Summary: Chaos calls them home, but love anchors them. As the tides of family, loyalty, and madness rise higher, Yao and Sicheng stand steady, proving that even in the heart of chaos, they have built something no storm can touch.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The villa was bathed in the golden light of early evening, the windows thrown open to let the soft ocean breeze roll through.
The scent of garlic, ginger, and seared meat filled the air, rich and mouthwatering.
Yao stood barefoot at the stove, her hair twisted up in a messy bun, a loose tank top hanging off one shoulder, her bare legs flashing with every small movement as she worked.
Sicheng sat obediently at the kitchen counter, as ordered, leaning his forearms against the polished stone with an amused, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He had tried— tried —to help earlier. Tried reaching for a knife. Tried stirring something. Tried, in general, to be useful.
But Yao, after her third stern glare and a near disaster involving almost burning the sauce, had banished him to the stool with a firm wave of the spatula. "Feed Da Bing the meat I cut up," she had ordered, not even glancing over her shoulder. "And stay out of my kitchen."
Sicheng, wisely, had retreated to the barstool, flicking small pieces of cut meat across the counter to Da Bing, who was growing rapidly and accepted his tribute with the air of a conquering emperor.
The villa pulsed with the kind of warm, lazy contentment that only came from a day spent doing nothing but living, breathing, and loving.
Yao hummed under her breath as she stirred the pan, the soft sizzle of sauce filling the kitchen. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She wiped her hands on a towel and hit the speaker without thinking, the screen lighting up with Jinyang's name. Yao didn't even turn away from the stove. "Hey, JieJie," she called casually, stirring the pan again.
Jinyang's voice exploded through the speaker so loud Da Bing twitched, shooting the phone a look of deep offense. "You need to come home soon!"
Yao blinked, lifting her head slightly, puzzled.
Sicheng straightened from where he had been tossing Da Bing another piece of meat, his brow arching.
"Uh," Yao said cautiously, "everything okay?"
"No!" Jinyang practically screeched. "Ai Jia and I are getting married!"
The spatula in Yao's hand clattered against the side of the pan as she jerked her head toward the phone, wide-eyed. Sicheng's mouth twitched, caught somewhere between a smirk and genuine surprise.
"And!" Jinyang continued, her voice going even higher, "Tao-ge is on the warpath because he just found out I'm pregnant!"
There was a long, loud thud —like a door slamming—and a male voice roaring furiously in the background: "I'M GOING TO MURDER THAT LITTLE BASTARD—"
Another crash.
More yelling.
Yao stared at the phone.
Then at Sicheng.
Then back at the phone.
Da Bing chirped curiously and promptly climbed onto the counter to stare at the device as if it personally offended him by causing this chaos during dinner.
Sicheng finally gave up trying to keep a straight face. He laughed—low, rough, deeply amused and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
Yao, still stunned, managed to find her voice. "Wait—wait—you're telling me you're engaged," she said slowly, her tone suspicious, "and pregnant—and Tao-ge is about to commit homicide—all at the same time?!"
On the other end, Jinyang was laughing and crying at once. "Yes!" she wailed happily. "And I swear if you don't come home soon, Ai Jia might not survive long enough to see the wedding because Tao already tried to drag him outside by his collar earlier!"
Sicheng rubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his grin.
Yao exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Jinyang," she muttered, glancing at Sicheng helplessly, "do you have any idea what you've unleashed?"
"Yes," Jinyang chirped unapologetically. "And I'm blaming you if he dies before the ceremony!" The call cut off in a burst of chaos, another shout from Chen Tao, Ai Jia's muffled protests, and Jinyang cackling wildly.
Yao lowered the phone slowly back to the counter and turned around fully to face Sicheng, her arms folded.
Sicheng shrugged one shoulder lazily, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Well," he drawled, "looks like our peaceful month just got cut short."
Yao groaned and flopped into the seat next to him, burying her face in her hands.
Da Bing, clearly sensing that dinner was now officially delayed, chirped and swatted at her elbow in protest.
Sicheng laughed under his breath, reached over, and tugged her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her securely. "You're lucky you love her," he murmured against her hair.
Yao groaned again but didn't resist when he kissed the crown of her head. "Remind me why I love her?" she grumbled.
"Because she's the only one crazier than you," he teased. "And because," he added, tilting her chin up gently until she met his gaze, "we'd both burn the world down for family."
Yao sighed dramatically. Then smiled. Small. Real. Resigned and full of love. "Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, we would."
The moment Yao pulled herself out of Sicheng's lap and started tidying the stove, her phone buzzed again, this time vibrating wildly across the counter as if possessed. Sicheng eyed it warily, tossing a half piece of meat to Da Bing, who caught it midair with a dignified chirp. Yao wiped her hands quickly and snagged the phone, glancing down at the screen.
Ai Jia.
She sighed deeply—already knowing this wasn't going to be good—and hit answer.
"Ai Jia—" she started, her voice dry and already full of resignation.
"YAO-ER!"
Ai Jia's voice exploded from the speaker so loud that Sicheng twitched and Da Bing flattened his ears, glaring at the phone with deep feline offense.
"Save me!" Ai Jia wailed. "Please! For the love of everything, save me from your crazy brother!!"
Yao blinked.
Sicheng leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest with deep amusement, mouthing "Called it."
"Ai Jia," Yao said slowly, as if speaking to a particularly unstable wild animal, "what exactly happened now?"
There was a scuffle in the background, something crashing, and Ai Jia let out another strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like him diving behind furniture.
"He's hunting me like a damn animal!" Ai Jia cried. "I went to drop off lunch for Jinyang because she's getting tired and—"
Another crash.
Ai Jia squeaked. "—and he said—" he lowered his voice dramatically, "'You better eat your last meal like a condemned man.'"
Yao pressed her hand over her mouth to smother the bubble of laughter rising in her throat.
Sicheng didn't bother hiding his snort. He looked at Yao over the rim of his water glass and said, deadpan, "Told you he wouldn't survive."
"Yao-er," Ai Jia's desperate voice pulled her attention back. "Please! I'm too young and good-looking to die this way!"
Yao finally lost it and laughed, the sound rich and helpless. "Ai Jia," she managed between breaths, "Tao-ge isn't going to actually kill you."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Are you sure about that?" Ai Jia demanded suspiciously. "Because he literally grabbed a shovel earlier and said he was measuring me for a plot!"
Yao wheezed and collapsed against the counter, shoulders shaking with laughter. Sicheng smirked, tossing another piece of meat to the kitten, clearly enjoying every second of Ai Jia's suffering. "Alright, alright," Yao said finally, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'll call Tao-ge." She straightened, still giggling. "And tell him," she added wickedly, "that if he's going to kill you, he better at least hide the body properly."
"YAO-ER!" Ai Jia howled in betrayal.
Yao hung up on him before he could start sobbing into the phone. She turned and grinned wickedly at Sicheng, who just shook his head, looking far too entertained. "I guess we're flying back first thing tomorrow," she said.
Sicheng shrugged lazily. "Better pack the shovel," he said dryly. "Sounds like Tao's gonna need it either way."
Yao laughed again, warm and full and completely at peace—even as chaos waited for them back home. Because with Sicheng's hand finding hers across the counter and Da Bing purring loudly at her feet. She knew she would face whatever madness came next exactly the same way they always had.
Together.
Later that evening, once the dishes were washed and Da Bing had been bribed with an extra serving of chicken to forgive them for the earlier chaos, Yao sat at the kitchen counter with her phone clutched in one hand, steeling herself.
Sicheng leaned against the fridge, arms folded across his chest, watching with the detached amusement of a man who knew he would step in if needed—but was also very much enjoying not being the one about to face the firing squad.
Yao exhaled slowly, tapped the call button, and lifted the phone to her ear.
It barely rang once before Chen Tao's voice exploded through the line. "Yao-Yao, you tell that bastard Ai Jia that I'll break his legs if he even looks at Jinyang wrong again—!"
Yao closed her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply through her nose. Enough. Sharp and clear, the way she hadn't had to in years but still remembered perfectly, she snapped, "Chen Tao!" The name cracked like a whip through the phone, the way their mother would have said it—sharp, commanding, filled with that old weight of you will listen and you will stop.
On the other end, the ranting cut off instantly.
Dead silence.
Sicheng arched a brow, impressed despite himself.
Yao straightened on her stool, her voice calm but firm, laced with the steel only family could pull from her. "Tao-ge," she said slowly, "you need to listen. And listen well." She gave him no room to interrupt, her tone slicing clean and direct. "Jinyang is twenty-eight years old," she said, her voice steady. "She's three years older than Ai Jia. She's a grown woman." There was a faint indignant huff through the line, but Tao didn't dare speak yet. "And if you honestly think," Yao continued, sharper now, "honestly think," she repeated for emphasis, "that Jinyang would have gotten pregnant if she didn't want to?" She let the question hang there, heavy and damning.
Silence stretched long over the line.
Yao pressed her advantage, her voice softening slightly but losing none of its firmness. "She's not a child. She chose this. She loves him. And Ai Jia loves her." She paused, letting it sink in. "You don't have to like that it happened this way," she said, quieter now, but no less sure, "but you will respect it."
Another long pause.
On the other end, Tao sighed, the sound rough and grudging. "...She's still my baby sister, like you are." he muttered under his breath.
Yao smiled faintly, her voice softening just a little more. "I know," she said. "She's ours. And that's why you have to trust her to know what's right for her."
Tao grumbled something incoherent, but the worst of the storm had passed.
Yao shifted the phone to her other hand, glancing at Sicheng, who gave her a small, approving nod. "And if you really want to protect her," Yao added, a hint of teasing warmth threading into her voice now, "you might want to save your energy for when the baby gets here." She grinned slightly. "You're going to need it."
Tao groaned loudly on the other end. "God help me, I'm too young to be a damn uncle."
Yao laughed—soft, full of love—and leaned her elbow on the counter. "You'll survive," she promised.
"And if not," Sicheng called lazily from his spot against the fridge, "we'll make sure you go down swinging."
Yao hung up to the sound of Tao muttering something that sounded suspiciously like prayers and death threats, in the same breath. She set the phone down with a soft sigh, running a hand through her hair.
Sicheng crossed the room, hooked a finger under her chin, and kissed her forehead gently. "Handled like a boss," he murmured.
Yao smiled, tipping her head up to look at him. "Someone has to keep the family from killing each other."
"And you're so good at it," he teased, his voice low and warm. Outside, the sky faded to deep velvet, the stars blinking lazily to life over the ocean. Inside, Yao leaned into him, letting the quiet of the night settle around them like a soft blanket.
After dealing with Tao and after convincing herself she wouldn't smuggle a bottle of whiskey onto the plane for the return flight. Yao sighed, grabbed her phone again, and tapped out another call. This time, she hit speaker before it even fully connected.
The line rang once, and then the background noise of chaos burst into life, Jinyang laughing breathlessly, Ai Jia sounding like he was ducking for cover, and someone (probably Tao) yelling something about "having a civil conversation with a baseball bat."
"Yao-Yao!" Jinyang chirped brightly, far too cheerful for someone standing in the middle of a battlefield.
"Help!" Ai Jia yelped somewhere close to the speaker. "Please, she's crazy, your brother's crazy!"
Yao closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling through her nose like a saint in the making. Then she smiled sweetly, a smile that Sicheng, watching from across the counter, recognized immediately as someone was about to suffer. "Ai Jia," she said calmly, her tone light and terrifying in its serenity. "Jinyang."
Silence.
Pin-drop, terrified silence.
"I want you both to know," Yao continued, twirling a pen lazily between her fingers, "that there will be hell to pay when I get back." She paused, savoring the dead air. "I was enjoying," she added pointedly, "the first real vacation I have had in years."
A strangled noise from Ai Jia.
A muffled guilty giggle from Jinyang.
"And now," Yao said, her voice dropping into deadly sweetness, "I have to come home to save lives, prevent homicide, and mediate wedding and baby drama." She tapped the side of her phone thoughtfully. "And since, for very obvious reasons," she said, glancing pointedly down at her stomach with exaggerated innocence, "I can't lay a hand on the pregnant bride?" Ai Jia whimpered audibly. "You," Yao said, voice sharp and glinting like the blade it always was when she decided to unleash it, "are fair game, Ai Jia." Before they could react, before Ai Jia could start pleading or Jinyang could protest, Yao smiled sweetly and hung up.
The silence in the villa was broken only by the sound of Sicheng choking on a laugh, pressing a hand over his mouth to contain it as Da Bing yowled once from his spot on the windowsill, as if approving the chaos. Still grinning, Yao opened her messages, selecting the ZGDX team group chat and typing quickly.
ZGDX_SaltMaiden: Attention lovely Minions: Open season has officially been declared on the Midlaner from next door.Targets: Creative license allowed.Collateral damage: Acceptable.Reward: Eternal glory and snacks on me.
Not even ten seconds later, her phone blew up.
ZGDX_Pang: Does this mean I get to finally use the water balloons I've been hiding?
ZGDX_Lv: Wait wait wait, define collateral damage again? Asking for a friend.
ZGDX_Mao: I'll bring the duct tape.
ZGDX_K: I have a plan.
ZGDX_Rui: Don't kill anyone. I don't want to do paperwork.
ZGDX_Ming: No promises, because he probably deserves it.
Yao laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter, tears blurring her vision.
Sicheng, finally losing it entirely, walked past her and smacked her lightly on the back of the head with a folded towel. "You," he muttered, "are a damn menace."
Yao straightened, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, smiling sweetly at him. "You're just mad you can't join the hunt."
Sicheng leaned down, brushed his mouth over hers with slow, heated affection, and murmured against her lips: "Shorty, I don't need to join the hunt." He smirked, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. "I already caught my prize."
Yao flushed, her stomach flipping wildly at the casual, devastating honesty in his voice. And as the evening settled warm and soft around them, the ocean murmuring in the distance and Da Bing purring contentedly against the window, Yao realized. No matter what chaos waited for them at home. No matter how much teasing, chasing, and tackling Ai Jia had coming. She had everything she ever needed right here. And she wasn't afraid of anything anymore. Not with him. Not with them. Not with family.
Morning came soft and golden, the sunlight spilling in through the gauzy curtains and painting the villa in soft warmth. The smell of the ocean still lingered faintly in the air, but the easy, lazy peace they had built here was laced now with the undeniable hum of departure.
Yao stood barefoot in the center of their room, half-heartedly folding clothes into the open suitcase on the bed while Da Bing perched royally atop the pile of neatly folded shirts, his big blue eyes daring anyone to remove him.
Sicheng leaned casually against the door-frame, arms folded, watching the chaos unfold with thinly veiled amusement. "You're never going to get him off that," he pointed out dryly, nodding toward Da Bing.
Yao huffed, reaching out to try and nudge the oversized ball of fluff off the clothes.
Da Bing responded by flopping dramatically onto his side and letting out a loud, offended meow.
Sicheng chuckled low in his chest. "He's gotten worse," he muttered. "You've turned him into a monster."
Yao shot him a look over her shoulder, hands on her hips. "First of all," she said sweetly, "he was born a spoiled prince. I just happen to worship the ground he walks on."
Sicheng smirked, crossing the room in a few easy strides, wrapping his arms lazily around her from behind and pulling her against his chest. "You're lucky I like you," he murmured against her hair.
Yao grinned and leaned back into him, feeling the steady thrum of his heart against her spine. "And second," she added, reaching down to gently scoop Da Bing up, earning herself a low grumble from the kitten but no real fight, "you spoil him just as much as I do."
Sicheng made a noncommittal noise that sounded suspiciously like guilty as charged and kissed the side of her neck.
Yao dropped Da Bing carefully into the open pet carrier waiting beside the bed, where he immediately flopped down and began grooming himself like the royalty he firmly believed he was.
The flight back was smooth, the private jet stocked with everything Da Bing could possibly need, including a ridiculous selection of fresh fish snacks that Yao had definitely not smuggled onboard herself despite what Sicheng said.
The three of them curled up in the wide, plush seats, the cabin warm and quiet, the world outside sliding by in lazy, endless clouds.
Sicheng sat with his arm stretched across the back of Yao's seat, his hand absently stroking the back of her neck, his other hand scrolling lazily through his phone.
Yao leaned her head against his shoulder, one hand slipped into Da Bing's carrier, scratching gently behind his ears. It was a kind of peace she hadn't even known she needed. And it was theirs. All theirs.
By the time they landed, the sun was dipping low over the horizon, the sky painted in wide strokes of gold and crimson. The airport was quieter than usual—private terminal, private landing—but not quiet enough to mask the looming chaos waiting for them.
As they descended the steps from the plane, Yao spotted them immediately.
The entire ZGDX team.
Ming.
Rui.
Even a few YQCB members who must have been dragged along for the ride—or the entertainment.
And at the center of it all?
Pang waving a massive homemade "WELCOME HOME SALT MAIDEN AND THE CAPTAIN" banner, drawn in what looked suspiciously like glitter glue and marker.
Yue standing beside him, holding a second smaller sign that just read: "OPEN SEASON ON AI JIA" —with a little doodle of a target drawn over it.
Sicheng groaned quietly, dragging a hand down his face. Yao laughed so hard she had to lean against him for support. Even Da Bing, from inside his carrier, let out a curious chirp, as if judging the entire spectacle.
They crossed the tarmac slowly, the team closing in around them like a storm, clapping them on the back, trying (and failing) to grab Da Bing's attention, teasing Sicheng, teasing Yao.
It was loud.
It was chaotic.
It was home.
Pang grinned wide, throwing an arm around Yao's shoulders as they reached the group. "Missed you, boss lady," he said cheerfully, ruffling her hair.
Da Bing immediately hissed at him from the carrier.
Yue sidled up to her, waggling his eyebrows. "So," he said brightly, "about that open season order?"
Yao grinned, pure mischief lighting her whole face. "It's still active," she confirmed sweetly. "Have fun."
Yue fist-pumped.
Sicheng just shook his head, muttering something under his breath about "children" and "bad influences," but he didn't move away from her, his hand finding her waist and staying there like he was anchoring himself to her.
And Yao, standing there in the middle of all the noise, the chaos, the warmth. Smiled. Because she had fought so hard to get here. To this. To family. To love. To home. And now that she had it. She was never letting go.
Returning to the ZGDX base felt like stepping straight back into the heart of the storm. The front door barely swung shut behind them before Da Bing leapt majestically from Yao's arms and strutted through the living room like a returning king surveying his long-neglected kingdom. The boys scattered instinctively out of his path, offering cautious nods and wide berths, as if fully understanding the punishment that would follow should they disrespect the sovereign.
Sicheng dropped the luggage in the entryway with a grunt and smirked after the retreating cat. "Home for five seconds," he muttered, "and he's already reestablishing dominance."
Yao just laughed, kicking off her sandals and padding barefoot after her furry tyrant, her heart warm and full in a way she hadn't even realized she missed until now.
The base smelled the same. Looked the same. Sounded the same—loud, chaotic, full of life.
And it wrapped around her like an old, beloved jacket.
Across the living room, Pang, Yue, Lao Mao, Lao K, Rui, and Ming were huddled together at the far side of the room around a whiteboard hastily dragged from storage.
The board was filled with frantic, half-scribbled ideas under a huge, bold heading at the top:
OPERATION: OPEN SEASON ON AI JIA
Below it, different colored markers branched into sub-ideas:
Water Balloon Ambush
Saran Wrap Over the Bathroom Door
Switching His Coffee with Decaf
Classic Prank Calls Using the YQCB Base Line
Stealing One Shoe (Only One!)
Pang was enthusiastically outlining "Team Diversion Strategies," waving his marker around like a lunatic, while Yue leaned in to add a glittery sticker to the corner labeled "Style Points."
Rui stood a little back from the chaos, arms crossed, an expression on his face that could only be described as long-suffering elder brother who has already accepted defeat.
Ming just sipped his tea, shaking his head slowly.
Yao and Sicheng stood near the couch, watching the chaos unfold, Da Bing perched proudly on the armrest beside them like the tiny godfather of all mischief.
Sicheng leaned down slightly, murmuring against Yao's hair: "Should we be worried?"
Yao grinned, tucking herself comfortably into his side. "Only for Ai Jia," she said brightly.
Pang turned and spotted them, beaming like a lunatic. "Yao-er! Boss!" he called. "We're putting the finishing touches on the plan, you're gonna be proud!"
Yue added without missing a beat, "If we don't accidentally destroy the base in the process, consider it a bonus."
Da Bing chirped once, loudly, clearly in favor of the chaos.
Yao laughed, the sound bubbling up bright and uncontrollable.
Sicheng shook his head again, tightening his arm briefly around her shoulders. "You're all idiots," he said affectionately.
"And they're your idiots too," Yao teased back.
He didn't deny it. Instead, he kissed the side of her head, slow and deliberate, and murmured against her hair, "Yeah. They are."
They stayed like that for a long moment, the living room alive with noise and energy and the plotting of a very doomed Midlaner. Wrapped in the warmth of family. In the pulse of life they had built together. In the unshakable, undeniable truth that no matter what storms came next— They would face them together. Always.