While Li Yan and I were playing corporate chess, another pair in the "Group of Seven" was stuck in their own slow-burn loop.
Zhang Wei was in the kitchen of The Zenith, plating a complex molecular dessert. He was a champion runner, a sportsperson, and a culinary genius, but he was a total coward when it came to the girl currently sitting at the bar.
Su Lan. She was staring at her laptop, her "IDGAF" energy radiating as she typed away at a security patch. She'd been coming to the restaurant every night for two years "for the Wi-Fi," even though she had the best internet in the city at her penthouse.
"It's too salty," Su Lan said without looking up as Zhang Wei placed a sample in front of her.
"It's dark chocolate sea-salt mousse, Lan," Zhang Wei sighed, leaning his elbows on the counter. "It's supposed to be salty. Just like your attitude."
Su Lan finally looked up, her glasses sliding down her nose. "If you wanted my attention, Wei, you could just ask for a code review. You don't have to keep inventing new desserts to get me to stay past closing."
Zhang Wei's ears turned bright red—the same shade as the strawberry glaze on the counter. "I'm not... it's just business. You're my best customer."
"I haven't paid for a meal in eighteen months," Su Lan pointed out, her voice softening just a fraction. "That's a terrible business model for a topper."
"Maybe I'm not looking for a 90% profit," Zhang Wei whispered, stepping closer. "Maybe I'm looking for a 100% commitment."
Su Lan froze. Her fingers stopped moving on the keyboard. For the first time in her life, the "Savage Genius" had no comeback. She reached out, her hand hovering over his, before pulling back and slamming her laptop shut.
"Your logic is flawed, Wei," she muttered, grabbing her bag. "Fix the mousse. I'll be back tomorrow to check the progress."
She walked out, her heart hammering against her ribs. Zhang Wei watched her go, a slow, determined smile spreading across his face.
"The loop is almost closed," he whispered to the empty kitchen.