into place.
Sicheng's jaw tightened, his grip subtly flexing around the edge of the dissertation in his hands. His amber eyes darkened, a shadow passing through them that made the entire room feel colder.
Yao, completely unaware of the brewing storm she had just unleashed, fidgeted more, her voice wavering as she stammered out, "A-Ai Jia is his friend. If I g-gave Ai Jia anything, I know he would hand it over to Jian Yang eventually. I couldn't… I didn't want that."
The room remained silent, but the energy in it shifted dangerously.
Just then, Rui, returning from the kitchen, broke the tension as he gently placed a steaming cup of tea in front of Yao. His hand lingered briefly on her shoulder, the gesture warm and grounding, before he spoke in the calm, firm tone only a mother hen of a manager could use in moments like this. "You did the right thing." he said simply, offering her a small nod of reassurance.
Yao swallowed hard, still not daring to meet anyone's eyes. But the others? Oh, they weren't nearly as composed. Because now, Jian Yang's name was in the mix. And if there was one thing everyone in that room could agree on, it was that Lu Sicheng did not take betrayal lightly.
Pang, who had been quietly absorbing everything up until now, finally spoke up, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic level of curiosity. "Wait… have you always been this shy and introverted?"
The question wasn't meant to be harsh, but Yao still flinched slightly, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of the tea Rui had given her. The heat seeped into her skin, grounding her, but it did little to stop the inevitable rush of embarrassment flooding her face. Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded. "Yes…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. But then, as if realizing that wasn't a full answer, she shifted uncomfortably, tucking her chin down, her platinum silver hair falling forward to shield part of her face. She inhaled deeply, her fingers twitching against the cup, before finally forcing herself to continue. "It's… b-because of my looks," she admitted, voice soft but steady enough to carry through the room. "I'm half Chinese, half English. I wasn't really… accepted by other kids."
Silence settled heavily over the room.
Yao swallowed hard, her gaze still lowered. "I stood out too much," she continued, her voice quieter now, like she was revealing something she had never intended to say out loud. "And I—I was always learning faster than the kids around me. I skipped grades, I tested higher, and that just made it worse. The other kids didn't really want anything to do with me."
"So they just… left you out?" Lao K frowned, his usual casual demeanor replaced by something closer to concern.
Yao hesitated, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Left me out. Made fun of me. Didn't think I belonged anywhere." Her fingers curled tighter around the cup, as if seeking comfort from its warmth. "So I just… stopped trying," she admitted softly. "It was easier to be quiet. To keep to myself. To focus on things I understood instead of people I didn't."
No one spoke right away.
Pang, who had asked the question in the first place, looked almost regretful for prying, like he hadn't expected the answer to be so heavy. Lao Mao exhaled quietly, exchanging a glance with Yue, whose expression had lost all of its usual amusement.
And then there was Sicheng. He hadn't said a word. But the air around him had shifted. His amber eyes, dark and unreadable, remained locked onto her, his grip subtly flexing over the dissertation still resting in his hands. There was something there, something deeper, something sharper, something unspoken. Something dangerous.
Yao, still oblivious to the growing storm that had started brewing around her, ducked her head further, trying to make herself smaller, her voice a soft murmur as she added, "I guess… I just never really learned how to be anything else."
Sicheng's grip on the paper tightened.
Rui, still standing near Yao with an expression that had shifted from gentle reassurance to something far more calculating, suddenly tilted his head. His sharp managerial instincts had clearly latched onto something, something he wasn't about to let go of. "How old are you, Yao?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.
Yao, startled by the sudden shift in conversation, blinked up at him, her hazel eyes flickering with hesitance before she softly uttered, "I just turned twenty…"
That was all Rui needed to hear. Immediately, he turned on his heel, his expression shifting into something dangerously pleased as he directed his full attention onto Sicheng. "You know," Rui started, his tone smooth, purposeful, dangerous, "we're still looking for a Data Analysis Coach for the team… since you fired the last one."
The entire room went still.
Yue, who had been quietly observing, suddenly grinned, fully understanding exactly where Rui was going with this.
Lao K let out a low hum, exchanging a glance with Lao Mao, while Pang openly leaned forward, intrigued.
Meanwhile, Sicheng, who had been quietly absorbing everything, his unreadable amber gaze never once leaving Yao, finally moved. Slowly, deliberately, he placed the thick stack of dissertation papers onto the coffee table, his fingers tapping once against the surface. His expression remained impassive, unreadable, but the intensity in his gaze sharpened as he turned his full attention to Rui. "You think she can handle it?" His voice was smooth, even but the weight behind his words made it clear that this wasn't a dismissal.
It was a consideration.
Rui, clearly prepared for this, shrugged. "She's studying Chessman's plays. Your plays," he pointed out smoothly. "And from what we've seen so far? She's more than qualified. More than qualified."
Yao, who had up until this point been following the conversation with increasing confusion, suddenly stiffened, her fingers tightening around her tea cup as her mind caught up.
Wait.
Wait—
"W-what? What are you talking about?" she stammered, her wide eyes darting between Rui and Sicheng.
Yue, ever entertained by chaos, leaned toward her with a smirk. "He's talking about hiring you, Ms. Tsinghua."
Yao's entire face burned. "H-Hiring me?" she sputtered. "For— for ZGDX?"
Rui, already far too pleased with himself, nodded. "For Data Analysis Coach," he clarified, as if this was the most obvious solution in the world. "You're already studying the game at an elite level. You understand adaptability, strategy, and you have an outside perspective. It's honestly a waste if you don't apply this knowledge to a team that can actually use it."
Yao froze, utterly overwhelmed. "I—I—"
Sicheng, still watching her with that intense, unreadable gaze, leaned back slightly. "Do you want the job?" His voice was low, smooth—direct.
Yao's breath caught as she stared at Sicheng, his question hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on her. It should've been an easy yes or no. But it wasn't. Her fingers tightened around the ceramic cup in her hands, her mind racing as she tried to piece together a response—any response—that wasn't completely incoherent. "I… I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Yue arched a brow. "You don't know?"
Yao swallowed hard, ducking her head slightly as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I—I'm still working on my dissertation," she murmured, her fingers shifting anxiously against the cup's warm surface. "And I have my online work. Plus… I have scheduled meetings with my mentor at the university. It's part of my Ph.D. program."
Silence settled over the room, but it wasn't the kind that carried judgment. It was… considering.
Sicheng remained quiet, his amber gaze steady, sharp, as if weighing her words carefully.
Rui, ever the problem solver, hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Alright, let's break that down," he said, already shifting into his managerial role. "How much time do you spend on your dissertation per week?"
Yao blinked at him, caught off guard. "I—I mean, it depends," she admitted hesitantly. "Some weeks, it's heavier. Others, it's more about analyzing and refining sections I've already written."
Rui nodded. "And the online work?"
Yao fidgeted. "A few hours a week," she murmured. "It's flexible, but I have deadlines."
"And the meetings with your mentor?" Rui pressed.
Yao bit her lip, thinking. "Twice a month," she said. "Sometimes more if there's a major section I need guidance on."
Rui exhaled, nodding as he processed the information. "That's doable," he said decisively. "If we adjust for your academic workload, we can structure your role in a way that won't interfere with your Ph.D. program."
Yao stared at him, wide-eyed. "Adjust?"
"Of course," Rui said smoothly, waving a hand. "We don't need a full-time analyst sitting in the base all day. We need someone who can break down data, present findings, and help refine our strategic approach. Most of that can be done remotely. We'll bring you in for major team meetings and review sessions, but we can absolutely work around your schedule."
Yao's heartbeat stuttered. Remote work. Meetings only when necessary. They weren't asking her to drop everything. They were adapting to her. She inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the cup as uncertainty and possibility warred within her. "But…" she hesitated, voice soft. "Would that even be… enough?"
This time, it was Sicheng who spoke. "It's more than enough," he said, his voice low but firm.
Yao looked up, her hazel eyes meeting his before flickering away again, her pulse fluttering under the intensity of his gaze.
"You're already doing the work," Sicheng continued, tapping the edge of her dissertation with his fingers. "You understand the game. You've been analyzing me this whole time. It would be a waste if we didn't use that."
Yao swallowed hard, feeling her pulse pick up at the sheer certainty in his tone. They actually wanted her. Him. He wanted her. The realization settled deep in her chest, a strange warmth unfurling despite the nerves twisting inside of her. She took a slow, shaky breath, eyes darting down to the dissertation resting on the table. "I… need to think about it." she whispered.
Rui smiled, ever patient. "Of course," he said, as if he already knew what her decision would be.
And Sicheng?
He just leaned back, his smirk barely there, but unmistakably knowing. Because she would say yes. She just needed time to realize it.
The atmosphere, which had just begun to settle, suddenly shifted again as Ming, ever the tactician, narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned forward. "Alright, but what about your parents?" he asked, his tone carrying genuine concern. "I don't want them showing up later and causing you problems over this. If they're the strict, 'your education comes first' type, this could turn into a mess."
Yao's fingers twitched, her grip tightening around the ceramic cup in her hands as her posture subtly changed. The moment those words left Ming's mouth, she seemed to pull inward, her shoulders tensing, her entire frame drawing into itself. She didn't speak right away, her lips pressing together as if bracing for something unseen. Then, quietly, barely above a whisper, she murmured, "I… lost them a few years ago."
Silence.
A sharp, heavy pause filled the room, the weight of her words sinking deep into the air between them.
Yue, who had been leaning casually against the arm of the couch, straightened slightly. Lao K and Lao Mao exchanged quick, subtle glances, and even Pang, who had been following along with quiet amusement before, suddenly looked less entertained.
Ming exhaled softly, clearly regretting the question. "Ah… I didn't know," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."
Yao shook her head quickly, fingers curling tighter around her tea. "It's okay," she whispered. "You didn't know." Another pause. Then, after a moment, she continued, her voice barely above a murmur. "I live in a studio apartment by myself," she said, as if answering a question that no one had asked. "It's small, but it's enough." A soft exhale left her lips as she hesitated before adding, "And… I have Da Bing."
That name—so completely unexpected in the midst of such a heavy conversation—made Yue blink. "Da Bing?" he echoed, thrown off. "Wait, who's Da Bing?"
Yao hesitated, then—very softly—she muttered, "My cat."
Yue stared at her. "Your cat?"
She nodded, still not looking at anyone. "He's a Siberian. Male."
Silence stretched for another beat—this time, not heavy, but… confused.
And then, completely ruining the serious moment, Pang muttered under his breath, "She has a cat named Big Cake."
Lao K snorted, unable to contain it, while Yue—who had initially been holding back—lost it.
"Wait, wait, wait," Yue wheezed, leaning forward, utterly entertained. "You—this whole time—you've been sitting here all shy and nervous, and you have a cat named Da Bing?"
Yao's ears turned red, and she immediately shrank further into her sweater. "I—I didn't name him for the food," she stammered, mortified. "He's just… big and fluffy."
More snorts. More barely-contained amusement.
Even Rui, who had been nothing but warm and patient with her, pressed a fist against his mouth to keep from smiling too much.
But the moment Yao dared a quick glance up—her nervous hazel eyes flickering toward one person in particular—her breath hitched.
Because Sicheng, unlike the others, wasn't laughing. No, he was just watching her. His amber gaze hadn't once left her, not when she had mentioned her parents, not when she had mentioned living alone. And now, when she was clearly overwhelmed, he wasn't teasing her.
He was just… there.
Present.
Watching.
And something about that made her heart race in a way she really wasn't ready for.
Yao shifted, the overwhelming weight of everything pressing down on her all at once—the attention, the questions, the teasing, the offer, him. She suddenly felt suffocated, the air in the room too thick, the presence of so many people too much. She needed to leave. Slowly, carefully, she set the teacup down on the table, her fingers lingering on the ceramic for just a moment before she pulled away, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. "I… I should get going. But… I'll think about it." she murmured, her voice soft but resolute.
Rui nodded approvingly, ever the patient one, while Ming and Yue exchanged knowing glances. Lao K and Pang, still clearly amused by Da Bing, refrained from making another comment, though Pang looked like he was barely holding it in.
But before Yao could turn, before she could make her exit—
Sicheng stood. The motion was smooth, unhurried, but it was enough to make her freeze for just a second. She glanced up, startled, watching as his tall frame stretched to full height, his posture relaxed but purposeful. "I'll give you a lift," he said, voice even, leaving no room for argument.
Yao's breath caught as she blinked up at him, wide-eyed. "W-what?" Sicheng didn't repeat himself. He simply reached for his phone, already moving toward the front entrance, expecting her to follow. She should refuse. She should insist that she was fine, that she could get home on her own. But the way he said it—so certain, so final—made it clear that arguing would be pointless. And so, swallowing hard, still feeling her face far too warm, she ducked her head slightly and murmured, "O-okay…" Behind her, she felt Yue smirk. And she knew the moment she left, the teasing would be merciless. But somehow…Somehow, Sicheng standing beside her made that thought not matter at all.
The front door clicked shut behind them, and the room remained silent for only a moment before Yue let out a sharp snort, leaning back against the couch with an almost exasperated sigh. "Okay any of you but my brother and I feeling increasingly overprotective of that little thing?" he drawled, dragging a hand down his face.
Lao K huffed out a laugh. "Oh, absolutely."
Ming merely hummed in amusement. "I don't know, Yue," he mused, tapping his fingers lightly against the ceramic. "Considering the way Sicheng just stood up and took her with him? I don't think we need to be overprotective. Looks like someone's already claimed the job."
That made everyone pause.
Rui, still standing near the table where Yao had left her untouched tea, sighed but didn't disagree. "She's shy, quiet, and completely unused to this kind of environment," he murmured, rubbing his temple. "And Sicheng? That man doesn't pay attention to just anyone. But the way he watches her? The way he listens to her?" He exhaled, shaking his head. "That is dangerous."
Pang grinned, stretching out his arms. "Man, I can't wait to see how this plays out."
Yue shot him a dry look. "You just want to see how much my brother loses his mind."
Pang's grin widened. "Of course I do."
Lao Mao sighed, already resigned. "I give it a week before Sicheng starts hunting down anyone who so much as looks at her wrong."
Lao K let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "A week?" he muttered, scoffing slightly. "Nah. I give it less than that after she signs the contract before Cheng starts working on getting her moved into the base."
That earned a few raised brows from the others.
Pang, who was still thoroughly entertained, smirked. "You really think he'll go that far that fast?"
Lao K gave him a look. "Have you met Cheng?"
That shut Pang up immediately.
Yue groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "No, no, no—you're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "My ice block of a brother is already acting territorial as hell, and she hasn't even agreed yet."
Ming, ever the composed one, sipped his tea as he calmly added, "If she says yes, he's not going to wait around. He'll convince Rui it's the best option for 'team efficiency' and 'protecting team data.'" His lips curled slightly. "And if Rui so much as hesitates? Cheng will just go over his head and do it anyway."
Yue sighed, already exhausted. "Well, there goes her peace and quiet."
Lao Mao snorted. "She's going to walk into this thinking she's getting a remote job, and next thing she knows, she'll be living in the base, watched 24/7 by the most overbearing team in existence."
Rui, who had been silent up until now, simply rubbed his temple and exhaled. "Great," he muttered. "Now I have to prepare another room, don't I?"
No one answered.
Because everyone already knew the answer.
Lao Mao let out a low chuckle before flashing a grin at the group. "You know," he mused, stretching out his legs as he leaned back, "it's gonna be nice having a little sister in the base."
That got everyone's attention.
For a second, silence filled the room as the words settled. Yue blinked, caught off guard, his arms still crossed over his chest. Pang raised a brow, looking mildly surprised, while Lao K exhaled in amusement. Even Rui, who had been rubbing his temple in exasperation just moments before, paused long enough to actually consider it.
Then—one by one—the agreement rolled in.
"…Yeah," Lao K muttered after a moment, nodding slightly. "Guess it would be nice."
Ming hummed, swirling his tea. "We already have a habit of keeping idiots in check," he mused. "Might as well add another reason to do it."
Pang laughed. "Man, I didn't realize it until now, but yeah—I kinda do feel like an overprotective big brother already."
Yue groaned, dragging a hand down his face before muttering, "Great. This is exactly what we needed, more reasons to scare off people." But the way he sighed, long and suffering, made it clear that even he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea.
Rui, ever practical, rolled his eyes. "Right, well, if she does end up here, at least try not to scare her off immediately."
Lao Mao just grinned. "No promises."
And just like that—it was decided.
They weren't just hiring a Data Analyst.
They were getting a little sister.
And heaven help anyone who tried to mess with her now.
~~~
The car ride was quiet. Not the uncomfortable kind, but the kind that carried a weight Yao didn't fully understand. Sicheng didn't speak, his hands steady on the wheel, his sharp amber eyes fixed on the road ahead, but the silence… it felt heavy, like he was thinking. And when Sicheng was thinking, it usually meant trouble for someone.
Yao, still slightly flustered from everything that had happened at the base, sat with her hands tucked into her sleeves, occasionally sneaking glances at him, but he never looked her way. Not once. When they finally pulled up to her apartment complex, she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt, eager to escape the lingering tension. "T-Thank you," she murmured, reaching for the door handle.
But as she did, Sicheng's eyes finally flickered over to her. Not with irritation, not with impatience—but with something cold, something disapproving. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Because the moment his gaze swept over the surrounding area, the run-down state of the complex, the dimly lit parking lot, the lack of security cameras—the sheer lack of safety—his expression darkened.
Yao, oblivious to just how deep that look went, quickly scrambled out of the car, bowing her head slightly. "I-I'll think about the offer," she added, her voice small, unsure. "Goodnight, Sicheng."
He didn't respond.
He just watched.
Watched as she walked up to the building's entrance, her arms still tucked into her oversized sweater, her small frame looking even smaller under the dull glow of the single flickering streetlamp. Watched as she pulled out her key, hesitating slightly before unlocking the door. Watched as she finally disappeared inside. Only then did he shift, leaning back in his seat, exhaling through his nose. Still, he didn't leave. Instead, he pulled out his phone, his fingers moving with sharp precision as he dialed a number. The moment the call connected, he didn't bother with pleasantries.
"I have a new job for you," he stated, his voice smooth but carrying an undeniable edge of command. "Her name is Tong Yao."
The man on the other end—a trusted enforcer, someone who handled very specific tasks for him—remained silent, waiting for further instructions.
"She lives in a studio apartment in a complex that should've been torn down years ago," Sicheng continued, his tone clipped, his jaw tight. "You're going to make sure nothing happens to her. She's not to know you're there, but if anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, I want to know about it."
A pause.
Then, the man on the other end spoke, his voice calm and professional. "Understood."
Sicheng's grip on the phone tightened slightly, his eyes still locked on the dimly lit building. "…Start tonight." And with that, he hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket before shifting the car into gear and driving off. He would give her time to think. But that didn't mean he was going to sit back and do nothing.
That night, lying in his bed at the ZGDX base, Lu Sicheng stared at the ceiling, his hands folded behind his head, his mind running through every possible angle, every possible step he needed to take.
Tong Yao.
She wasn't like anyone else. That much was already clear. He had dealt with women before—fangirls who fawned over him, female players who wanted his attention, sponsors and industry figures who saw him as a valuable asset to be won over. They had always been predictable, easy to read, easy to dismiss when they became a nuisance.
But her?
She wasn't trying to impress him. She wasn't trying to win favor or flirt her way into an advantage. Hell, she hadn't even looked at him properly most of the time. She had stumbled over her words, ducked her head, refused to meet his eyes for more than a second—but it wasn't out of manipulation or coyness.
It was real.
She was real.
Shy. Introverted. Quietly brilliant in a way that made even him take notice. And completely oblivious to the fact that she had just walked into the center of his world without even trying.
Sicheng exhaled, shifting slightly under the sheets, his mind going over everything he had learned about her in such a short time. She had lost her parents. She lived alone. She had spent her whole life isolated—not by choice, but because no one had ever known how to treat her. She had learned to stay on the outside, to focus on things that made sense rather than trying to force herself into places where she wasn't wanted.
And now, suddenly, she was here.
In his orbit.
And he had no intention of letting her go.
But he couldn't rush this.
Tong Yao wasn't like the others. She wasn't someone who could be pulled in with charm or worn down by persistence. She wasn't someone who would fall into place just because he decided she should.
No.
With her, he had to take his time. He had to be patient.
Because if he pushed too hard, too fast—she would run. Just like she had before. His fingers drummed lightly against his stomach, his mind already constructing the path forward. First, she needed to sign the contract. Then, he had to get her into the base. Not just for convenience. Not just because she would be an asset. But because she needed protection. She had already been targeted once, Jian Yang had tried to manipulate her, and Ai Jia, whether knowingly or not, would have handed her work over if she had let him. And now, she was living alone, unguarded, in a building that wasn't safe enough for someone like her.
No. That wasn't happening.
Once she was here, once she was in his space, she would be theirs.
A part of his team.
A part of his world.
And more than anything—
A part of his life.
His lips curled slightly, an almost imperceptible smirk flickering across his face as he closed his eyes, his plans solidifying into something inevitable.
She didn't know it yet.
But Tong Yao was already his.
And Sicheng?
He could be very patient when something—or someone—was worth it.