Chapter 48: Checkups and Consequences

Summary: As routines settle and the team thrives, a single notification resets the tempo, pulling everyone back into checkups, compromises, and a quiet reckoning of how far they've come. Beneath the teasing, purging, and dramatics, something steadier grows—small acts of care, trust worn like armor, and the soft, undeniable truth that no one stands alone anymore. Not in this house. Not in this team. Not when she's at the heart of it.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Over the course of the next month, the base found its rhythm—one defined by long training hours, unmatched team synergy, and quiet evenings laced with laughter, soft conversations, and, more often than not, two cats who treated the entire team like rowdy intruders in their home.

Yao poured herself into preparing for her dissertation defense. Her days were a careful balance between deep academic work—annotated journals spread across her desk, quiet study sessions where Da Bing rested behind her and Xiao Cong watched her notes like a second TA—and her regular role with ZGDX, reviewing data with Kwon, and sometimes quietly watching practice sets from her desk just a few feet from the boys.

And ZGDX?

Undefeated.

Not a single loss in their current season. Every match was executed with the kind of brutal precision that had fans raving, commentators praising, and rival teams growing increasingly nervous. Lao Mao and Lao K remained a seamless frontline, Pang's support skills sharper than ever, and Ming—solid, cool, dependable—proved why he was considered one of the strongest Midlaners in the league.

And then there was Sicheng.

Lu Sicheng was terrifyingly good, even by his own standards. Focused, unshakable, with plays that were as clean as they were aggressive. But what the others saw on stage—cold, calculating precision—was very different from what Yao saw at home. He was still intense, still competitive, but when the scrims ended and the base lights dimmed for the night, he was just hers. Her partner. Her quiet constant. Her quiet warmth. More often than not, his footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs late at night, slipping into her apartment with nothing more than a soft knock and a murmur of, "You awake?" And then he'd be beside her—sometimes just sitting on the couch reviewing match footage, sometimes in bed, arms wrapped around her, their breathing syncing with the soft purring of Da Bing curled at their feet and Xiao Cong nestled in the corner, ever watchful.

As the date of her defense crept closer, the base subtly adjusted to accommodate her. Training schedules were respected down to the minute so she could maintain her prep routine. Yue no longer shouted directly outside her apartment. Even Rui started placing protein-rich snacks on her desk without comment.

And Sicheng?

Sicheng never let her walk into a single day without making sure she'd eaten. And more importantly—he never let her forget that she wasn't alone. She had a team. She had her family. She had him. And all of them were ready to show the world exactly what ZGDX—and their Tiny Boss Bunny—were made of.

It was just past three in the afternoon, and the usual current of ZGDX energy pulsed through the base. Scrims had just wrapped for the day, snacks had begun to disappear from the kitchen at alarming rates, and the boys were scattered in varying stages of semi-productivity—Pang rifling through the fridge, Yue attempting to coax Da Bing into letting him sit on his couch, and Lao K trying to tune them all out with earbuds and iced coffee.

Lu Sicheng sat in his usual spot at the corner of the lounge, phone in hand, gaze drifting lazily across the room. That calm only lasted until his screen lit with a notification.

#OneHarpy: Next medical check-up has been scheduled. The entire team. And Yao. With Dr. Cho and her husband, same as last time. Follow-up for everyone, but especially for her. Non-negotiable.

Sicheng's thumb paused over the screen, his jaw ticking faintly. Not out of annoyance, but because he could already hear Yao trying to say she was fine and didn't need to be fussed over. But this was coming from his mother. And when she arranged something, it wasn't an ask—it was a decree. Especially after Yao's last brush with illness had left her sick enough to be hospitalized. His mother hadn't said much then, but since that day, Lady Lu had quietly taken an even more active role in Yao's health, than before because of the original visit they all head visited the doctors. She had chosen Dr. Cho, a specialist with a calming bedside manner and a wife equally skilled in dealing with mental and emotional strain. The last visit had been discreet. Respectful. Gentle. But no less thorough. And now the follow-up has arrived.

Sicheng flicked his gaze across the room again. Yao was seated near the far end of the couch, laptop open, eyes scanning her notes with a concentration that almost masked the quiet tiredness beneath her expression. Da Bing lay draped along the top of the couch like a furry sentry, tail flicking slowly. Xiao Cong was curled in a tight ball in her lap, purring softly.

The boys?

Loud, chaotic, and unaware of the incoming command.

He replied quickly.

StingyDemonicBrat: Got it. I'll make sure everyone shows."

The response was nearly instant.

#OneHarpy: Time's in your calendar. No excuses. And remind Yao: just because she feels better doesn't mean she doesn't need the check-up. Her health is important especially as it seems she has gained the weight she should have but still needs to be checked on.

Sicheng stood, stretched lazily, and walked across the lounge to where the others were beginning to unravel into post-training nonsense. "Alright." he said, voice smooth but commanding enough to cut through the room.

"What?" Yue immediately looked up with suspicion. 

"Doctor visit," Sicheng announced.

Groans.

Immediate.

"Again? I'm healthy! I jogged last week!" Pang flopped backward onto the floor. 

"You jogged to the fridge." Ming muttered as he tattled on the male as he knew everyone but the male really followed the instructions given to them..

"It was still cardio!"

"Wait—what?" Yao looked up, blinking in confusion.

Sicheng turned to her, voice softening slightly as his gaze locked on hers. "The entire team. Medical follow-up. My mother arranged it. Same doctors. You included."

Yao sat back slightly. "I don't—"

He cut her off gently, but firmly. "It's already scheduled. You're going. We're all going."

Yue groaned louder. "I knew I should've gone with a friend out of town for the weekend."

"Like that would've helped," Lao K muttered, rolling his eyes.

"She's worse than Rui." Pang whispered.

"You're lucky she didn't tag along personally." Sicheng smirked faintly, crossing his arms. 

Yao sighed, clearly realizing there was no use arguing—and that if she so much as tried, she'd have both Sicheng and Lady Lu on her before she could reach the elevator. "Fine," she murmured, returning to her laptop. "But if they draw blood, someone better bring me takoyaki after."

"You're getting a whole feast after." Sicheng replied smoothly, leaning down to brush a kiss to the top of her head.

Yue fake-gagged. Pang snapped a photo. Lao Mao muttered something about looking into escape routes. But no one argued. Because Lady Lu had spoken. And when she made an appointment? 

You showed up.

The appointment had been scheduled in advance—quietly, efficiently, and with Lady Lu's exacting standards. As before, the clinic had cleared the waiting room and blocked the time to accommodate the entire ZGDX team. From Rui to Yue, from Lao Mao's overtraining to Pang's eternal war with sodium, every concern had been noted, tracked, and was now due for follow-up.

And this time, the atmosphere was different. Because it wasn't their first round of corrections—it was the check-up to see if they'd actually listened. One by one, the team filed into the clinic and faced Dr. Cho's steady-eyed husband with varying levels of dread. Lao K had, in fact, improved—gaining lean muscle as recommended. Lao Mao had managed to reduce his protein shake obsession. Even Yue had grudgingly added real food to his diet (under threat of being sent on a business trip with their father).

But Pang?

Pang sat on the exam table with a sheepish expression and a half-eaten energy bar in his hand.

The doctor sighed, lifting his clipboard. "You've gained weight in all the wrong places."

"I bulked." Pang muttered.

"You're bloated," the doctor corrected dryly. "Still eating too many processed carbs. You haven't made the shift to clean eating. Your stamina score is down compared to your last match profile."

Yao, seated quietly near the window in the private lounge area while the team rotated through, looked up briefly at the word "processed," clearly unsurprised. Once the team had finished their rounds, each with updated meal plans, new strength routines, and fresh warnings, Yao was quietly called into Dr. Cho's office. This time, she didn't go alone. She glanced to her side. And Sicheng stood without needing a word. He joined her inside, taking the chair beside her with easy familiarity, his arm lightly brushing hers, a quiet reminder that he was there—and staying.

Dr. Cho, professional as ever, greeted them warmly before starting her evaluation. Vitals were stable. Blood work showed solid improvement. Her iron levels were climbing. There was no sign of severe fatigue or vitamin deficiency. And, most importantly, her weight had finally returned to a healthy range. "You've been eating regularly," the doctor observed with a quiet smile, flipping her chart closed. "Your improvements are clear."

"I've been trying." Yao nodded shyly, her fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve.

Then Dr. Cho's gaze softened, and she leaned forward just slightly. "I also want to say—there's been notable progress in another area." Her eyes moved to Sicheng briefly before returning to Yao. "The last time we spoke, you were still extremely touch-averse. You froze during the reflex test. You flinched when I adjusted the cuff on your arm. But this time? You didn't react at all."

Yao blinked, startled.

"You're becoming more comfortable with physical contact," Dr. Cho continued. "It's not just tolerating it now—it's familiarity. You're still shy, but your body doesn't read it as danger anymore. That's a huge step, Miss Tong."

Yao flushed, eyes lowering, but a quiet smile curled at her lips.

Dr. Cho smiled back, then added gently, "I have a feeling it has something to do with the company you've been keeping." Beside her, Sicheng smirked faintly, but said nothing. "And I want you to know," Dr. Cho said, folding her hands over the chart, "we're proud of you. Progress like this—especially emotional and sensory progress—takes trust. It takes vulnerability. You're doing everything right."

Yao's voice was quiet. "Thank you."

And when they stepped back out into the hallway, Sicheng rested his hand lightly on her back—not to guide her, not to lead. Just to hold her there. And this time? She leaned into it. Instinctively. And didn't let go.

Pang was sulking. And not in his usual overdramatic, flailing-on-the-floor, 'Yue stole the last shrimp bun' kind of way. This was full-bodied, soul-deep, mournful sulking.

Because the doctor had read him like a menu.

Seated back in the lounge area of the clinic, holding his paperwork like it was a death sentence, Pang blinked down at the crisp print in disbelief.

Doctor's Orders:

— No processed snacks

— Strict adherence to approved nutrition plan

— No late-night ramen, no high-sodium frozen dumplings, no mystery meat buns from corner stores

— No snacking between meals unless from approved list

It wasn't even the bold font that did it.

It was the handwritten line at the bottom.

"This includes those 'emotional support snacks' you keep in your hoodie pocket."

Rui glanced at the form first. Then, pale-faced, Pang looked at Sicheng. Who stood, arms crossed, looking every inch the Captain and Executioner.

"You are officially banned," Sicheng said flatly, "from ordering your own snacks."

"What if I—"

"Unless they're from the approved nutrition list," he continued, unbothered, "which I have a copy of. And so does Rui."

"But—"

"No, you are now on monitored intake." Rui said without looking up from his tablet.

Yue, sitting nearby, snorted into his drink. "He's a snack criminal. He's on snack parole."

"This is abuse. I'm a grown man—" Pang groaned dramatically, slouching in his seat. 

Sicheng's tone dropped a level. Calm. Dangerous. Final. "You ignored the last plan," he said smoothly. "You snuck snacks into the base kitchen, hid dumpling wrappers under the sink, and convinced Yao to 'sample' the desserts you didn't want Rui to notice you buying."

Yao, who had been quietly sipping water beside him, blinked and muttered, "You said it was for science…"

Pang winced. "She's too innocent for betrayal…"

Sicheng didn't flinch. "So here's what's going to happen," he continued. "You're going to follow the new plan. Or…" His voice trailed off, and he let the silence fill in the threat before it even landed. "…you'll explain to my mother why you've decided your sodium addiction is more important than the health of you and the function of this team."

Pang froze.

Yue actually wheezed.

Lao Mao shook his head. "Dude. No. No one survives a scolding from Madam Lu. That's the final boss."

"You'd send me to her?" Pang whispered, stricken.

"If you can't listen to your Captain and Boss," Sicheng replied calmly, "then you can face the Number One Harpy and see if you fare better."

"I'm being sacrificed," Pang hissed, clutching his form like it was a holy relic. "They're sacrificing me to the Dragon Matriarch."

Yao, hiding a small smile behind her hand, leaned over just enough to pat his shoulder. "You'll survive."

"Barely," Pang mumbled. "Someone save me a steamed bun for the afterlife."

"Start with steamed broccoli." Sicheng smirked faintly, already turning away.

The ride back to the base was unusually calm. No one was arguing over aux cord control, no one was trying to smuggle contraband snacks in their hoodie pockets (though Pang sat in the corner by the window, mourning what could've been), and even Yue was scrolling his phone in near-silence—mostly, anyway.

Yao sat beside Sicheng, curled slightly toward him with a soft blanket draped across her lap. It wasn't until the quiet hum of the bus had lulled her mind back into full awareness that Yao blinked and sat up slightly. "Wait…" she murmured aloud, her brows furrowing slightly. "Coach Kwon… wasn't at the appointment today."

Sicheng tilted his head slightly. "No, he wasn't."

"And he wasn't at the last one either," she continued, now visibly surprised. "Why didn't I notice that before?"

From the seat across the aisle, Lao K let out a dry snort and didn't even look up from his phone. "That's because Coach Kwon's a full-blown health nut," he muttered, tone flat with amusement. "You didn't know?"

Yao blinked. "Wait—seriously?"

"He's the real deal," Lao K confirmed. "Dude barely eats out. No late-night meals. No snacks unless he made them himself. Doesn't even look at energy drinks."

"Doesn't touch sugar," Lao Mao added from up front. "And he runs five miles before we're even awake."

"I saw him eat a salad with no dressing," Yue chimed in with mild horror. "Just leaves. And tofu. Like a rabbit. But with judgment."

Pang groaned from where he was still curled dramatically against the window. "He's the health standard none of us can live up to…"

"That's why Madam Lu didn't schedule him," Lao K finished, glancing briefly over. "She probably ran his chart once and went, 'Yep. That one can live to be 110. Moving on.' "

Yao blinked slowly, processing all this, before leaning toward Sicheng again. "I thought he was just really boring at lunch."

Sicheng smirked. "He's focused."

"He eats quinoa," Yue muttered. "Voluntarily."

There was a beat of silence before Pang sighed heavily. "I've been replaced," he whispered. "By a man who eats steamed kale."

Yao giggled softly, resting her head against Sicheng's shoulder. "At least Coach Kwon's not in danger of getting sent to Madam Lu."

Pang whimpered. "Don't remind me."

The moment the team stepped back into the base, shoes off, jackets shrugged onto hooks, and the comfort of their familiar chaos returning, Lu Sicheng's voice cut through the hallway with sharp, Captain-level authority. "Alright. Everything unhealthy, processed, or remotely resembling Pang's hoard of sodium-laced regret—toss it."

Yue immediately paused mid-step, backpack half-open, holding a bag of spicy shrimp chips with a frozen look on his face. "Wait, what?"

Sicheng didn't even glance at him. "You heard me."

Pang, who had barely made it two feet into the living room, yelped. "You're starting already?! I haven't even unpacked my hoodie snacks!"

"I said toss it. All of it. Junk food, mystery ramen, instant noodles with five flavor packets, candy stashed in mugs—gone." Sicheng repeated, walking straight to the kitchen, opening every cabinet with practiced precision. 

Pang's voice cracked. "There's a system! A sacred order of—"

"Lao Mao," Sicheng called without missing a beat, "go to Pang and Yue's room."

Lao Mao looked up from where he was setting his gaming gear on the table, eyes widening slightly. "You serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Now?"

"Yes. Right now."

Lao Mao grinned, like he'd just been handed the ultimate blessing from the Heavens. "Can I wear gloves?"

"You might want to," Yue muttered. "There's probably something in there that moved last week."

"Fridge too?" Lao Mao asked, already heading toward the hallway.

"Especially the fridge," Sicheng said, yanking open another drawer and pulling out a stash of Pang's 'limited edition' spicy instant dumplings. "We're not feeding the team's Support on preserved sodium and plastic cheese."

Yao, leaning against the counter with a thermos in her hands, blinked as she watched the operation unfold. "Is this a purge or an exorcism?"

Da Bing hopped onto the kitchen counter, staring at Pang like he had personally petitioned for this purge. Xiao Cong, perched on Yao's shoulder, gave a small judgmental meow.

Pang looked like a man betrayed by his ancestors. "You're taking my entire lifestyle—"

"I'm taking your death wish by sodium and flushing it," Sicheng replied flatly.

Yue sighed, tossing the shrimp chips into the bin. "We're all gonna be glowing with health and bitterness by the end of this season."

Pang dropped to his knees dramatically. "Tell my dumplings… I loved them."

Sicheng didn't flinch. "Say goodbye to your snack fridge."

From down the hallway, a triumphant shout echoed—

"Found a drawer of jerky behind the monitor!"

Yao snorted softly behind her thermos.

Sicheng smirked.

And Pang mourned. Loudly. Intensely.

As the Snacking Purge of ZGDX officially began.

Pang, still slumped dramatically on the floor as Lao Mao gleefully cleared out his shrine of snacks, let out a long, mournful groan that echoed through the hallway like a ghost clinging to his last bag of beef jerky. "This is injustice," he muttered. "Cruel, calculated destruction. I've lost everything. My ramen, my candy, my spicy dumplings—everything."

From the kitchen, Sicheng remained unbothered, pulling another unopened box of processed pastry snacks from a high shelf and tossing it into the growing pile of contraband on the counter. "You're lucky I don't throw out your mug collection while I'm at it."

Pang's head shot up with a flash of hope—or desperation. "What about your candy stash?! Huh, Captain? You keep a whole drawer of those in your desk! The fancy ones in little glass jars with the labels turned just right! Why aren't those getting thrown out?!"

For a moment, silence.

Then—

Yao, standing just at the entrance of the kitchen with a mug of warm tea in her hands and a calm expression that could only belong to someone who knew exactly what she was doing, lifted her head. "Because I bought those for him." she said plainly.

Pang blinked. "Wait—you what?"

"They're sugar-free," Yao continued smoothly. "Low-calorie. Naturally sweetened. From a certified health food store." She took a sip of her tea, completely composed. "They're allowed under Doctor Cho's approved list. And I checked twice."

Sicheng, casually leaning against the counter now, gave Pang the most unbothered look in ZGDX history as he plucked one of the pale gold wrapped mints from the jar behind him and popped it into his mouth without a word.

Pang gaped. "That's so unfair! I can't even have my salted seaweed crackers, but he gets custom health store candy?!"

Yao glanced at him and, without blinking, added, "I'd rather him chew on those than go back to smoking."

That silenced the room.

Even Yue—midway through poking at a suspicious bag of Pang's expired trail mix—froze and blinked.

Sicheng's jaw shifted slightly, but he said nothing, still sucking on the candy, eyes locked briefly on Yao with something unreadable soft and adoring flickering behind them.

"…okay. Yeah. That's… that's fair." Pang blinked again, then slowly, awkwardly lowered himself back to the floor.

Yue nodded slowly. "Didn't know we were using logic now."

Yao gave him a sweet smile. "I use logic when you're not using your brain."

Yue grinned. "I'd be offended, but you're cute Tiny Boss Bunny."

Sicheng popped another candy in his mouth and muttered, "I'm banning compliments next."

And Pang?

Still dramatically sprawled across the floor? He groaned again. Because somehow, not only had he lost his snacks. He had lost the moral high ground. To sugar-free candy.

Yao, standing beside the kitchen counter with her mug still cradled in both hands, tilted her head slightly, expression soft and genuinely puzzled as she blinked toward Sicheng. "Why would you ban compliments? I thought compliments were good." she asked, her tone completely sincere, brows furrowed ever so slightly in confusion.

The room froze.

Yue snorted, half-choking on laughter, already retreating to the couch like he was trying not to get caught in whatever that was about to become.

Pang, still on the floor, gave up and just covered his face with his hoodie sleeve. "Oh no. He's not surviving this one…"

Sicheng had just popped another sugar-free candy in his mouth, but his eyes cut sideways toward Yao, and his jaw paused mid-movement. She was still looking at him with that look—the wide hazel eyes, the genuine curiosity, the kind of innocence that wasn't oblivious but just… so her. And it cracked something inside him just a little.

"You said you were banning compliments," she added, still very much not letting it go, "but that doesn't make sense. Compliments make people happy."

His candy clicked quietly against his teeth as he stared at her. Then he exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before muttering under his breath, "I wasn't talking about you."

She blinked. "But I compliment you all the time."

"I know."

"And you don't mind."

"I don't."

"So then—"

"I was talking about Yue and his face."

"You don't like his face?" Yao tilted her head the other way.

From the couch, Yue looked personally attacked. "What the hell did I do?!"

Sicheng closed his eyes and muttered, "You were born that is what.."

But Yao just giggled softly, the confusion melting into that warm, shy sound that always made Sicheng's jaw unclench and his gaze flick just slightly lower—to her smile, to the curve of her lips, to the way she always did this to him without even trying. She walked past him, brushing her shoulder gently against his as she moved toward the sink, her voice quieter now. "I think compliments are good, Cheng-ge," she said. "Even yours. Even when you pretend they're not."

And just like that, he didn't have the will to ban anything anymore.

Not her smile.

Not her laugh.

And definitely not her compliments.