Against the Algorithm

Chapter 40: The Quiet Before the Reckoning

Lan's gaze turned glacial. "Fully involved. Fund transfers. Coordinated timeline. Knew the man. Knew what he was supposed to do."

Jinyang's voice dropped into something quiet and shaking. "And Yao doesn't know. She's just been—living. With that knowledge buried under her feet."

"She doesn't need that right now," Sicheng said tightly. "Not while she's still sick. Not until she's strong enough to hear it."

Jinyang's arms wrapped around herself as she looked down at her best friend. "She's going to hate that we didn't tell her," she whispered.

"She might," Sicheng murmured, never looking away from the girl in the bed. "But she's still alive because we made those decisions for her."

"And when she's ready?" Jinyang asked.

His gaze was hard. Sure. "I'll be the one to tell her." And when he did, he would carry every ounce of it with her.

Jinyang's grimace deepened as her eyes swept over the sleeping form of her best friend, her hand hovering over Yao's arm again before pulling back. Her voice, when it came, was hushed—not because she feared waking her, but because the weight of what she was saying pressed down on her chest like something she hadn't quite let herself examine until now. "I've never met them," she said quietly, her eyes not leaving Yao. "Not the aunt. Not the uncle. Not even the cousin."

Sicheng's brows twitched slightly at that, but he didn't interrupt.

"I always thought that was weird," Jinyang went on, her tone growing brittle, her lips curling with something too close to disgust. "For people who claimed to care so much, they never once showed up. Not during competitions, not birthdays, not the awards ceremonies, not even when she moved. Not a visit. Not a video call. Not even a photo of her cousin." She gave a hollow laugh, soft and cold. "But the couple of times she talked to them on the phone?" Jinyang shook her head slowly. "Left a bitter taste every time. They weren't warm. They weren't kind. It was always about control. Manipulation dressed as concern."

Lan didn't speak, though her eyes sharpened with each word.

"They kept trying to convince her to give it all up," Jinyang continued, her tone darkening. "Said China wasn't safe. That esports wasn't a real path. That she was too young to know what she wanted, and that the future she was building here didn't matter. Her aunt—especially her aunt—used to go on about how they'd support her if she just came home." She paused, eyes flickering to Sicheng now, grim. "Promised her everything. Said they'd rent her a private apartment, give her a car, set her up at any university she wanted in the States. Said she wouldn't have to worry about anything. As long as she came back." She looked down at Yao, her voice softening just slightly, filled with quiet awe and fury all at once. "But she never did."

Sicheng didn't speak, but his thumb brushed over Yao's knuckles again, slow and steady.

"Even when she was alone," Jinyang whispered, eyes glassing over with something fierce, "even when she had no one but me and Da Bing, she still chose to stay. She refused to take the easy way. Refused to give them that control." Her eyes lifted to Lan now. "To think they had the nerve to pretend it was about love while planning something like that behind the scenes?"

Lan's gaze was cold steel. "It was never about love," the Lu matriarch replied softly, but with unmistakable finality. "It was about ownership. And they failed."

Jinyang looked back down at Yao, brushing a bit of platinum hair from her cheek with careful fingers. "They didn't just fail," she murmured. "They lost her."