Against the Algorithm

Chapter 54: Given, Not Owed

Sicheng had already taken off his headset. His chair pushed back slowly, the movement quiet. Controlled. Dangerous. He stood. His expression unreadable. And then, he stepped into the lounge. His eyes locked immediately on the sight before him. Yao, pinned to the couch under Jinyang's full-body declaration of eternal gratitude. Her legs half folded beneath her, her hair a soft mess from impact, her cheeks pink, her hands pressed awkwardly against her friend's shoulder as she struggled not to squeak again.

Jinyang beamed. "Lu Captain," she said, not even pretending to sit up. "Congratulations! You're being upgraded to Brother-in-Law!"

Sicheng's eyes narrowed just slightly. He didn't speak right away. But the tension in the room shifted. Slowly, very slowly, he walked across the lounge, the slight flex of his jaw the only indication that his very soul was vibrating with the territorial urge to rip someone off the couch.

Yao saw him coming and squeaked again with flustered protest. "Jinyang—get off—!"

"Not until you accept my undying gratitude and legally binding vow of devotion," Jinyang declared with a grin.

Sicheng reached them. Without hesitation, he leaned down, slipped his arms beneath Yao, and lifted her straight off the couch and out of Jinyang's grasp as if she weighed nothing at all.

She let out a soft eep, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his hoodie. "Cheng-ge—!"

"You're not marrying her." he said flatly, one arm securing her effortlessly against his chest.

"She gave me a Corvette," Jinyang argued from the couch. "In my color. With a handwritten note. That is a marriage proposal where I come from!"

"She's my Intended and she won't be proposed to by anyone else." he said coolly, his voice low and firm as he glanced down at her still-blushing form in his arms.

"Can I at least visit her on the weekends as my wife?" Jinyang pouted, not the least bit deterred.

"No."

"Can I take her out for a hotpot next week?"

"No."

Yao peeked up at him, voice muffled. "She can take me for a hotpot."

Sicheng's eye twitched. "You can't be the one defending her right now."

"I knew it. I always said you were the territorial one." Jinyang huffed from the couch as she sulked and crossed her arms.

"I never denied it."

"Please put me down..." Yao mumbled into his chest. But he didn't. Not right away. He just held her closer, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head, his arms protective, warm, steady.

And across the room, Pang whispered to Lao Mao, "I don't think I've ever seen him that close to killing someone while still being polite."

Lao Mao nodded solemnly. "It's the soft-voiced rage for me."

Meanwhile, Da Bing finally lifted his head from the backrest and gave Jinyang a look that clearly translated to: she's not yours.

Jinyang was still dramatically sprawled across the ZGDX lounge couch, arms stretched out like she was in the final act of an opera, cheek pressed to the cushions in theatrical despair. "He said I can't marry her," she lamented to Da Bing, who remained perched atop the backrest, unmoved and thoroughly unimpressed.

"She's not on the market." came Sicheng's voice, low and steady from the opposite end of the couch, where he now sat with Yao tucked beside him like she belonged there. His arm lay lightly across her shoulders, and despite the lingering blush on her cheeks, Yao wasn't trying to escape him anymore, just quietly enduring the chaos as it swirled around her.