Against the Algorithm

Chapter 10: Boundaries and Bloodlines

Yao didn't look at him at first. Her cheeks were already burning, and she knew—she knew—if she met his gaze, she would completely short-circuit. So she tried one last time. "I—I just remembered I have work to—"

"No, you don't." His voice was calm, smooth, unwavering.

Yao winced.

She had tried.

Really, she had.

But now?

Now she had nowhere to go.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned to look at him, her hazel eyes flickering up, meeting his directly. And immediately regretted it. Because he was staring right at her, his sharp amber gaze locked onto her like he was reading every single thought in her head.

He tilted his head slightly, his grip loosening just enough to let her move, but not enough to let her run again. "Avoiding me for two days, Tong Yao? That's a little dramatic." His voice was too smooth, carrying something undeniable beneath it.

Yao's face went up in flames as she sputtered, her words coming out all wrong. "I—I wasn't avoiding you! I was just—just—"

Sicheng lifted an eyebrow.

She deflated instantly. "...Avoiding you."

His lips curled slightly, something too knowing flickering in his expression. "Why?"

Yao panicked because how was she supposed to answer that? Because her brain had decided to replay Yue's words over and over again like a broken record. Because she had been thinking too much about that damn interview. Because she couldn't stop remembering the way Sicheng had looked at her after their match. "...No reason."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Try again."

Yao swallowed, her fingers fidgeting slightly against her sleeve, her entire body screaming at her to escape but there was nowhere to go.

And Sicheng knew it. So he waited. Calm. Patient. Unyielding.

Yao swallowed hard, her mind racing for an escape, for a way out of this conversation, but there was none. Sicheng was right there, standing too close, his steady amber eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heartbeat stumble. He wasn't rushing her, wasn't pushing, but that was worse. Because he was waiting. And he wasn't going to let her go until she answered him. Yao exhaled slowly, her fingers tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. "I just... I didn't know how to act around you after that match," she muttered, voice small. "It just—felt weird."

Sicheng lifted a brow. "Weird?"

Yao winced, knowing that wasn't the right word, but what else could she say? That she had spent the last two days overthinking everything? That her brain refused to stop replaying that damn interview quote? That every time she looked at him now, she remembered that stupid, teasing smirk and the way he had told her, next time, I won't let you win...Her face burned hotter, and she knew Sicheng could see it. He didn't move, didn't react, but she could feel the shift in his focus, the way he had picked up on every single sign of her flustered state.

Damn it.

"It's just—" she started, then groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Tong Yao." Sicheng huffed a small breath, something like amusement flickering in his gaze. She peeked through her fingers, eyes full of hesitation. His voice dropped lower, smoother, and just a little too knowing. "You're overthinking this."