Against the Algorithm

Chapter 17: Fractures and Shifts

Jinyang, for once, said nothing.

"I moved into the ZGDX base that night. Temporarily. For safety." Yao added, voice steadier now, even if her hands were not.

"And they made you work?" Jinyang asked, voice rising again.

Yao shook her head, firmly. "No. I asked. I wanted to help. I am helping. I'm ZGDX's part-time data analyst."

Jinyang scoffed. "That's not helping, Yao. That's burying yourself. You need to quit. I'll hire you for YQCB."

That did it.

Yao's expression didn't change much. Her voice didn't grow cold. But something in her spine straightened, subtle but unshakable. "You didn't ask me what I wanted," she said, finally lifting her gaze. "You came here angry. Deciding for me. Telling me what I should do."

Jinyang faltered. "I'm trying to help you."

Yao nodded once. "I know. But help that doesn't listen first... isn't help." The words were quiet. Blunt. And they made Jinyang sit back for the first time. "I'm fine at ZGDX," Yao said. "I'm working. I have my own room. I'm safe."

Jinyang blinked. "But you'd be safer at YQCB—"

"Would I?" Yao asked, blinking slowly. "When the Midlaner's girlfriend is trying to hire someone behind the board's back?" Jinyang opened her mouth. "I didn't think they'd like that," Yao added, more to herself than anyone else. "But... it doesn't matter."

Jinyang scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I own YQCB."

The words settled for a beat.

Yao blinked, confused. "You what?"

"I bought it. Full stake. All mine," Jinyang said, voice filled with pride. "Three days ago."

Yao stared, stunned. "You hate e-sports."

"You know why," Jinyang shot back. "Those Netizens were calling me names. Saying I was irrelevant. Riding Ai Jia's status."

Yao didn't say anything. She just blinked again. And something behind her soft eyes dimmed slightly. "So you bought a whole team," she said quietly. "To prove a point."

"It's about respect. " Jinyang snapped.

Yao nodded once, her expression unreadable. "Right." She stood, slowly, carefully adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She didn't look angry. She didn't raise her voice. But she didn't sit back down either. "I'm not quitting ZGDX," she said simply. Jinyang stared. "And I'm not going to YQCB." Her fingers fidgeted once with the edge of her sleeve. "I hope... this works out for you. But I think you want something from me that I can't give." Jinyang opened her mouth, but Yao dipped her head slightly—a small bow, polite and distant—and turned. She walked out with quiet steps. Not because she was defeated. But because, for the first time, she was choosing something that belonged entirely to her.

The sky had shifted by the time Yao left the café.

What had been faint afternoon light filtered now through thick clouds, the kind that held back rain just long enough to lull people into false comfort. The wind had picked up, brushing against her coat and sweeping her silver hair across her cheek. She didn't mind. Not really. Her steps were quiet, her pace steady. She could've called a DiDi. Should've, maybe. But her body had needed the motion, the rhythm of walking, the space it gave her to think—quiet and uninterrupted.

The conversation with Jinyang still echoed in her head.

Not in sharp fragments, but in low, tired waves. The kind that didn't sting so much as press—dull and unrelenting. She hadn't said everything she wanted. But she'd said enough. She hadn't expected Jinyang to understand. But she had hoped. The weight of that disappointment settled in her chest like cold tea—bitter and familiar. A drop of rain landed on her cheek. Then another. Her steps didn't falter. She had her coat. She had her hood. It wasn't far. And she didn't want to be in a car. Not right now.