Against the Algorithm

Chapter 67: What She Never Said Aloud

Summary: In the stillness of a preserved home and the warmth of a place finally claimed, Yao begins to remember what it means to belong. But it's in the quiet aftermath, in the laughter, the tenderness, and one trembling apology, that she reveals the truth even she didn't know she was carrying. And Sicheng? He makes sure she never carries it alone again.

Notes:

⚠️Author's Note: The Muse is on a roll.....we have been doing a lot of writing on graveyard! 🥰 It gets spicy in this chapter!

Disclaimer: The Muse would like to remind everyone we do not own FIYS nor the beloved characters nor any dialogue from either the show nor the book, even though they are constantly pouting at this reminder themselves.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Sixty-Seven

The morning was cool and quiet, the kind that slipped in gently through half-drawn curtains and the scent of early dew clinging to concrete and glass. Yao and Sicheng moved quietly down the stairs of the base coming down from her apartment, sneakers brushing softly against the steps, the weight of the day resting more in thought than in words.

Yao wore a soft beige cardigan over a simple white top, her jeans comfortably worn, and her platinum hair pulled into a low braid that brushed along the center of her back. Her purse was over her shoulder, and though her face was composed, there was something quieter in her eyes, something nostalgic, bracing.

Sicheng stayed close behind her, one hand gently resting on the small of her back as they stepped out into the morning light, crossing to where the car waited. He said nothing, but his presence, warm and solid, wrapped around her like armor.

The drive to the Yulan Residences was short, ten, maybe fifteen minutes, but neither of them spoke much. Xiao Cong had refused to be left behind and now sat in his carrier in the back seat, grumbling occasionally as Da Bing rested like a silent guardian beside him. Both cats were unusually alert, as if they knew where they were going mattered. When they arrived, the towers rose ahead like elegant stone giants, polished glass gleaming in the muted sun. Tower A on the left. Tower B on the right.

Sicheng looked at her quietly as the driver opened the door. "You ready?"

"I think so." Yao nodded, her fingers curling slightly around the strap of her bag.

They entered Tower B, the concierge recognizing Lu Sicheng immediately and giving a nod as he waved them toward the private elevators that serviced the upper floors. The ride up to the thirty-sixth floor was silent save for the occasional meow of disapproval from Xiao Cong.

When the elevator doors opened, Yao stepped out first. The hallway was quiet. Immaculate. Soft gray carpets. White walls. That faint scent of something clean and floral clinging to the air. She stopped outside unit 3602. Stared at the door. Her hand hesitated over the keypad.

Sicheng reached over and covered it gently with his own. "We go in together," he said quietly.

She nodded.

They entered.

And the moment the door opened, the past greeted her like a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

The condo was untouched.

Furnished.

Not like a hotel suite or a property held in cold storage but like a home. Wooden floors, soft lighting, warm textures in cream and pale blue, and the lingering impression of a life paused mid-breath. Her mother's taste. Her father's quiet order.