Against the Algorithm

Chapter 20: When Joy Breaks the Silence

Summary: A single sound—sharp, unexpected, and entirely hers—sends the entire ZGDX base into chaos. But beneath the laughter, the teasing, and the celebration lies something deeper. Not just pride, not just recognition, but a shift in the air between them. As one door quietly opens at the end of the night, it becomes clear that some moments aren't about strategy or timing—they're about the courage to ask, and the quiet bravery of saying yes.

Notes:

Author's Note: Things are progressing indeed!

Chapter Twenty

A Month Later

The arrival of the new team uniforms was supposed to be a moment of simplicity, an afterthought in the middle of a long day, something they would unpack together with a few lazy jokes, maybe some teasing about sizes or colors or whether the material made Yue look more ridiculous than usual, a casual ritual of team life that held no real weight—just another checkpoint in their shared timeline. And yes, there had been some mild curiosity about Yao's set, a few private comments exchanged earlier in the week about the customization, the fact that she'd requested pants instead of the default skirt and that the design team had gone out of their way to respect her preferences, but no one had expected anything dramatic, and certainly no one expected her to make an entrance before they even got the chance to call her down.

But then—

A sound.

A sound that none of them had ever heard before, not from her, not in this house, not in this life—a sharp, piercing squeal of unrestrained, unfiltered, uncontrollable joy—burst down from upstairs with such intensity, such volume, such sheer emotional clarity that every single man in the living room froze in place as though the foundations of reality had just shifted.

It wasn't fear. It wasn't confusion. It was pure, primal instinct kicking in because nothing in their combined life experience had prepared them for Tong Yao making that noise.

And then they heard the second part.

Thudding.

Quick, repeated, bouncing thuds across her floor, and the creaking groan of her door flung open wider, followed by a breathless, gleeful cry of triumph.

"Da Bing! Da Bing! It was approved!!"

That was all it took.

The pause lasted maybe a second, maybe two—and then the room exploded.

A blur of motion, stomping feet on stairs, someone tripping over the coffee table leg, someone else vaulting the back of the couch entirely, all of them scrambling like idiots with the singular focus of get upstairs now, pushing and elbowing and fighting like soldiers on the front line trying to be the first to reach the truth behind that squeal, because whatever had made Yao scream like that? They needed to know.

By the time they reached her door—some panting, some wide-eyed, some still fighting for position—they were met with a scene that none of them had ever witnessed before.

Tong Yao.

Glowing.

Beaming.

Radiating so much happiness that it physically stunned them.

She was standing in the middle of her apartment, clutching Da Bing to her chest as the large cat blinked slowly and judgmentally at the chaos behind her, while she bounced slightly on her feet, her hazel eyes alight with the kind of joy that was so honest, so real, so completely unguarded that not a single one of them knew what to do with it except stare. Because she was always cute—quietly so—adorable in her fumbling explanations, in the way she tried to hide behind her hoodie sleeves, in the way her ears turned red when she was flustered or called out for something—but this was different. This was her—joyful, unfiltered, free. And it was breathtaking.