Against the Algorithm

Chapter 34: When Want Becomes Intention

Summary: Between careful research, quiet strategy, and one very flustered escape, everything begins to shift. What starts with data ends with clarity—of trust, of want, and of the soft truths shared behind closed doors. No rush, no pressure. Just a promise that whatever comes next, they'll face it together. One step at a time.

Notes:

Author's Note: Relationships are built on trust and communication.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Two days later, with the base quiet save for the steady rhythm of controllers clicking and low voices rising and falling from the training room below, Yao sat curled on the small loveseat in her apartment, one leg tucked under her, her laptop open beside her but long forgotten. The afternoon sunlight filtered in lazily through the half-open curtains, and Da Bing lounged in a sun patch by the window, his massive white frame stretched out like he owned the place, which, of course, he very much did. She tapped her phone screen a few times, chewing the inside of her cheek, then hesitated once more before finally exhaling and pressing call. It didn't take long for the line to pick up.

"Yao'er?" came the smooth, familiar voice on the other end, warm and precise with that edge of amusement that always hinted she already knew something was up. "What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Yao cleared her throat and sat up straighter, suddenly nervous, though there was no reason to be. "Lan... I mean, Aunty Lan," she corrected quickly, flustering, "I was wondering if—if maybe I could ask you something. About... Cheng-ge."

There was a beat of silence.

Then: "Go on," Lady Lu said, tone now slightly more intrigued.

Yao hesitated just a breath longer, then asked, voice soft but sincere, "What's his favorite dinner? And dessert. I want to make something for him... without messing it up." The silence on the other end was brief, but heavy with meaning—and then a slow, knowing laugh echoed through the line, the kind that made Yao want to curl into the hoodie she was wearing and vanish.

"Oh, my girl," Lan said, and the smile was audible now, "you're trying to feed my son? Now that is a declaration if I've ever heard one."

"I just... want to do something for him," Yao muttered. "He's been taking care of me a lot lately."

"And you think I won't help you because I'll be offended?" Lan replied, laughter warm and cutting. "Nonsense. I'll send you the full recipe list. But if you really want to win points—steamed cod with garlic scallion oil, jasmine rice on the side, and—" her voice dropped conspiratorially, "black sesame glutinous rice balls with ginger syrup. He won't say it out loud, but that dessert has been his favorite since he was five."

"I... really? Thank you." Yao blinked, furiously typing notes into her phone.

"No need to thank me," Lan said smoothly. "Just promise me one thing."

"...What?"

"Make him smile. The real one. The one that makes his eyes crinkle."

Yao, cheeks burning, whispered, "I'll try."

Lan hummed once, then ended the call with a parting line that lingered long after the call disconnected. "You won't need to try, my dear. You're already his favorite thing."

Yao stared down at her phone, heart thudding far louder than it had any right to, and swallowed hard as she glanced toward the kitchen. She had some shopping to do. Because if she was going to cook for him? She was going to do it right.