Liang Chen was sitting in his sleek, minimalist office high above the city when he read CipherTruth's most recent response. A small, involuntary smile crossed his lips. He didn't smile like he usually did, which was the polite, practiced one for clients or the strained, strategic one for family. This was a real twitch of amusement, like disbelief.
He had thought of her as just another overly emotional idealist at first, someone whose passion would quickly fade in the face of the cold logic of the market. But here she was, not only standing her ground but also making new, complicated points that made him stop and think about more than just his short-term business goals. She wasn't just smart; she was smart and annoying and smart all the time.
He was almost looking forward to her next volley, which was a dangerous thought for a man who valued predictability and efficiency above all else. CipherTruth, this online persona, was a wild card he hadn't planned for, and it was oddly... exciting.
He leaned back, and the leather on his chair creaked softly. His office was usually a peaceful place where he could get away from the constant noise of family and corporate politics. But lately, it seemed a little too quiet and empty. These online debates, even though they were tense, filled a small, unexpected gap. No one in his real life ever pushed him like this. Liang Zhe and Liang Zixin, his cousins, were too busy trying to outsmart him, and his board members were too eager to agree. Even his kind father, Liang Ping, often let him have his way.
CipherTruth was a constant intellectual opponent who didn't care about his name or status. This freedom made for a level of argument that he didn't often have. He liked how honest she was, even when it hurt. It was strange to find intellectual comfort in an enemy, but he couldn't deny the feeling of recognition, of meeting a truly sharp mind.
Mei Lin was very angry in her small, well-lit home office miles away, where a half-eaten bowl of instant noodles sat next to her keyboard. Sentinel's most recent response was infuriatingly clever, twisting her words, but some of its criticisms of her idealistic point of view hit surprisingly close to home.
He wasn't just a troll; he was a great debater, and that hurt more than any simple insult. She muttered under her breath, "Arrogant, privileged rich kid," but she couldn't help but admire how well he phrased things. She had to admit that a small part of her was looking forward to seeing how he would try to counter her next point. She was determined to win, and it felt like a game of chess with high stakes.
Lin Yichen, her older brother, peeked into her room with a big smile on his face. "Still at it, Mei Lin?" he asked in a soft voice.
He was always so calm and steady, the picture of their parents' pride with his steady job in government. Mei Lin sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Yichen, he's making me mad." So very annoying.
She didn't say who "he" was or how deep the arguments were that she was having. Lin Yichen just nodded, noticing how focused she was and the small crease in her brow. He knew his sister well, including how passionate and fair she was. He knew that she put a lot of effort into what she believed in, whether it was a coding project or a fight online.
He just hoped she wasn't letting it take over her life. He was worried that she would burn out while trying to balance her Master's degree at Shanghai University with her new business.
The more they talked about it, the more Liang Chen tried to picture the person behind "CipherTruth." Was she a seasoned scholar? A journalist who is smarter than you? He imagined someone smart, maybe a little too intense, who probably didn't like to deal with fools. He started to mentally note her recurring themes without even realising it. These included a strong focus on individual rights, a clear distrust of unchecked corporate power, and an unexpected empathy for the weak.
These weren't just ideas to her; they meant a lot to her. In his world, every choice was based on profit margins and shareholder value, which was very different from this one. He still thought of her as a "idealist," but he couldn't shake the feeling that her ideals, even if they weren't very useful in the real world, were true in some way. He felt a grudging, almost unwilling, respect growing.
He also started to change the way he talked about things online, softening some of his harsher points of view and trying to frame his arguments in a way that might, just might, appeal to her sense of fairness, even though he still believed in progress. He didn't even realise he was making a small change.
He was so used to being the smartest person in the room that he set the rules. CipherTruth made him feel like he had to be better, to make his points clearer, and to think about other people's points of view. This mental sparring was sharpening his mind in a way that no board meeting ever could. It was a dangerous, thrilling dance that he never thought he would enjoy so much.
Mei Lin also tried to picture "Sentinel." She pictured someone in a sharp suit with a condescending smirk who probably lived in a gilded cage and had no idea what the average person was going through. But sometimes, there would be a hint of something else in his words—a hint of impatience, a rare admission that tech is complicated, or even a hint of frustration with things that aren't obvious. It was like seeing a person behind the corporate shield. She was also subconsciously changing her arguments, trying to guess what he would say in response and find the one point that would finally break through his seemingly unbreakable logic. She wanted to win him over, not just beat him.
During family dinners, she would talk to her parents, Lin Yuze and Wen Hua, about some of her problems (without giving away Sentinel's name). Her father, who was practical, would give her realistic business advice, and her mother would gently remind her how important it is to be nice, even when you're arguing.
Mei Lin would listen, but her mind would often go back to the puzzle of Sentinel that she couldn't solve. He was a force of nature and a brilliant thinker, and the more they argued, the more she felt a strange, almost magnetic pull. It was an interesting, frustrating, and all-consuming battle of wits, a connection made in the digital fire of disagreement, with no idea how much it would change her life.
She was putting more than just her brain into these debates; she was putting a part of her soul into them, pushing herself and, in turn, pushing the man she didn't know would soon become her husband.