Summary: Through laughter, battles, and belonging, Yao steps fully into the life she was destined to create. No longer on the outside looking in, she claims her place beside ZGDX—and in the heart of the man who had always seen her future written in the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A month passed in a blur of training sessions, wedding preparations, and barely-contained chaos as Ai Jia survived "Open Season" —if just barely—thanks to a very smug and thoroughly entertained Yao refusing to call off the wolves.
And now, finally, it was here.
The day of Jinyang's wedding.
The sunlight poured golden and soft over the sprawling garden estate her family had chosen for the ceremony, the grounds a dream of white chairs, ivy-covered trellises, and arching sprays of late-summer flowers in every direction. Guests filled the space with the low hum of conversation, laughter threading warmly through the heavy, sweet air. At the front of it all, the aisle stretched long and perfect—leading straight to a flower-laden arch where Ai Jia already stood, pale but smiling, shifting nervously in his finely cut black suit as he spoke lowly with the officiant.
The music shifted, signaling the procession.
The guests turned, a soft murmur of anticipation running through the seated rows.
And from the grand doors at the end of the aisle….
Yao stepped forward.
The breath caught quietly across the crowd.
She wore a deep mint strapless gown of flowing chiffon, the fabric moving like water around her legs with every step she took. The bodice hugged her slender frame perfectly, the soft drape of the chiffon cascading down from the cinched waist in easy, elegant ripples. Her hair, usually left wild and free, was swept up into an intricate twist at the back of her head, a few delicate tendrils left loose to frame her face. Her makeup was soft but polished, subtle smoky tones that made her ice-blue eyes stand out vividly, catching the light like rare gemstones, a soft flush to her cheeks, and her lips painted a muted, natural rose. There was no nervousness in her step. No hesitation. Only calm, quiet pride and a steady, warm glow that made her seem to glide more than walk.
Sicheng, standing to the side among the groomsmen, barely remembered to breathe. His hand tightened slightly into a fist at his side, a slow, burning ache twisting low in his chest as he watched her approach. She wasn't his bride. Not yet. But standing there—lit by the sun, her head held high, her every step filled with quiet grace. She might as well have been. And every bone in his body knew, without doubt, without hesitation. She was it. She always had been.
Yao moved steadily down the aisle, her bouquet of soft green and cream blooms cradled lightly in her hands. She caught Sicheng's gaze as she passed, just a brief glance. But it was enough. Her ice-blue eyes locked with his, bright and steady, carrying a weight of promise that made his heart clench painfully tight in his chest. Her lips curved into the smallest, softest smile. A private smile. A silent vow. And then she moved past, reaching the front, where she took her place off to the side, standing proud and glowing as the ceremony continued.
Jinyang followed soon after, radiant in white, tears already sparkling in her eyes as she locked onto Ai Jia at the end of the aisle.
The ceremony unfolded like something out of a dream.
Vows whispered.
Hands clasped.
Rings exchanged with trembling fingers and tearful laughter.
And through it all.
Yao stood steady. Watching her sister claim her happiness. Feeling the heavy, sweet weight of her own happiness humming just beneath her skin, rooted deep in her bones.
When the vows were done and the kiss sealed, the cheers that went up shook the very air.
And somewhere, across the sea of people, Sicheng caught her gaze again. This time, he didn't look away. Neither did she. And though neither of them said it aloud, It was there. Clear. Certain.
They were next.
The reception glowed under a ceiling of fairy lights strung between the trees, casting the entire garden in a soft, golden haze that made the world feel smaller, closer, more infinite somehow. Laughter rang across the lawn, glasses clinking, the band playing low and sweet under the buzz of conversation. Long tables were laden with food, flowers spilling over the edges of vases, and everywhere there was the bright, unrestrained hum of celebration, the kind that filled your lungs until you thought you might float away.
Yao moved easily through it all, the skirt of her mint dress fluttering around her ankles, her bare feet silent on the grass as she helped navigate Jinyang through greeting guests, accepting congratulations, and avoiding the more determined, intoxicated relatives.
Sicheng watched from a distance at first, leaning lazily against one of the stone columns by the edge of the dance floor, a glass of whiskey held loosely in one hand. He didn't rush her. Didn't interrupt. He just waited. The same way he always had. The same way he always would.
When Jinyang and Ai Jia were finally swept into the center of the dance floor for their first dance, Yao slipped away, her steps light, almost instinctive, weaving through the laughing crowds toward the edge of the garden.
Toward him.
Sicheng caught her hand as she passed him, his fingers sliding through hers without hesitation, the simple contact sending a warm, grounding jolt through both of them. She turned easily into him, the soft chiffon of her dress brushing against the crisp lines of his black suit, her ice-blue eyes lifting to meet his.
No words.
No need.
The music shifted, slow and lazy, a melody that wrapped around them like a heartbeat.
Without speaking, Sicheng guided her out onto the dance floor, one hand finding the small of her back, the other curling her hand securely in his.
Yao slid her free hand up along the firm line of his shoulder, her touch light, sure.
The rest of the world faded away.
The laughter.
The clinking glasses.
The low murmur of the crowd.
All of it dimmed until there was only the feel of him beneath her fingertips, the slow, certain sway of their bodies moving together under the warm spill of fairy lights.
Sicheng pulled her closer, close enough that there was barely space between them, his hand firm at her waist, his forehead dipping down until it brushed lightly against hers. "You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and rough against her ear.
Yao smiled, small and real, her fingers tightening slightly against his shoulder. "So do you," she whispered back.
They moved in slow circles, the world bleeding soft and golden around them, the music threading between their bodies like a promise.
Sicheng's thumb brushed slow, lazy arcs against her hip, his other hand squeezing hers just slightly. He wanted to say it. Wanted to tell her how every moment without her had felt like standing still. How every second with her now felt like breathing for the first time. But he didn't rush it. Didn't need to. Because she already knew.
She could feel it in the way he held her, steady and unshakable, as if letting go wasn't even an option. And in return, Yao rested her forehead against his shoulder, breathing him in, anchoring herself to the only thing she had ever been completely certain of.
Sicheng's thumb brushed slow, lazy arcs against Yao's hip, the muted sounds of the celebration blurring to a distant hum around them. He didn't need to ask her to come with him. She already had. The off-season had only given them the rare chance to breathe, to carve out a piece of life between tournaments and expectations and the constant pull of the world. And here she was. Here they were. Not chasing after something anymore. Just living it.
Sicheng leaned down, his forehead brushing lightly against hers again, breathing her in like he needed her more than oxygen. "You're already home," he murmured, the words low and rough against her skin, not asking, not promising, just saying it because it was the truth.
Yao smiled against his shoulder, a soft breath of a laugh slipping free, her fingers curling lightly into the back of his jacket. "Always." she whispered.
They stayed there, moving in slow, lazy circles under the fairy lights, the night soft around them, the future steady and wide-open in front of them. It didn't matter what came next. Training camps. New seasons. Hard battles. It didn't matter, because they had already survived everything that could've torn them apart and instead, they had built something unshakable between them. Something the world could not touch. When the music shifted again, lifting into something livelier, they finally broke apart—only just—Sicheng's hand sliding down to catch Yao's fingers in his, lacing them tightly together.
As they made their way off the dance floor, back toward the rest of their chaotic, wonderful, infuriating family, Da Bing let out a soft, imperious chirp from his throne-like perch, his blue eyes half-lidded with regal boredom.
Yao laughed, reaching out with her free hand to scratch gently behind his ears as they passed. "Don't worry," she teased the spoiled prince. "Your loyal subjects are still here."
Da Bing flicked his tail once, deeply unimpressed, before curling back up with all the self-satisfaction of a king whose empire was secure.
Sicheng watched her, watched the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the way she moved so easily now, so freely and felt the familiar, grounding weight settle deep in his chest.
His.
Already.
Always.
And as the night wore on, filled with laughter, toasts, drunken confessions, and terrible attempts at dancing, Yao and Sicheng stayed right there.
Together.
Exactly where they were meant to be.
A week later, the team gathered in the lounge after a long afternoon of scrims, the leftover buzz of competition still lingering in the air.
Da Bing sprawled across the top of the couch like a bored little emperor, one paw flicking lazily at Pang's head whenever he got too loud.
Ming and Rui stood near the big flat-screen, looking suspiciously official, arms crossed, identical unreadable expressions on their faces.
Sicheng leaned back into the couch, one arm thrown lazily over the back, sharp-eyed and already half-suspecting something was up.
Yue stretched, yawning loudly, and Pang rummaged through a bag of snacks without a clue in the world.
Ming cleared his throat. "We have an announcement," he said, in that deceptively casual tone that immediately set every man in the room on edge.
Rui adjusted his glasses, tapping his tablet lightly against his palm. "We're getting a new Data Analyst," he added.
Instant silence.
Sicheng sat up straighter immediately, the lazy line of his body sharpening into something razor-edged. "Excuse me?" he said, voice calm but carrying the unmistakable snap of a man who was not pleased. "And why wasn't I informed about this? I'm in charge of the board," he added, his voice like ice wrapped in velvet. "This should've gone through me."
Ming, to his credit, didn't flinch. He just shrugged, almost lazily. "It did," he said. "Through a higher channel."
Sicheng narrowed his eyes. "Who."
Ming smirked slightly. "Your grandfather."
A beat.
Sicheng's mouth tightened slightly at the corners.
Before he could speak, Rui called over his shoulder, his voice carrying easily across the room: "You can come in now."
The door cracked open.
Boots clicked lightly against the floor.
Yao walked in. Wearing black cargo pants tucked into sturdy black boots, a sleek black ZGDX shirt hugging her frame with the team's name emblazoned proudly across her chest. Her chocolate hair was pulled back into a high, messy ponytail, a few wisps escaping to frame her ice-blue eyes, which gleamed with wicked amusement. She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking one hip out, a smirk curving her mouth as she took in the stunned, frozen group of boys sprawled across the couches.
Yue was the first to find his voice loud, high, and scandalized. "No. Damn. Way!" he squawked, pointing at her like she had just personally insulted the foundations of reality. "What about you being the live-in lawyer?!"
Yao snorted, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off her sleeve. "I am still the terrifying lawyer," she said sweetly. "I've still got the degree. Still passed the bar. I can still ruin your lives with one strongly-worded letter."
Pang whimpered dramatically.
"But," Yao continued, her voice sharpening into something brighter, more excited, "I'm taking a break from all that for now." She shrugged easily, her smirk growing as she took in their still-stunned faces. "Law's been my whole life since I started college," she said. "It's time to be part of the team in a different way." Her eyes flicked pointedly to the ZGDX logo across her chest. "Time to fight beside you in a way that's a little more... fun."
Da Bing, still perched atop the couch, let out a loud approving chirp, his tail flicking proudly as if claiming credit for the entire announcement.
Sicheng stood slowly, his body loose but his eyes locked onto her like gravity itself. He didn't smile. Didn't smirk. He just moved toward her with the slow, steady certainty of a man who had never once doubted she would find her way deeper into his world. And she had. Without asking permission. Without needing it. She was theirs now. In every way that mattered. In every way that counted. And God help anyone who tried to take her away from them again.
For a long, suspended second, the room stayed frozen, the boys blinking at her like she had sprouted wings—or horns.
And then—
Chaos.
Yue threw his hands into the air dramatically, whirling on Pang with wide, horrified eyes. "We're dead," he declared loudly. "We're so, so dead."
Pang clutched his chest like he'd been shot, staggering back into the couch with a pitiful groan. "She's got the law and the spreadsheets now!" he wailed. "There's no escape!"
Lao Mao snorted under his breath, arms crossed, clearly amused but not unsympathetic.
Lao K just shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing for the coming apocalypse.
Rui adjusted his glasses and smiled in a way that was far too pleased, already opening his tablet to make notes. "Finally," he said in a voice that carried all the smugness of a man who had waited a long time for this day. "We have someone who will properly scare them into shape."
Ming sipped his tea with the lazy, satisfied air of a man watching all his dreams come true without lifting a finger.
Yao smiled sweetly, too sweetly. The kind of sweet that promised doom. She sauntered forward, stopping just short of where Pang and Yue were pretending to cower behind Da Bing, who, to his credit, looked entirely unbothered as he lounged across the couch. "You boys act like this is bad news," she said, her voice dripping with innocent cruelty.
Pang peeked out from behind the kitten, his voice tremulous. "You mean it's not?"
Yao tilted her head, her ice-blue eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "I mean," she said, savoring every word, "I'm going to make sure you're in perfect condition for the season."
Yue whimpered. "She's gonna build spreadsheets," he moaned. "There will be schedules. There will be statistics. There will be, " He dropped his voice into a horrified whisper, "performance reviews."
Sicheng, standing off to the side now, smirked lazily, arms folded across his chest as he watched his team implode with a level of fondness he didn't even try to hide. "Better start stretching," he offered helpfully. "She does have all your weaknesses documented now."
Pang groaned like he was in mortal agony. "She's weaponized data!"
Yao laughed, a soft, dangerous sound and reached down to scratch Da Bing under the chin, her hair catching the light like fire, her black ZGDX shirt molding perfectly to her frame. "Don't worry," she said brightly. "I'll be gentle." Pause. "Mostly."
Yue grabbed Pang's arm. "Bro," he whispered urgently. "We need to run."
Pang nodded, wide-eyed.
Yao straightened, folding her arms across her chest again, her ZGDX logo bold against the black fabric. "You can try," she said sweetly. "And you can suffer."
The entire room burst into laughter—loud, full, chaotic—the kind that filled the entire base with a warmth no spreadsheet or training plan could ever contain.
Sicheng's gaze never left her. Not once. Because it didn't matter what title she carried. Didn't matter if it was Analyst, Lawyer, Teammate, or something far deeper. She was one of them now. Part of the team. Part of the family. And the way she moved across the room—laughing, teasing, belonging—made it clear to everyone who ever doubted: Yao wasn't just part of ZGDX. She was ZGDX. And they wouldn't have it any other way.
Later that night, after the chaos of dinner and the impromptu "Welcome Officially to the Staff" party had settled into a warm hum of music and laughter, Yao slipped outside onto the back terrace for a breath of quieter air.
The sky was velvet dark above her, stars pricking sharp and bright across the heavens, the distant hum of the city blending into a soft, endless hush.
She leaned against the railing, the cool metal grounding her, the night breeze threading through her loose hair, brushing soft fingers against her cheeks. The door behind her clicked open and shut again. She didn't have to turn to know it was him.
Sicheng's presence wrapped around her like gravity itself—heavy, inevitable, safe. Without a word, he moved in behind her, the heat of his body a steady anchor as he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back gently against his chest.
For a long moment, they just stood there.
Breathing.
Existing.
No titles.
No obligations.
Just them.
"You were amazing tonight," he murmured into her hair, his voice low and rough, threading through her like a second heartbeat.
Yao smiled faintly, her hands finding his and lacing their fingers together over her stomach. "You're just saying that because you like the idea of me making spreadsheets about Yue's sleep schedule," she teased quietly.
Sicheng huffed a soft, amused breath against her ear. "Maybe," he admitted. "But mostly," he said, his voice dipping lower, turning quieter, "because I like seeing you claim your place." He turned her gently in his arms until she was facing him, her hands braced lightly against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart beneath her palms. He looked down at her, the lines of his face softened by the faint golden light spilling from the windows behind them, the weight of something deeper burning steady in his amber eyes. "You're a part of this team now," he said, his voice even, sure. "You're part of this family." He leaned down, his forehead pressing lightly against hers, their breaths mingling in the small, sacred space between them. "But before you were ZGDX," he whispered, his hands tightening gently against her waist, "you were already mine."
The words hung in the air between them, soft but unshakable, a truth that rang deeper than any ceremony or contract or title could ever touch.
Yao closed her eyes briefly, letting it wash over her, her chest tightening with something so full, so bright it felt almost too big to contain. She tipped her head back slightly, just enough to brush her lips against his, soft and sure. "Always," she whispered.
Sicheng kissed her back, slow and deep, sealing the word between them with the kind of certainty that needed no further promises.
Around them, the world kept spinning.
The team kept laughing inside.
Da Bing surely ruled the couch like the little prince he was.
But out here. In this small, quiet piece of the night. There was only them. Only this.
And as he held her closer under the endless stretch of stars, Yao knew, with a clarity that left no room for fear or doubt. They had already won. In the ways that mattered most. In the ways that would last forever.