Xplendi's office had returned to its ordinary rhythm, but Yang Ruoqian no longer trusted ordinary rhythm. The new update proved his caution correct. It said Yang's refusal to reply made people read meaning into every gap. He read the line twice and felt the familiar pressure of a loss preparing to dress itself as achievement.
Yang Ruoqian's private calculation was still very professional. The plan around the Silence Becomes Texture Again matter had receipts, workflow, and enough normal business logic to pass the system's eyes. Better yet, the costs were concrete: small-hall rental, scattered operations, awkward audience sampling, slow feedback sorting, and uselessly detailed viewer notes. A normal boss would ask how to convert those costs into growth. Yang only cared whether the limited exposure could keep swallowing money without producing a number large enough to punish him.
