Against the Algorithm

Chapter 17: Fractures and Shifts

At the top, she opened her door, her voice low but audible as it drifted back down to her cat. "Close it, please."

The door clicked softly shut behind them.

Sicheng stared at it for a long second. Then turned. "She's fine." And he walked past them toward his office, not offering more. Because she needed space.

The steam still clung faintly to the air when Yao stepped out of the bathroom, towel twisted into her damp silver hair, oversized sleep shirt falling soft and loose over her shoulders. The hot water had done little to clear the tight ache sitting just under her collarbone, that strange blend of confusion and something quieter—something like sadness, but without sharp edges. She padded barefoot across the polished floor of her small apartment, Da Bing curled in his usual spot near the foot of the bed, tail flicking gently, eyes half-closed but still watchful. Her phone lay on the nightstand, screen dark.

Yao stared at it for a moment, chewing gently on the inside of her cheek. Her fingers hovered, then curled. Then hovered again. She didn't want comfort. Not really. And she wasn't looking for someone to take her side. She wanted perspective. She wanted someone who would tell her the truth—not in a harsh way, not cruel or punishing—but with clarity. With reason. The kind of truth that didn't sting so much as settle. So she picked up the phone. Scrolled down.

Stopped at the contact labeled simply: Madam Lu .

After a short pause, she tapped the icon.

The line rang only twice before the smooth, elegant voice answered.

"Yao'er?"

Yao blinked. "You answered fast."

"I always answer when it's you," came the warm reply.

Yao let out a soft breath and sat down at the edge of her bed, towel still in her hair, the edge of her sleeves brushing her fingers. "I... needed your opinion."

There was a brief pause on the other end, then a shift in tone—still warm, but quieter, more attentive. "I'm listening."

Yao hesitated. Not from fear—but from the weight of choosing the right words. "I had lunch with Jinyang today."

"I see," Madam Lu replied, tone even, without judgment.

"She... wanted me to quit ZGDX." Another pause. "She bought YQCB. She wanted to hire me."

"I see," Madam Lu said again.

"She didn't ask if I was okay," Yao continued, her voice quiet. "Not once. She didn't ask about the break-in. She didn't ask about the job I'm doing here. She just told me I needed to leave."

"And what did you say?"

"I told her no," Yao said simply.

There was silence for a breath. Then—

"And now you're wondering if you were wrong."

Yao nodded slowly, forgetting for a moment that Madam Lu couldn't see her. "Yes."

"Because she's your friend."

"...Yes."

Madam Lu didn't rush her reply. When it came, her voice was calm. Measured. Clear. "You weren't wrong to say no."

Yao closed her eyes. "But?"

"No 'but,'" Madam Lu replied. "Just this—disappointment doesn't always mean someone failed you. Sometimes, it means you expected something they were never prepared to give. And that's not your fault. It's not theirs either. It just is. "