Against the Algorithm

Chapter 15: Undone by the Smallest Things

Sicheng arched one brow, not moving, clearly waiting to see where this was going.

Yao, undeterred, narrowed her eyes. She inhaled deeply again, shoulders rising, and then with all the self-righteous authority she could summon from the very core of her soul, she delivered her final blow: "Or I'm telling your mother."

Silence.

The room—for the first time all evening—went completely still. Even the background hum of someone's phone charging seemed to fade out of existence.

Yao stood with her arm extended, finger still pointed with unwavering judgment, her eyes locked onto Sicheng's like she had just fired the world's deadliest arrow and was daring him to dodge.

And for a heartbeat—just one—he didn't.

Sicheng blinked. Slowly.

Then—

Pure, unfiltered chaos.

Lao Mao choked so hard on his drink that Pang had to slap his back.

Yue howled in laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping, "She used the mother card! Ge's gonna die! "

Pang slid halfway off the couch, wheezing, "That's it, I'm done—Sicheng's weakness has been found!"

Ming muttered in reverent awe, "Brutal. Efficient. She doesn't miss."

Even Rui was doubled over laughing, glasses askew, a hand over his mouth as if trying to remain composed but failing spectacularly.

Sicheng, who had until now remained poised and unbothered, was now visibly stunned, his smirk faltering for the first time that evening as he stared down at the finger pointed in his face. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then let out a long, quiet exhale. "...That's low, Xiǎo Tùzǐ."

Yao, who was now blushing fiercely again but holding her ground, sniffed primly. "So is teasing someone who just wanted to help."

Sicheng's jaw shifted slightly, and then he exhaled through his nose, turning toward the kitchen without a word. But not before tossing over his shoulder, "...Fine. I'll be nice."

Yue, still recovering, collapsed back onto the couch. "She actually won."

Pang, dazed, whispered, "We're living in a new era."

Yao crossed her arms triumphantly, cheeks still pink, but now glowing with the power of having tamed the beast.

And Sicheng, reaching for a glass of water, muttered lowly under his breath, "...She really said she was gonna tell my mom." He didn't even sound mad. Just...defeated.

The next morning, Sicheng sat at his desk, the morning light filtering through the blinds casting sharp, slanted lines across his workspace. His fingers moved with practiced efficiency over the keyboard as he skimmed through the wave of unread emails that had collected in his inbox overnight, sponsorship proposals, scheduling confirmations, performance breakdowns, and the usual mountain of business clutter that came with owning and managing one of the top e-sports organizations in the league.

Most of it was routine. Most of it he barely had to read. But then—he saw it. The subject line was simple. The sender was not.

Subject: Medical Check-Ups for the Team
From: #OneHarpy

His jaw tightened immediately, his finger pausing over the mouse before clicking the message open without another moment of hesitation. He already knew what it was about. She had warned him—twice. Once in person, and now in writing, because when his mother was serious, she didn't rely on conversation alone. She documented it. She followed through. She left no excuses.