Summary: Tong Yao's quiet return to the base is met not with peace, but with the relentless concern of six mother hens—until Lu Sicheng, cool and composed, cuts through the noise and pulls her into his office. What begins as a simple check-in turns into a revelation that shakes the foundation beneath her feet: someone had wanted her after her parents died. Someone had searched. And that someone was his mother.
Chapter Nine
A week had passed since Sicheng had personally seen to Tong Yao, ensuring she recovered properly. By the time she returned to the ZGDX base for her usual workday, she had assumed things would go back to normal. She was wrong. Very, very wrong. The second she stepped inside, she was met with a full-force interrogation from the entire team.
Lao K was the first to pounce, arms crossed over his chest as he squinted at her. "You're sure you're feeling better?"
Pang, standing beside him, chimed in. "Yeah, because if you still need rest, we can—"
"I'm fine," Yao insisted, already overwhelmed as she tried to sidestep them.
She barely made it two steps before Yue leaned against the wall, watching her with a suspicious glint in his eyes. "Are you sure, sure? Because I personally feel like you should still be at home—"
"I said I'm fine!" she huffed, her face turning pink under their relentless concern.
Even Ming, who was usually the most composed, didn't help the situation. He simply was observing calmly before casually remarking, "You do still look a little pale."
Yao whipped around. "Not you too!"
At this point, even Rui had joined in, standing by with his hands on his hips. "Yao, I need to be completely sure—"
"Oh my god, I'm not going to break!"
The teasing from before had been manageable. But this? This was suffocating. She was surrounded on all sides by a group of grown men who apparently had nothing better to do than hover around her like she was made of glass and were acting like they were in their mother hen modes
And just as she was about to lose her mind—
A familiar voice cut through the chaos.
"She's fine."
The room shifted.
Everyone froze.
Because standing at the entrance to the common area, his presence effortlessly cutting through the noise, was Lu Sicheng. His sharp amber eyes flicked over the scene, clearly unimpressed, before settling directly on her. "I need to speak with you." His tone was casual, but there was an undeniable authority behind it. Then, without waiting for her response, he simply turned and started walking toward his office.
Yao blinked. "Wait—what?"
Sicheng didn't repeat himself. And before she could protest, she realized exactly what he had just done. He had saved her. From them. She didn't hesitate. Ignoring the way the others all watched with curiosity, she quickly followed after him, leaving the mother hens behind. And as she stepped into his office and the door clicked shut behind her, Yao suddenly had a distinct feeling. That this wasn't just a conversation.
It was something more.
Sicheng leaned back in his chair, his sharp amber eyes locked onto Yao as she settled into the seat across from him. He didn't waste time. "Has anyone by the name of Wang Lan or Lu Wang Lan, ever tried to contact you after your parents passed away?"
Yao blinked as her posture stiffened slightly, not in fear, but in genuine confusion. "Wang Lan?" she repeated, tilting her head. "No… I don't think so."
Sicheng's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair, his gaze not moving. "Are you sure?" His voice was even, smooth, but there was something deeper beneath the surface, something calculated.
Yao's brows furrowed, a small frown forming between them. She was sure. But the way he was watching her, the way he was pressing. Something wasn't right. Slowly, she exhaled, forcing herself to think, to go back to those years after her parents had died, when she had been taken in by her aunt and uncle, when everything had been isolated, controlled, restricted. Than her frown deepened. "…They wouldn't have let anyone contact me," she murmured.
Sicheng's expression didn't change.
Yao hesitated for a second before continuing, her voice quieter now, her fingers fidgeting slightly against the fabric of her sleeve. "When I was living with my aunt and uncle before I moved back to China, they prohibited anyone from reaching out to me. Especially from China."
Sicheng's jaw tightened slightly, but he remained silent, letting her continue.
"They always said it was to 'protect me.' That they didn't want anyone trying to bring up my parents or… or bother me about them." Her throat tightened slightly, the frustration she had long since buried creeping to the surface. "But honestly? I wish they hadn't done that. I would have liked to speak with my mother's old friends. It would have been… nice." Her fingers curled slightly against her lap. "They wouldn't talk about my parents. At all."
Silence settled between them.
But Sicheng?
He wasn't silent because he had nothing to say. He was silent because he was pissed. Not outwardly. Not obviously. But the sharpness in his gaze, the way his fingers stopped tapping against the chair, the way his entire body had gone still. Someone had cut her off. Someone had deliberately kept her from connecting to the people who had known her parents.
And his mother?
Had been one of those people.
Sicheng exhaled slowly, steadying himself before he spoke again. "So they controlled everything."
Yao swallowed hard, then nodded. "Pretty much."
Sicheng didn't speak immediately. Because now? Now he knew. If his mother had tried to reach out—if she had wanted to take responsibility for Yao. She had been blocked.
Sicheng didn't hesitate. Without a word, he pulled out his phone, scrolled to the images his mother had sent, and turned the screen toward Yao.
She froze.
Her hazel eyes widened as she stared at the photos, her fingers slowly reaching out, delicate but intentional, as she took the phone from his hand.
And then—
She cradled it.
Not like it was just a screen displaying an image, not like it was just some old photo— But like it was something fragile. Something precious. Her eyes stayed glued to the picture, unmoving, locked onto the image of her mother, Xu Roulan, young and full of life, smiling brightly with another woman at her side. It was a side of her mother she had never seen before.
Yao swallowed hard. Her voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper. "…How did you get this?"
Sicheng, watching her closely, let the silence sit for a moment.
Let her breathe.
Let her take it in.
Then, keeping his voice low but firm, he spoke. "The woman next to her?" His amber eyes didn't waver, his presence steady, grounding. "That's my mother. Lu Wang Lan."
Yao's breath hitched. She finally looked up at him, her expression caught between disbelief and something achingly vulnerable.
But Sicheng wasn't done. "She searched for you." His tone was calm, but it carried weight. "She tried to reach out to you after your parents passed."
Yao stilled.
Completely.
Her fingers curled tighter around the phone, as if afraid it might vanish if she loosened her grip. "…She did?" she whispered, almost too soft to be heard.
"Yes." Sicheng nodded, his gaze never leaving hers.
Yao's lips parted, but no sound came out. Her shoulders tensed, her entire frame drawn inward as if she was trying to process something too big to grasp all at once. Because if that was true. If someone had wanted her. If someone had searched for her. Then that meant…She hadn't been as alone as she thought. Her chest tightened, something warm and painful twisting deep inside her.
And Sicheng?
He simply waited.
Because right now—
This wasn't about him.
This was hers to process.
Yao sat there, her fingers still wrapped tightly around Sicheng's phone, her hazel eyes flickering back down to the image as if afraid that looking away would make it disappear. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, her heartbeat uneven. She had spent years thinking no one had tried to reach her. That no one had looked for her. Now Sicheng was sitting across from her, telling her otherwise. That his mother, Lu Wang Lan, had searched for her. Had wanted to find her. She bit her lip, hesitating, her fingers tightening just slightly against the phone as she tried to find the right words, tried to force her voice out past the lump in her throat.
Finally—
"…C-Can I… meet her?" The words came out small, barely above a whisper, shy and hesitant. Her voice wavered, betraying her emotions as she ducked her head slightly, avoiding his gaze as she stuttered through the rest. "I-I mean… o-only if she w-wants to, I—I don't want to be a b-bother or anything—"
Sicheng's fingers flexed against the desk. "Yao." His voice was low, smooth, but carried certainty.
She hesitated, her breath catching slightly as she finally looked up.
Sicheng met her gaze head-on, his amber eyes sharp but steady. "She's been waiting to meet you for years."
A pause.
Then—
"You're not a bother."
Yao's fingers twitched, her lips parting slightly before pressing together again, as if trying to hold back the sudden rush of emotions she didn't quite know how to handle. Because hearing that. Hearing him say that, with so much quiet certainty. It made something deep inside her shift. Something she hadn't realized she had been carrying all this time. Slowly, carefully, she nodded. "…Okay."
And Sicheng?
He simply reached for his phone, his voice as calm as ever, but carrying an unspoken finality as he murmured, "I'll arrange it."
The decision had been made.
Sicheng didn't ask again. He didn't push or test her hesitation—because the second Yao had nodded, the second she had agreed, he had known it was already set in stone. So he picked up his phone, his fingers moving with effortless precision as he pulled up his mother's contact.
Yao, still holding herself small, still looking as if she was processing the weight of everything, watched him. Her hands, which had been gripping the phone so tightly before, finally loosened.
Sicheng didn't rush her. Didn't fill the silence. He let her breathe. But that didn't mean he hesitated. His thumb hovered over his mother's name for only a moment before pressing Call.
The line rang twice before it connected.
"Lu Sicheng." Lan's voice came through the speaker, smooth but pointed, as if she had been waiting for his call. "I assume you're finally ready to give me an answer?"
Sicheng glanced at Yao, who was now gripping the hem of her sleeve, her hazel eyes wide, filled with something he could only describe as uncertainty wrapped in hope. He shifted slightly, leaning back in his chair, his voice smooth and unshaken. "She wants to meet you."
Silence.
Then—
A slow, steady exhale from the other end of the line.
"When?"
Yao looked at Sicheng quickly, her expression filled with shyness, nervousness, but not fear.
Sicheng tilted his head slightly, still watching her. "When are you free?"
Yao hesitated, swallowing hard before murmuring, "…I—I can make time."
His amber eyes flickered, but he didn't comment. Instead, he relayed it exactly as she said it. "She'll make time."
A pause.
Then—Lan's voice softened, just barely.
"Tell her, I'll be in Shenzhen this weekend."
Sicheng nodded to himself. "Done." But before he could end the call, before he could fully process what was happening, his mother's voice came through one last time.
"Thank you, Sicheng."
His fingers paused over the screen. His mother didn't thank people. But she had thanked him. And before he could dwell on it, before he could even begin to pick apart what that meant, she ended the call first.
The line went dead.
"So…?" Yao fidgeted, her fingers still curled into her sweater.
Sicheng exhaled slowly, slipping his phone back into his pocket before looking at her. "This weekend."
Yao nodded quickly, but there was a slight tremble in the way she moved. Not because she was afraid. But because she knew. Something big was about to change.
Yao hesitated, her fingers curling tighter into the fabric of her sweater, her hazel eyes flickering toward Sicheng before quickly darting away again. Her throat felt dry, her nerves twisting inside her like a tangled knot. She had agreed to meet Lu Wang Lan, but now that it was real, now that a date was set and there was no going back, something about it felt so much bigger. She swallowed hard, her voice smaller than usual when she finally spoke. "…Will you be there?"
The question hung in the air, tentative and uncertain, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to ask it.
Sicheng, who had been slipping his phone back into his pocket, paused. He looked at her then. Really looked at her. At the way she was sitting just a little too still, her hands clenched slightly in her lap, her shoulders drawn inward not because she wasn't willing, but because she wasn't used to asking for this kind of reassurance. Something inside him shifted. He didn't lean back. Didn't exhale in amusement. Didn't brush it off like it was obvious. Instead, he answered her in the same way she had asked—quietly but firmly. "Yes."
Yao's breath hitched. She finally looked up, her hazel eyes wide, uncertain, searching his face like she needed to be sure he meant it.
"I'll be there." Sicheng held her gaze, unwavering.
Yao pressed her lips together, nodding slowly, like the weight of the moment was still settling over her.
Then—
A small exhale.
Not relief exactly, but something softer. Something less afraid. Sicheng didn't push her to say anything else. Didn't tell her why he would be there. Didn't tell her that the idea of her meeting his mother alone didn't sit right with him. Didn't tell her that after everything, after knowing she had been kept away from these connections, after knowing she had thought she was alone for so long, he wasn't about to let her walk into this moment without him. Because that part? She didn't need to ask. She would just know.
Later that day, as the team filed into the training room, Yao quietly settled into her usual workspace, her laptop open as she watched them begin their drills. She wasn't just watching, though. Her fingers moved swiftly over the keys, inputting real-time data, analyzing movement patterns, reaction times, decision-making under pressure. Her focus was sharp, entirely in her element as she cross-referenced past matches, identifying inconsistencies and weak spots before even the coach had time to bring them up. At first, she had just been assisting, offering quiet notes to Rui, helping their coach highlight problem areas. But the longer she watched, the more something irritated her.
They weren't listening.
Ming, calm and methodical as ever, took instructions well, but the others—especially Yue—were making adjustments half-heartedly, shifting strategies in a way that was sloppy rather than intentional.
The coach had already repeated himself twice.
And Yao, normally soft-spoken, normally hesitant to interfere, couldn't take it anymore. She snapped her laptop shut. Than, she stood and before she could think better of it, she marched right over to them, placed her hands firmly on her hips, and scowled. "Are you all even listening to him?!"
The room went dead silent.
Six pairs of wide eyes snapped toward her.
The coach, who had clearly been about to scold them himself, simply blinked in stunned silence.
Lao K froze mid-motion. Pang, who had been lazily stretching, straightened immediately. Even Yue, who had been half-distracted, suddenly stood at attention.
Because this?
This was new.
Yao, their usually quiet, shy analyst, was now standing in front of them, scolding them, her small frame tense with frustration, her hazel eyes sharp as she glared them all down. She looked like she was trying to be scary.
But instead?
Instead, all any of them could think was…she looks like an angry kitten. A rabbit trying to puff up to look threatening. A tiny little boss rabbit, ears twitching in absolute indignation.
And it was—
It was so unfairly cute that none of them knew what to do.
"Uh, Yao—" Lao Mao cleared his throat, fighting very hard to keep his expression neutral.
"No," she cut him off, her hands still firmly on her hips, not backing down in the slightest. "The coach is telling you exactly what you need to fix, and you're just half-assing it! If you're going to change your approach, you need to actually commit, not just go through the motions!"
The team blinked rapidly.
Yue, still very caught off guard, lifted a brow. "Uh—"
Yao turned on him next. "Especially you!" she pointed directly at him, her scowl deepening. "You've been ignoring the callouts the entire time! Stop playing on autopilot and actually think before you make your moves!"
Yue—who had never in his life been lectured by someone smaller than him—looked positively stunned.
Pang, who had been seconds from making a joke, bit his tongue.
Lao K, struggling to process, rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
Ming, the only one still composed, simply nodded and murmured, "She's right."
And Sicheng?
Sicheng, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching it all unfold, didn't say a word. Because he was too busy taking it in. The way her scowl deepened as she glared them all down, the way her stance was firm, her hands still on her hips as if she was physically keeping herself from shaking them all. She was dead serious.
And yet—
Yet she still looked like a small, furious kitten trying to bare its claws.
Sicheng let out a slow exhale, running a hand over his face before murmuring—just loud enough for the others to hear, "Adorable."
The moment the word left his mouth, Yao whipped her head toward him, her entire face heating up. "I—I am not trying to be cute!" she stammered, her anger now directed at him.
"Mm." Sicheng just tilted his head, his smirk growing.
Yue gasped dramatically. "Oh my god."
Lao Mao snorted. "I—I can't believe this is happening."
Pang, still struggling to keep it together, muttered, "I mean… he's not wrong."
Yao, realizing she had completely lost control of the conversation, let out a frustrated huff, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it directly at Yue before storming back to her desk.
It didn't hurt, obviously, but Yue flopped backward dramatically anyway. "Abuse! Abuse!"
Ming, shaking his head, sighed. "So are we actually going to listen now?"
Lao K, still very caught up in what had just happened, muttered, "Yeah… I think we probably should."
Yue, still lying on the floor, let out a long, suffering sigh. "Yeah, yeah… Let's listen before the tiny boss rabbit kills us."
Yao's eyebrow twitched. She had tried to ignore it. She had tried to just focus on her analysis, to let the coach handle the training session. But when Yue finally swapped out for a break—since he was only subbing for Ming, Sicheng stepped in to train with the others, and once again, she saw it.
The coach was terrified of scolding him.
It was painfully obvious.
Sicheng, as usual, was playing smoothly, effortlessly controlling the game, but she could tell he was half-assing it, going through the motions, barely making adjustments, not committing to any real changes.
And the coach?
The coach was hesitating, reluctant to say anything, probably because Lu Sicheng was, well… Lu Sicheng.
Yao gritted her teeth. Her fingers tightened against the edge of her laptop.
She inhaled, tried to let it go—
Then—
She didn't let it go. Instead, her eyes flashed, she grabbed the nearest object within reach—
A pillow.
And she launched it with deadly precision directly at the back of Sicheng's head.
A solid thud filled the room.
The entire team froze.
Sicheng, who had definitely not been expecting that, jerked forward slightly from the impact before going completely still.
For a second, no one spoke.
Then—
Lao K gasped. "Oh my god."
Pang, completely stunned, wheeze-laughed. "Did she—Did she just—"
Ming only lifted an eyebrow.
The coach looked absolutely horrified, as if he had just witnessed someone attack a king in his own domain.
And Yue?
Yue, fully entertained, collapsed onto the couch, howling in laughter. "I TAKE IT BACK—THE TINY BOSS RABBIT HAS NO FEAR."
Yao, hands on her hips, utterly unbothered, narrowed her eyes. "If you're going to play, then play properly."
Sicheng, still very still, exhaled slowly.
Then—
Without turning around, he reached down, picked up the pillow from the floor, and threw it back at her.
Hard.
"HEY—" Yao yelped, barely catching it in time.
Sicheng finally turned, amber eyes sharp, amused, but also undeniably challenging. "You wanna tell me how to play?" He tilted his head slightly, his smirk growing, his tone low and smooth, carrying something dangerous beneath it. "Then come play against me."
Silence.
The team lost their minds.
Lao Mao immediately sat up. "OH. OH, THIS IS HAPPENING."
Pang grinned, leaning forward. "Oh, yeah, we are watching this."
Yue, still laughing, waved his hand wildly. "I—I need popcorn. Someone get me popcorn—"
Yao, face heating, gritted her teeth. "I-I wasn't saying I could—"
"Scared?" Sicheng leaned forward slightly, his smirk turning lethal.
Yao's eye twitched.
Then—
She slammed the pillow onto the table.
"Fine."
A beat of silence.
Then—
Yue wheeze-laughed again. "*Oh, this is gonna be GOOD.""
Yao huffed, crossing her arms as she muttered under her breath, "According to you, I've already beaten you three times."
The room stilled.
Lao K blinked. "Wait—what?"
Pang frowned. "What do you mean already?"
Lao Mao squinted at her. "When have you two ever played against each other?"
Even Rui, who had been distracted by his tablet, snapped his head up, confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean by that? Yao, when have you beaten Cheng?"
Yue, who had been casually leaning back, suddenly shot forward, grinning. "Wait, wait, wait. You've played against my brother?"
Ming, who had been silent up until now, tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze flickering between Yao and Sicheng. His voice was calm, steady, but carrying a distinct weight. "That's an interesting claim, Tong Yao." He leaned forward slightly, arms crossed. "Care to prove it?"
Yao, not even sparing them a glance, marched over to the nearest gaming setup, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she logged in. And the second her account name flashed on the screen—
Yuki.
The room erupted.
Pang nearly fell out of his chair. "WAIT—WAIT—YOU'RE YUKI?!"
Lao K smacked the table. "THE YUKI?"
Yue gasped dramatically. "EXCUSE ME?!"
Even their coach, who rarely showed any strong reactions, let out a low whistle, clearly stunned.
Rui, their manager, looked at her as if she had just revealed she was a secret agent. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE YUKI?! Why did NO ONE KNOW THIS?!"
Ming's expression didn't change much, but his eyes sharpened, his mind clearly working through the implications. "…If she's Yuki, then she's beaten several professional players on alternate accounts." A pause, then he glanced at Sicheng, "Including you, apparently."
The room went dead silent.
Sicheng, entirely unfazed by the chaos unfolding around them, simply smirked, his amber eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Took you all long enough." Yao whipped around, glaring at him, but he didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "Alright then," he said smoothly, cracking his knuckles as he moved toward his own setup. "Let's see if you can make it happen once more."
Ming exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "This is… unexpected." His lips twitched slightly,. "But very interesting."
And Yao?
Yao squared her shoulders, ignored the absolute chaos behind her, and prepared to play against Lu Sicheng for the first time, officially.
The match started with the entire team gathered around, their focus locked on the screens as Yao and Sicheng loaded into the game.
No one spoke.
Even Yue, usually the loudest in the room, was quiet, his eyes flickering between the two of them, waiting.
Sicheng played as smoothly as ever, his movements precise, his strategy calculated. He wasn't holding back—not after Yao had challenged him so directly. His mechanics were clean, his map control dominant, and yet—
She kept up.
Not just kept up.
She read him.
Every time he tried to shift his strategy, she was already adapting, moving a step ahead. Her precision was uncanny, her plays seamless, and as the match went on, the realization started sinking in. She wasn't just playing well. She was winning.
Lao K had stopped breathing at some point.
Pang's grip tightened around his chair.
Lao Mao watched with a stunned expression on his face.
Ming, usually calm, sat slightly forward, his sharp gaze locked on the screen.
Yue's mouth was slightly open, his disbelief growing with every second.
And then—
The game ended.
Victory.
Silence.
Pure, stunned silence.
Yao slowly pulled her hands away from the keyboard, her hazel eyes flickering to the side, uncertain.
Sicheng leaned back in his chair, his amber gaze still locked on the screen, completely unreadable.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then—
Yue shattered the silence with a sharp inhale. "What the hell just happened?"
"She actually won." Lao K pointed at the screen, his voice somewhere between shock and admiration.
"Not just won. She outplayed him." Pang let out a breath, shaking his head.
"That wasn't luck. That was pure skill." Ming, still watching, exhaled slowly.
Rui looked like he was having an existential crisis. "We've been making her analyze our games while she's been capable of this the entire time?!"
Yao, her face warm, swallowed hard. "I-I mean… it was close—"
Yue turned to her now. "No, it wasn't!"
Lao Mao ran a hand over his face. "She actually beat Lu Sicheng. Our captain. The guy who almost never loses in one-on-ones."
The weight of what had just happened settled over the room.
Yao had just proven herself, completely and undeniably.
And Sicheng?
Sicheng, still quiet, finally leaned forward, his elbows resting against his knees as he tilted his head slightly. His gaze met hers, sharp and burning with something dangerous. And then, finally, he spoke. "Not bad."
Yao blinked rapidly. "W-What?"
His lips curled into something slow, something knowing. "But next time? I won't let you win." His voice dipped lower, carrying an unmistakable promise.
Yao's breath hitched.
And the team?
The team watched in real time as something shifted between them—something far bigger than just a match.
The weight of the match still hung thick in the air, the undeniable reality that Yao had just beaten Lu Sicheng leaving the entire team in stunned silence.
Until—
Yue, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a grin so wide it was nearly wicked. His eyes flickered toward his brother, then to Yao, and then, with the kind of smug amusement that only Yue could pull off, he quoted something with crisp accuracy.
"What kind of girl do I like? " He let the words linger for a moment before continuing, his voice smooth, calculated. "Didn't I tell you before? One who plays games better than me." The team barely had time to react before Yue kept going. "I'm not saying that she has to be better than me at Onmyoji Arena. It counts even if they're better than me at solving a Rubik's cube. But…" He paused, deliberately turning his gaze to Yao, then right back to Sicheng, his smirk widening. "If they're better than me at Onmyoji Arena, I'll marry them straight away."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Lao Mao choked.
Pang doubled over, smacking the table.
Ming actually looked up, his brows raising slightly in interest.
Rui whispered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
Lao K ran a hand over his face, exhaling in pure disbelief. "Oh. My. God."
Yao?
Yao whitened. Her face went up in flames, her fingers curling into her lap as her mouth opened—than closed—then opened again, completely and utterly lost for words.
Meanwhile, Sicheng, who had been leaning forward lazily in his chair just moments ago, stilled.
Completely.
For a second, he didn't react. Didn't acknowledge it.
Then—
Slowly, deliberately, his amber eyes slid toward Yue, his expression calm.
Too calm.
And Yue, knowing exactly what he had just done, grinned harder. "I'm just quoting you, Ge."
Sicheng exhaled deeply, his fingers flexing slightly against the armrest before he pushed himself back into a relaxed position, finally speaking. "…That interview was years ago."
"Doesn't mean it's not relevant now." Yue shrugged, still way too pleased with himself.
The team, who had no intention of letting this go, all turned toward Sicheng at the same time.
Pang smirked. "So… do we send out wedding invites now, or?"
Lao K snorted. "Give it a few more matches. You never know."
Ming, ever observant, hummed thoughtfully. "Fascinating turn of events."
And Yao?
Yao, still red as a tomato, covered her face with both hands. "I—can we not—"
Sicheng, exhaling sharply, finally turned to look at her. Her flushed face. Her flustered, completely overwhelmed expression. His lips curled slightly. Then, his voice smooth, slow, he murmured, "We'll see."
The team lost their minds.