Regrouping with Resolve

“Jiang Chen,” Zhou Yi declared, “I want to continue this project.”

Jiang Chen froze, his gaze lingering on her face for a long moment.

Zhou Yi continued, “I refuse to give up. I won’t stand by and watch others effortlessly snatch away our hard work, claiming first place by trampling on our efforts.”

Meeting his gaze, she articulated each word with fierce conviction: “I want to win.”

Jiang Chen remained silent for a long time, his eyes fixed on her.

“…Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.”

For a moment, Jiang Chen was speechless. The resolute answer had effectively stifled all the dissuasive arguments he had prepared.

Observing the defiant spark in her eyes, his resistance finally dissolved into a sigh of reluctant compromise. “Alright,” he conceded.

He paused, his gaze briefly flicking past the anxious Li Yanze behind her before settling back on her face. “As long as you wish to continue,” he vowed, “I’ll stand by you.”

Behind them, Li Yanze abruptly lifted his head, his eyes instantly welling with crimson.

He understood profoundly that this was not merely a turning point for the project; it was a second chance, a lifeline offered by his senior. Moreover, Jiang Chen, driven by her unwavering resolve, was willing to swallow his own displeasure and reservations.

“That’s wonderful!” Zhou Yi exclaimed, a smile of profound relief finally gracing her features. “Let’s head inside and meticulously plan our next steps.”

****

For the first time since the rupture and betrayal, the three of them gathered around the same table once more.

Jiang Chen ultimately shifted his attention from Li Yanze’s bruised cheekbone, allowing his gaze to settle on Zhou Yi.

A subtle awkwardness and lingering heaviness still permeated the air, yet the prior sense of impending fragmentation had begun to dissipate.

“Then, let’s begin,” Zhou Yi announced, her voice brimming with renewed energy.

“Do you have any concrete ideas?” Jiang Chen asked Zhou Yi, his tone tentative as he met her gaze.

The successive blows had made him deeply question whether the team’s core, having just weathered such internal strife, could truly endure the pressures that lay ahead.

He was not entirely unprepared. In fact, he had already braced himself for the worst possible outcomes.

Should the team genuinely prove unsustainable, he had even considered guiding her toward an individual competition track. Yet, that remained his most reluctant fallback option.

For now, he yearned to hear her perspective above all else.

Zhou Yi’s fingertips tapped lightly against the tabletop.

“A grand strategy, I don’t have one at the moment,” she admitted, spreading her hands with a slight smile. “However, the immediate first step is unequivocally clear.”

Jiang Chen found himself unconsciously holding his breath.

“We must immediately organize all data and process records from the past few days, leaving no detail, not even a punctuation mark, overlooked. Even if we ultimately need to appeal to the competition committee, we must present irrefutable evidence, mustn’t we?”

Her impeccable logic was so compelling that it almost made one forget the fragile image she had presented earlier that day, turning away to discreetly wipe her tears.

Jiang Chen paused, a flicker of astonishment crossing his face as he gazed at the seemingly delicate girl before him.

He had initially assumed that the relentless succession of setbacks would be enough to shatter her resolve or force her to retreat.

He had even quietly rehearsed lines of comfort on his way over.

Yet, he had utterly underestimated her; this young woman possessed a resilience far greater than he had ever conceived.

Instead of succumbing to despondent emotions, she had firmly seized upon the most practical and critical point of action.

A complex emotion, a blend of admiration and profound respect, subtly displaced the solemn frown etched between Jiang Chen’s brows.

He couldn’t help but chuckle aloud. “Captain Zhou,” he quipped, “which manufacturer produced your psychological fortitude? I’d like to commission one for myself.”

Zhou Yi lowered her gaze, her voice quiet. “If I were the first to lose my composure,” she stated plainly, “then this project truly would be beyond saving.”

Jiang Chen felt a gentle, almost imperceptible jolt in his chest, accompanied by a strange, poignant ache.

More than anger, grievance, or complaint, it was her almost stubborn composure in this moment that stirred a profound pity within him.

“Alright.” He took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the sudden urge to ruffle her hair. “Then, together, we’ll salvage this.”

“I—I have all the technical documents right here!” Li Yanze blurted out, his voice laced with an urgency that suggested he had finally found an opportunity for redemption.

“All the process logs and version records are safely stored on my computer, perfectly preserved! I… I’ll go compile them all immediately!”

“Excellent,” Zhou Yi affirmed with a nod, swiftly assigning their tasks. “Our primary objective tonight is to consolidate all the data, meticulously labeling each entry with clear timestamps and sources. Tomorrow morning, we’ll proceed with cross-verification.”

“Whether for the project’s reconstruction or for any future appeal process, we must ensure our chain of evidence is absolutely foolproof.”

Her gaze swept over both men, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “After all,” she remarked, “when it comes to delivering a ‘face-slap,’ one must always prepare with a certain grandeur.”

Li Yanze seemed to receive a sudden surge of adrenaline, his spine straightening perceptibly.

“Then I’ll head straight back to the dorm for my laptop and external hard drive!”

“I’ll grab the chargers,” Jiang Chen added, “It looks like we’ll be pulling an all-nighter.”

Watching the two men spring into immediate action, a genuine smile finally bloomed across Zhou Yi’s face.

****

The library lights cast a serene glow as the trio settled before their respective computers, the only sounds intersecting the quiet air being the rhythmic tap of keyboards and the click of mice.

Li Yanze practically buried his face in the screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard with frantic energy.

Behind this almost masochistic fervor lay the profound, uncontainable guilt that consumed him.

His father, a middle manager in a state-owned enterprise, spoke with the unyielding authority of a military commander. Possessing a tough and volatile temperament, he was accustomed to establishing his dominance with physical force.

His mother, a woman of timid disposition, held virtually no influence in their household’s daily affairs.

Within that home, a single misstep could easily ignite his father’s fury, escalating into even more severe scolding and beatings.

Consequently, from a young age, he had mastered the art of reading facial cues, offering absolute obedience in exchange for fleeting moments of peace.

To appease others had become his sole survival instinct.

Now, witnessing the team’s predicament, brought about by his own egregious error, that familiar, suffocating wave of panic once again threatened to drown him.

Involuntarily, he reverted to his most practiced mode: ingratiation.

Since stepping into the library, he had been a whirlwind of activity, constantly dashing back and forth. He had just brought warm water for Zhou Yi, then hurried to refill Jiang Chen’s coffee, and now he was silently squatting on the floor, meticulously untangling the jumbled power cords beneath Zhou Yi’s feet.

As he rose again, preparing to fetch a second cup of water, Zhou Yi finally reached her limit, raising a hand to block his path.

“Li Yanze,” she admonished, “could you please sit still for just five minutes?”

The sudden rise in her voice made him flinch.

“I—I just wanted to help…”

“You’ve already helped,” Zhou Yi sighed, her tone softening considerably. “But not in this manner.”

She paused, her gaze fixed on his face, which was etched with guilt and apprehension. Then, she spoke, each word carefully articulated:

“We are a team, partners fighting side by side. There is no need for anyone to curry favor with another.”

Li Yanze’s throat bobbed.

Anyone could discern his earnest efforts, yet that very effort was too strenuous, too frenzied.

“She’s right,” Jiang Chen affirmed, his gaze still fixed on his screen, fingers dancing across the keyboard. “Within this team, your value stems from your capabilities, not from the number of coffee cups you serve.”

He finally ceased typing, turning his head to face Li Yanze. “Do your part, utilize your expertise—that is the most meaningful contribution you can make, both to us and to yourself.”