Against the Algorithm

Chapter 40: The Quiet Before the Reckoning

Lan's expression lost all trace of smirk. "She's not going to," she said coolly. "I already have people working through every crevice of her life. She's not just expelled—she's blacklisted. The academic record flagged. Prospective internships withdrawn. Her name is being quietly erased from every future that mattered to her."

Sicheng finally looked away from his mother, down at Yao, who stirred slightly in her fevered sleep, brow twitching as if reacting to the tension in the room. His voice dropped. "I want her name gone, and I want her remembered for exactly what she is."

"And she will be," Lan answered, no hesitation in her tone. "But only by the people who matter. The rest of the world will simply forget her. Your girl, however?" Lan looked back at Yao, something far more dangerous and possessive glinting in her eyes now. "She will be known. She will be protected. Because she carries the Lu name whether it's written in ink yet or not. And no one—no one who touched her past—will survive what we're building around her."

Sicheng said nothing. But his grip on Yao's hand didn't loosen. Because his mother wasn't threatening. She was promising.

The door eased open with a soft click, barely audible over the steady rhythm of the machines, and the moment Lu Sicheng glanced up from Yao's side, he already knew who it was before her voice could confirm it.

Chen Jinyang entered without a word at first, the heels of her boots muted by the tile, her sharp eyes scanning the room before settling briefly on the woman standing calmly at the foot of the bed. Her gaze landed on Lady Lu—elegant and ice-bound in her tailored coat—and after a beat, Jinyang offered her a small, respectful bow of her head, just enough to acknowledge who she was without apology or deference. Not fear, not submission—simply awareness.

Lan gave a slight nod in return, saying nothing, stepping subtly to the side without ever truly ceding presence.

Jinyang's attention shifted to the man seated beside the bed, fingers still loosely entwined with Yao's. Her eyes softened as they moved to the girl lying motionless beneath the hospital blanket, and it was only then that she finally spoke. "They called me," she said quietly, her voice tight with worry but carefully composed, "the hospital. I'm still listed as her emergency contact."

Sicheng didn't flinch at that—he just nodded once, not surprised in the least. Of course she was. Before him, before ZGDX, before everything else, Jinyang had been Yao's family when no one else was. That hadn't changed. "She's stable now," he said, his voice low and measured. "Fever's started to break. They've got her on fluids and a stronger antibiotic. It's strep. Severe. They said it was starting to move toward bronchitis. She was already dehydrated when we got here."

Jinyang moved closer, her arms wrapping around herself as she stood at the other side of the bed. Her dark eyes didn't leave Yao's face. "She must've been pushing through the symptoms," she murmured. "She always does. Always thinks there's time to rest later."

Sicheng's gaze flicked up to meet hers. "There isn't later if she collapses from it."

Jinyang nodded slowly, guilt clouding her features even though she had no reason for it. Her hand reached out, fingertips brushing gently against the edge of the blanket near Yao's shoulder, her touch careful, reverent. "She looks so small like this," she whispered.

Lan, quiet until now, spoke again from the corner of the room, her tone smooth and composed. "She may look small. But she's far from weak."

Jinyang didn't turn to face her. She didn't need to. "I know," she replied softly. "She's the strongest person I've ever met."