"CSO," Feng stated, adjusting his specialized logic-processing spectacles. "Our first project, 'The Absolute Protocol,' requires us to neutralize all potential vulnerabilities. Your speed, combined with my precision, provides a 99.998\% success rate. The remaining 0.002\% is due to the illogical noise generated by the twins."
"Nonsense," Xiao Mei replied, happily chewing on a sour gummy worm. "The twins are the ultimate stress test. They represent pure, unquantifiable entropy."
Liang leaned against the wall, watching their intense, focused conversation. He was suddenly overwhelmed by intellectual jealousy. They were communicating in high-level code and logical theorems—a language he understood, but which he had never felt the need to use with Xiao Mei.
Liang interrupted them with a cold voice. "CSO, Feng. I am initiating Protocol: Marital Priority Check. Your continuous communication threatens overall stability. I require visual confirmation of loyalty."Feng frowned, calculating the CEO's illogical demand. "Chairman, a visual check requires 0.5 seconds. A physical check, however, could last up to 60 seconds, which is highly inefficient."
Xiao Mei, however, understood. She pulled Liang close and gave him a quick, affectionate, "Intellectual Jealousy Dissipation Kiss."
"Now, Hubby, let us focus," she said.
Feng turned back to the screen. "We must simulate the worst-case scenario. The ultimate threat to the Liang Group is not corporate espionage, but unquantifiable chaos."
"Which means?" Xiao Mei asked.
"We must simulate the twins hacking into the central treasury and exposing all of the Chairman's private, most embarrassing files," Feng stated robotically.
Liang blanched. "Wait, you mean the... the Gummy Worm Dance video is still on the main server?"
"It is," Feng confirmed. "And it is the only file that, if leaked, would generate enough stress to crash the entire system. It is the perfect vulnerability."Xiao Mei and Feng activated the simulation. The room was bathed in red light as the mainframe screamed a digitized warning: "SYSTEM OVERLOAD! TWIN ATTACK DETECTED!"
On the screen, two tiny, digitized avatars of Zhen and Xin appeared, their voices echoing loudly over the PA system.
"Attention, fools!" the Xin avatar yelled. "We demand all the gummy worms in the corporate supply! Fail to comply, and we will leak the 'Papa Dance File' to the global stock market!"
The threat was ridiculous, yet terrifying. The entire system metrics went haywire. Suddenly, the simulation glitched, a chaotic overflow caused by Xiao Mei's own programming.
A real alert flashed: "ACCESS TO FINANCIAL RESERVES INITIATED. UNKNOWN IP."
"CSO! That wasn't the simulation!" Liang roared, his CEO facade shattered. "They are actually accessing the account! We are about to be bankrupted by a five-year-old demanding candy!"
Feng, usually calm, began to rapidly tap his keyboard. "Illogical! The firewall failed! The entropy of the twins exceeds the calculated parameters!"The entire room was a state of high-stakes, hilarious panic. Liang knew the only way to stop Xiao Mei from hyper-focusing and crashing the system herself was to activate the final, most illogical protocol.
Liang stormed over to Xiao Mei, ignoring Feng's frantic typing. He grabbed his wife and lifted her onto his desk, giving her a deep, long kiss that was a clear system override of all coding logic.
"Cease all operations, CSO!" Liang commanded, pulling back just enough to speak. "I am enforcing Protocol 10: System Shutdown and Crisis Control Kiss! The only successful login must be mine!"
The kiss was fierce, possessive, and necessary. It was a chaotic, public assertion that her loyalty and focus belonged to him, not the code.
Feng watched the public display, his hand hovering over the keyboard. "Analysis complete," Feng mumbled. "Emotional proximity has stabilized the CSO's alpha waves. The security breach is closed... but highly inefficient."With the kiss successfully diverting Xiao Mei's focus, the breach closed. The twins were offline, presumably busy counting their "earnings."
"Report, CSO," Liang murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
"Report: Breach closed. Efficiency rating 0\%. Romance rating 100\%."
As they were recovering, Feng's perfect logic system detected a tiny, residual data packet that hadn't been accounted for—neither part of the simulation nor the twins' chaotic activity.
"CSO," Feng called out, his voice now entirely devoid of emotion. "I detected a fifth, unknown signature during the breach. It is not logical, nor is it chaotic. Its coding style is entirely sentimental."
A single, final message appeared on the screen, written in a beautiful, flowing font—a style no hacker would ever use:
"Don't worry, Xiao Mei. I just wanted to check if you were happy in this world. I miss your smile. – M."
Xiao Mei froze. The initial System had erased the memory of her original family, but the letter M and the word "smile" resonated with a deep, forgotten pain. Who was this new, sentimental threat, and why were they checking on her happiness?