Against the Algorithm

Chapter 47: More Than Enough

Summary: What begins as a surprise visit spirals into chaos wrapped in ribbon and leather, stirring quiet storms and louder declarations no one dares name aloud. But beneath the teasing, the smirks, and the sulking pets lies something steadier—unspoken, sure, and deeply felt. And by the time night falls, it isn't about the gifts or the battles of pride. It's about the way she reaches for him without hesitation—and the way he never lets go.

Chapter Forty-Seven

The next day unfolded with the usual rhythm—morning training sessions, half-asleep yawns, Da Bing refusing to move from his claimed half of Yao's desk, and Xiao Cong still glaring at Sicheng from across the room anytime he so much as looked in Yao's direction for longer than a breath.

It was calm. Peaceful, even.

Until the front door burst open.

"Make way!" came the unmistakably smug voice of Chen Jinyang. "The Queen has arrived with offerings for her Tiny Boss Bunny!"

Yao startled at her desk, nearly knocking over her cup of tea as she blinked up to see her best friend striding in like she owned the building—carrying three food bags in one hand, the other pushing the door open with dramatic flair. Right behind her, balancing two additional garment bags and a stack of neatly boxed items, came Ai Jia—long-suffering and visibly resigned but obediently following with that fond, patient look that said he'd been roped in and hadn't even tried to fight it.

Yao stood quickly, cheeks already beginning to pink as Jinyang beelined toward her. "What's all this—?"

Jinyang grinned and held up the food bags first. "Fuel. Celebratory lunch. From your favorite place. And yes, I got the tofu soup. And yes, I made him carry the bags because I didn't want to ruin my nails."

"You didn't even offer to carry anything," Ai Jia muttered under his breath as he set the bags and boxes down on the lounge table.

"Semantics," she waved off, then turned her sharp, amused eyes back to Yao. "And this—" she swept her hand toward the garment bags—"is from me. Because we are celebrating your dissertation defense being scheduled, and I refuse to let you look anything less than terrifyingly beautiful while doing it."

Yao's flush deepened as she moved toward the bags, cautiously reaching for one of the garment boxes. "Jinyang, you didn't have to—"

"I did," Jinyang said, hands on her hips. "And don't start. You let the Lu Matriarch send you diamonds and rubies, so you're not getting out of this one."

Sicheng, seated a few feet away reviewing match data, glanced up at the words, brow lifting slightly. His gaze dropped to the boxes, then to Yao, then lingered on Jinyang, who grinned back unapologetically.

Yao opened the first box and smiled immediately—soft knits, a flowy sage blouse, and a pale gray cardigan in her favorite cut. The next held a few beautifully tailored skirts, a delicate embroidered top that looked hand-stitched. She was just starting to thank her when she pulled open the third box—

And paused.

Right on top, nestled in tissue paper, was a white and black fitted leather jacket with silver zippers and a cinched waist, clearly tailored. Beneath it, a black leather skirt that would stop just shy of mid-thigh. Followed by a pair of knee-high black leather boots with dark silver buckles that gleamed under the light. And finally a dark purple corset-styled top with silver lacing and sculpted boning.

Yao blinked.

Her face went crimson.

Behind her, a quiet shift.