Summary: What begins as a team dinner turns into something far more revealing as old boundaries blur and new ones are quietly, irrevocably drawn. Between flustered nicknames, quiet declarations, and a truth dropped without fanfare, the line between teasing and claiming vanishes—and the room learns, one stunned breath at a time, just how much weight silence can carry when it belongs to her.
Notes:
Author's Note: Never try to claim their nickname for their girl
Chapter Thirty-Two
The first official combined dinner night between ZGDX and YQCB unfolded like organized chaos, but with a strangely familial rhythm that settled over the base with surprising ease. Jinyang, taking her self-declared role as hostess far too seriously, had spared no effort in transforming ZGDX's large living room into a veritable feast zone, platters of food covering every available surface, from the central table to the side counters, with drinks chilling in massive coolers and enough snacks to feed an entire OPL bracket's worth of players.
The mood was loud, energetic, borderline overwhelming but only until Yao walked in. The moment she stepped into view, dressed in soft neutrals with Sicheng's hoodie over her form as well with her long platinum hair braided over one shoulder, the room didn't fall silent but it shifted. Subtly, but undeniably.
Liang Sheng, the composed, quietly formidable Captain and Support of YQCB, blinked once and tilted his head ever so slightly as if trying to recalibrate something in his mind. Rong, the Toplaner, immediately straightened his posture and nudged X-Bang sharply in the ribs, muttering something too low to catch but very clearly related to her presence. And X-Bang—the chaos incarnate Jungler—stared with wide eyes before blurting, "She's real?" in a tone of genuine disbelief, earning himself a hard slap to the chest from Jinyang and a chorus of laughter from the ZGDX boys.
But none of them denied it.
Because there was something about Yao—the quiet intelligence behind her gaze, the calm weight of her presence, the soft way she greeted them all with a bow of her head and a slightly flustered smile. And she didn't even realize it. Didn't realize that by the time she sat down on the edge of the couch, barely balancing a small plate in her lap and already half-engaged in a stats breakdown with Ming, the entire YQCB roster had made up their minds.
They were, without exception, utterly smitten.
Not romantically, though X-Bang did whisper something in mock agony about the tragedy of her already having a boyfriend and Liang Sheng warned him off with a flick of his chopsticks but as players, as professionals, as people who respected talent when they saw it. And the realization that this quiet girl, whose data analysis had already shaped some of the meta shifts between scrims, was the one behind several of ZGDX's off-meta strategies?
Yeah. That hit hard.
By the time the night settled into its second hour, with games launching on the side screens and people swapping stories and laughter over hot wings and dumplings, YQCB was no longer visiting.
They were part of it.
And Yao, curled up next Sicheng still brushing stray grains of rice off Da Bing's head with a soft huff of breath, didn't even notice the weight of it. She didn't need to. Because she already belonged.
The shift happened the moment Lao Mao, laughing as he nudged a dumpling toward Pang's plate, casually referred to Yao with the affectionate nickname that had somehow become canon within the ZGDX base walls—"Tiny Boss Bunny."
Yao, who had been mid-chew with her chopsticks raised and a steamed vegetable bun halfway to her mouth, froze. Her eyes flicked up, wide and mortified, cheeks blooming pink in a flash as she hissed under her breath, "Lao Mao!"
But it was already too late.
Across the table, X-Bang, who had been happily inhaling spring rolls and listening in with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, perked up instantly. "Tiny Boss Bunny?" he echoed, eyes lighting up in pure, unfiltered chaos. He turned toward Yao, grin spreading like wildfire. "That's adorable. I'm using that from now on."
Yao made a small, strangled noise, somewhere between a protest and a groan, ducking her head like she could physically disappear into her hoodie.
And the room?
The room went still for about two seconds.
Two seconds before every ZGDX boy collectively reacted like a pack of wolves hearing a stranger touch something that belonged firmly inside their den.
Lao Mao's chopsticks froze mid-air, expression deadpan but suddenly far too still.
Lao K shifted in his seat, brows lowering in quiet warning.
Pang set down his food, leaned forward slightly, and muttered, "You can't just go around claiming things that aren't yours, bro."
Ming let out a faint snort, but even he was no longer smiling.
And Yue—who had been lounging until that moment—straightened fully, folding his arms and eyeing X-Bang like he was calculating how much trouble he'd get into for launching a gyoza across the table at him.
But the worst came from the end of the couch.
Where Lu Sicheng, who had up until that point been unusually quiet, sipping his tea and watching the room with that familiar unreadable calm, slowly lowered his cup.
And looked at X-Bang.
One look.
That was it.
But it was cold.
Cold enough to freeze over any shred of warmth in the room. Cold enough that even Rong, who was mostly just trying to enjoy his skewers in peace, shifted nervously and muttered under his breath, "Bro...you're going to die."
X-Bang, caught mid-chew, blinked. Then blinked again. And very wisely, very carefully, lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay. Okay. I get it. Territorial wolves. Got it. Backing off."
Yao, now bright red, mumbled, "It's not even that serious—"
But she was silenced by a low hum from Sicheng, who leaned just a little closer, voice soft but unmistakably firm. "It is."
Across the room, Lee Kun Hyeok watched the entire scene play out with thinly veiled amusement, one arm draped over the back of the chair as he nursed his drink and didn't bother to hide his grin. Especially not when he caught the death glare his best friend was sending across the table, one so sharp, so unrelenting, that it could've flash-frozen lava mid-flow.
And Kun Hyeok?
He just raised his glass slightly toward Sicheng in mock salute, lips twitching. Because the message was loud and clear.
Yao wasn't just any Tiny Boss Bunny. She was theirs. And if anyone forgot that…well. They wouldn't forget twice.
It started innocently enough, with Rong—who had been mostly quiet through dinner, eyes focused more on the food than the people—glancing over at Yao between bites of his grilled fish. His tone was casual, almost curious in that offhanded way people asked things without realizing they were about to detonate something. "Hey, Yao," he said, voice easy, "do you play OPL at all? Or are you just a stats and data girl?"
Yao froze mid-sip of her tea.
There was a beat of silence before Jinyang—seated on one side of her and already halfway into her third glass of plum wine—snorted aloud and elbowed Ai Jia hard enough that he choked slightly on his dumpling. Across the room, the ZGDX boys reacted in perfect, synchronized fashion: snorts, muffled laughs, eye-rolls, and Pang letting out a long, theatrical sigh like he was gearing up to enjoy the coming storm.
Yue, practically vibrating with excitement now, was the first to fully engage. He leaned forward, elbow braced against the armrest of the couch as he grinned wide and jabbed his thumb toward Yao—who was now very clearly trying to make herself vanish behind his older brother's shoulder, which, given that Sicheng was broad but not that broad, wasn't working.
"You mean you've never met Yuki and Smiling?" Yue asked, his grin sharpening. "Man, you're in for it. Because that sweet, quiet, introverted girl you've been talking to like she doesn't bite? That's her. That's both of them."
The silence that followed was swift and absolute.
Liang Sheng blinked slowly, processing.
X-Bang tilted his head, confused. "Wait… Smiling? As in that Smiling? The one who smoked PZ's Mid two months ago?"
"Yep," Yue said, practically glowing now.
"And Yuki—"
"Same girl," Pang cut in helpfully, nodding. "Smoked them on two different smurfs. Same week. Same server."
Even Kun Hyeok, usually the calm and grinning chaos in any room, was frozen in place with his brows raised so high it was almost comical. "You're kidding." he muttered.
But the real blow came when Ming, quiet and deadly as always, leaned forward from where he was seated and, with the weight of absolute truth behind his voice, added flatly, "She's beaten Cheng. Multiple times."
Dead. Silence.
All eyes snapped to Sicheng, who sat there unmoving, expression unreadable—but the slow rise of one brow and the faintest twitch of his lips gave away more than enough.
Kun Hyeok, stunned and now very much staring at his best friend like he didn't know him, let out a breath that sounded vaguely like a laugh. Then, almost reverently, he muttered, "Lucky bastard."
Yao, now nearly crimson from the neck up, made a small squeak of protest and tried to hide her face behind her teacup but it was too late. There was no hiding anymore. Not from a room full of gamers who had just realized that the small, painfully polite girl in the oversized sweater with flushed cheeks and shy smiles…was a quiet, ruthless legend on the servers.
And Sicheng?
He didn't gloat. He didn't smirk. He just reached up and gently tugged the edge of her sleeve back into place, his hand lingering a second too long against hers as he looked at the others and said, with infuriating calm, "She's mine."
Yue nearly face-planted into his food laughing.
And the rest of them?
They accepted, in that moment, that this wasn't just their Tiny Boss Bunny. She was terrifying and they loved her for it.
Jinyang, who had just taken another sip of wine and was halfway through reaching for another dumpling, froze mid-motion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned her sharp gaze on her best friend like a predator locking onto prey. "Wait—what do you mean she smoked PZ's Mid two months ago?" she repeated slowly, clearly turning the information over as if trying to connect dots that had suddenly shifted beneath her. Then her brows furrowed, confusion deepening into suspicion as she looked directly at Yao, "When exactly did you pick back up the mouse? And more importantly—should I be worried? Are you planning to make a full return? Is ZGDX trying to poach you as a Midlaner and didn't tell anyone?"
Yao, who had already been flustered from the earlier conversation, promptly choked on her tea, her face turning several shades redder as she waved her hand quickly in front of her. "N-No! I'm not—I'm not going to be a Midlaner for any team," she said quickly, her voice high and embarrassed. "I'm happy with my work. I like being ZGDX's Data Analyst. That's all I want to do."
"Could've fooled me," Yue muttered, clearly not done with the teasing, but a sharp look from Sicheng silenced him just enough to keep Yao from combusting entirely.
Still fidgeting with the sleeve of her oversized sweater, Yao peeked up and added, softer now but firm, "Cheng-ge found out a few days after I started with ZGDX. He challenged me… and I didn't exactly win that first time, but it wasn't a clean loss either." That earned a hum of intrigue from Liang Sheng and a smirk from Kun Hyeok, but Yao wasn't done. "He told me not to stop playing just because I was afraid of how people would react to losing to me. He said I needed to do it for myself, that playing for fun again was a way to unwind, and that I didn't need to apologize for being good at something—just because someone else didn't like it."
The room quieted slightly, the weight of that truth settling in.
And from where he sat beside her, Lu Sicheng didn't speak. He didn't have to. The quiet pride in his eyes, the way his hand slid just slightly across the couch cushions to rest behind her shoulders, and the way his presence remained steady and certain—that said everything.
Jinyang, still watching with sharp eyes, finally huffed and leaned back with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like, "Okay, I might not kill him for this." Then, with a begrudging grin tugging at her lips, she looked at Yao again and added, "Just don't start training to be their Midlaner behind my back, or I will drag you to my analyst desk myself, to be my data bunny."
Yao, cheeks still flushed, could only nod, still too shy to answer. But beside her, Sicheng gave a rare, quiet smirk. Because whatever role she chose? She was theirs and no one in the room dared dispute it.
Rui cleared his throat with deliberate sharpness, the sound slicing clean through the low hum of conversation, drawing every gaze in the room with the same quiet authority he reserved for disciplinary meetings and monthly contract reviews. Adjusting his glasses, his expression shifted into one of mild irritation as he shot Jinyang a look that was half warning, half exhausted older brother who'd had more than enough chaos for one night. "For the record," he began, voice smooth but edged with absolute clarity, "ZGDX is not in the business of letting go of our Data Analyst." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "She is not transferable. She is not available. She is ZGDX's Tiny Boss Bunny and no one else's."
Jinyang opened her mouth—probably to argue, possibly to sass—but Rui was already stepping forward, lifting one hand as if to physically block the incoming verbal chaos.
"And before anyone even thinks of trying to poach her, or lure her into a dual role, or tempt her with shiny things and fond memories—" here, his eyes slid deliberately to Ai Jia and then to Chen Jinyang, "let me remind you of the last line of defense." He paused, giving it a full two beats for drama. "If someone crosses the line," he said calmly, "I will tattle to Madam Lu."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Yue visibly paled. Pang let out a strangled, "Oh no," under his breath. Lao Mao and Lao K both flinched like someone had just mentioned Voldemort's real name.
Even Kun Hyeok, who had been smugly enjoying the show, blinked once and muttered something distinctly respectful in Korean that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
Because everyone in that room, from rival team members to the most loyal of ZGDX's own, knew one simple truth: you don't mess with Lu Sicheng's girl. But more terrifying than that? You really don't mess with Madam Lu's girl.
Jinyang, ever the unrepentant menace, held up her hands in mock surrender, her eyes glittering with laughter. "Alright, alright, calm down, I'm not trying to kidnap her," she said with a grin. "I was just appreciating what an absolute monster she is with a mouse. You can keep your Tiny Boss Bunny."
But then she turned, winked at Yao, and added, "Just know if you ever want to switch teams for fun, I'll have a contract ready in under five minutes."
Sicheng's arm slipped around Yao's shoulder with casual, territorial ease, his gaze lazily locking onto Jinyang's with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Try it," he said smoothly, "and I'll call my mother myself."
That?
That was enough to end the conversation.
It was quiet for exactly three seconds after Sicheng's cool-toned warning, the atmosphere in the ZGDX living room still thick with the lingering echo of Madam Lu's looming wrath—and then, just as the tension began to ease, X-Bang, bless his clueless soul, decided to speak.
With all the innocent audacity of a man who hadn't spent the last thirty minutes witnessing Lu Sicheng's possessiveness in 4K resolution, he leaned casually back on the couch, one arm draped across the top and his gaze flicking toward Yao with the sort of easy, teasing grin that usually spelled trouble.
"So…" he began, his tone almost playful, like he was just musing aloud instead of tossing a live grenade into the middle of a landmine field. "Are you absolutely sure you want to settle on Chessman?"
The room went still.
"Because," X-Bang continued without fear, "he's what, seven years older than you? That's kind of a gap, no? I mean—wouldn't someone closer to your age be a better match? Maybe less... grumpy?"
The sound Pang made was somewhere between a wheeze and a strangled gasp, slapping a hand over his mouth as Yue audibly muttered, "Dead man walking," and began scooting his chair half an inch away from the source of the explosion.
Lao Mao groaned under his breath, not even trying to hide his wince, while Lao K slowly reached up and tilted the brim of his cap lower over his eyes, clearly not wanting to be a witness when the world inevitably burned.
Sicheng didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
But the slow, deliberate way he turned his head toward X-Bang was more terrifying than if he'd shouted. His amber eyes gleamed cold beneath the warm lights, mouth curving—not into a smile, but into something far more lethal.
Yao, who had flushed pink the second X-Bang had opened his mouth, looked completely and utterly mortified. Her fingers curled slightly into the hem of Sicheng's sleeve, and she opened her mouth to say something—to deflect, to correct, to soften the blow—but she never got the chance.
Because Sicheng finally leaned forward, his voice low and calm and carrying just enough of an edge to silence even the boldest scrim room challenger.
"Careful, X-Bang," he said, dragging out the syllables with a precision that felt like a scalpel. "You're not just toeing the line. You're triple jumping over it with a flag."
X-Bang blinked, caught between confusion and realizing far too late that he had said the wrong thing at the very wrong time.
Sicheng's arm slid a little tighter around Yao's shoulders, subtle but unmissable, his thumb brushing lightly against her collarbone in an unmistakable gesture of claim.
"She's already made her choice," he added smoothly. "And unless you want to find out what losing really feels like—maybe keep your opinions about what she should want to yourself."
Jinyang, watching from across the room with her usual air of dangerous amusement, just smirked as she leaned into Ai Jia's shoulder and whispered, "Told you—possessive. Like a wolf with one bone and no interest in sharing."
"More like a dragon," Ai Jia muttered. "Gold-hoarding and fire-breathing."
Yao, still flushed and hiding somewhere behind her hair, peeked up only to be met with Kun Hyeok's highly entertained expression. The man sipped his drink slowly and quipped with a small shrug, "Just sayin', you could start a war with less."
X-Bang—now very aware that he had, in fact, almost started one—raised both hands in surrender, lips twitching.
"Alright, alright. I'll behave," he muttered. "Didn't realize this was a no-flirting zone."
"It's a no-dying-by-Captain's-hands zone," Pang muttered, still recovering. "Big difference."
And with that, peace was slowly, carefully restored.
But only because no one else was foolish enough to test Lu Sicheng's territorial limits twice in one night.
Jinyang, who had been comfortably lounging against Ai Jia's side with her bare feet curled under her on the plush rug, turned slightly toward Yao with that familiar glint of curiosity lighting her gaze—mischievous, sharp, but always affectionate. "Yao'er," she called sweetly, though everyone knew that tone meant she was about to demand information. "Any word yet on when your dissertation defense is happening?"
Yao, seated quietly beside Sicheng, blinked at the sudden question, her fingers lightly adjusting the hem of her oversized ZGDX sweater as all eyes turned toward her. She shook her head gently. "No. Not yet. The committee said they're still finalizing dates for the next wave of defenses. I should hear soon."
Her voice was soft, but the impact was immediate.
Across the room, the boys from YQCB—Liang Sheng, Rong, and X-Bang—visibly froze. Rong tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. Liang blinked slowly. X-Bang, who had only just recovered from his earlier near-death experience via Captain Chessman, gawked slightly.
"You're defending a dissertation?" Rong echoed.
"Wait," X-Bang added, trying to backtrack from his earlier foot-in-mouth incident. "You're doing a Ph.D.?"
Yao nodded, ducking her head a little as if she could disappear into the threads of Sicheng's jacket beside her. "Data Analysis and Technology with a cross-disciplinary certification in Strategic Gaming Metrics… for OPL systems," she explained softly, her words coming out precise but humble.
Even Kun Hyeok, who had been leaning back lazily against the armrest of the couch with a half-smile on his lips, sat up straighter. "That's—" he started, then stopped. "Wait, that's serious. That's real research."
"It's not just data science," Jinyang added proudly, cutting in before anyone could make the mistake of underestimating her best friend again. "Her entire focus is on creating adaptive predictive algorithms for professional-level E-sports—especially within OPL structures and cross-team compatibility."
"Wait, that's like… data tracking for professional strategy shifts, right?" Liang Sheng asked, blinking at her like she had grown a second head. "That's not just grad student stuff."
Ai Jia nodded with a knowing smirk. "Told you all she wasn't just smart. She's scary smart."
But it was what Yao said next that knocked the breath out of the room.
"I centered my primary case study on Captain-level strategic development and behavioral shift under external pressure," she murmured, almost to herself. And then, still looking down at her fingers where they fiddled with a thread at her cuff, she added, "I used Chessman as my subject."
The silence was immediate.
Dead and thick.
Like someone had just paused the entire world.
Liang Sheng's jaw visibly dropped. Rong's mouth opened slightly, and X-Bang slowly turned his head to stare at Sicheng, who—without missing a beat—tilted his head with a look so smug and satisfied it could have been painted on the damn ceiling of the Louvre.
Kun Hyeok just groaned and leaned back again, dragging a hand down his face. "And here I thought I was the favorite," he muttered.
Sicheng, still radiating pride like a nuclear reactor, slid an arm lazily around Yao's shoulders, tugging her just slightly closer to his side without saying a word. He didn't have to. The look on his face said it all.
She chose him.
For the foundation of her work.
For her career.
For something permanent.
And the rest of them? They could choke on it.
Pang snorted from the other couch, whispering to Yue, "He's going to ride this high for months."
Yue smirked. "He's already unbearable. We're doomed."
But none of that mattered to Yao, who remained quietly nestled against her Captain, unaware of the storm she had just dropped so casually into the middle of the room.
Because for her, it wasn't about showing off.
It was simply the truth.
Liang Sheng, still staring at Yao with a mixture of incredulity and genuine admiration, tilted his head as if trying to make sense of everything all over again. "When did you even start this research?" he asked, voice low with curiosity, though there was a slight note of awe threading through.
Yao hesitated, her lashes dropping as she fiddled with the end of her sleeve again. "Since before I knew anyone but two people, in this room," she admitted quietly, her voice just above a whisper. "Before I ever met the guys from ZGDX…."
The room blinked.
Then Kun Hyeok, who had been mid-sip of his drink, lowered his cup and gave his best friend a look so deadpanned it nearly cracked the air in half. He pointed directly at Sicheng. "What the actual hell are the odds," he said flatly, "that you—not only meet, but get with—a woman who used you as her case study before she even knew you existed?" He didn't stop there. "She understands OPL. She plays it. She enjoys it. And she picks you of all people—Lu 'I-have-one-expression-and-it's-scary' Sicheng—as her subject and her boyfriend?" He sat back with a dramatic sigh and muttered, "What ungodly, astronomical, one-in-a-billion luck is that… and can I have some?"
Yue wheezed, unable to contain the burst of laughter that slipped out. Pang cackled. Lao Mao shook his head with a smirk, already muttering under his breath about Sicheng needing to be nerfed. Even Jinyang was snickering, elbowing Ai Jia and whispering, "Told you our girl was terrifying."
But the only one who didn't move?
Sicheng.
He just leaned back, arm draped across the back of the couch behind Yao, eyes gleaming with smug pride and something warmer, deeper. He didn't need to say a word. Because she had picked him. Before she even knew him. And for someone like Lu Sicheng, who rarely left anything to fate, that kind of inevitability tasted a whole lot like destiny.
Ai Jia, still grinning from the last round of banter, leaned forward with his arms draped over his knees, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he looked straight at Yue. "Alright, I've got to ask—where the hell did Tiny Boss Bunny even come from? I keep hearing it and now half the room is using it like it's her official title."
Yue's grin went wide with mischief as he tilted his head toward Yao, who was already starting to flush again. "Ah, that would be my doing," he declared proudly, ignoring the narrowed look his older brother shot him. "It started the first week she moved in."
"She scolded us," Pang jumped in, his tone theatrical as he raised his hands like he was recounting a legendary moment in history. "Like actually stood there, all of five foot three of her, arms crossed and glaring. Trying to act terrifying."
Lao Mao chuckled, arms folded as he leaned against the back of the couch. "Keyword: trying. She was so serious. But all I could think was—damn, she looks like an angry bunny guarding a carrot patch."
"She stomped her foot," Ming added, deadpan, nodding solemnly. "It was the tiniest stomp I've ever seen. But she meant it."
Lao K, usually more reserved, gave a rare smirk. "She twitches her nose when she's trying not to yell. Just like a bunny. Can't unsee it now."
"She chews on the sleeves of her jacket when she's annoyed," Yue offered, practically vibrating with glee now. "And she glares like she's about to bite, but her face is still baby soft. Like a puffball with attitude."
"She's the shortest one in the entire base," Pang finished, pointing his chopsticks toward Yao like he was presenting evidence in court. "But somehow manages to boss around all of us—and make it stick."
Yao groaned, dragging her hands over her face, fully red by now as she muttered, "I hate all of you."
Sicheng, who had been silently enjoying the chaos from where he sat with his arm around her, just leaned in and murmured next to her ear, his voice low and warm, "You love us."
Yao let out a long suffering sigh but didn't move away.
"I especially love when she hops down the stairs in the morning," Yue added shamelessly. "Still half-asleep. Barefoot. Hair a mess. Da Bing right behind her like a fluffy bodyguard."
"You all named me after a rabbit because I'm short?!" Yao accused flatly, glaring at the lot of them.
"No," Sicheng corrected smoothly, thumb brushing against her shoulder, "We named you that because you're fierce, adorable, and you bite when cornered."
"And because you're ours," Pang added, softer now, genuine. "ZGDX's one and only Tiny Boss Bunny."
The room fell quiet for just a second.
Then Kun Hyeok, arms folded as he watched the whole thing with deep amusement, muttered under his breath, "I really should've poached her."
Sicheng didn't even turn. He just reached out, grabbed a pillow off the couch, and lobbed it at his best friend's face without missing a beat.
It happened so fast that most of the room didn't even register it until it was too late.
Yao, cheeks pink, shoulders hunched just slightly from the relentless teasing, gave a small sigh, like the last threads of her patience had been frayed. Her fingers curled into the hem of her sweater, her lashes lowered as she shifted just slightly toward the one person she knew wouldn't let the teasing go too far.
And then, in the softest, most disarmingly plaintive voice, she tilted her head up, blinked those impossibly big hazel eyes, and murmured one word—
"Cheng-ge."
The effect was immediate.
A silence unlike anything that had preceded it fell over the room.
Kun Hyeok, who had just recovered from being clocked by a couch pillow, visibly froze with his mouth still half-open.
Yue dropped his cup.
Pang made a choking sound that could've easily been mistaken for someone swallowing their soul.
Lao Mao and Lao K both went stock-still, wide-eyed like two statues caught mid-movement.
Even Jinyang, who had been reaching for a spring roll, froze with her chopsticks hovering halfway to her mouth.
Because that voice—soft, sweet, exhausted, and yet so unmistakably possessive—wasn't something any of them had ever heard from her. Not toward Sicheng. Not like that.
And Lu Sicheng?
Lu Sicheng didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
For a full two seconds, he just looked at her, stunned silent, as if the universe had short-circuited around that single syllable.
Because that wasn't just her calling his name.
That was her choosing him.
In front of everyone.
Unashamed.
Unapologetic.
His jaw shifted slightly, a single tick, and then he exhaled very, very slowly, like a man trying to remember that he still needed oxygen to live. And then, with no regard for the stunned crowd around them, he reached over and gently slid his hand into hers—intertwining their fingers with a quiet finality that made the message resound through the room louder than any shout.
Mine.
Lu Sicheng caved.
The moment her lower lip pushed out ever so slightly, a faint, unintentional pout curling across her expression as her hazel eyes blinked up at him with all the innocent weaponization of someone who absolutely did not know how dangerous she looked when she did it, he gave up. Entirely.
There wasn't a force in the room or on the planet strong enough to keep him from snapping to attention.
And so—still holding her hand, his thumb brushing along the back of it in a silent, steady rhythm that barely concealed the territorial simmer running beneath his skin—he turned his head with slow, deliberate control and leveled the room with a look so sharp it could've cracked steel.
"Alright," he said, his voice low, edged in lethal calm, "the next person who teases my Xiǎo tùzǐ for the rest of the night?"
He paused just long enough to let the weight settle, to let the room feel that shift from possessive to predator.
"Can deal with me."
Dead silence. Again.
Kun Hyeok, now fully sprawled in an armchair with a drink in hand, lifted both brows and muttered, "Yeah, I'm out. I like my bones unbroken."
Yue, already halfway through opening his mouth to say something no doubt reckless, slowly turned and sank further into the couch with a grimace. "Bro, she used the Bambi eyes. We didn't stand a chance."
Pang threw his hands up in mock surrender, his mouth twitching. "I've known him for three years and he's never threatened me for anyone. I'm gonna shut up and eat."
Even Jinyang, smug as ever, leaned into Ai Jia's side with a grin and stage-whispered, "That was kind of hot, not gonna lie."
And through all of it, Yao sat frozen, still pink, still shy, still overwhelmed—her eyes wide as she tried to figure out what had just happened while her hand stayed in his, fingers curled between his like that was their natural state.
Sicheng didn't look at anyone else again. He only glanced down at her, expression softening into something quieter, something deeper, something that left no doubt. This wasn't teasing anymore. This was a claim. And it was final.
The room had slowly melted into the soft hum of movie night, the overhead lights dimmed, comforters thrown over couches and floor cushions dragged out for extra lounging space as ZGDX and YQCB mixed together in a surprisingly easy rhythm. It wasn't often both teams shared one space without scrims or competition hanging over them, and it had taken Jinyang all of ten minutes and an open buffet of food to get everyone relaxed.
Someone had queued up a movie, something light and old, while conversations buzzed at low volume around the room. Jinyang, stretched across one side of the couch with Ai Jia's arm slung lazily around her waist, turned her head with a dreamy sigh and said, "God, I rewatched Titanic last week and it still gets me. That scene where she's standing at the edge of the ship and he comes up behind her? Ugh, it's cinematic perfection. Just... tragic, romantic, all-consuming love."
Before Ai Jia could launch into his usual complaints about that particular film, a quieter voice cut across the room—soft, hesitant at first, but unmistakably pointed.
"I think Titanic is one of the most useless, glorified betrayals ever put on screen."
Silence fell.
Every pair of eyes swung toward Yao, who sat curled into one side of the couch, knees drawn up and her head slightly turned toward the others, but her tone? That carried none of her usual softness. No, this was precise. Controlled. Measured logic wrapped in unmistakable disdain. And it had the full attention of everyone.
Jinyang blinked. "I—what?"
Yao, flustered but firm, continued, her fingers fiddling lightly with the edge of her sleeve. "Rose DeWitt Bukater boarded the Titanic with her fiancé, Cal Hockley, and her mother, Ruth. Her mother was pressuring her into the marriage to resolve their family's financial problems. Which... okay, that's awful. But Rose never even tried to see if she and Cal could make it work. She hated him from the start." She paused, frown tugging at her lips. "I can accept that Cal was arrogant, controlling, and possessive. But he was also a man willing to marry her and take on her family's entire financial burden—something most wouldn't do, especially back in 1912. He was in love with her, even if it was unhealthy, and she never even tried to respect that."
Jinyang blinked again. "Wait—are you defending Cal ?"
"No," Yao said immediately. "I'm not defending him . I'm saying Rose didn't even attempt loyalty. She was engaged. And just because she felt trapped, she ran into Jack Dawson's arms. A man she knew for what? A few days?"
Yue sat up straighter, watching with something dangerously close to pride as she kept going.
"She slept with Jack. In the back of a car. While she was still engaged to Cal. And I'm sorry, but that's not romance. That's betrayal."
Rong muttered a stunned, "Holy shit."
Yao pushed on, her voice low, analytical, but heated with conviction. "They lived in 1912. Arranged marriages were normal. And women in her social position were expected to be loyal, to at least try. But instead, she threw herself at someone else because it felt good to rebel, and the film turns that into some epic, undying love story? It's a glorification of infidelity. That's not romantic. That's... cowardice dressed up in tragedy."
Kun Hyeok stared, jaw open slightly, until finally he looked at Sicheng and muttered, "She really said all that with one breath?"
Lao Mao just blinked, then grinned wide. "Our Tiny Boss Bunny's got fangs."
Pang let out a low whistle. "That's the most savage takedown of Titanic I've ever heard."
Yue, leaning forward, whispered loudly, "You just ruined the love story of an entire generation and I've never been prouder."
Sicheng didn't say a word at first. He just looked at her. Completely silent. Completely still. Until he leaned over, brushed his hand gently down her hair, and said in the most satisfied voice the room had ever heard—
"Marry me."
Yao squeaked, turned bright red, and immediately ducked behind his shoulder to hide, the room exploding into laughter while Jinyang gaped, Ai Jia choked on his water, and Kun Hyeok groaned, "Okay yeah, I'm definitely not finding someone like that in my lifetime."
And that was how the movie night turned into something else entirely—
The night Titanic died.
And Lu Sicheng's love story got stronger.
Still partially hidden behind the broad line of Sicheng's shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie and the chorus of laughter still fading around them, Yao muttered one final thing, her tone both sheepish and sharp, the lingering edge of her earlier fire curling around the words like smoke.
"This is why I hate romance movies."
And though it was quiet, it wasn't lost.
Because every single person in the room—ZGDX, YQCB, even Kun Hyeok still recovering from secondhand heartbreak—heard it.
Pang wheezed.
Lao Mao choked on his drink.
Yue nearly fell off the beanbag trying not to laugh too loudly.
And Sicheng?
He looked like a man ready to build her an altar. Without looking at anyone, still shielding her as she pressed deeper into his side, he smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement and pride, before lazily remarking, "And that, gentlemen, is exactly why she's mine."
Yao groaned softly into his sleeve, but didn't deny it. Not once.