Against the Algorithm

Chapter 66: She Signed in Silence, and the World Shifted

Summary: She walked into the room they thought would break her—and didn't flinch. Backed by power, flanked by love, and burning with quiet legacy, Yao didn't have to raise her voice to be heard. She just had to speak. And by the time the ink dried, they all knew the truth: she wasn't just her mother's daughter—she was her own storm.

Chapter Sixty-Six

The elevator ride up to the executive floors of Tencent's Shenzhen headquarters was bathed in cool, sterile lighting, all polished chrome, clean white lines, and the soft hum of corporate gravity pressing in from every direction.

Yao stood near the back corner of the lift, a tablet hugged against her chest like a shield, her fingers white-knuckled on its edges. She wore a crisp, tailored blazer over one of her soft cream sweaters, her hair carefully braided to one side, and her lip tucked nervously between her teeth. And right beside her—very close beside her—was Lu Sicheng.

He hadn't let her go since they stepped into the building. One hand rested firmly at the small of her back, thumb brushing a slow, idle rhythm that should've been calming—except it wasn't. Because his other hand had casually taken possession of her free wrist, his grip loose but constant, as if daring the walls themselves to challenge his right to her presence. He hadn't spoken much since they arrived. But his body had said everything.

Lan stood to their left, her arms folded across the front of her sharp navy suit, eyes sliding toward her son with a slow, calculated glance. She said nothing, but the lift of her eyebrow could've slayed a lesser man.

Next to her, Lu Sheng had both hands resting on the polished steel handle of his umbrella, expression the picture of smug amusement as he leaned just slightly to whisper behind a curled knuckle, "He's coiled like a storm cloud."

On Yao's other side stood Kaya, immaculate as ever in charcoal slacks and a sleeveless black blouse beneath a long, pressed coat, tablet tucked under her arm. Her gaze flicked between the two of them, then zeroed in on Sicheng's hand curled around Yao's wrist with a quiet, unreadable hum.

Yao felt all of it. Every glance. Every look. Every breath of knowing. She tried to step slightly forward to check her tablet again—and immediately Sicheng's hand on her back slid lower, firm and grounding, pulling her subtly but unmistakably back against his side.

Yao flushed, turning her head slightly toward him. "C-Cheng-ge..."

His voice was low, quiet enough that only she heard it. "Stay close."

"I am close." she whispered, pink blooming across her cheeks.

"You can be closer." he muttered, not even pretending to be sorry.

Kaya coughed softly into her hand—once.

Yao turned even redder.

Lan, still impassive, finally spoke. "Is it necessary to visibly broadcast possession in an elevator, or is this just a display for internal morale?"

Sicheng didn't even blink. "If I don't, some executive's assistant is going to blink at her wrong and I'll have to flip a desk."

Sheng grinned. "Ah, young love and paranoia."

Yao let out a soft, mortified breath and muttered toward Kaya, "Is it always like this?"

Kaya, deadpan, replied without looking up, "Worse when you're wearing his hoodie. Kazime nearly broke an assistant's hand once for daring to touch my shoulder, without permission."