[Audio] She’s a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist’s Halo – CH41-50

Chapter 41

Yuan Ye’s remark, “Keep it a secret,” immediately made A-Yan and Zhu Jue sense that something was off.

What could the two of them possibly need to keep secret?

A-Yan looked bewildered. “Us? We don’t have anything to hide, do we?”

She spoke tactfully, “Did you perhaps misunderstand something?”

Seeing their reactions, Yuan Ye was momentarily confused but then quickly understood.

Ah, they’re acting again. Just like last time when he transformed into a female ghost, they pretended nothing had happened.

Alright, he got it now. This was one of those “understood but not spoken” situations. After all, the convention center was filled with surveillance, and it wasn’t safe to communicate openly. A tacit understanding would have to suffice.

Yuan Ye smiled faintly. “Ah, yes, I must have misunderstood.”

Hearing this, A-Yan and Zhu Jue should have felt relieved, but Yuan Ye’s expression—a knowing “I get it”—left them both uneasy.

A-Yan fell silent. Zhu Jue fell silent. So, Yuan Ye, what exactly did you misunderstand?!

A-Yan carefully recalled their interactions. Truthfully, she and Zhu Jue hadn’t spent much time alone with Yuan Ye. Their meals together had always been with the entire male dorm, and this convention outing was a group activity too. The only time they’d been alone with him was that incident on campus when Ding Ling had urgently called them, and they’d seen Yuan Ye transformed into a female ghost. But back then, they hadn’t done anything—just pretended not to see him.

Could that have been what Yuan Ye misunderstood? But what exactly did he think had happened?!

Their silence seemed to confirm Yuan Ye’s assumptions. A-Yan hesitated before speaking, “Actually, what I meant was, having preferences for clothing is perfectly normal.”

“Clothes themselves aren’t gendered. The distinction between men’s and women’s clothing is just a societal construct, created to meet certain demands,” Zhu Jue added.

“Ultimately, clothing is just a way to cover the body. Both in ancient China and throughout history abroad, there have been times when men wore robes and women wore dresses. The idea that men wear pants and women wear skirts is just a product of societal norms at different times. Everyone has a love for beauty, and personal taste is just that—personal, ordinary, and free.”

A-Yan thought that after saying all this, Yuan Ye would surely understand what she and Zhu Jue had been trying to convey earlier.

But instead, Yuan Ye looked at them with genuine emotion. “A-Yan, Brother Jue, you two are truly wonderful.”

Though he could tell they were deliberately avoiding the topic of his identity, he could also sense that A-Yan’s words came from the heart. Neither of them was judging him with any prejudice. Faced with Yuan Ye’s sincere gratitude and understanding, A-Yan fell silent again.

“Whether you’re a boy or a girl, it’s important to protect yourself when you’re out and about,” she said slowly.

“Mm-hmm,” Yuan Ye nodded, still moved.

“Are you two interested in going backstage? Is there any particular guest you’d like to meet? I can help arrange a photo or an autograph.”

A-Yan shook her head. While she enjoyed watching anime, she wasn’t one to chase after real-life celebrities.

“It’s fine, you go ahead. We’ll just wander around on our own.”

It was already 2 PM, and the convention would end at 5 PM. Even the backstage staff would likely leave by 6 PM.

“Has Brother Fan arrived yet?” Yuan Ye asked.

“Yes, he said he was at the Swordsman’s Journey booth. Sister Lin Lu’s company is adapting Swordsman’s Journey into an anime series, so they came to check out the buzz. But they didn’t stay long—they took their kid to the aquarium,” A-Yan explained.

Earlier, Lin Fan had sent a message in the group chat, which Zhu Jue had shown her. The two of them had decided not to crowd the company’s booth. Yuan Ye’s performance for the day was over. After some thought, he sent a message to Uncle Xiao and checked if Ye Ping’an had finished his livestream.

“Should we all grab dinner together?” he asked.

A-Yan thought about it. “Probably not. Lin Fan and the others aren’t here, and I imagine most of us will have bought things. My roommate has a lot of freebies, and carrying stuff around while eating would be inconvenient. Plus, the area around the convention center will be packed after the event ends.”

Besides, the two dorm groups weren’t particularly close. Even if she, Zhu Jue, and Chu Shen tried to lighten the mood, it might just make things more awkward. There was no need to force a gathering—it wasn’t like they were organizing a mixer.

Yuan Ye agreed. “Alright. I’ll go find Uncle Xiao. You two take your time. Check in the group chat to see when everyone wants to meet up or if we should leave separately. It’s going to be a madhouse when the event ends, and the subway will be packed.”

They weren’t kids anymore—they didn’t need to stick together everywhere.

Yuan Ye left to find Xiao Qingnang. After he was gone, A-Yan started searching for the “Magical Girl Performance” on her phone.

“#Bin City CG Carnival# I saw the magical girls!!! The cosplayers were so accurate, I could cry.”

“The highlight was when the witches chanted their spells—we could actually see the magic swirling. I’m crying, thank you to the organizers for making this dream come true!”

“Magic? What magic? What did I miss?”

“Seeing magic? How many actors did Bin City CG Carnival hire? They’re really pushing the hype!”

“First, there was the rich lady, then the Chinese Master Chef golden fried rice, and now magical girls unleashing magic? You anime fans really know how to have fun!”

From what A-Yan could see, the magical girl performance had garnered some attention, but it wasn’t as explosive as Chu Bingbing’s cash-splashing or Chu Shen’s golden fried rice. One major reason was that the “magic” had only appeared for a brief moment. While many people had been recording, the effect in the videos looked more like on-site special effects.

Now, some were accusing the organizers of staging the event for publicity, while others were thanking them for making their dreams come true. Various topics about the convention were trending, even drawing the attention of some “real-world” netizens.

A wealthy lady throwing money? Let’s check it out!

Golden fried rice from Chinese Master Chef? Is it real? Let’s see! Magical girl transformations in real life? Let’s take a look!

A-Yan and Zhu Jue scrolled through the related topics. Aside from those, there were only a few other highlights, like a booth featuring a celebrity appearance or some quirky cosplayers causing a stir. Just to be safe, A-Yan and Zhu Jue checked in with their dorm group chats to see what everyone was up to.

[Gu Jiasui]: [photo.jpg][photo.jpg]

A-Yan couldn’t help but laugh at the photos Gu Jiasui had sent. In them, Chu Bingbing was frantically buying “doujinshi.” After filling a suitcase with freebies earlier, she had somehow acquired another bag and was now agonizing over which books to buy. A-Yan examined the photos closely. Hmm, she hadn’t bought too many—hopefully, there wouldn’t be any drama.

[Yi Zhi]: [photo.jpg]

Huh? Yi Zhi had also sent a photo. Wait, why was it of a flower bed? Where had she gone? A-Yan was puzzled. This didn’t look like it was taken at the convention center. Had Yi Zhi snuck out, or had she gotten lost?

[A-Yan]: Yi Zhi, are you still at the convention center?

[Yi Zhi]: It was too crowded and stuffy, so I stepped out for some air. There’s a flower market nearby, so I came to check it out. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave, and we can meet at the subway.

Visiting a flower market—that was so like Yi Zhi, the agriculture student and wood-elemental ability user. Browsing a market didn’t seem like it would cause any trouble, so A-Yan felt a bit more at ease.

Meanwhile, in the 414 boys’ dorm group chat, everyone had checked in. Yuan Ye was about to meet up with Xiao Qingnang, Ye Ping’an had finished his livestream and was wandering around, and Lin Fan wasn’t there. After confirming the whereabouts of all the key figures, A-Yan suddenly realized someone was missing.

Ding Ling? Where had Ding Ling gone? Why hadn’t she said anything in the group chat?

Thinking about Ding Ling’s unique identity compared to the others, A-Yan’s expression began to twist. At a crowded convention like this, with so much Yang energy, Ding Ling, the Ghost King, should be fine… right?

A-Yan touched the bell bracelet on her wrist, her heart suddenly filled with unease. She remembered that when they arrived in the morning, everyone had split up, and Ding Ling seemed to have noticed something before hurrying off.

Did Ding Ling see the official acquaintance she had mentioned, or did she go off to handle some other matter?

Ding Ling hadn’t responded for a while. A-Yan glanced at the time and asked in the group chat if they should leave an hour early to avoid the crowd. They could grab a meal near the school afterward.

Yi Zhi, Chu Bingbing, and Gu Jiasui all replied with an “OK.” A-Yan privately “patted” Ding Ling in the chat, but she still didn’t respond, as if she were caught up in something.

Ding Ling was indeed caught up—more accurately, she was dealing with a very persistent individual. From the moment she followed her roommates to this unfamiliar comic convention, Ding Ling’s worldview and understanding of life had been constantly challenged.

Could it be that young people nowadays dared to imitate figures like Buddha, Bodhisattvas, Taoist deities, and heavenly lords through something called “cosplay”?

Compared to the era she came from, this modern age truly felt like a “gathering of demons and heretics.”

The convention was packed with people. When Ding Ling spotted a “zombie,” she couldn’t help but follow them.

The person was dressed in a Qing dynasty official robe, their face painted stark white, a string of court beads around their neck, a crown on their head, and a yellow talisman stuck to their face. Their arms were stretched out as they hopped forward in a classic zombie pose.

This was clearly not the kind of zombie Ding Ling was familiar with, but rather a modern reinterpretation from horror media. Living zombies, flying zombies, blood zombies—none of them were this well-dressed. The legends of drought demons causing widespread devastation were no mere tales.

But even Ding Ling, a ghost king, had to admit that the living had a more terrifying imagination. This portrayal was genuinely unsettling. The zombie cosplayer was accompanied by a friend dressed as a Taoist priest. The fake priest held a horsetail whisk, wore a yellow robe with a yin-Yang symbol, and had Buddhist scriptures printed on the front. He even carried an alms bowl, pretending to collect donations.

Ding Ling followed the two, and instead of shooing her away, they seemed delighted, even offering the alms bowl to her. Other onlookers tossed coins into the bowl. After confirming that they were just cosplayers having fun, Ding Ling left. She had been unearthed by an archaeological team less than half a year ago and, despite cramming a lot of modern knowledge, still lagged behind those who had grown up immersed in contemporary culture and entertainment.

For example—When she saw a “monster” with animal ears and a fox tail, Ding Ling almost called to report a half-transformed demon on the loose.

As she wandered further, Ding Ling grew increasingly uneasy. Although she could rely on scent to identify beings, the sheer number of people made it necessary to get closer. There were monks, Taoist priests, foreign exorcists, shrine maidens, and even Western wizards. Seeing so many outfits that diverged from traditional Chinese mysticism, Ding Ling even wondered for a moment if she had stumbled into an enemy encampment.

Ding Ling took photos of several suspicious individuals. She didn’t report them to the group to avoid causing a stir but instead used image recognition to confirm they were all characters from movies, anime, or games. Only after verifying they had no unusual aura did she feel at ease. From morning till afternoon, Ding Ling quietly “tracked” numerous cosplayers, marking and confirming each one.

“The sixty-seventh one, confirmed as an anime character, no issues.” Ding Ling deleted the “demon hunter” from her list of potential threats, only to hear about a “magical girl casting spells and seeing magic.”

She hurriedly asked around and rushed to the stage area, but the performance was by a group of traditional opera influencers, their singing soul-stirring but devoid of any magical energy.

When Ding Ling inquired further, someone told her, “Oh, that’s just a gimmick by the organizers. Everyone says it’s special effects.”

The person shared a video of the event with Ding Ling, who realized she couldn’t distinguish between magic and special effects.

However, at that moment, Ding Ling felt a sense of relief. Because she spotted A-Yan and her boyfriend in a nearby corner. Whether the magic incident was real or not, with A-Yan here, she could rest easy! This was A-Yan, after all!

Only then did she have time to check the group chat. Earlier, she had muted notifications to use her browser and shopping app for image searches.

[Ding Ling]: I’m fine. Let’s meet up when we leave.

Ding Ling sent a quick message. She didn’t want to intrude on the couple. As a member of the special cases team, she had access to official resources and had volunteered to investigate here, but she couldn’t expect the same from others. High standards should be for oneself, not imposed on others.

“Damn, that ghost girl looks so real. Good thing it’s daylight, or I’d be scared to death.”

“Whoa, is she hiding a robot vacuum under her skirt?”

“Probably some kind of hoverboard. Her dress is so long, but it’s not getting caught. It really gives off that horror movie vibe!”

“Which ghost movie is she from? The white-dressed ghost looks familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Me neither, but this long-haired ghost girl is a pretty common trope in movies and anime.”

Hearing the chatter, Ding Ling turned sharply toward the source. There stood a young woman in a floor-length white gown. Her entire body, from the shoulders down, was draped in the white fabric, which looked more like a bedsheet with a hole cut out for her head.

Her face was unnaturally pale, even whiter than someone wearing a thick layer of foundation, with a sickly greenish tint and no trace of color. Her wet, black hair hung over her face, and her arms were hidden beneath the sheet. Aside from the sliver of her neck and her pale face peeking through the hair, no other features were visible.

Her limbs and torso were concealed, and an unseen breeze made her sheet-like gown flutter, giving her an ethereal, ghostly appearance as she glided forward in a straight line. Many people were already pulling out their phones to take photos and videos. Compared to the other quirky acts, like the quantum Buddha with an electronic donation box, this ghostly figure perfectly captured the essence of human fear.

People marveled, “The makeup and costume are spot on. Is she wearing some kind of micro-controller? Someone must be operating the hoverboard under her.”

“This is true performance art. I declare her the winner of today’s horror and supernatural category!”

“Did you feel that chilly breeze when she passed by? I bet she’s got a mini fan hidden under there.”

“Ha, probably! Look how the sheet is fluttering!”

Unlike the amused onlookers, Ding Ling was on high alert. She discreetly followed with her phone, blending in with the crowd of curious spectators. As she moved forward, Ding Ling glanced at the onlookers, silently hoping they wouldn’t get any closer. Because this “white-dressed ghost” cosplayer was radiating genuine yin energy. Not the kind one might pick up from passing a cemetery or a brief encounter with the supernatural. This was the real deal—deep, permeating yin energy.

Possession. The girl before her was undoubtedly being possessed by a ghost. Her floating posture and the aura of yin energy surrounding her confirmed it. Ding Ling’s expression turned serious. This was no laughing matter. Especially with the convention so crowded, she couldn’t be sure of the ghost’s intentions.

She had to nip this danger in the bud! Most people took a few photos or videos before moving on, not following the ghostly figure further. Hurry, hurry! Where was she going? What was she planning? Where should Ding Ling intercept her?

Ding Ling had been chasing the white-clad female ghost all this time, watching her glide gracefully through the performance area, then make her way to the food section, followed by the exhibition booths and vendor zones…

It was as if the ghost was toying with her! The ghost did nothing but wander around aimlessly, and Ding Ling began to suspect that she might have accidentally revealed her own ghostly aura, alerting the ghost to her presence.

Wherever the white-clad ghost went, she instantly became the center of attention, drawing countless gazes. Ding Ling was convinced that the ghost was doing this on purpose. With so many people around, there was little she could do.

This reminded Ding Ling of the time when she had just been “dug out.” Back then, she was so curious about the outside world that she refused to listen to the Special Case Team and wandered wherever she pleased, deliberately trying to lose or toy with the team leader who was in charge of her at the time.

At this moment, Ding Ling thought: Team Leader, I’m sorry. I was wrong. While chasing the ghost, Ding Ling noticed that the ghost seemed to be either lost or simply meandering, as she eventually circled back to the performance area. Just then, Ding Ling’s phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, Ding Ling’s pupils contracted. It was A-Yan! Had A-Yan also noticed the ghost?
Ding Ling answered the call while continuing to follow the ghost’s trail.

“Hello, A-Yan.”

“Hey, where are you? It’s almost 4 o’clock, the convention is about to end, and we need to leave.” Since Ding Ling had only sent a brief message earlier and then gone silent, A-Yan decided to call directly.

A-Yan was holding her phone with one hand while linking arms with Zhu Jue with the other. As she spoke, she suddenly noticed the white-clad ghost floating toward them. At the same time, A-Yan spotted Ding Ling, who was about three meters behind the ghost, answering her phone. She also noticed the faint halo above Ding Ling’s head. A-Yan glanced at Ding Ling, then at the white-clad ghost sandwiched between them. Something felt off.

Ding Ling wouldn’t be chasing an ordinary cosplayer dressed as a ghost. Which meant… this disheveled figure draped in a bedsheet might actually be a real ghost? This white-clad ghost, with no halo above her head, wasn’t some transformation of Yuan Ye.

A-Yan couldn’t fathom why a ghost would suddenly appear at the convention. Had someone at one of the booths summoned her with a game like the Spirit Board?

Putting aside her wild thoughts, A-Yan focused on the situation at hand. If Ding Ling was chasing the ghost to deal with her, then she couldn’t leave with the others. It would likely be like that time at the antique street, requiring some post-event cleanup.

Thinking this, A-Yan spoke into the phone, “The convention is about to close. Are you coming with us?”

On the other end, Ding Ling was momentarily confused. A-Yan had clearly seen the ghost, so what did she mean by that question?

Before Ding Ling could figure it out, the white-clad ghost suddenly stopped. She stopped! The ghost seemed ready to bolt, but with A-Yan and Ding Ling closing in from both sides, this was the perfect opportunity.

Ding Ling stepped forward and used her ghostly energy to restrain the white-clad ghost. Dressed in all black, Ding Ling wrapped her arms around the ghost, her pale complexion matching the eerie scene. Seeing how easily Ding Ling had captured the ghost, A-Yan felt relieved.

“I’ll leave this to you, then. We’re heading out?” A-Yan said.

Ding Ling nodded, watching as A-Yan and Zhu Jue walked away. The white-clad ghost, now restrained, remained completely still, as if lifeless. Suddenly, Ding Ling realized that A-Yan’s earlier words over the phone might not have been directed at her.

“The convention is about to close. Are you coming with us?” At the time, A-Yan had been facing the ghost. Though it seemed like she was talking on the phone, she might have actually been addressing the ghost!

She was asking the ghost if it wanted to leave with them. The ghost had stopped abruptly and tried to flee in Ding Ling’s direction because she was afraid! She didn’t want to go with A-Yan and the others! A glint of realization flashed in Ding Ling’s eyes. This white-clad ghost must have sensed something. To avoid A-Yan’s threat, she had chosen to fall into Ding Ling’s hands instead.

What did this mean? Considering the implications, it was terrifying! And what about that red-clad ghost who had suddenly disappeared last time?

Hiss! So, was A-Yan’s family one of those infamous ghost-hunting clans? Their reputation must be truly fearsome!

***

Chapter 40

After a while, A-Yan came back with a black-and-white manga-themed T-shirt, and Zhu Jue accompanied Chu Shen to the restroom to change.

“The one you were wearing earlier got stained with cooking oil. Remember to wash it separately when you get back,” she casually reminded him.

Chu Shen nodded repeatedly, secretly checking the affection points between the two. Thankfully, it remained at ten points and hadn’t dropped.

After handing the bag with the clothes to Chu Shen, A-Yan and Zhu Jue, whose plans had been interrupted again, glanced at him.

“Why don’t you go find Brother Xiao?” Zhu Jue suggested tentatively.

“Anyway, don’t go back to the food area,” A-Yan added.

Chu Shen’s appearance wasn’t particularly memorable, but once you noticed him, he was easy to recognize.

Especially since, by chance, a customer from the Chu Family Eatery had spotted him at the event. If Chu Shen got caught, he might have to endure a tearful tirade from the customer right then and there.

Earlier, A-Yan had also bought a colorful anime-themed face mask, which made Chu Shen look much more exaggerated when he put it on.

Chu Shen gave a thumbs-up. “I’ll head to an area far from the food section.”

After A-Yan and Zhu Jue left, he turned around and went back into the restroom. At the fried rice station in the food area earlier, Chu Shen had unexpectedly triggered and completed a hidden mission from the Chef God System. He had been dragged away by the two before he could take a closer look.

[Hidden Mission: Astonish the Crowd] [Mission Description: Amaze everyone with your cooking skills when they know nothing about you.] [Mission Reward: Recipe for Braised Pork with Potatoes.]

A new recipe! Chu Shen was thrilled. Although “Braised Pork with Potatoes” seemed like a simple dish, fried rice was also simple, yet it had won over every customer. Who would have thought he’d unlock a hidden mission at a comic convention? Today was definitely worth it!

To be honest, Chu Shen was getting a bit tired of fried rice himself, so this new dish came at the perfect time. Finally, he could switch things up.

“I think Yi Zhi mentioned potatoes among the ingredients,” Chu Shen thought to himself. He could use the new ingredients to test the recipe.

Braised Pork with Potatoes was much more convenient than fried rice. He could cook two large pots at once, sell out by noon, and be done. Unlike fried rice, which he had to cook plate by plate. However, the recipe didn’t specify whether the meat should be pork, chicken, or beef. Could he use any of them?

Given the pricing at the Chu Family Eatery, beef was the obvious choice. But Chu Shen decided he’d try all three before making a final decision.

Meanwhile, A-Yan and Zhu Jue checked the situation online using their phones.

#Bin City Comic Con Shocked by the Appearance of a Modern-Day Xia Guo Cooking Prodigy! Golden Fried Rice!

The trending hashtag already had videos of Chu Shen flipping the wok and the mesmerized expressions of those who had tasted his fried rice.

“Oh my god, I literally exploded! Just one bite of that mysterious guy’s fried rice, and I couldn’t believe how good it was. Tears.jpg”

“Is this a publicity stunt by the organizers? Seems too over-the-top.”

“It’s not a stunt! I was there, and I can vouch for it! The host randomly picked people, and I was standing next to the guy. Everyone backed away, but he didn’t react in time and got pulled up. Turns out, he’s the real deal! I only got one bite, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Where is this guy?!”

“Someone find that customer who dragged him up! Which restaurant does this guy own? They said his surname was ‘Chu,’ but I can’t find anything.”

Since the video captured Chu Shen’s face from multiple angles, and the tweet was quickly reposted, it soon spread to other platforms.

Then, a comment from a local Bin City user on a certain video platform was screenshotted and shared back on Weibo.

“Isn’t that Boss Chu? His restaurant was closed today because he went to the comic con to cook fried rice! Traitor!!!”

Now everyone finally knew the mysterious fried rice guy’s surname was “Chu,” not “Chu.”

Bin City local, Chu, fried rice, restaurant owner—these clues combined led to a wave of online sleuthing across various food review platforms.

“Guys, I found it!!! On Orange Review, search for Chu Family Eatery. It’s definitely this one!”

“Wait, am I seeing this right? 288 yuan per person, and they only serve fried rice?”

The Bin City Comic Con was always a hot topic every year. During the event, not only did anime-related bloggers post about it, but even many marketing accounts jumped on the trending topics for clout.

At that moment, A-Yan noticed a gossip account clearly trying to ride the wave.

[Brother Melon Online]: #Bin City CG Carnival# It’s that time of year again! First, a wealthy fan spent 520,000 yuan on merchandise, and now a mysterious modern-day Xia Guo cooking prodigy has appeared, cooking golden fried rice. [LOL] The world of anime is truly wild.

The post included a few poorly cropped screenshots with watermarks still intact.

A-Yan and Zhu Jue silently forwarded the post to the two involved parties, especially Chu Shen. With the Chu Family Eatery exposed, getting a meal there would probably be even harder now.

The sudden surge in attention for the Chu Family Eatery might not be a “stroke of luck” for Chu Shen. With limited capacity and his studies, he could only open the restaurant one or two days a week, catering mostly to regulars.

The comic con on Saturday was packed with people. Parents brought their kids, some clearly clueless but tagging along anyway. Some parents dragged suitcases to help their kids shop, while others adjusted their children’s cosplay outfits.

“Excuse me, do you know where the Magic Girl performance is?”

While A-Yan and Zhu Jue were scrolling through trending topics on their phones, a slightly balding middle-aged man approached them, clutching a colorful A4 printout like a lifeline.

“My daughter said the Magic Girl would be performing and signing autographs today. She made me promise to get her a video and an autograph,” the man said, wiping sweat from his brow.

A-Yan glanced at his printout, then checked her own carnival map. “Uncle, the performance isn’t in this area. You need to go to…”

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she read the name on the printout. Wait, one of the Magic Girl group leaders was named “Yuan Ye”?

Seeing that name, A-Yan suddenly felt a weight in her chest.

It’s probably just a coincidence, right?

But considering Yuan Ye’s behavior earlier and how he refused to let them find him… the chances of this “Yuan Ye” being the same person were way too high.

Feeling resigned, she decided to guide the man to the performance area herself.

“Thank you so much, young lady and young man. You’re so kind. No wonder my daughter said that even though people here might seem a bit strange, they’re all good-hearted.”

With A-Yan and Zhu Jue’s help, the man successfully found the Magic Girl group his daughter had asked him to line up for.

“No problem, no problem. You’re too kind,” the two replied, waving off the compliment.

A-Yan looked up at the performance stage, checking the carnival map for the schedule of performances and signings.

Some specially invited cosplayers, actors, or voice actors would perform on stage and then sign autographs afterward.

“The Magic Girl performance starts in ten minutes. I need to get in line,” the man said, bidding them farewell.

“Magic Girl… which anime is that from? Or is it just a cosplay group?” A-Yan whispered to Zhu Jue.

After all, Magic Girls were a staple in shoujo anime, appearing in countless series.

Their casual attire made it clear they weren’t hardcore fans, and sometimes insiders could be dismissive of outsiders. A-Yan didn’t want to draw attention, so the two quietly looked it up on their phones.

A-Yan quickly found out it was a cosplay performance based on the anime Yes! Magic Girl!, which followed five high school girls with distinct personalities who were chosen by another world to transform into Magic Girls, juggling school life by day and saving the world by night.

“They’re coming!”

“It’s starting! My daughters!!!”

A-Yan and Zhu Jue stood facing the stage, but since they had arrived a bit late with the bald uncle, even though they tried to squeeze in, they ended up somewhere around the middle. The front-row audience had already raised their phones and cameras, ready to capture the moment. Accompanied by upbeat music, five girls of varying heights and styles, all wearing wigs, appeared on stage. They sang and danced in perfect unison, while the large screen behind them played the theme song.

“Ahhhhhh—”

“So cute, so cute!”

The five girls, each dressed in different colored outfits, took turns being the center of attention, performing signature transformations and moves straight out of an anime. The one codenamed “Black” was a gothic-style witch in a long classical dress that revealed half her legs. The witch in a white floral dress smiled warmly, radiating kindness. The red-haired witch in shorts and a high ponytail wore fiery red gloves. The hooded, purple-robed girl holding a crystal ball wand murmured incantations with her head bowed. And the blue-haired girl sang with a voice as enchanting as a siren’s.

To the fans in the audience, it felt like the characters from the anime had come to life. Cold, mysterious, gentle, or cheerful—the girls on stage perfectly embodied their characters through their movements, expressions, and costumes. They didn’t wave or blow kisses, staying completely in character without any out-of-character moments.

But A-Yan’s gaze kept drifting toward the tall figure with long black hair, a hood, and a crystal ball wand.

After all—The words “Girls’ Dress-Up Game” were impossible to ignore!

So much so that A-Yan couldn’t help but wonder whether the other four magical girls on stage were played by boys or girls!

The main stage offered a high vantage point. Even though Yuan Ye, playing “Purple,” was the perpetually half-asleep, mysterious witch, he still easily spotted his roommate in the crowd below.

Zhu Jue, and his girlfriend, A-Yan. The moment Yuan Ye saw them, his pupils contracted. Thankfully, he had trained himself to remain calm in all sorts of cross-dressing situations, and today’s costume covered most of his face, so no one noticed his momentary panic.

Why did these two suddenly show up here?

They shouldn’t recognize me, right?

When it was Yuan Ye’s turn to take the center stage, he remained composed, deliberately avoiding glancing at A-Yan and Zhu Jue.

But, but… he felt like they were staring right at him! That prickling sensation on his back, especially with their intense gaze—could they really have recognized him?

No way, right? They didn’t know about his cross-dressing, and with today’s outfit, anyone would just see him as a magical girl. His face was mostly covered, after all.

Sweat dripped down Yuan Ye’s back as he suddenly remembered the promotional preview the organizers had sent him after confirming his appearance.

It featured his cross-dressing look and his online alias, “Yuan Ye.”

At this moment, Yuan Ye wanted to scream at himself internally. Could A-Yan and Zhu Jue have seen that and come here to check it out?

Stupid lazy me! Why did I have to use such an obvious name? Even something like “Lemon Tea” would’ve been better!

“Yuan Ye” was now a well-known cross-dressing cosplayer, with many people even believing he was actually a girl.

The characters “Yuan Ye” had portrayed were too perfect—doll-like, snow princesses, villainous noblewomen, savage fox girls…

The widely circulated images of him weren’t from anime or novels but were actually based on character designs from a girls’ dress-up game!

But when he appeared in these roles, especially with extravagant wigs or animal ears and costumes that looked straight out of an anime or game, Yuan Ye was simply seen as a “cosplayer.”

Being called a cosplayer was better than being outright labeled a cross-dressing guy. And so, thanks to the system’s tasks, Yuan Ye had inexplicably gained fame and amassed a group of loyal cosplay fans.

This was also why he had received ten free tickets to the annual Bin City CG Carnival.

“Yuan Ye” had truly made a name for himself.

Thinking about this, the manly Yuan Ye couldn’t help but shed a tear. From the initial awkwardness of cross-dressing to now being completely natural, who knew how much he had been through!

Although he had come to accept his identity as a cross-dressing cosplayer, it would still be mortifying if his real-life friends found out about his online persona!

Even though his roommates were good people, Yuan Ye still worried. If he were just a regular male cosplayer, people would accept him, but being a cross-dressing guy? That would definitely make him seem like a weirdo—like people might question his sexual orientation or something.

And his cross-dressing identity could even attract creepy people with inappropriate intentions! Yuan Ye had so many regrets. Despite his internal turmoil, Yuan Ye flawlessly executed all the choreography and interactions with his fellow performers on stage.

The theme song and ending performances were coming to an end. Finally, it was time for the five magical girls to step forward one by one and deliver their signature lines. Just then, Yuan Ye heard the voice of his idiotic system in his ear.

[System detecting host is currently in a stage PK…]

[System detecting host’s current outfit is “Magical Girl” and the number of PK participants is greater than 1. Automatically initiating forced PK match…]

Yuan Ye: I…you, stupid system! Stop, stop right now! Yuan Ye froze. Damn this system! Of all times to start a PK, why now? And it’s automatic? He was going to lose his mind.

There was no daily task today, so why did it suddenly initiate a PK? If he won this PK and transformed into a magical girl on stage, it would literally look like superpowers had appeared. Yuan Ye had never wished so hard to lose a PK.

At that moment, the other magical girls had already stepped forward and delivered their lines. Yuan Ye suppressed his internal curses toward the system. Holding his crystal ball wand, he lowered his voice, adding a husky tone to his falsetto, making him sound even more mysterious. He muttered a magical incantation.

Translated, it meant: “Magic flows through my hands.”

At that moment, Yuan Ye saw a series of indicators only visible to him.

[Magical] [Mysterious] [Sorcery]—tags appeared around him, each with a rating.

He forced himself to keep a straight face as he saw the words “PK Victory” flash before his eyes. At the same time, the five magical girls reached the climax of their performance. They needed to chant a final spell together.

“Magic will bless you—” “Welcome to the world of magic—”

In that instant, everyone in the audience seemed to hear the whispers of the magical girls. The mysterious incantation stirred an invisible wave of magic. A-Yan saw it. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly. The wave of magic swept over the audience, leaving behind something intangible, yet nothing at all. Because the PK victory and the chanting of the spell happened simultaneously, Yuan Ye couldn’t retract the magic buff he had activated.

In that moment, everyone seemed to fall into the same illusion, seeing a kaleidoscope of colors swirling before their eyes. They saw the flow of magic! The next second, the venue erupted in cheers.

“Ahhhhh—Oh my god, I think I saw magic!” “Did my eyes just play tricks on me? Did you see it too?”
“Red, green, blue, white—wait, was that a reflection on my glasses?” “Was it like streams of light, flowing?” “Is this mass hysteria or something?” “I don’t care, I definitely saw magic!”

As Yuan Ye retreated from the stage, he overheard the audience’s excited chatter, and his heart raced. After chanting the spell, he had immediately deactivated the buff, but he hadn’t expected the incantation to actually give the audience a glimpse of the magical world. This is bad, this is really bad. What if someone investigates this? Let’s just call it mass hysteria and be done with it.

Please, just pretend the organizers set up some lasers or rays or something. Yuan Ye saw A-Yan and Zhu Jue standing in the middle of the crowd, their calm demeanor starkly contrasting with everyone else. His heart, which had been hanging by a thread, leaped into his throat again.

Are these two so calm because they saw it, or because they didn’t?

Earlier, Yuan Ye had speculated that A-Yan and Zhu Jue might be involved in some kind of mystical, esoteric field.

The fact that they could remain unfazed even after seeing a female ghost, and now witnessing the appearance of magical energy without batting an eye—could it be because they’ve always been able to see it?

A-Yan and Zhu Jue are into Eastern mysticism, so if they have the ability to see spirits, wouldn’t magical energy and spiritual energy be essentially the same thing?

Sitting at the signing table, Yuan Ye, with a sullen expression, signed his online name while wearing gloves, all the while stealing glances at the crowd and pondering.

The event schedule was tight—half an hour for performances and half an hour for signings. Despite having seen all sorts of otaku culture, Yuan Ye couldn’t help but sweat a little when a balding uncle happily received his autograph.

“This is great! My daughter will be so happy. I couldn’t find the place at first, but a young lady and her boyfriend helped me get here,” the balding uncle said to Yuan Ye.

“They’re really nice,” the uncle added, waving happily toward A-Yan and Zhu Jue in the crowd.

Seeing this, Yuan Ye’s eyelid twitched. “Was it the girl in the tank top with the little bun and her boyfriend who brought you here?”

“Yes, yes! They’re such good people,” the uncle replied.

Yuan Ye’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the balding uncle. Well, well, old man, so you’re the one who brought the enemy—no, I mean, you’re the one who led them here!

No wonder A-Yan and Zhu Jue showed up here. With a heavy heart, he asked, “Would you like me to write anything else for your daughter?”

“Oh, is that allowed? My daughter told me not to make any special requests,” the uncle said, pleasantly surprised and even more delighted.

Yuan Ye nodded solemnly. After the thirty-minute signing session ended, he changed out of his costume. With his duties for the day complete and having returned to his male form, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Seeing Yuan Ye successfully exit the signing area with the other magical girls, A-Yan and Zhu Jue both breathed a sigh of relief. Good, although there was a small unexpected hiccup, this one didn’t require them to step in as emergency helpers. With the workload split among five people, A-Yan and Zhu Jue were able to enjoy the show as mere spectators.

“Jue, we’ve been standing for so long. Let’s find a place to rest,” A-Yan said. The performance area only had standing room, and after half an hour, her feet were starting to ache.

The two found a spot nearby. Since new cosplayers were now performing and the lines were forming, A-Yan quickly spotted a bench in a corner where there weren’t many people.

With just the two of them there, they could speak freely. A-Yan leaned her head on Zhu Jue’s shoulder, her little head swaying slightly. “Jue, you have to admit, Yuan Ye’s performance was really impressive and true to the character.”

The mysterious magical girl vibe was absolutely spot-on!

Just as Yuan Ye, now changed out of his costume, was sneaking out of the backstage area, he overheard this comment. He froze in place.

So, they really recognized me? Could it be that A-Yan and Zhu Jue used their spiritual sight to identify me?

In those few seconds, countless thoughts raced through Yuan Ye’s mind. Should I come clean? Do I have to? Is there no other way?

With heavy steps, he walked forward, lips pressed together, and approached the two.

Yuan Ye spoke awkwardly, “So… you guys know, huh?”

They must know, right? They must have seen me using magic, right? How am I supposed to explain this? Yuan Ye was internally panicking.

“Ah!” A-Yan was startled. What are the odds that Yuan Ye would overhear them?

Talking about his cross-dressing performance behind his back—Yuan Ye must be feeling mortified. A-Yan felt awkward but tried to play it cool. The more she emphasized it, the more uncomfortable Yuan Ye would feel.

“Yeah, we know. It was amazing,” she said.

It takes real courage to be yourself and not care about what others think of cross-dressing. That’s really admirable.

“Amazing…” Was she referring to him using magic in public? Yuan Ye couldn’t tell if this was a compliment or sarcasm.

He sat down silently beside them. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”

“It’s just… this kind of thing isn’t exactly normal,” Yuan Ye added.

Suddenly turning into a magical girl—anyone would find that weird, right?

“True,” A-Yan nodded. It does take a lot of courage for an ordinary guy to cross-dress.

“Can you keep this a secret for me?” Yuan Ye pleaded, looking at them earnestly.

“Of course,” A-Yan and Zhu Jue nodded. Cross-dressing is a personal matter, and they weren’t the type to gossip about it.

In fact, the other roommates probably noticed too, but everyone had silently agreed not to bring it up.

“I’ll keep your secret too,” Yuan Ye said, relieved.

A-Yan and Zhu Jue were both confused. Wait, us? Huh? What do we have to keep secret? Are you misunderstanding something?

***

Chapter 42

Ding Ling led the white-clothed female ghost, her movements natural and effortless. Combined with the faintly eerie aura she exuded, onlookers simply assumed she was with the ghost. Since she had already called for backup earlier, it didn’t take long for Ding Ling, with the help of the Special Case Team, to successfully take the ghost away. Indeed, because the team members who appeared at the comic convention were dressed in unique costumes, their departure didn’t raise suspicions but instead garnered admiration from the crowd. One person wore a Taoist robe, holding yellow talismans that were stuck to the ghost’s body. Another carried a long silver chain, with the words “Wuchang” printed on their white robe.

“LOL, the ghost got caught by Wuchang! Bro, you need a hood for that look. The soul-hooking chain is cool, but your outfit is too plain. Where are the tall hats of the Black and White Wuchang?”

“Why doesn’t the Taoist priest have a peachwood sword? Carrying a sword would really complete the vibe!”

“What kind of major crime did this ghost commit to escape from the underworld? The setup seems pretty epic, with both a Taoist priest and a ghost official coming to catch her. Why didn’t they act it out on the spot?”

Some onlookers even offered suggestions for their costumes. Ding Ling and the two Special Case Team members took the ghost into a modified van. The one dressed as “Wuchang” was Wu Ya, the living ghost official, while the other was Chang Qing, the current disciple of a certain single-lineage mystical school.

Ding Ling thought to herself that it was lucky A-Yan and Zhu Jue had left quickly. The two groups had just missed each other. Otherwise, while Wu Ya might not have known them, Chang Qing’s sect might have recognized A-Yan and Zhu Jue, potentially exposing their identities.

Inside the van, Chang Qing used a soul-stabilizing talisman to secure the original soul of the girl’s body, preventing the ghost from taking over. Ding Ling then yanked the possessing ghost out of the girl’s body. She frowned as she looked at the ghost she had just pulled out. It appeared to be a young girl, not yet an adult, possibly still in middle or high school.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch—” The ghost was making faces at Ding Ling.

“I was about to come out on my own, but you had to yank me out. That hurt!”

“Was it really necessary just because I made you chase me for a bit?”

The little ghost bared her teeth and argued vehemently. Ding Ling, not one to argue with children, confirmed from her words that the ghost had indeed been toying with her during the chase. Ding Ling felt a mix of exasperation and amusement.

What a mischievous kid! Was she this troublesome when she was first unearthed?

It wasn’t just “a bit” of chasing—they had run through most of the convention center. If Ding Ling had been a regular human, her legs would have been exhausted by now!

Meanwhile, Chang Qing was examining the girl who had been possessed by the little ghost and nodded at Ding Ling and Wu Ya.

“She’s fine. Although the yin energy seems strong, the ghost didn’t fully take over her body. It’s more like her body has adapted to the ghost’s presence due to prolonged exposure.”

As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the little ghost. Though restrained in her seat, the little ghost sat with her arms akimbo, swaying back and forth.

“Of course, I would never hurt Little Mei. We’ve known each other for a long time,” she said proudly.

“You’re friends?” Ding Ling asked.

“Of course! Little Mei was my best friend when I was alive,” the little ghost scoffed.

“Then why did you possess your best friend’s body? Didn’t you know it would harm her?” Ding Ling pressed.

The little ghost straightened up, trying to sound confident but with a hint of guilt. “We talked about it. Little Mei agreed. It was just for one day. I’ve always wanted to go to a comic convention, but I died before I could. Little Mei brought me here.”

Her words left Ding Ling, Wu Ya, and Chang Qing stunned.

Ding Ling sighed inwardly. “So, how long have you been with Little Mei?”

The little ghost tilted her head in thought. “How long? I’ve been with her since I died.”

She counted on her translucent fingers. “It’s been about three months.”

She rambled on, “Little Mei said people would think she was weird if she talked to herself, so we tried to figure out how to talk in her head like in those system novels. After a lot of trial and error, we succeeded. I could enter her body, and we could talk together.”

“But I knew it wasn’t good for her, so I didn’t possess her often,” the little ghost admitted, lowering her head guiltily.

She nervously picked at her fingers. “Um, I stayed in her body a bit longer this time. Before, I only possessed her temporarily to hide from people. Is Little Mei’s condition serious?”

Wu Ya spoke up, “You’ve been with Little Mei for three months, day and night. That’s enough time to cause slow but lasting harm to a normal person.”

The little ghost looked devastated. “Is Little Mei going to die? I’m already dead—she can’t die too!”

“Fortunately, Little Mei is young and has strong vitality. It’s not too severe, but she’ll need to spend a lot of time outdoors, exercise, and get plenty of sunlight to replenish her Yang energy and recover slowly,” Wu Ya explained.

“So, why have you been with Little Mei for the past three months?” Ding Ling asked.

According to the laws of the world, the living belong to the Yang realm, while the dead belong to the yin realm. After death, souls are supposed to be taken to the underworld by ghost officials, either to the jurisdiction of the City God or the Ten Kings of Hell. A child like this little ghost should have been taken away by ghost officials after death. If she died before adulthood, it might have been a trial for a celestial child, but the little ghost didn’t seem to fit that description.

The little ghost scratched her head. “I don’t know. When I became a ghost, I was still in the hospital. Later, I tried to go home but couldn’t get in. I had nowhere to go, so I went to school. The sun was too bright, so I hid under a tree, and Little Mei came to find me.”

“There was nowhere else to go, and there weren’t any ghost officials like in cartoons. Little Mei let me stay in her room,” the little ghost explained honestly.

During the ride from the convention center to the Special Case Team’s headquarters, Ding Ling and the others had gathered most of the information about the little ghost. After obtaining her and Little Mei’s real identities, they quickly began investigating.

When Little Mei woke up, without a chance to coordinate their stories, both she and the little ghost confessed everything to the police. The little ghost possessing her friend was named He Jiajia. She had been living with her parents, who worked in Bin City, and was in her second year of middle school. She had died from an allergic reaction to spoiled shrimp that her parents hadn’t taken seriously, leading to delayed medical intervention.

This trip to the comic convention was Little Mei’s way of fulfilling He Jiajia’s dream. He Jiajia had always wanted to see a comic convention and try cosplay, but her parents had forbidden it, saying it wasn’t something good kids did.

After becoming a ghost, He Jiajia finally got to roam the convention freely, with Little Mei’s consent to possess her body.

At the Special Case Team’s headquarters, Wu Ya went to investigate He Jiajia’s parents, while Chang Qing and a female doctor conducted a thorough physical examination of Little Mei.

Ding Ling, meanwhile, spoke privately with He Jiajia.

“During the convention, why did you stop running and turn back after leading me on such a chase?”

He Jiajia thought for a moment. “Because I heard it was almost closing time. Little Mei and I agreed to end the possession before the event ended. I didn’t want to delay her from going home.”

Ding Ling: Huh?

She hadn’t expected that answer. Wait, was she overthinking it? No, that couldn’t be!

So, when A-Yan had said that earlier, did she know about He Jiajia and Little Mei’s agreement about “closing time”?

That’s why she had said it so casually, and the little ghost had stopped immediately!

“Where did you and Little Mei make that agreement?” Ding Ling continued.

The little ghost found the question odd. “We discussed it near the stage area. There was a changing room there, and we agreed to leave before everyone else did. We even changed clothes there.”

The performance area—wasn’t that where A-Yan and Zhu Jue had been sitting in the corner?

That’s why A-Yan said, “The convention is almost over.”

In reality, the previous sentence was meant for the little ghost girl, reminding her that it was time! So, A-Yan had already noticed the little ghost girl’s presence by then, but it seemed she had assessed that the girl wasn’t much of a threat and let her be, remaining calm and composed. Then, just before leaving, A-Yan stopped the little ghost girl in her tracks, using a single sentence to remind her that it was time to go!

“The convention is almost over. Are you coming with us?” This sentence carried a hidden meaning.

If He Jiajia could take the hint from the word “over,” she would leave on her own. But if she wasn’t ready to “call it a day,” A-Yan might have to step in and make sure the little ghost girl followed them.

Yes, that must have been the case! However, the little ghost girl in front of them was still a newbie in the ghost world, and He Jiajia had no idea about A-Yan and Zhu Jue’s special identities. Thinking back to the last time when the red-dressed vengeful ghost disappeared, and how A-Yan had dealt with it, Ding Ling looked at He Jiajia with pity. Let’s hope this child never finds out what she almost went through.

A-Yan handed her over to Ding Ling, showing mercy. But even if He Jiajia had fallen into A-Yan’s hands, Ding Ling believed that A-Yan would have handled it properly, unlike some extreme practitioners of the mystical arts who would resort to life-or-death measures.

While Ding Ling was still dealing with the case of He Jiajia possessing Little Mei and appearing at the convention, the others from the boys’ and girls’ dorms had already boarded the subway back to school.

At four o’clock, the subway was already getting crowded. Chu Bingbing’s suitcase, filled with freebies, was placed in front of her, and she held onto the handle with both hands while Gu Jiasui helped her carry a small bag. Despite all the stuff, she didn’t attract much attention. Instead, it was Yi Zhi beside her who stood out, holding a wooden box containing the chrysanthemums she had just bought, which looked a bit wilted.

“Yi Zhi, you bought… chrysanthemums?” Ye Ping’an asked with a strange expression.

He thought to himself that this “big sister” had quite unique tastes, similar to Xiao Qingnang. She came to a convention but ended up visiting the flower market next door and bought chrysanthemums to take back. It wasn’t that chrysanthemums were bad, but they had become more associated with funerals and mourning in recent times. Usually, when people keep plants in their dorms, they go for something simple, easy to care for, and hard to kill, like cacti or succulents, right?

“They’re chrysanthemums,” Yi Zhi replied, glancing down at the flowers in the box.

“They didn’t look great, so they were the leftovers that the shopkeeper was about to throw away. I felt bad for them, so I decided to take them back and try to grow them,” Yi Zhi explained.

For her, no plant would die. She had seen so many vibrant and non-threatening flowers at the market and hadn’t planned to buy anything, but when she saw these chrysanthemums, she felt a pang of sympathy.

Yi Zhi thought that since there was enough space in her dorm’s balcony, she might as well take them back as decoration. It was autumn, and the Double Ninth Festival was approaching, a traditional time for appreciating chrysanthemums.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Ye Ping’an said.

Chu Shen didn’t join the group and went straight home, while Chu Bingbing decided not to return to Lakeside Paradise.

“Chu Shen really made a name for himself today,” Yi Zhi remarked.

She hadn’t expected that during the short time they were away, Chu Shen would get picked to go on stage and cook fried rice. His luck was truly something else.

The girls sat in a row, while the boys stood nearby, holding onto the subway handles.

Xiao Qingnang frowned slightly. “He should have gone back to school today.”

After hearing the others mention it, the old-fashioned Xiao Qingnang slowly went online to search and found that people had already located Chu Shen’s family restaurant.

And they hadn’t even been there yet! Given how quickly something could go viral online these days, especially when it was trending, Chu Shen better not get cornered by fans.

“Chu Shen said he had something to do at home,” Zhu Jue said.

A-Yan tilted her head, thinking that if Chu Shen was trying to lay low, he should have stayed on campus for the next two weeks. But he still went home. Could it be a requirement from his “Chef God System”?

Listening to the conversation among his roommates, Yuan Ye didn’t dare to speak up. He had also been involved in some incidents, but apart from A-Yan and Zhu Jue, the others didn’t seem to know. They didn’t ask him what he had been up to all day, which made Yuan Ye breathe a sigh of relief.

Chu Bingbing, in her ostrich-like manner, was looking at her phone. She noticed that under the automatic comments left after her donations on the Little Green Site, many threads had already been built. Some authors came to express their gratitude, others came to gawk at the “rich lady,” and some even recommended books. Under the works where creators had updated extra chapters to show their thanks, there were countless comments like “Thank you, rich mommy,” “Thanks to the rich sister for feeding us so much,” and “Thank you, rich lady, for bringing this abandoned story back to life. May you grow even wealthier!”

This felt different from the “retweet and win” events she had done on Weibo. It was hard to describe, but seeing these excited and genuinely thankful comments was heartwarming. Not that the retweets for giveaways weren’t sincere, but they were clearly motivated by the prizes.

Unlike on Weibo, where retweets often came with snarky comments or even private messages cursing her out, which Chu Bingbing found amusing.

Her Little Green Site app now showed 99+ notifications. As she scrolled through them, the flood of gratitude and well-wishes made her feel that her money had been well spent, giving her a rich emotional return. While walking around the convention, she hadn’t felt tired, but after getting off the subway, the group suddenly found themselves struggling.

“When is Ding Ling coming back? Otherwise, we should just order takeout for dinner,” Chu Bingbing said with a pained expression.

Originally, A-Yan and the others had planned to eat out for dinner, but Ding Ling had to deal with an unexpected situation, and not all the girls had returned to the dorm. They decided to wait until later to go out.

“I’ll ask,” A-Yan said, sending a message to Ding Ling.

[A-Yan]: Are you done there? When will you be back? If it’s late, we’ll just order takeout in the dorm.

[Ding Ling]: On my way. Do you want me to bring anything back?

Seeing Ding Ling’s reply, A-Yan raised an eyebrow. That was fast. She and Zhu Jue had walked out, waited for everyone to regroup, and taken the subway. Now they were already on campus, and it was only 5:30 PM. They had only been apart for an hour and a half. It seemed this ghost was just a small fry. Since Zhu Jue was going to walk A-Yan back to the dorm, the boys decided to tag along, saying they wanted to check out the south campus. Chu Bingbing’s suitcase and the bag of books were passed around among them. If there were willing helpers, why not make use of them?

“By the way, I have a package to pick up. Let’s grab it before heading back,” A-Yan said, looking at the package notification on her phone.

“It’s from Ka Ka. The photos were developed so quickly? I wonder what she sent,” A-Yan said, surprised.

It had only been a week since they parted ways with Ka Ka, the “Traveling Little Person” aura-bearer they met during their journey, but it felt like much longer. A-Yan had seen the notification about the package being collected but hadn’t paid much attention, as she often ordered small things online and would just glance at the alerts.

But today, Ka Ka had sent her a message, reminding her to check the package and specifically telling her not to pick it up alone—it might be heavy, so she should bring Zhu Jue along. A-Yan and Zhu Jue went to the campus delivery point to pick up the package. It was indeed a large box, so they borrowed a box cutter to open it on the spot. Inside were local snacks: beef jerky, beef cubes, and various flavored cheese blocks…

These snacks looked like they were from a Mongolian region. Had Ka Ka gone to the grasslands again? A-Yan went to the supermarket to buy two large bags to divide the snacks, then she and Zhu Jue carried them back.

“Ka Ka sent way too much. Just for the two of us, she sent this much. I hope she didn’t mix up the quantities with what she sent to the team,” A-Yan said, a bit worried.

Before A-Yan could message the team leaders, Mr. Li and Mr. Qin, to ask, she received a photo from the logistics team. The photo showed a small conference table covered with the same local snacks A-Yan had received, but in even larger quantities.

“Ka Ka is too generous. How much did she spend on all this food?”

“Beef jerky isn’t cheap, but we all tried it, and it’s definitely the real deal. There are also snacks like beef tendons and more.”

The logistics lady’s tone was full of excitement. A-Yan and Zhu Jue looked at the photos. “Confirmed, Ka Ka didn’t send the wrong package.”

A-Yan sent a message thanking Ka Ka, and immediately, Ka Ka replied with a link to her homepage on a video-sharing platform.

[Ka Ka]: “I just finished editing the videos from my recent trip. I’ve uploaded the first one. Let me know what you think when you have time.”

So fast! Ka Ka’s efficiency was unmatched. She was probably out on the grasslands now, yet she’d already managed to edit and upload the video. Could her [Travel Companion] be helping her? A-Yan carried a bag full of assorted local specialties back to the dorm. She tossed the snacks onto the shared table and opened her laptop to search for Ka Ka’s personal account.

[Travel Ka Ka]—Personal Homepage. Ka Ka’s profile picture was the adorable little character that A-Yan had once seen hovering above her head. By now, Ka Ka had already uploaded her first video, documenting her trip to Longjiang Forest Farm. A-Yan clicked on the video. The opening sequence featured the cute little character version of Ka Ka, carrying a backpack.

The tiny Ka Ka, with a huge hiking bag, first took a train, then a bus, followed by a car, and finally a tractor, eventually arriving at her destination marked by a flag. The sequence showed the changing modes of transportation, along with detailed scenery and passersby. Each time the mode of transport changed, a “Coins ±” indicator appeared, and when she encountered people, a “Favorability ±” indicator popped up, just like in a game!

A-Yan’s eyes sparkled as she watched. Ka Ka had really pulled it off—she truly was an animator! The opening sequence wasn’t long, and soon the main content began. Ka Ka didn’t show her face, but in the top left corner of the screen, a box appeared: [Travel Mission: Blind Box Trip]. In the bottom left corner, there were indicators for the player’s satiety, stamina, and money.

In the bottom right corner, there was also a mini-map. The entire video was shot in first-person perspective, making it feel exactly like a first-person travel game! As the video progressed, A-Yan noticed that Ka Ka had labeled the professions of people like “ticket sellers” and “drivers” above their heads. Though they weren’t named, it gave off strong NPC vibes.

The faces of the many passersby in the video were slightly blurred or pixelated, but those who interacted with Ka Ka displayed a [Favorability] indicator. After deeper interactions, names like [Auntie Li] would even appear.

When Ka Ka ate or drank, a message would pop up in the middle of the screen: [Satiety +xxx, Your stomach feels much fuller.]

When Ka Ka announced she was going to sleep, the video would instantly jump to the next morning, accompanied by the message: [Stamina +80, A good night’s sleep has fully restored your energy.]

The video Ka Ka uploaded was over forty minutes long. On the surface, it seemed like a mundane travelogue—riding vehicles, asking for directions, eating, and sleeping—but the unique touches made it incredibly engaging.

Watching Ka Ka eat made A-Yan feel hungry too. She reached into the bag, opened some dried beef jerky and cheese slices, and placed them on the table. As she did, she noticed there were instant photos mixed in with the snacks. One of the photos showed Ka Ka riding a horse. On the back of the photo, Ka Ka had handwritten a note:

“Dear friends, it’s been a week since we last met, and I’ve now arrived at the grasslands. The wind blows low over the grass, revealing herds of cattle and sheep. The sky is vast, and the stars fill the night.”

“The scenery is breathtaking. I hope you can see it too.”

“Sincerely, Travel Ka Ka.”

A-Yan couldn’t help but smile, her eyes curving into crescents. Looking at the instant photo of Ka Ka and the local specialties, it felt like receiving a care package from a real-life travel companion. Now, she had truly gotten her hands on a real “Travel Companion”!

***

Chapter 43

A-Yan finished watching the over forty-minute-long video without even realizing how much time had passed. She glanced at the view count of Ka Ka’s video. Perhaps due to the traffic boost for new accounts, Ka Ka’s video had already garnered five hundred thousand views in less than three hours, with plenty of likes, coins, and comments.

“Wow! The uploader is like the protagonist of a travel game!” “I love this style, so creative! The opening, transitions, and ending CG are all amazing!” “Traveling Ka Ka, followed and triple-supported! Hope the future videos maintain this quality.” “The uploader doesn’t talk much, which makes it more immersive. Even though I don’t know what they look like, I already feel like I know them. More, please! Hurry up with the next video!” “Little Ka Ka is so adorable, I can already imagine the real person!” “Definitely a candidate for this year’s Top 100! I’m following now.”

Though there were some comments like, “Is this made by a studio?” or “Big production, next step is selling products,” the majority were filled with curiosity and admiration.

A-Yan felt quite pleased. Most people had good taste and an eye for quality. Ka Ka had just graduated this year, and A-Yan wondered if her “Traveling Little Person” project would provide her with travel funds. If Ka Ka’s fanbase grew and she became popular, it would be a great way to support herself financially.

A-Yan clicked into Ka Ka’s profile and saw that her follower count had already risen to seventy thousand. With a roughly seven-to-one ratio, A-Yan wasn’t well-versed in such metrics, but it was clearly a fantastic start. While watching the video, A-Yan had already forwarded the link to Zhu Jue and asked him to check if there were any photos in the bag of snacks he had brought back.

[Zhu Jue]: I don’t have any here, probably just one.

A-Yan figured as much. Since they were sharing a set, she rummaged through her desk drawer and found a single-layer card holder to store the Polaroid Ka Ka had sent. If Ka Ka kept sending more, she’d need to prepare a Polaroid album. After some thought, A-Yan sent Ka Ka two messages.

[A-Yan]: Ka Ka, I finished watching your video—it was amazing! From a viewer’s perspective, it felt so fun, like watching a gaming livestream. It’s not something to watch while eating, but perfect for a leisurely evening. Make sure to post it on other platforms too.

The video’s ending featured a special animated CG, showing the people Ka Ka had met, the food she had eaten, and concluding with a backpack-wearing Ka Ka setting off again, tying everything together beautifully. The quality was top-notch!

[A-Yan]: [photo.jpg] The beef jerky and yogurt bites were delicious! Thank you, Ka Ka.

Ka Ka hadn’t replied yet when A-Yan saw Ding Ling returning with a bunch of food.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” Ding Ling said as she hurriedly placed the food on the table.

There was a popular roasted goose leg place outside the school, known as “Auntie Goose Leg,” which always had long lines during mealtimes. Nearby was a stall selling freshly made pan-fried dumplings. Ding Ling had also bought stuffed mushrooms with shrimp, grilled skewers, and chilled drinks—basically a feast of unhealthy delights.

“Goose legs! I haven’t had these in two weeks,” Chu Bingbing exclaimed, looking up from her suitcase with starry eyes.

“Thanks, Little Ding Ling,” A-Yan said as she wiped the tops of the canned drinks with alcohol wipes and grabbed some straws, ready to dig in.

Yi Zhi grabbed a handful of disposable chopsticks from her spot by bed six, while Gu Jiasui prepared bowls and plates. Ding Ling began unwrapping the food, and the five of them gathered around the table. Having already snacked on two pieces of beef jerky, A-Yan’s jaw and teeth were a bit tired, so she wasn’t very hungry. She sipped her soda through a straw and slowly nibbled on the goose leg.

So delicious! A-Yan glanced at the new merchandise-filled suitcase next to Chu Bingbing’s spot. It was a mess, with freebies piled up like a small mountain. Under Chu Bingbing’s desk were already an LV suitcase, a Rimowa suitcase, and a large plastic rolling case. This new 22-inch one made her already cramped space even more crowded.

“Bingbing, are you keeping all these freebies in the dorm? There’s almost no space left,” A-Yan remarked.

Their wardrobes weren’t very big either. Chu Bingbing had already taken over the wardrobe of an unused bed, and A-Yan barely had enough room for her own clothes, which were rolled up to save space. Thankfully, it was just summer and autumn attire. If winter clothes were sent over, there’d be no way to fit everything.

“Ah, I’ll move them back to my place tomorrow,” Chu Bingbing said with a pained expression as she munched on the goose leg.

She had been thrilled when she received these cute freebies, but now she was suffering while organizing them. These adorable little things took up so much space. Luckily, her place at Lakeside Paradise was spacious, with plenty of storage. She could just put these in the study room.

“Does anyone want to hang out tomorrow?” Chu Bingbing asked.

“We could check out that fried rice place. I’ve never been, and I’m not sure if it’ll be open.”

“A-Yan, it’s close to the fried rice place, right?” Chu Bingbing looked at A-Yan.

A-Yan nodded. “It’s about a ten-minute walk from your neighborhood.”

Hearing this, Chu Bingbing rested her chin on her hand. “It’s inconvenient before graduation, but once we’re done, I can go downstairs for fried rice every day.”

Yi Zhi chuckled at this. “By the time we graduate, who knows if Chu Shen will still be running his shop?”

A top graduate from Bin University, would he really continue as a small restaurant owner? The food industry was exhausting, and it couldn’t compare to the ease of working in a lab.

“Zhu Jue and I don’t have anything planned tomorrow,” A-Yan said.

“I can’t,” Ding Ling shook her head. She needed to keep an eye on Little Mei and He Jiajia’s situation.

“Me neither,” Gu Jiasui said softly. She had to return to the old family estate this week to confirm something with her grandfather regarding Professor Su Jing.

“I can, but I probably won’t join you all. We can meet at Chu Shen’s place,” Yi Zhi said after some thought.

She had discussed ingredients with Chu Shen earlier and planned to send some over tomorrow. Using the excuse of an early air shipment seemed reasonable, and she could bring back some fruit for her roommates too. The group chatted about today’s comic convention while finishing their meal. A-Yan and Gu Jiasui didn’t eat much, with Gu Jiasui only taking small bites of the goose leg and skewers, along with a couple of dumplings and stuffed mushrooms. The rest was devoured by Yi Zhi.

After dinner, A-Yan noticed Ding Ling taking the initiative to clean up and inviting her to help take out the trash. A-Yan figured Ding Ling must have something to discuss, as she usually wouldn’t ask for help with such a simple task. She didn’t refuse and followed Ding Ling out of the dorm with a trash bag. Besides the bathroom inside the dorm, there were shared facilities at both ends of the hallway, including a water room for hot water, washing, toilets, and a communal washing machine. After tossing the trash into the bin, the two stood by the window in the empty water room, speaking softly.

“What’s up?” A-Yan got straight to the point.

Ding Ling blinked. “Nothing much, just wanted to update you on the little ghost girl situation.”

Ding Ling quickly explained the story of Little Mei and He Jiajia, which sounded like a heartwarming tale from a paranormal radio show. A-Yan was stunned. Why was Ding Ling telling her this?

“You guys can handle this, right?” A-Yan ventured cautiously.

“Right, I just wanted your opinion,” Ding Ling said earnestly, her clear eyes filled with trust.

She believed that if there was any hidden scheme, A-Yan would surely notice. My opinion? I don’t have one! A-Yan thought silently. She was afraid of exposing her complete lack of knowledge on the matter.

“I don’t have any thoughts. You’ll handle it well,” A-Yan replied calmly.

Ding Ling was momentarily taken aback but quickly understood. She had been too focused on seeking A-Yan’s input but forgot that A-Yan’s current focus in her practice was different. A-Yan hadn’t intervened in this matter, avoiding both cause and effect. Once A-Yan expressed her own opinions or suggestions, it was inevitable that she would become involved in the matter. For someone of her status, staying detached from everything was the best course of action.

“I understand,” Ding Ling nodded firmly.

The two returned to the dormitory, and everyone took turns washing up. While A-Yan washed away the fatigue of the day, Ka Ka, far away on the grasslands of Inner Mongolia, lay on the grass gazing at the stars. Ka Ka appeared to be stargazing, but in reality, she was staring at the screen of her [Travel Companion] app.

“Congratulations, player! You have unlocked the [Distant Traveler] achievement. Keep up the good work! Would you like to equip the achievement badge?”

Another achievement unlocked. Ka Ka looked at the interface: “Distant Traveler.” Did this achievement trigger because the local specialties she sent to the team had arrived? Or was it because of the video she uploaded?

She quickly opened the detailed information for the [Distant Traveler] achievement.

[Achievement: Distant Traveler Lv. 1]

[Traveling over mountains and rivers, trekking through foreign lands, crossing grasslands, forests, deserts, and mountains… You share stories and experiences from your journey, becoming a distant traveler in the eyes of others. Decades later, people will still fondly recall the traveler who once passed through their land.]

[Equip Effect: Travel Reputation +5]

Travel Reputation? Ka Ka scratched her head. Did this mean she would be recognized during her travels? But she hadn’t shown her face in her videos.

“System, what does Travel Reputation do?”

If it meant being easily recognized, Ka Ka definitely wouldn’t equip this achievement.

“The effect of Travel Reputation depends on the player. The higher the reputation, the longer the stories you leave behind in a place may endure. Additionally, if you encounter difficulties, there’s a higher chance of receiving help from locals.”

Ka Ka plucked a blade of grass and brushed it against her nose. “So, for example, if I visited Big Brother Da Da’s home, this story might be passed down to his children or even grandchildren?”

“Yes,” the system replied.

“And if I go to an unfamiliar place without any information, someone at the village committee or town might help me. Can this be used in sync with [Unexpected Encounters]?”

“Yes.”

Ka Ka understood now. For distant travelers, the vast majority of people in her country were incredibly warm and welcoming. So, if she equipped both [Unexpected Encounters] and [Distant Traveler], her future travels might involve fewer problems and more helpful people.

“But what does Level 1 mean? Can I upgrade this? Is it based on my online reputation?”

“Please explore this on your own,” the system replied, offering no further explanation.

Fine, if the system wouldn’t say, Ka Ka figured it must be related to the popularity of her videos. She pulled out her phone and noticed several messages—from the team, A-Yan, and even some missed calls from locals she had sent specialties to!

After replying to the messages and calls, Ka Ka checked her newly registered account’s homepage. Her phone nearly froze from the sheer number of notifications!

There were so many messages, but Ka Ka didn’t plan to read them all. She just glanced at her follower count: 122,000. It had grown so quickly, and her video views had already surpassed 800,000. It seemed the “reputation” was indeed tied to her online presence, something Ka Ka had never experienced before.

Thinking of this, Ka Ka silently thanked A-Yan, the friend she had only known for a week. If it weren’t for A-Yan’s suggestions, she might still be hesitating. Moreover, it was A-Yan’s clever ideas that turned her travels into a gamified experience, making it so captivating. She wondered where the next “blind box” destination would take her and where she’d send A-Yan specialties from. Although she could just buy them online and have them delivered, Ka Ka felt that personally selecting and packing the items on-site made all the difference.

Sunday. After much thought, A-Yan decided to accompany Chu Bingbing to pack up some belongings and move them to her new place. Last time, it was a coincidence that she ran into Zhu Jue. This time, Chu Bingbing had specifically invited her. As a single woman, it wasn’t appropriate to ask her boyfriend to help, so she sent Zhu Jue ahead to reserve a seat at Chu Shen’s small restaurant to avoid the lunch rush.

This plan was perfect! Dragging a suitcase, even on a Sunday, Chu Bingbing hesitated for a moment before decisively choosing a luxury car with a female driver. It’s easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go back. She didn’t want to lug her suitcase onto the subway. In the car, Chu Bingbing messaged her property manager, asking if they had a professional organizer on staff. If so, it would save her a lot of trouble. Soon, she received a reply from the manager and let out a triumphant “yeah” from the backseat.

And so—When they arrived, Chu Bingbing’s suitcase was taken by the property manager who came to greet them. The professional organizer and housekeeping team followed them upstairs. After assessing what needed to be packed and Chu Bingbing’s requirements, they quickly made a list.

Meanwhile, A-Yan, who had grabbed two bottles of water from the car, found herself with nothing to do. She sat on the sofa, idly scrolling through her phone, then moved to the balcony to lounge on a recliner and daydream. A-Yan had thought she would be helping Chu Bingbing pack, but it turned out that professionals handled everything, and there was no need for supervision.

“A-Yan, what do you think it means if someone suddenly spends a lot of money, like hundreds of millions, on something they don’t need?”

Chu Bingbing’s sudden question caught A-Yan off guard. A-Yan blinked. Was Bingbing talking about herself? Why was she asking this?

“I’m not talking about myself, it’s someone else,” Chu Bingbing clarified, realizing her words might have been misleading.

This “someone else” was actually her Billionaire System. Last month, the system had suddenly issued a special limited-time task. Chu Bingbing had pondered it for a long time, but even after donating the “Zhou Dynasty Emperor’s Scroll,” she still hadn’t figured it out.

Normally, the tasks involved small sums like 100,000, 500,000, or a million. But this time, she was asked to bid on an auction item without any restrictions on donating it afterward. Chu Bingbing felt there was a deeper meaning behind it. So, she wanted to hear A-Yan’s opinion.

Given A-Yan’s background and perspective, she might offer insights that Chu Bingbing hadn’t considered—something on a completely different level. A-Yan hummed thoughtfully. She glanced back to make sure the organizers were still working in the study and not in the living room. After taking a sip of water, she said, “Generally, we call that money laundering.”

“Buying and selling antiques, artworks, jewelry, especially overseas, is often a way to transfer assets abroad.”

“After all, the value of these things can be subjective. Bidding far above the starting price or setting a record can be justified as the bidder’s personal preference, all within the rules and perfectly reasonable.”

Money laundering? Chu Bingbing was momentarily stunned. Surely her system wasn’t involved in money laundering, right?

But deep down, she had another lingering question. There’s a saying: “Every gift from fate comes with a price.” Where exactly did the money from her Billionaire System come from?

“I see,” Chu Bingbing said, feeling like she had gained a bit more insight.

A-Yan swayed gently in the recliner, and the two didn’t continue the topic. Then, A-Yan suddenly exclaimed, “Huh?”

“Zhu Jue says Yi Zhi has arrived. She brought ingredients from her family’s farm and went straight to Chu Shen’s restaurant.”

“That was fast. No wonder Yi Zhi didn’t come with us. She should’ve just ridden with us,” Chu Bingbing remarked.

Once the organizers finished their work, Chu Bingbing paid them, and the two headed downstairs.

Chu Bingbing was excited. “I can’t wait to see what this egg-fried rice restaurant is really like.”

A-Yan had already warned her that it was just an ordinary little eatery, but that didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. After all, it had been a week since she last had their egg-fried rice. They arrived at Chu Shen’s restaurant just before 11 a.m. In fact, the place wasn’t even open yet—it didn’t start serving until 11:30 and closed at 1:30 p.m. On weekends, it only operated for two hours.

However—by this time, there were already quite a few people sitting on small stools, lining up in front of the Chu family’s small restaurant. They seemed very familiar with each other, forming a neat line, chatting away. Some even brought their own sun umbrellas and hats.

Chu Bingbing was stunned by the sight. “Is the fried rice really this popular?”

At this moment, A-Yan was walking unsteadily. How were the two of them supposed to sneak in under everyone’s watchful eyes?

The feeling of being stared at while trying to use the “backdoor” wasn’t great either. A-Yan sent a message to Zhu Jue, and the restaurant’s door opened. In a flash, A-Yan and Chu Bingbing slipped inside. Chu Shen calmly looked at the customers who were about to rebel, already poised to rush in.

“It’s not mealtime yet. These are friends who came to help.”

He closed the door again, looking at today’s unexpected guests: two troublemakers, one big sister, and a friend of the troublemakers.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some fried rice now?” Chu Shen asked.

Chu Bingbing awkwardly rubbed her hands. She had seen the line outside. “Are you all prepared? Do you need us to help with anything?”

“You can help taste-test some new dishes. If you’re not hungry, you can wait, or have a little something first. We’ll eat together after I finish work,” Chu Shen said, looking at her.

“The ingredients from Yi Zhi’s family farm have arrived. I need to try them out today.”

Chu Shen hadn’t expected Yi Zhi to act so quickly. He had only mentioned it yesterday, and today the ingredients were already here. He had to return to school tomorrow, so some of the ingredients needed to be used as soon as possible. After getting the recipe for potato stew last night, he had practiced it all night in the culinary realm.

“New dishes?” A-Yan’s eyes lit up.

Not fried rice? Although the fried rice was delicious, it was finally time for something different.

“Yes, but I’m still experimenting. It’s not ready for the menu yet. Everyone can try it and give me some feedback,” Chu Shen explained gently.

When dealing with troublemakers, service had to be impeccable. He hoped the new dish would boost his favorability! Please, he hadn’t even gotten a chance to experience the culinary river yet!

“I’m not in a hurry. Where’s Yi Zhi?” A-Yan looked around. Zhu Jue was in the dining area, but Yi Zhi was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m here,” Yi Zhi came out from the kitchen, holding a peeler.

“I had nothing to do, so I started peeling some potatoes.”

In fact, she could have used a bit of spiritual energy to peel the potatoes instantly, but such a small task wasn’t worth wasting energy on. These potatoes had been carefully selected by her, scrubbed clean of dirt with a brush. Even roasted on their own, they were delicious. She could hardly imagine how they would taste after Chu Shen worked his magic.

A-Yan and Chu Bingbing felt too awkward to just freeload, so they decided to help out. A-Yan wiped down the wooden tables and chairs three times for disinfection, while Chu Bingbing mopped the floor three times. The tap water was too cold, so Zhu Jue washed the large amount of fruit Yi Zhi had brought, then portioned them into small plates while wearing gloves. Portioning the fruit was Chu Shen’s idea. Since it came from Yi Zhi’s family farm, and he had already tasted it—its quality was exceptional—he knew his customers would love it.

“Remember that restaurant we went to last time? They served high-end seasonal fruit. I saw online that a lot of people were asking about their supplier,” Chu Shen said, wearing a mask. In the restaurant, dressed in his chef’s uniform, he looked every bit the professional.

“Yi Zhi, does your family farm have an online store or WeChat account? Send it to me later, and I’ll share it with the customers in their group.”

Half an hour flew by, and the Chu family’s small restaurant was officially open for business!

“It’s finally open! Boss Chu, I missed you so much! Why were you closed yesterday?” The first customer to enter loudly proclaimed their affection.

“Didn’t you know? Boss Chu was out frying rice yesterday.”

“What? Boss Chu has someone else? He’s raising a wild man outside?”

“Pfft! What do you mean, wild man? It’s not like Boss Chu did something wrong.”

“We regulars aren’t like those new wild outsiders,” one long-time customer said with obvious pride.

Chu Bingbing’s mouth twitched as she listened. Eating here even had a hierarchy? “They’re the regulars, the new ones are wild outsiders. What does that make us?”

“You’re one of us,” Chu Shen said, stopping himself from calling them troublemakers who made him get up early on a Monday to cook massive portions of fried rice.

As the first wave of customers settled in, A-Yan and the others quietly took on the role of servers. Each customer was served a small plate of fruit, containing a few strawberries and cherry tomatoes. The gesture left many customers in awe.

“Is this a new fruit platter? How much does it cost?”

“I remember that girl and her partner. Aren’t they Boss Chu’s friends? Are they helping out part-time?”

“No charge, it’s a tasting,” A-Yan explained.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m getting such a treat from Boss Chu. I have to try it!”

The restaurant didn’t provide forks, so the customers dug in with their hands.

“Wow, these strawberries! I don’t even know what to say. They taste just like the rich, flavorful ones I had as a kid. Sweet and tangy, absolutely amazing!”

“These cherry tomatoes are incredible too. They burst in your mouth, and the juiciness is just right!”

As the seated customers excitedly ate the fruit, A-Yan noticed a man holding a selfie stick, filming as he walked in with the line. He spoke in an animated tone:

“Folks, who can relate? Did you hear about the legendary golden fried rice at the Bin City CG Expo yesterday? Today, I’m taking you to the restaurant of the chef behind that golden fried rice. Let’s see if it’s really as magical as they say!”

“If I find anything wrong, I’ll definitely call out the food safety issues!”

A-Yan’s heart skipped a beat. Was this guy here to cause trouble?

***

Chapter 44

This was A-Yan’s first time witnessing “food authenticity checks” in real life.

Not just her, but the other diners in the shop were also drawn to the commotion at the entrance.

“Who’s that? A live streamer? If this gets popular, the queues are going to get even longer!”

“That guy seems a bit off, doesn’t he?”

The early arrivals, who were regulars, sat at a table for four, whispering among themselves.

“Could he be here to cause trouble?”

A-Yan overheard someone say this, and her body tensed up.

This kind of “food authenticity check” was different from the typical food vlogger visits. These streamers were known for nitpicking and finding faults. They might not have much knowledge, but they were skilled at stirring up drama and often had a loyal, mindless following.

And… A-Yan silently glanced toward the kitchen. Chu Shen was a celebrity in their world!

She had always thought that someone like Chu Shen, with his glamorous life, wouldn’t be caught up in such dramatic situations. But here it was, happening right in front of her! The live-streaming man seemed well-prepared, arriving early and securing the last available seat. He held up his equipment as he walked in.

“Alright, folks, we’re in! This place is pretty small, let me show you around,” he said, panning his phone around and waving at the diners inside.

“All the tables are for four, no single seats. Everyone’s sharing tables.”

The man pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and placed them on an empty seat. “Just marking my spot. Let’s see what’s inside.”

When his phone camera landed on the chalkboard menu on the wall, the streamer gasped. “Egg fried rice for 288 yuan? That’s daylight robbery!”

“Not even a side dish? Just plain water?”

His voice nearly cracked, and A-Yan frowned. It would be best if he left. If he stayed, there was bound to be trouble. The man seemed to want to rally the other diners to his side, but no one paid him any attention.

“I think 288 yuan for egg fried rice is actually too low. What do you think, Zhang?” said an old man fiddling with his prayer beads.

“Absolutely. With Chef Chu’s skills, if he were at a hotel, especially one specializing in modern Chinese fusion cuisine, this dish would easily go for 888 yuan,” added a middle-aged man with his own tea cup.

“Cherish the fact that we can enjoy a top-tier chef’s cooking for just 288 yuan,” chimed in an auntie at the table.

“Exactly! We could eat here forever for 288 yuan,” echoed another table.

The group’s praise left the streamer’s comments hanging in the air, and he looked somewhat embarrassed.

“Haha, well, if everyone’s so enthusiastic, I guess I’ll have to try this egg fried rice. Hope it’s not all hype,” the streamer said, awkwardly returning to his seat. He continued his live stream while scanning the QR code on the table to order.

“Let’s see, we’re in the app now. Chu’s Little Eatery. Oh, wow, there’s only one option: egg fried rice with plain water. No membership options either. Alright, I’ve placed my order.”

His order number was 24.

“Number 24. There are only six tables here. Am I the last one?”

He noticed a small plate of untouched fruit on the table. The other three people at his table had empty plates in front of them.

“Oh, they even serve fruit before the meal. At least I’m getting some value back for my 288 yuan,” the streamer said, grabbing the fruit without a second thought, completely ignoring the strangers at his table.

“The presentation isn’t bad. Let’s try it. No fork, but I guess this isn’t the kind of place where you’d use one,” he said, holding a strawberry and a cherry tomato up to the camera.

“Honestly, if they’re charging 288 yuan for egg fried rice, the owner must be raking it in. They could at least spruce up the place a bit.”

He started criticizing the decor. “No one even greets you when you sit down. Those two girls are just standing there, not doing anything. No one’s even offered me water. The service here is nonexistent.”

Shaking his head, he looked exasperated. “This is one of those places where the owner thinks they’re above the customers. It’s the customers who let them get away with it. Nowadays, every industry knows the customer is king.”

He then shouted, waving at A-Yan and Chu Bingbing, “Hey, waitress! Get me some water!”

The live chat exploded with agreement, siding with him.

[The waitress is pretty, but she’s not doing her job. I’d fire her on the spot.]

[If this were a cheap 20-yuan place, fine. But for a 300-yuan-per-head restaurant, this service and environment? They’ll go out of business soon!]

[Brother Xiong, teach them a lesson. Expose these shady businesses!]

The shop was a small two-story building. A-Yan and Chu Bingbing had been standing at the corner near the stairs, quietly observing and whispering to each other. The streamer’s shout startled them. Zhu Jue walked over with a water pitcher and a cup. The regulars at other tables either brought their own water or had already helped themselves to the plain water available. He poured water and left without a word, which immediately drew complaints from the streamer, known as Brother Xiong.

“Hey, what kind of attitude is that? Not even a word. If I hadn’t called out, no one would’ve brought me water.”

“There are no waiters here,” the young man sitting next to him couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Huh?” Brother Xiong was stunned.

If there were no waiters, his earlier complaints would fall flat.

“The owner is the only one running the place. He’s the chef too. Those people standing around are just customers,” the young man explained.

“Plain water is self-serve. It’s written on the wall. Didn’t you see it?” the girl across the table added.

Brother Xiong scratched his nose and glanced outside. The customers still waiting in line seemed to have heard the commotion and were peeking in.

“Uh, I didn’t notice. No harm done, right? How was I supposed to know they weren’t waiters? Everyone else is waiting outside,” he quickly defended himself, brushing off his earlier entitled behavior.

He grabbed a strawberry and popped it into his mouth, hoping to move past the awkward moment, but then froze. The live stream captured his expression, prompting a flurry of comments.

[What’s wrong, Brother Xiong? Is it that bad?]

[Is it disgusting or delicious?]

Brother Xiong was already frustrated with the place, but the strawberry was undeniably good. Even if he wanted to trash it, he couldn’t.

“It’s… actually pretty good,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, and picked up a cherry tomato.

“Tastes decent. At least I’m getting a few yuan’s worth back,” he said, forcing a smile. He noticed that several plates of egg fried rice had already been served, and the other diners were eagerly digging in.

He turned the camera toward them. Most were silently devouring their food, while those still waiting watched with longing eyes.

“Finally, I get to eat this! I’ve been craving it for six whole days.”

“Ugh, I dreamt about this egg fried rice last night. Woke up drooling all over my pillow.”

“I didn’t even dare eat breakfast this morning. Just had a few sips of water so I wouldn’t spoil my appetite for this.”

Some savored each bite as if it were their last, while others wolfed it down like there was no tomorrow.

“This can’t be real, right? It’s too over-the-top,” Brother Xiong said skeptically.

“If they hired actors, they went way too far with it.”

Chu Shen worked quickly, and soon all the diners inside had their food. Brother Xiong reluctantly got up to fetch his own plate. With all the seats filled and no new orders coming in, Chu Shen stopped cooking. At that moment, A-Yan, Chu Bingbing, Yi Zhi, and Zhu Jue gathered around him.

A-Yan whispered, “We found out who that guy is.”

Earlier, they had muted their phones and searched through a few video platforms, quickly locating the streamer. To their surprise, he was a blogger with millions of followers, going by the name “Justice Brother Xiong.” The moment they saw his profile, they were overwhelmed by how pretentious he seemed.

A-Yan and Chu Bingbing looked utterly speechless. “He specifically targets supermarkets, food stores, and small restaurants. He recently went viral with a video where he found a box of instant coffee powder on a supermarket shelf and pointed out that the ingredient list included silicon dioxide. He then searched online and found out that silicon dioxide is a construction material. He even went to a construction site to ask workers if sand could be eaten, and of course, they said no.”

“Then, in his video, he claimed that silicon dioxide is sand, and since sand can’t be eaten, the coffee powder must be inedible too. He called for a boycott of the coffee powder,” Chu Bingbing said, her lips twitching.

“Silicon dioxide in food is obviously a food-grade additive, but in his mouth, it became sand.”

“The most ridiculous part is that the people in the comments actually believed him,” A-Yan said helplessly.

“I looked into it, and this guy has been using this method to spread all sorts of rumors. He’s been threatening small brands and manufacturers, demanding money in exchange for not exposing them,” Chu Bingbing added.

Yi Zhi rubbed his hands together. “So, this guy is also coming to blackmail Chu Shen?”

“I saw that he went to a famous chain restaurant before, picking on every little thing and posting videos. In the end, the restaurant had to apologize,” A-Yan said.

“Mindless public opinion is his weapon. He points at someone, and the crowd follows. He probably saw the news about the 288-yuan fried rice and came to stir up some drama,” Zhu Jue chimed in.

Chu Shen’s eyebrows twitched slightly. He had already guessed that this trouble was caused by the fried rice incident at the convention. But with people like this, there’s no hiding from them.

“It’s fine, let’s see what he’s planning,” Chu Shen said calmly. When he first opened the shop, there were others who came to cause trouble.

He hadn’t experienced major storms, but these little squalls were unavoidable when running a business. Especially since he was a young adult, just turned 18, with no family to back him up. Naturally, he became an easy target for bullies looking to exploit and intimidate.

“He wouldn’t try to sneak flies or cockroaches into the fried rice, would he?” Chu Shen joked.

A-Yan thought seriously for a moment. “Probably not. That’s too low-level. The customers are all watching, and there’s even a live stream.”

Earlier, the blogger known as Brother Xiong had deliberately caused trouble—pouring water, calling for the waiter, complaining about the price. But the customers around him had already shut him down before the owner even had to step in. One customer even pointed out that the shop only had one person running the show—the owner who also doubled as the chef—effectively dismantling Brother Xiong’s complaints.

“With only one person doing everything, what are you even complaining about? The owner still has to cook the rice!”

Yi Zhi clenched her fists eagerly. “If he tries to blackmail us, would it count as self-defense if I beat him up?”

Everyone turned to look at her, and Chu Shen was instantly touched.

“Big sis, you’re too kind.”

“That probably wouldn’t fly. We’re living in a society ruled by law. It’s not that serious yet,” A-Yan said.

A-Yan rubbed his chin and quietly stood up to take a peek. Brother Xiong was holding a plate of fried rice, showing it off to his live stream audience.

“Alright, folks, after waiting for so long, I’ve finally got it. Let’s see if this fried rice is really as amazing as they say.”

“The plate is pretty ordinary, just the standard white plate you’d find in any small restaurant. The spoon too. For 288 yuan, you’d think they’d use fancier tableware, right?”

“It does smell a bit fragrant. The egg has turned the rice yellow. I’ve done this at home before, but it usually ends up with a bit of an eggy smell.”

“There’s no ham or shredded meat either. Look, just egg, white rice, and scallions. It’s literally just fried rice. I’m thinking, for 288 yuan, it should be gold-plated or something,” he rambled on without even taking a bite.

The young man sitting next to him suddenly looked up and snapped, “If you’re not going to eat it, can you stop talking?”

“If you don’t want it, someone else will gladly pay 288 yuan for it.”

“Don’t talk while eating. If you’re not eating, could you at least let others enjoy their meal in peace?”

After a long week of work, he had come here to treat himself, and now this idiot was ruining it with his live stream. The young man moved his chair closer to the wall, as if trying to put as much distance between himself and Brother Xiong as possible.

“This is my first time here. I’m just trying to share my experience with everyone,” Brother Xiong said, his face stiffening.

“288 yuan isn’t cheap. You regulars might not care, but don’t look down on us common folk,” he muttered.

“Whoa, hold on! Don’t drag the wealth gap into this. I’m a 996 office worker. I come here once a week for a decent meal. Is that too much to ask? I work until 3 a.m. every day, getting less than six hours of sleep. Can’t you just let me eat in peace? Show some compassion for us young people?” the young man fired back, pulling the 996 card.

Chu Bingbing, eavesdropping from the kitchen, chuckled softly. “Nice one, buddy!”

A-Yan silently gave a thumbs-up. You pull the wealth gap card, I pull the 996 card. This young man clearly knew how to play the game. Brother Xiong felt like he was having a bad day. He had ended up at a table full of young people, and none of them were in the mood to put up with his nonsense.

“Fine, fine, I’ll eat,” he said, finally picking up his spoon.

He scooped up a spoonful of fried rice, showed it off to the camera, and finally put it in his mouth. Then, Brother Xiong’s expression froze.

“What the…?” he blurted out involuntarily.

“This is fried rice?”

The comments in his live stream were going crazy, but Brother Xiong seemed completely oblivious. He kept shoveling spoonfuls of fried rice into his mouth, faster and faster, one after another. He was chewing and swallowing so quickly that he didn’t have time to speak. The table finally fell silent, with only the sound of eating filling the air. Some of the first batch of customers had already finished their meals, cleared their plates, and left to make room for the next group waiting outside. But Brother Xiong didn’t even notice the comings and goings around him. His entire focus was on the plate of fried rice in front of him. How could fried rice be this good?

Eat, eat, eat. His brain, hands, and stomach were all completely consumed by the act of eating. The large plate of fried rice was disappearing at an alarming rate, until only a small portion remained. Brother Xiong stared at the plate in confusion.

“What? It’s almost gone?”

“I feel like I didn’t even eat that much.”

Finally, he showed a bit of respect for the chef and waved toward the kitchen. “Another plate of fried rice, please.”

The young man next to him burst out laughing. “One serving per person. Finish up and leave.”

The young man hadn’t finished his meal yet. He was savoring every bite, and there was still half a plate of fried rice left, which made Brother Xiong’s eyes light up.

“What? Only one serving? That’s not enough for a grown man! This is ridiculous!”

“Hey, buddy, we’re both men here. I don’t mind sharing. How about you give me half of your rice, and I’ll pay you half the price?”

He stared hungrily at the young man’s plate, his eyes gleaming like a wolf spotting prey. The young man immediately raised his left arm to block him, turned his body to face the wall, and continued eating, making it clear with his body language that he wasn’t interested in sharing. The two girls sitting across from him also protectively covered their plates and started eating faster.

“Finish up and leave. Put your plate at the front. There are people waiting,” a departing customer said, glancing at him.

“But I’m not full yet,” Brother Xiong said, fidgeting like an ant on a hot pan. He scanned the QR code on the table to order more.

But the system displayed a message: “User has already ordered today. Order closed. No further orders allowed.”

Two words: ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!

“Is the owner not interested in making money?” Brother Xiong muttered in disbelief, his anxiety growing as he half-heartedly glanced at the live stream comments.

“Where is this place? You’re coming here? Oh, you won’t get a seat. The line outside is crazy long, and this place only opens for two hours,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. He looked around and, noticing a new customer coming in, quickly tried to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, can you order a plate of fried rice for me? I’ll pay you an extra 100 yuan as a service fee.”

The new customer, a trendy-looking young man, immediately bolted forward. “What kind of troublemaker is this?”

Brother Xiong was stunned. He was just trying to pay someone to order for him. How was that causing trouble?

“Scalpers who resell tickets at inflated prices will be blacklisted by our shop. Both the scalpers and those who buy from them will be permanently blacklisted,” the guy eating against the wall said quietly as he finished his meal, picked up his tray, and walked away.

“Huh?” The streamer, Xiong Ge, was left speechless. He had never seen anything so absurd!

Outside, some of the waiting customers had already gathered around Xiong Ge. “When are you planning to leave?” someone asked.

With people now standing beside him, watching him, and the other customers all voluntarily giving up their seats after finishing their meals, the chat in his livestream was also filled with comments saying he should leave and not prevent others from eating. Although there were some who supported him staying, Xiong Ge, for the sake of his image, reluctantly got up.

“Alright, I guess I have to leave after finishing. Gotta make room for others. I’ll go out and show everyone the queue situation so they can prepare,” he said, following the example of others by placing his fried rice and fruit plate on the counter before heading out with his phone to continue streaming the queue.

Seeing that the man had finally left without causing any more trouble after eating, A-Yan breathed a sigh of relief.

However, A-Yan noticed that Yi Zhi seemed somewhat disappointed, as if she had been gearing up for something.

“This doesn’t follow the script. Shouldn’t he have found something to complain about?”

Chu Bingbing chimed in, “Well, he did eat the fried rice.”

It was Chu Shen’s fried rice, after all. The guy had even tried to buy a spot to get another plate, so it was clear he wasn’t going to pick a fight.

From 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., the operating hours of Chu’s Little Eatery came to an end. The hungry group had snacked on some fried rice, but since Chu Shen mentioned testing a new dish, the five of them shared one plate of fried rice, not daring to eat too much.

After helping Chu Shen load the dishes into the dishwasher and cleaning up, Chu Bingbing sighed sincerely.

“Running a restaurant is really exhausting. Fried rice isn’t easy to make.”

Today, with the four of them helping out, the cleaning was taken care of, but usually, Chu Shen had to do everything himself—cooking, cleaning, prepping ingredients, and shopping. At the same age, being a restaurant owner was no easy feat.

On the kitchen stove, the beef that had been simmering on low heat for a long time was finally ready. At 2 p.m., after the five of them finished cleaning up, Chu Shen brought out his newly learned dish.

“New dish: braised beef and potatoes, and braised chicken and potatoes. I also made a fresh pot of rice. Do you want plain rice or fried rice with it?” he asked.

“Plain rice!” A-Yan raised her hand. Braised meat and potatoes were best paired with plain rice to bring out the flavors of the dish.

“We’ve already had fried rice. You’ve been busy all morning, plain rice is fine,” Chu Bingbing said.

After pushing two tables together and locking the front door, the five of them gathered around to eat.

“I don’t have many dishes to offer. I feel a bit embarrassed having you all come over and help out today,” Chu Shen said, looking at the table with only three dishes: braised beef and potatoes, braised chicken and potatoes, and a small side of pickled celery. It seemed a bit meager.

“This is great. We have cold dishes, hot dishes, and rice—two meat dishes and one vegetable. Isn’t this how we eat at home? If you think it’s too little, I can go wash some cucumbers,” Yi Zhi said.

The aroma, the setup, and the ingredients of this meal were something many people in a post-apocalyptic world could only dream of.

“Alright, let’s eat,” Chu Bingbing said impatiently.

“I’ll try the beef first,” A-Yan said.

The rice was served in a large plate, and Zhu Jue scooped a spoonful onto her plate.

The sauce of the braised beef and potatoes was a deep color, not a clear broth but slightly thickened. The potatoes had been stewed to the point of melting, and the dish looked incredibly fragrant, perfect for mixing with rice!

When Chu Shen had lifted the lid in the kitchen earlier, the aroma had nearly knocked everyone over!

It was unbelievably delicious!

The golden potatoes, cut into chunks, were so tender that they seemed to crumble at the touch of chopsticks. The beef, not too big or small, had some connective tissue and was stewed to perfection—soft and tender.

A-Yan instinctively swallowed her saliva. She scooped up a piece of beef with her spoon and put it in her mouth.

The moment the beef touched her tongue, it seemed to melt into strands with the slightest pressure. It wasn’t dry or tough, and there was no hint of gaminess—just a burst of rich, savory juices. It was delicious!

Eating beef like this, you didn’t even have to worry about it getting stuck in your teeth. It was tender but not mushy, and you could tell it was high-quality beef.

A-Yan closed her eyes as she savored the beef, then immediately scooped up a piece of potato.

The golden potato was equally soft. With just a gentle press of her teeth, the creamy, dense texture spread across her palate. The potato chunks, soaked in the meaty juices, carried both the rich aroma of the beef and the natural sweetness of the potato, making her want to keep eating bite after bite.

Especially the potato—it was so fragrant, even after absorbing the meat juices, it still retained its own distinct flavor.

Braised beef and potatoes was a dish almost every household made, so why did this taste so incredibly good?

The beef was delicious, the potatoes were delicious, and together they created a synergy that was greater than the sum of their parts!

A-Yan wasn’t usually a big fan of potatoes, but right now, she felt like she could eat an entire plate of them!

Wait, weren’t these ingredients brought by Yi Zhi?

The group barely spoke as they devoured the braised beef and potatoes, the braised chicken and potatoes, and the rice mixed with the savory sauces. A-Yan watched as Yi Zhi finished a plate in record time and immediately started on a second heaping plate.

This was the ultimate comfort food.

Just as the group was enthusiastically eating, the door suddenly started banging loudly.

Chu Shen went to open the door, and the five of them stared in confusion as a team of police officers appeared outside.

“Nobody move!”

“Put down your weapons! Hand over the goods!”

Chu Shen, still holding his chopsticks, silently raised his hands. “Excuse me, have I been reported again? You’re not from the local precinct, are you?”

The officer was momentarily taken aback by the question. “No, I’m not. Cut the nonsense. We received a report that you’re hiding drugs here.”

***

Chapter 45

The timeline rewinds to an hour earlier.

Brother Xiong, a live streamer, reluctantly walked out of Chu’s small restaurant, once again showing his viewers the long, persistent queue outside.

Despite the advice from experienced regulars ahead of him, “Don’t bother lining up anymore. They only open for two hours. We’ve already calculated our numbers. Even if you line up until 1:30, you won’t get to eat before they close!”

“No matter how many people line up, they won’t extend the hours. They only prepare a limited amount of ingredients each day.”

“I traveled during the National Day holiday, and they weren’t open yesterday. If I don’t get to eat today, it’ll be two weeks since I last had it. I can’t take it anymore—it’s driving me crazy. I’m craving it so badly!”

“Me too. I dream about it every day,” another person said, their expression almost intoxicated.

“Thankfully, I came early, Brother Xiong, or I really wouldn’t have gotten to eat,” Brother Xiong remarked, clicking his tongue in amazement.

“Brother Xiong, though he might not want to admit it, I think this fried rice is truly worth the price.”

As he spoke, he finally had a moment to glance at the live chat, and what he saw left him stunned.

[Brother Xiong, are you sure you’re not high? You sound normal, but the way you’re eating is completely different from usual!]

[I’m suspicious too. Did you get paid to promote this place? I’ve never seen you rave about a restaurant like this before.]

[If you’re doing an ad, just say so.]

[No, no, it can’t be an ad. I’ve been wanting to say this for a while—the people in that restaurant look like they’re high. I don’t believe any food could be that good!]

[There’s definitely something in that fried rice. Otherwise, why would it be so expensive and still attract so many people?]

Brother Xiong’s mouth hung open as these comments swirled in his mind.

Right, he’s eaten at plenty of high-end restaurants. What makes this little hole-in-the-wall so special?

The chef-owner is just a young guy. How could someone so young have such incredible cooking skills?

As he recalled his own state earlier, Brother Xiong began to tremble.

“Guys, Brother Xiong… Brother Xiong might have actually ingested something.”

He remembered the state of the people in the restaurant—they all seemed addicted, devouring their fried rice in silence, completely “high.”

Now, even the hand holding his selfie stick started to shake.

The chat exploded with comments.

[Brother Xiong is high! Damn, we should call the police!]

[Should we call the police? Will Brother Xiong get arrested?]

[Brother Xiong is shaking! Isn’t that what happens when people overdo it with ice?]

“Guys, calm down, calm down,” Brother Xiong said hurriedly, seeing that his viewers were about to dial 911.

“I’m shaking because you all scared me, but my mind is completely clear.”

A comment floated across the screen:

[People with mental illnesses always say they’re not mentally ill.]

“No, I…” Brother Xiong was at a loss for words.

He felt clear-headed, but his viewers clearly didn’t believe him. And deep down, Brother Xiong was starting to doubt himself too, wondering if he had indeed consumed something illegal.

If he didn’t report this himself, someone in the chat would probably call the police soon.

“I need to report this. Don’t worry, everyone. I’m local, so it’s easier for me.” Brother Xiong tried to calm his audience.

“Think about it. When I came here, you all saw the location. It’s in the heart of Bin City, right next to the riverfront apartments where the wealthy live.”

“I think some of the people eating here might actually be rich locals.”

“Logically, the police shouldn’t be unaware of this place. I’m not being conspiratorial, but I think it’s better to have police from another district come and investigate. What do you all think?”

Brother Xiong spoke in a tone that implied, “You know what I mean,” and the chat immediately agreed.

[Brother Xiong makes sense. Who knows if there’s some kind of cover-up?]

[Good idea. Brother Xiong, go turn yourself in at another district.]

[Don’t rush to call the police. We don’t want to tip them off.]

Seeing the comments urging him to “turn himself in,” Brother Xiong stayed silent. He hadn’t killed anyone! The idea of turning himself in made him nervous.

Under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands of viewers, even the usually stingy viewers started tipping him, urging him to take a taxi to the police station immediately.

After all this, the suspicion in the chat only grew heavier. With heavy steps, Brother Xiong had no choice but to head to the police station.

What if… he really tested positive? He might end up in rehab!

Brother Xiong had seen videos online before—anyone caught using drugs would be randomly checked by the police and taken for a urine test.

And once word got out, his reputation would be ruined forever! Even if it was accidental, people would look at him differently, whispering behind his back.

Brother Xiong comforted himself internally. His fans had seen that this was a mistake. There was a big difference between intentionally using drugs and accidentally ingesting something.

He could still redeem himself and come out of this as a hero!

Plus, going to the police station might actually boost his popularity!

At this point, there was no other way.

With a heavy heart, Brother Xiong, the righteous streamer, headed to the police station in the neighboring district, tears in his eyes as he bid farewell to his viewers. The chat was flooded with tips.

Brother Xiong, the righteous streamer, voluntarily went to the police station to report the incident, anxiously awaiting the drug test results. He was filled with hatred for the restaurant.

Once inside the station, he couldn’t continue streaming. His face was ashen. “My life is ruined because of one meal.”

After receiving Brother Xiong’s report and detailed description, the narcotics squad quickly mobilized.

And so—On this Sunday, A-Yan, Yi Zhi, Zhu Jue, and Chu Bingbing experienced an extremely unusual “first” in their lives.

They were drug-tested and urine-tested at the police station.

Even the large pots of beef stew with potatoes and chicken stew with potatoes from the restaurant were taken away for testing.

While undergoing the tests, the group couldn’t help but mourn their meal.

“I barely got to eat. I didn’t even finish one plate,” Chu Bingbing said, tears in her eyes.

“At least Yi Zhi finished a plate.”

“We’re upstanding members of society, and we got accused of using drugs!”

“I only had five pieces of beef, four pieces of potato, half a plate of rice, two pieces of chicken, and a bit of pickled celery,” A-Yan counted on her fingers.

She felt cheated!

No one ate as fast as Yi Zhi. Now that the two pots of stew had been sent for testing, there was nothing left to eat.

Tomorrow was Monday, and they’d have to wait until next weekend to eat again.

Five whole days. It was going to be unbearable.

A-Yan leaned on Zhu Jue as the group sighed one after another.

What a mess!

When Yi Zhi was taken into the police car, she had to suppress the urge to lash out.

“At least it’s just the four of us today,” Chu Bingbing said, trying to find some silver lining.

Today, not all of them had come, otherwise, a few more people would have ended up with a day trip to the police station.

The few of them had already developed a bond of shared hardships and camaraderie.

Only Chu Shen remained as calm as ever, his face carrying a trace of well-honed numbness.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Hearing his words, A-Yan and the others turned their heads to look at him. Chu Shen’s motion of raising his hand was so practiced,

“How many times have you been reported?”

“Is it just because your fried rice is a little too good? You’ve been reported again!”

A-Yan wasn’t sure if this counted as an unjust disaster, but in any case… it was a brand-new life experience.

A urine drug test takes two hours, but the five of them weren’t detained. Instead, they sat in a row under the watchful eyes of the police officers, waiting for the results.

Two hours later, everyone’s results came back negative—no traces of drugs were found.

The police officer who had first rushed into Chu Shen’s small restaurant had a complicated look on his face. He had thought it was an easy KPI grab, even crossing districts to get it, but it turned out to be a huge misunderstanding!

In the past, there had been cases where a restaurant’s food was so delicious that someone reported it, and it turned out they had actually added poppy seeds.

This time, after receiving a report that a plate of fried rice was being sold for 288 yuan, and that the customers were absolutely raving about it, Officer Sun immediately led his team over.

These days, drug dealers are being wiped out left and right. How could he pass up such an easy KPI?

After all, drug busts don’t follow jurisdictional rules—they can happen anywhere, across provinces or even districts. So, crossing districts was nothing unusual.

He had thought this was a case that slipped through the cracks of another unit, but he never expected…

Just now, Officer Sun had received a call from the head of the anti-drug task force in the district where Chu Shen’s restaurant was located. The man on the other end couldn’t suppress his laughter.

“Chu Shen’s restaurant has been reported eleven times in the last three months. We’ve been doing weekly surprise inspections. Did you really think you could swoop in and grab this one?”

“It’s just that his fried rice is too good. The public’s awareness of reporting is very strong.”

Officer Sun didn’t want to say anything more.

“Is it really that good? When we went today, it wasn’t the fried rice you mentioned, but potato stew with meat. But the tests showed nothing.” He grumbled.

“Wait, potato stew with meat? Damn, Chu Shen came up with a new dish and didn’t even tell us?” His friend on the other end exclaimed, then shouted to his colleagues.

“Chu Shen’s got a new dish on the menu.”

Hearing the commotion on the other end of the line, Officer Sun: …

“Have you all been there to eat?”

“Yeah, it’s already a legendary spot in our bureau. But I can’t even go once a month—no days off. My wife and kids have been there, though. I’ll save my appetite.” The officer on the other end said.

“It’s mostly the younger guys in the team, no family or kids, who manage to go twice a month on their days off.”

After a few more words, Officer Sun hung up. As the lead officer in charge of this reported case, he approached the group of young people who had been “misunderstood.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. We’re sorry for the trouble. You’re free to go now.”

“No problem, it’s our civic duty. We understand the importance of fighting drugs,” Chu Shen said, as if he had an automatic response system. His words left Officer Sun speechless.

After a moment of thought, Officer Sun spoke again, with a bitter smile: “The pots and bowls we took for testing will be cleaned and returned to you. As for the food… well, there’s nothing we can do about that.”

The five of them had spent three hours at the police station. By the time they walked out, it was already 5 p.m.

“Time for dinner,” Yi Zhi said, looking at the sky.

“Do we have any ingredients left?” Chu Bingbing asked.

“The meat’s gone, and now we don’t even have the pots. We can’t cook. The stew takes a while to prepare. Yi Zhi brought some fruit, potatoes, and sweet potatoes, though,” Chu Shen said.

After the drug test, their phones were returned to them.

Now, Chu Shen looked at the restaurant’s customer group chat he had been added to. The messages had already surpassed 999+.

“@Chu Shen, did you get busted again?”

“Was it our district again? Haven’t they come enough times already?”

“It was that guy who was live-streaming at noon who reported you! He was live-streaming, calling himself ‘Brother Xiong the Righteous.’ What a jerk. Rolling my eyes.”

“@Chu Shen, please tell me the free fruit today will be a regular thing! Can you share the fruit supplier’s info?”

The mentions of Chu Shen were endless. Clearly, the officers’ raid had caused quite a stir, but some regular customers were already familiar with this scene.

“At least they closed the shop this time before making the arrest. I still remember the first time they came for a drug bust—everyone in the restaurant had to take a urine test. Let’s not even talk about that.”

Chu Shen quietly popped into the chat.

[Chu Shen]: We’re out. The fruit is from a friend’s farm, just a trial. You can add the WeChat and online store, but it’s not cheap.

Chu Shen shared [Contact Card].

He sent over Yi Zhi’s WeChat ID, then disappeared from the group again after confirming he was alive, ignoring the rest of the messages.

“Yi Zhi, let your relatives know. There’ll probably be a lot of people adding them,” Chu Shen said to Yi Zhi.

Yi Zhi was already overwhelmed by the flood of new friend requests on his WeChat.

So many people, so many new adds.

Chu Shen had to go back to the restaurant to clean up the mess. He politely declined his friends’ offers to help.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. You guys wouldn’t know where things go anyway. It’s already 5 p.m., and it’ll take a while to get back to school. You’ve been through enough today because of me. Go rest,” he said, his eyes filled with apology.

“I’ll bring fried rice for everyone tomorrow morning.”

Chu Bingbing thought for a moment. “I’m not going back to the dorm tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow morning. I need to sort out some clothes.”

Since her personal space in the dorm was limited, she had brought not only the freebies from the comic convention but also some seasonal clothes she no longer planned to wear. She had intended to sort through them slowly in the afternoon, but the trip to the police station had disrupted her plans.

“I’m not going back with you guys either. I’ve got some things to take care of,” Yi Zhi said without elaborating.

In the end, only A-Yan and Zhu Jue boarded the subway back to Bin City University.

It was Sunday, and the roads were starting to get congested. The subway, with its billions of passengers, was the more cost-effective and traffic-free option.

“Zhu Jue, what a dramatic day,” A-Yan said, leaning her head against Zhu Jue’s on the subway. They held hands, both looking a bit worn out.

“I really want that potato stew with meat,” A-Yan murmured. The more she couldn’t have it, the more she craved it.

Having been interrupted mid-meal, the memory of the potato and beef stew seemed even more delicious, making her mouth water.

“We’ll go again next week. By then, Chu Shen will have perfected it,” Zhu Jue said, gently smoothing A-Yan’s messy hair.

“Yeah, I wonder what new dishes Chu Shen will come up with next,” A-Yan said, resting her head on Zhu Jue’s shoulder.

“At least today’s meal was free. I wonder how much Chu Shen will charge for it later.”

Zhu Jue thought for a moment and said, “We might make it into a combo with fried rice, or we could just remove the fried rice and only offer plain rice.”

Although the braised pork with potatoes could be prepared in large batches and kept warm over low heat, if someone had to fry rice at the same time, Chu Shen would be the only one working in the entire shop. It would be way too busy, and even a culinary god like him didn’t have an apprentice to help out.

A-Yan leaned on Zhu Jue’s shoulder and dozed off for a while. Zhu Jue tilted his head slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on her, holding her hand without moving, occasionally glancing up at the upcoming station.

To ensure she slept comfortably, he maintained the same posture the entire time.

As they approached a station, he gently shook her hand. A-Yan, still half-asleep, looked up at him.

“Zhu Jue.”

“We’re almost at the school,” Zhu Jue said softly.

Since their right hands were intertwined and A-Yan was leaning on his right shoulder, Zhu Jue shifted slightly and extended his left arm, his strong hand supporting the back of her head and neck to prevent her from bumping it.

After napping for a while, the two of them walked from the subway station into the campus, feeling much more awake.

They had dinner at the cafeteria, but after having the fried rice and braised pork with potatoes at lunch, the usually satisfying cafeteria food now seemed bland and unappetizing.

Having their taste buds hit with such a double whammy in a single day, A-Yan couldn’t help but sigh while eating.

“What are we going to do after graduation? We won’t be able to eat Chu Shen’s cooking anymore.” They were likely to return to Ning City after graduation, and by then, Chu Shen might not even be running his small restaurant anymore.

By that time, their taste buds, spoiled by four years of university, would probably become unbearably picky.

“Given Chu Shen’s personality, he might become so successful that he’d leave Bin City and open a shop somewhere no one knows him,” Zhu Jue remarked.

Hearing Zhu Jue’s words, A-Yan rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

Right now, Chu Shen was a rising star in the culinary world, but by then, he might have retired as a fully accomplished master chef. If he were to open another shop in seclusion, it might just start the cycle all over again!

She also thought about her other roommates and realized she couldn’t even imagine what they’d all be like four years from now.

After all, compared to their classmates who were following the usual paths—grad school, studying abroad, joining big companies, or becoming civil servants—the extraordinary lives of the people around her were completely unpredictable, destined to be anything but ordinary.

Neither of them ate much for dinner. Sitting on the cafeteria’s sofa chairs, A-Yan and Zhu Jue scrolled through their phones.

#Bin City Restaurant Reported by Streamer for Having Too Delicious Fried Rice#

“It really was him who reported it!” A-Yan exclaimed, her whole body jolting as she saw the trending topic.

She clicked into the post, which contained a recording of a livestream.

The person in the livestream was none other than the overly critical “Brother Xiong” who had been at Chu Shen’s restaurant earlier that day.

A-Yan and Zhu Jue watched the half-hour-long livestream recording together, witnessing how Brother Xiong and his viewers had concocted an elaborate conspiracy theory, even going so far as to livestream his trip to the police station to “report” the restaurant.

“People’s awareness of scams is really strong,” A-Yan concluded.

To be honest, when she first entered Chu Shen’s restaurant, if it weren’t for the golden characters above his head, she might have also called the police right away.

Under the livestream recording on Weibo, excited netizens were commenting.

“Is this real? So, was there actually any Dug involved?”

“LOL, this is the first time I’ve seen someone suspect they were drugged and then report themselves to the police.”

“What happened next? What happened next?”

After finishing the recording, A-Yan tapped to exit and scrolled down, finding another highly popular post under the same trending topic, this time with a new hashtag.

[Hahaha]: #Bin City Restaurant Reported by Male Streamer for Having Too Delicious Fried Rice# I’m dying of laughter, friends! Hurry up and watch the latest livestream recording before it gets deleted! The restaurant wasn’t involved with Dugs, but this streamer got arrested twice—first for reporting the restaurant, then for extortion! #Streamer Who Reported Fried Rice Arrested for Extortion#

Wait, what?

A-Yan and Zhu Jue were both stunned. Extortion? But Chu Shen didn’t seem to have been extorted, did he?

A-Yan quickly clicked into the latest livestream recording, where Brother Xiong was greeting his viewers with a “survivor’s smile.”

“Folks, Brother Xiong is back! The urine test is done, and I’m clean, haha! It was all a misunderstanding—no poisoning here!”

“You guys scared me for nothing. I heard the restaurant got shut down, but hey, no harm done, right? All’s well that ends well.”

Just as Brother Xiong was rambling on about how calm and collected he was, how he voluntarily turned himself in, and how he underwent the urine test, several officers suddenly surrounded him outside the police station gates.

Brother Xiong froze. Had his test results come back wrong? Was he being arrested?

“Officer, there’s no mistake with my test results, right? Are you here to arrest me?” he stammered.

“Are you Li Xiong? Do you know Jia Xiaoping, He Wei, and Qian Wei?”

“I—I’m Li Xiong, but I don’t know those names. I’m a law-abiding citizen! It’s that restaurant’s fault!” He clearly thought this was about the test results and that the names mentioned were others who had eaten the “drugged” fried rice.

“What restaurant? You didn’t forget about extorting He’s Dumplings, Xiaoping’s Braised Dishes, and Uncle Wei’s Barbecue, did you?”

“The victims have collectively filed a report. You’ve got some nerve, extorting multiple businesses for large sums. Take him away.”

The livestream ended with the sound of “Take him away,” followed by a blur of noise.

A-Yan and Zhu Jue: Huh?

A-Yan immediately forwarded the video to their group chat.

[A-Yan]: Did this guy try to use the report about the restaurant being drugged to extort money?

On the trending list, two hashtags were now side by side, forming a sentence that hinted at a whole saga, capturing everyone’s attention.

The topic climbed the trending charts on three platforms. Brother Xiong, a streamer with millions of followers, quickly began losing fans, with many turning against him.

Some people only saw the simplified trending headlines and didn’t dive into the details, naturally assuming the story was:

“Because the fried rice was too delicious, a male streamer thought it was drugged and tried to extort the restaurant. When that failed, he angrily reported it. But while the fried rice didn’t land anyone in jail, the streamer did.”

Meanwhile, more questions and searches began popping up on the trending list.

“So, how good is this fried rice? How could it make someone think it was drugged?”

“Where are the kind souls? I need to know where this fried rice is right now!”

“Wait, is this the golden fried rice from the convention that day?”

Netizens flocked to social media platforms to laugh at the drama, watching as the offending streamer got banned, while also frantically searching for the location of the legendary fried rice.

The power of the crowd is immense. Among the customers who visited the Chu Family Eatery, there were inevitably a few “attention-seekers.” Soon, detailed information about the fried rice was dug up: the opening hours, the price of 288 yuan, the fried rice trending at the comic convention, the young chef who was still a student, and the daily suspicions and reports about the fried rice. Each detail was full of topics to discuss.

The Chu Family Eatery quickly gained a wave of bookmarks and check-ins on review websites, with food enthusiasts eagerly preparing to visit.

“Tomorrow is Monday! Weekend plans are set, full force ahead!”

“LOL, I just found out from my friend that this fried rice has been reported multiple times. She was even dragged in for a urine test, hahaha! The owner is so unlucky! I have to try it!”

Overnight, the Chu Family Eatery received immense exposure. Some even went to the closed shop that night to livestream in front of the shut door, while others shouted from downstairs.

In the large group chat hastily created by two dorms during the comic convention, everyone expressed collective concern for Chu Shen after learning about the situation. Even A-Yan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Chu Shen, as it was truly an undeserved misfortune.

This was the kind of attention that was destined to stir up a storm. From Gu Jiasui to Chu Shen, the chef, no one was spared.

[Ye Ping’an]: Brother Shen, are you okay? Do you need us to pick you up tomorrow morning?

[Lin Fan]: I can drive over tonight to get you. You can hide at school for a while.

[Yi Zhi]: I can pick you up too.

[Chu Shen]: It’s fine. I promised to bring everyone fried rice tomorrow.

Even at a time like this, Chu Shen was still thinking about his promise of fried rice. A-Yan was deeply moved when he saw the message.

[Chu Bingbing]: Fried rice can be eaten anytime. Your safety is more important right now.

[A-Yan]: +1

[Zhu Jue]: +2

[Yi Zhi]: +3

Upstairs in the small eatery, Chu Shen rubbed his nose as he read the messages on his phone. He hadn’t added many customers, but now both the group chat and private messages were flooded with people asking about his safety and offering to pick him up.

He silently asked the system, “System, are you sure you can teleport me away tomorrow morning?”

“The system confirms. The heir of the Culinary God can rest assured.”

“That’s good.” Chu Shen felt relieved. Although his Culinary God system could sometimes be unreliable and stingy, it was dependable in critical moments.

He replied to his friends, assuring them that he had a plan.

A promise is a promise. He said he would bring fried rice tomorrow, and he would definitely deliver.

“The heir of the Culinary God can enter the River of Culinary Dao. Would you like to enter tonight?” the system suddenly reminded him, startling Chu Shen.

“What? Didn’t you say the favorability wasn’t high enough before?”

He quickly checked the favorability of the couple. Surprisingly, it had suddenly increased to twenty points.

Chu Shen was puzzled. He had thought that causing the couple to be taken to the police station today would lower their favorability. At the time, he was relieved that it hadn’t dropped, but now it had unexpectedly increased by ten points. This was too sudden.

On Monday morning, Chu Shen was greeted at the school gate by Brother Fan and Yi Zhi. Under the protection of his two bodyguards, he returned to the dorm without incident.

The fried rice was successfully delivered, and he heard another prompt from the system.

“The heir of the Culinary God currently has two opportunities to enter the River of Culinary Dao. They can be used at any time.”

Chu Shen: Huh?

Why was his ancestral system suddenly so generous?

The couple’s favorability had reached thirty points, gaining another ten points overnight. This happiness was too sudden!

***

Chapter 46

Throughout the morning class, Chu Shen was preoccupied with one thought:

What exactly had he done to win the favor of those two living legends?

They had eaten the potato stew with meat yesterday, but the favorability hadn’t increased at that time.

Previously, their favorability had only gone up after eating his fried rice. Upon closer calculation, the sudden increase of twenty points in favorability—one from last night and another from this morning—didn’t seem to make much sense.

Could it be a delay in the favorability system?

If A-Yan knew about Chu Shen’s current doubts, she would probably feel a bit helpless.

She wasn’t the type to think highly of someone just because of food!

Initially, her favorability toward Chu Shen wasn’t very high, mainly because of the psychological shadow cast by the so-called “halo individuals.”

As for now, the fried rice was delicious, and anyone who could cook well naturally earned some goodwill.

Last night, seeing Chu Shen’s unfortunate situation, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him.

They had been taken from the shop for a urine test, which was an unjust ordeal, and it wasn’t something they could blame on the chef.

Even though Chu Shen’s small restaurant had been surrounded by nosy onlookers last night, he still firmly kept his promise and got up early this morning to cook fried rice for everyone.

A-Yan thought that Chu Shen was a pretty good person. Setting aside other things, given how frequently Chu’s small restaurant had been inspected and reported, most people would have cursed the heavens and the earth by now. But Chu Shen remained calm and even helped promote Yi Zhi’s fruit business.

If her previous favorability was solely based on his cooking skills, her current goodwill was because of the person he was. The girls of Room 320 were eating fried rice. Gu Jiasui had rushed back to school early this morning after not returning last night. Ding Ling, as usual, had entered the dorm just before curfew, and Chu Bingbing had stayed at Lakeside Paradise and hadn’t come back.

The lights went out on time, and after a tiring day, A-Yan had fallen asleep early. It wasn’t until Monday morning during breakfast that she talked with Ding Ling and Suisui about what had happened the day before.

“A drug test?” Gu Jiasui’s beautiful eyes flickered with surprise.

“A urine test?” Ding Ling paused her chopsticks.

“Yeah, it’s an experience I’ll never forget,” Chu Bingbing said, picking up a piece of pickled celery with her chopsticks.

A-Yan felt a sense of relief in her heart. Thank goodness Gu Jiasui hadn’t been there yesterday. Otherwise, the hot search might have climbed even higher. The stacking of halo individuals buffs was already overwhelming, and she couldn’t imagine what kind of explosive situation it would have caused.

“So, you guys had potato stew with meat yesterday?” Ding Ling blinked, catching the key point.

“We barely had a few bites before we were taken away for testing,” Yi Zhi said with a pained expression, occasionally glancing at her phone, where the flood of new messages was giving her a headache. Didn’t Chu Shen say the shop only had a 500-person group chat? Why had the messages been non-stop since last night?

As they ate, A-Yan scrolled through her phone. Although last night’s hot search had fallen off the homepage, it was still ranked around the teens when clicked. A quick scroll through real-time updates showed someone had posted a photo of the notice displayed at the entrance of Chu’s small restaurant. The comments under the post were filled with lamentations.

[Owner is attending school; temporary closure. Return date unknown.—Chu’s Small Restaurant]

“Owner! How can the owner still be in school? My goodness, such a stroke of fortune has come, and you’re closing?”

“I’m crying. Those people who went to his place are insane. Now the owner’s gone, and no one can eat there anymore.”

“I’m going crazy. Boss Chu, please, how long are you closing for? Is it until winter break?”

“I’m genuinely furious. Can those blackmailing streamers just drop dead? My friends and I worked so hard to keep this hidden gem a secret, but it’s been reported so many times, and now it’s been exposed. They’re even live-streaming outside the owner’s house. Why can’t you people just let me live in peace?”

The customers, haunted by the memory of the fried rice, were going insane, but there was no way they could blame the owner. The owner had to attend school—after all, he was enrolled in a top-tier university in the country. He could only cook for two days a week after finishing his classes, and now, with all the commotion, no one knew when they’d get to eat his food again.

In the classroom at Bin University, Chu Shen had set his group chat to “Do Not Disturb.” He had saved enough money from running the shop to cover his living expenses for all four years of university. Given the current situation, it was better to let things cool down. Once the hype passed, he could quietly reopen. In the meantime, he wasn’t particularly keen on cooking anyway. After all, he could still practice in the Chef God Space at night.

Once he had practiced the potato stew for about a month, he could reopen and introduce new dishes. Since being bound by the Chef God System, Chu Shen hadn’t taken a break. During the summer, he had practically opened the shop every day, and after school started, he had to juggle classes and the shop, leaving him with almost no days off.

It was time for him to take a proper rest. One of the good things about the Chef God System was that, although there were tasks, they weren’t mandatory. He could even negotiate with the system. Although the system wasn’t thrilled about it, there were no penalties for closing the shop.

Meanwhile, thanks to the attention from netizens, “Righteous Brother Xiong” had been taken away, and that same night, a certain district in Bin City released a blue-background police announcement stating that the case was still under investigation.

For Chu Shen, this week of quiet classes at school was almost worry-free. Although the internet had dug up his surname and the university he attended, there were hardly any photos of him since he always wore a chef’s uniform and a mask while working at the shop.

Occasionally, his classmates would joke, “Brother Chu, that famous fried rice chef who’s been trending online—is he related to you? Do you know him? Can you get us a spot in line?”

Chu Shen would just laugh it off. During the day, he attended classes, and when he had free time, he strolled around campus, chatted with his roommates, and played games. This was what university life was all about.

Of course, nights were different. While his roommates in Room 414 slept, Chu Shen would call out to the Chef God System in his mind.

“System, how do I enter the Culinary Dao River?”

Chu Shen was like a child who had just gotten a new toy, eager to dive in.

“How long does time pass in the Culinary Dao River? How much of a time difference is there compared to reality?”

Previously, when Chu Shen entered the Chef God Space at night to practice his cooking skills, the time ratio was roughly one-to-one. If he practiced for eight hours, eight hours would pass in reality. However, due to the special spatial enhancement, Chu Shen would wake up feeling refreshed and full of energy after his practice sessions.

That said, he didn’t enter the Chef God Space every night. Chu Shen was worried that if he kept this up for too long, he might become something less than human. Sleep was still important. In response to Chu Shen’s question, the system replied matter-of-factly: “The Culinary Dao River is different from the Chef God Space. When the Chef God Heir enters the Culinary Dao River, time does not synchronize with reality. There is no time difference.”

“No time difference at all?” Chu Shen was stunned.

“System, are you saying that if I enter the Culinary Dao River at 11 p.m., no matter how long I stay, it will still be 11 p.m. when I come out? Time stands still?”

“The Chef God Heir may interpret it as such. The Culinary Dao River projects the Chef God Heir in a form detached from reality.”

A soul projection?

Previously, in the Chef God Space, a body identical to his real one would appear for practice.

“Then I’ll apply to enter the Culinary Dao River tonight,” Chu Shen said.

“The Culinary God’s successor, please close your eyes and prepare.”

With the voice of the Culinary God System, Chu Shen closed his eyes and immediately found himself in the familiar Culinary God Space. However, unlike before, this time a long, winding river stretched out before him. The river appeared before his eyes, meandering in silence, with nine bends and eighteen turns. He was stunned. Chu Shen had thought “Culinary Dao River” was just a metaphor, but it turned out to be a literal river.

“Please step forward, Culinary God’s successor,” the system’s voice echoed. Chu Shen moved forward, gazing at the river that twisted and turned within the space, with no visible beginning or end.

“Shouldn’t there be a boat? I can’t just jump in, can I?” Chu Shen asked. Although his body was still outside, would his soul drown if he jumped in?

As soon as he finished speaking, a small canoe appeared. Without hesitation, Chu Shen stepped into it. The river rippled, and the scenery around him changed.

This was… Mist rose on both sides of the river, and within the mist, silhouettes from history began to appear along the banks.

He saw someone skillfully carving a cow with a knife, the movements almost magical. He saw a massive bronze vessel with a fire beneath it, where ancient people from thousands of years ago were cooking food. He saw a carefree scholar, light on his feet, carrying a square piece of pork, leisurely working by the stove.

Chu Shen watched as one scene after another flashed by—each one a different cooking or food preparation scenario. The small boat he was in drifted with the wind, and with every blink of his eye, he saw a new scene.

There was tea brewing, wine fermenting, rice steaming, and cows being butchered. Different ingredients were transformed into countless variations by skilled hands, and the styles of clothing he glimpsed could have composed a song of dynasties.

Chu Shen reached out to touch one of the scenes, and the canoe was suddenly caught in a whirlpool. Before he could react, he opened his eyes to find himself being pulled along by someone.

“Brother Chu, hurry! Master Su has agreed to teach us how to make braised meat today!”

Chu Shen was dragged along, realizing he had transformed into a child, about nine or ten years old, and both he and the person pulling him were dressed in ancient clothing!

Master Su? Braised meat? Combined with the clothing, Chu Shen’s heart skipped a beat. Was this the Master Su he was thinking of? The one whose poetry everyone had memorized since childhood? Culinary God System, are you this powerful?

Yi Zhi had been incredibly busy this week. She was truly swamped. Although she had prepared herself when she gave Chu Shen access to her alternate account, she never expected so many people to buy from her.

She couldn’t understand it. The amount of fruit she had placed in Chu Shen’s small restaurant wasn’t much, and even if there had been two hundred customers that day, why were nearly a thousand people adding her as a contact?

Wasn’t the group supposed to have only five hundred members?

She was overwhelmed, renting a warehouse a bit off-campus, customizing packaging, negotiating prices with courier companies, and frantically planting crops in her space.

The strawberries and various types of cherry tomatoes from her space were selling like hotcakes, and most customers were placing at least two orders. Although Yi Zhi had announced that orders would take one to two weeks to ship in hopes of discouraging some buyers, very few canceled their orders.

Her strawberries, priced at nearly ten yuan each, were being bought in bulk—three to five pounds at a time!

With a massive backlog of orders, Yi Zhi had no choice but to expand her planting area. She had initially just wanted to deal with the excess fruit in her space, but now she was practically running a farm. Thankfully, her space had expanded significantly, and she had a large stock of fruit ready to be packed. With the help of the spiritual spring and her own ability to accelerate growth, she could keep up with the demand.

Growing the fruit was one thing, but the packaging was the real headache. This week, aside from attending classes, Yi Zhi spent all her time in her space—planting, harvesting, and packaging.

Fortunately, Yi Zhi was strong, and the spiritual spring in her space kept her going despite the non-stop work.

After packaging and shipping large quantities of fruit, Yi Zhi added a tiny bit of spiritual energy to each package to keep the fruit fresh. These boxes needed to be delivered the next day as fresh produce, but she couldn’t just take them out of her space. She had to rent a warehouse and a van, sometimes pretending to deliver the goods herself and other times driving to the courier drop-off point.

After a whole week, Yi Zhi finally had the process more or less under control. From planting and harvesting to packaging, shipping, and customer service, she was doing it all by herself. After shipping out all the orders from customers who had visited Chu Shen’s restaurant, Yi Zhi didn’t even have a day to rest.

Most of the customers were from Bin City, where Chu Shen’s restaurant was located, so local deliveries didn’t even require next-day shipping—they arrived the same afternoon. And when the quickest customers tasted the fruit that evening—

“Holy crap, this flavor is amazing! It’s just as good as the fruit from the restaurant!”

Some customers hadn’t even tried the free fruit at the restaurant and had only placed orders because Chu Shen had mentioned it in the group chat. But after tasting it, they immediately placed more orders—for their families, for their friends. Even though the fruit was expensive, the high price matched the top-tier quality. It had been so long since they had tasted fruit with such natural flavor!

After shipping out all the orders, Yi Zhi quickly calculated the normal supply capacity of her space and announced that, to ensure quality, she would only accept a fixed number of orders each week. She would ship them out as the fruit ripened, and once the limited stock was sold, that was it. She switched to selling on Taobao, with a limited quantity available each time. She simply couldn’t handle more.

She had only wanted to deal with some excess fruit, not run a one-woman farm! As for why she didn’t hire help, Yi Zhi had considered it carefully. While she could hire someone for packaging and customer service, the planting and harvesting had to be done by her. And since this wasn’t a full-time fruit business, she couldn’t hire long-term employees. Short-term or daily workers probably wouldn’t meet her standards.

In the end, Yi Zhi learned one thing very clearly: if you don’t know how to manage a team, you’ll end up doing everything yourself!

For A-Yan, this was an ordinary week, a week where nothing happened. From Monday to Saturday, the calm campus life made her feel as if she had stepped into a different world. Nothing happened!

On Saturday, A-Yan and Zhu Jue even went to see a movie and shopped at the mall, and still, nothing happened!

“Could it be that last week was just too eventful?” A-Yan wondered.

The two of them stood by the glass railing on the fourth floor of the mall, leaning on the handrail and watching a performance in the central atrium below.

A-Yan fell into deep thought. Could this temporary calm be the calm before another storm?

But aside from her and Zhu Jue, the other roommates still seemed busy.

“Yi Zhi has been really busy this week. Normally, she’s in the dorm except for classes, but this week, she’s been nowhere to be seen.”

“Sometimes when she comes out of the bathroom and sees us, she even gets startled.”

A-Yan mused, stroking her chin.

“Every day in the dorm, she’s glued to her phone and computer, sending messages non-stop. I almost thought she was in an online relationship,” someone remarked.

Zhu Jue paused for a moment. “But Chu Shen has been acting normal this week—well, not entirely normal. He’s suddenly become obsessed with the Song Dynasty. He went to the library to borrow books like The Biography of Su Dongpo, related literature, and even The History of Song.”

“Aside from going to classes, Chu Shen just stays in the dorm reading books and watching documentaries.”

This was unusual for Chu Shen, who used to jump at the chance to join Ye Ping’an and Yuan Ye for gaming sessions. This week, their gaming group was often short on players, and Zhu Jue even got called in to fill the gap.

“Huh? So it’s not Chu Shen who’s been in touch with Yi Zhi,” A-Yan, who loved gossip, was surprised she had guessed wrong.

“But Yi Zhi has been bringing back a lot of fruit lately. There’s so much that the five of us can’t even finish it. It’s like a happy problem,” A-Yan continued.

“She sent some to our dorm too. Chu Shen said it’s because Yi Zhi’s relatives’ farm sent over a huge batch after they had too many customers at the shop,” Zhu Jue explained.

“Her relatives’ farm?” A-Yan’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. The fruits Yi Zhi had brought to Chu Shen’s family restaurant were clearly from the same source.

Thinking about Yi Zhi’s recent mysterious comings and goings, could she have rented a farm somewhere in Bin City?

Even if it were her relatives’ farm, it’s unlikely they’d have such a limitless supply of high-quality fruits. It made more sense if Yi Zhi owned it herself.

And then there were the other ingredients she sent to Chu Shen’s shop—things like potatoes and sweet potatoes. If they were all from the same farm, it must be a huge operation. There’s no way Yi Zhi could grow them on the small plots of land the agricultural college allocated to students.

A-Yan felt her reasoning was solid. Fruit orders exploding—Yi Zhi handling the orders—her mysterious behavior this week—it all added up!

And the quality of these fruits was unmatched by anything on the market. They were in a league of their own. A-Yan’s description of them as “refining one’s essence and marrow” might have been a bit exaggerated, but it wasn’t far off.

“Zhu Jue, you’ve noticed it too, right? Eating those fruits feels like…”

The performance in the mall’s atrium was a bit noisy, so A-Yan and Zhu Jue leaned in close to whisper, making sure no one else could hear.

Zhu Jue nodded. “It’s like absorbing the essence of heaven and earth. After eating them, I feel sharper, like my senses are heightened.”

A-Yan nodded vigorously. From the gardenias at the start of the semester to Yi Zhi’s recent trips to the flower market, it was almost certain now—Yi Zhi was an apocalypse survivor with powers related to soil and plants, a so-called “wood-element” ability user.

Only that could explain the unique quality of the fruits and her skill in identifying precious stones.

Last Saturday, Yi Zhi had brought back a box of chrysanthemums from the flower market. A-Yan had watched them day by day as they miraculously revived on the balcony, even undergoing some strange transformations.

“Ability users are amazing. Their money-making potential is insane,” A-Yan whispered to Zhu Jue.

They had discussed selling fruits in the dorm before, and A-Yan guessed Yi Zhi was following some of Chu Bingbing’s suggestions. The fruits weren’t cheap.

Of course, this income was nothing compared to the billion-yuan days Yi Zhi had during her time at the antique street.

After watching the performance for a while, A-Yan and Zhu Jue walked out of the mall, still chatting quietly. “Zhu Jue, what other kinds of abilities do you think there are?”

Compared to the century-old dynasty behind Gu Jiasui or the ghostly world behind Ding Ling, A-Yan was more curious about Yi Zhi, who came from the apocalypse.

The apocalypse—a world at its end. What kind of environment could that be?

The fact that humans evolved abilities in such conditions spoke volumes about how harsh survival must have been.

And observing Yi Zhi’s habits only deepened A-Yan’s awe. Her relentless early-morning workouts, rain or shine, her massive appetite, and her careful attitude toward everything—these were all marks left by the apocalypse. A-Yan didn’t know how Yi Zhi had lived before, but at least now, it was clear that Yi Zhi, the apocalypse survivor, was living a good life.

“If she’s confirmed to be a wood-element user, then according to traditional classifications, there should at least be the five-element abilities, right? Like controlling metal, wood, water, fire, and earth,” Zhu Jue speculated.

“Hmm, that makes sense. Maybe there are also abilities to communicate with animals,” A-Yan added.

If there were abilities related to plants, there should also be ones related to animals. A-Yan’s imagination ran wild. But thinking carefully, she hadn’t seen Yi Zhi use her abilities for combat. Maybe she was a specialist in cultivating plants, like a “life skill” player in a game.

Thankfully, Yi Zhi was probably a wood-element user. If she were a fire-element user, that would feel incredibly dangerous. The two walked out of the mall and onto the street. The area around the mall had a mix of trendy photo spots, art installations, and food stalls.

It was the weekend, and some places were crowded. A-Yan and Zhu Jue wandered toward a quieter area and noticed a door standing in the middle of the street. It was a wooden door with strange patterns and a sign that read “Little Shop.”

“Huh? Is this part of the art installations?”

“It’s just a door. There’s nothing around it selling stuff. Is it still being set up?”

A-Yan was curious. The door stood alone, and the passersby acted as if it were perfectly normal, not finding it strange at all.

A few meters away, there were other odd art installations—statues spaced about ten meters apart.

“This mall has partnered with some artist group. It’s probably part of the installations,” Zhu Jue agreed.

“Zhu Jue, this door looks like it’s growing out of the ground,” A-Yan said, blinking.

The door had no frame, just a handle, and no visible support like a metal stand. Yet it stood firmly in place.

The two stood in front of the door, holding hands. A-Yan’s free hand twitched with curiosity. Sometimes, hands have a mind of their own. Before her brain could react, her hand reached out.

She didn’t touch the handle. Her fingertips barely brushed the surface of the door, using no force at all. In the next second, a blinding white light burst before their eyes.

“What’s happening? My eyes!” A-Yan exclaimed.

Zhu Jue closed her eyes but instinctively reached out to shield A-Yan’s.

With their eyes closed, they heard a calm male voice.

“Welcome to the Magical Little Shop.”

“Greetings, guests.”

When they opened their eyes, they were stunned by the scene before them. It was as if the world had shifted in an instant. They were no longer on the street outside the mall. In front of them was a shop. A long-haired, handsome young man sat behind the counter, watching them.

“The shop doesn’t have many items. Feel free to browse,” he said.

A-Yan and Zhu Jue turned to look behind them. The lone door was gone, replaced by the shop’s entrance.

He yawned, and A-Yan blinked hard, trying to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. A new aura appeared. Above the head of the long-haired young man floated five golden characters:

[The Dimensional Convenience Store]

***

Chapter 47

The long-haired young man merely glanced at the two of them, not even bothering to stand up and greet them. He remained lazily seated behind the counter, looking completely at ease.

A-Yan held Jue Jue’s hand, and the two exchanged a look. Speak of the devil.

They had just mentioned how unusually quiet this week had been, and now something big had happened.

A dimensional convenience store—was this what they thought it was?

A store selling goods from different dimensions?

A-Yan thought for a moment, then spoke cautiously, “Excuse me, what do you use for transactions here?”

“And if we don’t buy anything, can we leave?”

A door had suddenly appeared on the street, and they had barely touched it—not even grabbing the handle—before being pulled inside. Put nicely, it was like meeting a destined connection; put bluntly, it was practically forced solicitation!

Was this place going to force them to buy something?

Though A-Yan thought she and Jue Jue had already encountered some pretty bizarre people with strange auras, this one took the cake.

They had been whisked away from the street—was this some kind of alternate dimension?

Back when she was a kid watching old Hong Kong dramas, shops like this that you suddenly entered often traded in things like souls, looks, or even lifespans!

A dimensional convenience store—who knew what kind of dimensions this connected to? Could it lead to the eighteen layers of hell or some demonic abyss?

So, A-Yan was being extra careful with her words.

At the same time, she was observing the environment of the dimensional convenience store. The space wasn’t very large, and the interior had a very natural, rustic feel to it.

The glass and wooden cabinets had a lot of empty space between each item, with only the names of the products labeled. There were no prices listed.

Products without prices were even creepier! What if they were weighed on a scale and cost years of her life? A-Yan was quite fond of her lifespan, thank you very much.

The store owner lounging behind the counter looked exactly like the typical lazy, indifferent owner of a neighborhood convenience store.

Only after hearing A-Yan’s questions did the long-haired young man straighten up slightly.

“We accept Xia Country Currency through electronic payments—QR codes, blue codes, and cloud payments are all fine. Cash is also accepted. If nothing else works, bartering is an option.”

“Though the store is small, it’s not a shady business. We don’t force anyone to buy anything. If you don’t find anything you like, just turn around and walk out the door, and you’ll be back where you started.”

Hearing this, A-Yan felt a bit more at ease. Electronic payments? That was amazing. This place felt like it was in some alternate dimension, yet it had internet access?

A-Yan nodded at him. “We’ll take a look around first.”

She was also curious about what exactly this dimensional convenience store was selling.

If items with special abilities were to leak out into the world, wouldn’t things become even more chaotic?

A-Yan and Jue Jue began examining the products in front of them. Truthfully, there weren’t many items in the store, but they were definitely things the two had never seen before.

The shelves in the area where they stood seemed to be filled with special “food items.”

These were snacks that A-Yan and Zhu Jue had never encountered before.

“Stellar Cloud Brand Nutrient Supplement.”

A-Yan picked up a small bottle made of an unknown material, about two fingers wide. It was engraved with descriptions and instructions in both Chinese and another unfamiliar script. The spiral nebula logo was prominently displayed across the bottle, and A-Yan noticed it was labeled with [Standard Single-Day Energy – Chocolate Flavor].

So this was the legendary nutrient supplement? One bottle could sustain you for a whole day? She wondered how it actually tasted. A-Yan rubbed her chin. From her experience, things like compressed biscuits and energy bars were usually high in oil, sugar, and had a long shelf life, but their taste was nothing to write home about.

A dimension capable of producing such portable nutrient supplements must have a technological level far beyond the modern era, right?

She had no idea what kind of raw materials were used to make this. While it would be incredibly useful in time-sensitive situations or on the battlefield, A-Yan couldn’t imagine consuming it as part of her daily diet.

“Which manufacturer made this?”

A-Yan put on an innocent expression as she asked, “Portable nutrient supplements—are these for military use? Why is there text from an ethnic minority group? Is this for export? Or is it some small factory’s sci-fi collaboration?”

Lu Chen finally looked up. Though he was the owner of this convenience store, this was his first time welcoming customers, and he couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

“I can’t disclose the supply chain, but you can rest assured about the quality. One bottle of this portable nutrient supplement can provide all the energy you need for an entire day.”

Lu Chen had been secretly observing the two for a while now. They looked like an ordinary young college couple.

“It’s perfect for exam week or when you’re in a hurry,” he added, reciting the sales pitch he had prepared.

These were his first customers in this world—he had to make at least one sale!

For this occasion, he had specifically stocked up on snacks. Though they looked different from Earth’s usual fare, Lu Chen was confident they could sell.

Grand opening, grand opening! Ever since he had been inexplicably bound to the dimensional system, his dream of graduating from college and opening a small, laid-back snack store had taken a sharp turn.

From an ordinary snack store, it had transformed into a dimensional convenience store.

As a rookie store owner, Lu Chen had originally planned to stock his store with spicy strips, dried tofu, figs, crispy noodles, fish skin beans, and monkey candy—items that had just arrived.

Now, they were all sitting in the warehouse, waiting for him to slowly consume them himself. Lu Chen was the newest of newbies when it came to running a dimensional store. He could only travel to other dimensions once a month, and even then, it was random—he couldn’t choose which dimension he’d end up in.

For his first dimensional trip, Lu Chen had spent a fortune preparing himself. Uncertain of what level of dimension he’d end up in, though he guessed it would most likely be a low-tech ancient one, he had made multiple plans. He prepared finely tailored clothing from several dynasties, modern outfits, self-defense weapons, and items that could fetch high prices in ancient times—glass beads, soap, custom-made mirrors, artificially synthesized gemstones, traditional skincare and cosmetics, high-yield grain seeds, and backup medicines.

Lu Chen had even spent a long time studying the “Three Great Books for Time Travelers” and meticulously taking notes on online guides about traveling to ancient times. But when his first dimensional trip finally happened, Lu Chen was dumbfounded.

Who could have told him why a store owner from an ordinary tech-based dimension like his would end up in a future interstellar world on his very first trip?

Lu Chen, who had grown out his hair and dressed himself in ancient-style clothing, was completely stunned. Especially when a warrior in powered armor suddenly appeared in his store—his heart nearly stopped. The guy, who looked like he had walked straight out of a sci-fi movie, was equally shocked to see Lu Chen in his ancient attire and wig. But when he saw the items in the store, he became absolutely ecstatic.

“Bro, are you a fan of ancient Earth too? Your outfit is spot on!”

“These clothes look just like the ones in the museum. The fabric doesn’t look like synthetic silk—could it be pure natural material? Wow, you’re really into ancient Earth, huh?”

The armored soldier couldn’t help but move closer to Lu Chen, carefully examining his face.

“Indeed, you are pure-blood among pure-bloods. Even the holographic actors in those star-net dramas nowadays can hardly model such a traditional face.”

Pure-blood? Lu Chen didn’t dare to say a word.

The dimensional system had equipped him with an automatic translator, but he was afraid that opening his mouth would reveal his ignorance. He knew absolutely nothing about this world!

Even Earth had become “Ancient Earth” in the mouth of this mecha soldier. Lu Chen maintained a faint smile on his face, neither confirming nor denying, to preserve his air of mystery.

Lu Chen displayed the cheap little mirrors he had originally planned to use to trick ancient people, along with various glass cups and ceramic skincare bottles. The mecha soldier was so excited that he seemed ready to pull out a magnifying glass to inspect them.

“Bro, is this your personal museum? Did you collect all these yourself? They’re in such great condition! These look like everyday items from before the Great Galactic Expansion. Very few of these have survived to this day.”

Lu Chen smiled without speaking, silently gathering information from the excited words of his first customer.

In the end, after much pleading from the soldier named Lucas, Lu Chen sold him a small handheld mirror with an old-fashioned pattern on the back for 300,000 star coins.

After sending off his first inter-dimensional customer, Lu Chen immediately closed the shop.

He observed the ordinary people outside through a hidden window in the shop. Thankfully, not everyone was dressed in those armored suits.

Lu Chen dug out a set of plain dark blue clothes without any logos from his storage and put them on before heading out. He looked like Grandma Liu entering the Grand View Garden as he stepped into this future dimension. There was so much to take in that his brain couldn’t process it all. In the sky, floating spacecraft drifted by, while on the aerial tracks, sleek flying cars of various designs raced past. The tracks seemed to overlap, as if multiple pathways were built into a single route.

People on the street were mouthing words to the air. It wasn’t until Lu Chen had spent two days on the planet Karu that he realized they were likely using privacy shields on their neural interfaces, so others couldn’t see or hear who they were communicating with. Because of his “pure-blood” appearance, Lu Chen even altered his face and hair. Fortunately, he had made a lot of preparations for his trip to ancient times.

Now, even though he hadn’t made it to the past, he could still disguise himself in the future. Lu Chen stayed on Karu for a full two weeks. With 300,000 star coins, he quickly purchased some daily necessities of the era and a virtual space. As long as he didn’t speak, he could easily pass as a star-faring citizen.

300,000 was a huge sum of money, more than enough to live comfortably. A standard neural interface only cost a few thousand. But the cautious Lu Chen didn’t dare to touch the high-tech products of this era. The gap in technological advancement was too vast. Even if he brought something back, the difference in societal tech levels would make it seem like an incomprehensible relic.

So, he slowly explored the star-net of this era. However, due to the long passage of time and the loss of historical continuity, the interstellar age viewed “Ancient Earth” from a thousand years ago through an extremely mysterious lens.

Lu Chen found it difficult to locate technical materials that were close to the level of his real-world technology! The technological gap was too wide. Purchasing high-energy weapons required various certifications, and even clothes and furniture were high-tech products.

After wandering around for a while, Lu Chen pondered what kind of goods he should stock. Eventually, he settled on food from the interstellar era. No era is complete without snacks.

Even in this age where the descendants of Earthlings had spread across the universe, the hottest topics on the star-net were still related to the cuisine of their home planet. The ongoing feud between Brand A’s salty tofu brain nutrient drink and Brand B’s sweet tofu-flavored nutrient drink, dragging the entire population into a marketing war, left Lu Chen utterly stunned when he first saw it. We Earthlings are truly something. Two thousand years later, even with fragmented historical records, we’re still arguing over whether tofu brain should be salty or sweet for a whole month.

In the end, Lu Chen stocked up on some tech products (strictly for personal use) and kept a few extras, just in case he ended up in a world closer to the future where the tech level wasn’t too different. Of course, the real items he planned to bring back to modern Earth were the various snacks from the future.

He specifically chose ones with packaging that didn’t look too strange and flavors that modern people could accept. To taste-test these snacks, Lu Chen had to put in a lot of effort.

Isn’t it normal for a small shop to sell some quirky snacks?

After all, people from Xia Country are always coming up with innovative food creations, so it wouldn’t draw any special attention. So, when faced with the young woman’s questions, Lu Chen simply brushed them off with claims of confidential sourcing. A-Yan let out an “Oh,” not pressing further. There was no hurry. She put down the nutrient drink in her hand and turned to look at other products.

“Is this cotton candy?”

She picked up a lightweight, transparent bag containing a star cluster candy. The strangely colored star cluster was encased in the transparent bag, its volume expanded, making it seem like you could reach out and touch the cluster itself.

“Customer, this is star cluster candy. It’s very practical—you can eat it, and it also provides a unique experience at night.”

“Watch this—”

Lu Chen snapped his fingers, and the dimensional shop instantly transformed into nighttime. A-Yan and Zhu Jue watched as the star cluster candy in her hand emitted a faint glow. In the deep darkness, it felt like gazing at the stars, seeing a star cluster from another part of the universe.

A-Yan was mesmerized. A candy that could glow and be eaten? Earlier, there was the Spiral Nebula brand nutrient drink, and now this star cluster candy. Could snacks like this be developed a hundred years from now?

Is this the future of our time, or… the universe?

Just then, the shopkeeper Lu Chen’s voice came again: “Each star cluster candy represents a star cluster in the universe, replicated at a 1:1 scale based on the moment it was observed.”

The first time he tried this star cluster candy, Lu Chen was also pleasantly surprised. Unfortunately, his time in the interstellar dimension was limited. Otherwise, he could have traveled to a star cluster tourist spot like the locals, holding up a star cluster candy for a memorable photo.

A-Yan: Huh?

This star cluster candy in front of her seemed even more practical than the bedroom star lights that had once been popular online. She was already tempted. With another snap of Lu Chen’s fingers, A-Yan and Zhu Jue’s surroundings returned to daylight. A-Yan touched the transparent bag. Since the star cluster candy was quite large—about the size of a freshly made cotton candy from the streets—she temporarily placed it on the counter and continued browsing other products.

Zhu Jue picked up a square transparent box from the counter, inside of which was a round, glossy fruit. The surface of the fruit was peculiar, as if shrouded in a hazy white mist.

“Is there dry ice inside?” Zhu Jue asked.

Lu Chen chuckled at this moment, “No, this is the Mistglow Fruit, a type of fruit that only blooms and bears fruit under special conditions.”

“Mistglow Fruit?” A-Yan was puzzled.

“This fruit grows under unique climatic conditions, thriving only in places shrouded in perpetual mist. When the external glow of dawn or dusk shines upon it, its skin changes color along with the shifting light.”

“Each Mistglow Fruit tastes different. Before you taste it, the last glow it was exposed to determines its final flavor and appearance.”

Lu Chen explained the information he had learned while sourcing the fruit. If he hadn’t personally tried the Mistglow Fruit, he would have thought it only existed in human imagination or novels.

“Is this a natural chameleon fruit? The taste of dawn and dusk… it doesn’t sound very appetizing,” A-Yan thought to herself.

It sounded like some kind of celestial treasure from a cultivation novel, but according to the shopkeeper, it didn’t seem to have any special effects.

Lu Chen had expected the young couple in front of him to have many questions or look at him as if he were crazy after hearing his explanation, which sounded like something out of a fantasy.

But the two simply nodded and said, “We understand.”

As if everything he said was completely normal, they believed him without finding it strange at all.

Was their train of thought too long?

Surely, it couldn’t be that he was the one who was abnormal! Lu Chen thought to himself. After all, since the Mistglow Fruit had to mature under natural dawn or dusk light and was extremely expensive, he had specifically bought some to experiment with after bringing it back to Blue Star. The fruits exposed to morning and evening glows had completely different flavors.

A-Yan then turned her attention to the planetary drinks on the nearby counter. They were round, planet-shaped containers with natural bamboo straws. She had no idea what was inside.

“Is this a drink? Coconut shell?” Although she knew it wasn’t coconut, A-Yan pretended to guess anyway.

“This is the Super Galaxy Cup,” Lu Chen replied.

“The large galaxy cup contains several small planets, each with a different flavor. It’s like a blind box.”

“Small planets?” A-Yan was still confused.

“Do you drink different flavors through the straw? Or is it jelly?”

Lu Chen demonstrated by holding a galaxy cup in his hand. He inserted the bamboo straw, and like a coconut, the galaxy cup seemed to activate, revealing six small planets circling around it.

“Good luck,” Lu Chen said.

“You got six planets. The galaxy cup is like gambling—if you’re unlucky, you might only get three, but if you’re lucky, you can get six or seven. The flavors are also a gamble.”

Lu Chen poked the straw into one of the small planets and frowned slightly.

“Yellow Rock Grass juice. This one doesn’t taste good.”

Yellow Rock Grass was an edible plant grown on many planets in the interstellar era, recommended by nutritionists for its health benefits, but it was truly unpleasant to eat. A-Yan watched as he poked the straw into another small planet. This time, instead of a drink, a small figurine popped out.

“It really is a blind box!” A-Yan’s eyes sparkled. This thing was interesting—she wanted it!

One fascinating snack after another caught A-Yan’s attention, and she kept asking about the prices, her face showing a mix of excitement and hesitation. While these snacks didn’t seem to have any special benefits, A-Yan and Jue Jue discussed and picked out a few items, especially the Mistglow Fruit, which cost 1,000 Xia Country Currency per piece.

Since they wanted to try both morning and evening glows, A-Yan took two, which amounted to a whopping 2,000 Xia Country Currency! A-Yan wasn’t worried about the products not matching their descriptions. The words “Dimensional Convenience Store” were clearly displayed above the shopkeeper’s head, so these snacks, which she had never seen in real life, were likely genuine.

Moreover, the owner of this Dimensional Convenience Store wasn’t like the other extraordinary people A-Yan and Zhu Jue knew. He wasn’t someone they were likely to meet again. A-Yan thought about it and decided that experiencing this “Dimensional Convenience Store” was a rare opportunity. If she might only get to visit once in her lifetime, she might as well go all out!

Galaxy Cup? I’ll take it! Star Cluster Candy? I want it!

Nutrition drinks? Let’s grab a few different flavors to try. They’d be so convenient for outdoor trips. After a shopping spree, A-Yan and Jue Jue checked out, and the shopkeeper handed them a compressed packaging bag as a gift. This thing was amazing. It was the size of a button in their hands, but when they rubbed it with warm hands, it expanded into a large bag. When not in use, they could simply squeeze it back into a tiny size. It was incredibly lightweight and super convenient.

“Thank you for your patronage. All you need to do is silently think of the place you want to go, pull open the door, and you’ll arrive there directly.”

“If you don’t have a destination in mind, opening the door will take you back to where you came from.”

Lu Chen hadn’t expected the young couple to buy so much. This was a big opening sale for his world, and it lifted his spirits.

“The door to this store can only be seen by those destined to find it.”

“If fate allows, perhaps we’ll meet again,” Lu Chen said with a smile.

A-Yan nodded, “Thank you, boss. What should we call you?”

“Lu Chen,” he replied.

“Boss Lu, see you again if fate allows,” Zhu Jue said.

A-Yan and Jue Jue whispered to each other. With so many snacks suddenly in their hands, it would be inconvenient to walk back from the mall, so they decided to return directly to their university. Especially to the secluded path they often visited. There were no surveillance cameras there, and it was usually deserted. They could sit on a bench and wait for the evening glow.

So, they pulled open the door together, silently thinking of their university’s location. A flash of white light, and A-Yan and Zhu Jue appeared on a small path in Bin University’s campus.

After confirming that no one was around, A-Yan’s eyes sparkled, “That convenience store’s door is like a Doraemon’s Anywhere Door!”

You could go anywhere just by opening the door—it was exactly like the Anywhere Door from Doraemon!

“If Lucas had this, it would be so convenient,” A-Yan said.

If they could have an Anywhere Door like this, they could save so much on travel expenses!

It was basically teleportation! If they replaced their dorm room door with it, they could sleep in until right before class, then open the door and appear in the classroom. How convenient would that be!

“I wonder who else will enter that convenience store in the future,” Zhu Jue said.

This experience, like stumbling into an urban legend, would probably make most people think they’d encountered some kind of ghost story.

Zhu Jue checked the sunset time on his phone, and the two sat on the bench, waiting for the evening glow.

Ye Ping’an was too lazy to leave campus on the weekend. He slept until noon, played a few rounds of games in the afternoon, and only wandered out around 5 p.m. After eating at the cafeteria, he remembered he hadn’t streamed all week and was behind on his KPI.

Bin University’s campus was always his go-to spot for half-hearted streaming. Ye Ping’an often visited the same familiar places, and while his interstellar audience always complained, “Can’t you change the backdrop?” they still watched with great interest.

On this day, Ye Ping’an, as usual, held his phone and continued his silent, laid-back livestream, remaining as steady as a mountain despite the countless comments flashing before his eyes.

He had just finished dinner, and the noodles had caused his blood sugar to spike quickly. Unconsciously yawning, he took a random turn down an unfamiliar path on campus.

Although the path wasn’t familiar, it didn’t matter. After all, he was still on campus, and he’d eventually find his way out.

However, the interstellar audience was buzzing with excitement.

[New set! They finally finished building this path, and the host is showing it to us.]

[It’s hard to imagine how much investment and expertise went into restoring this.]

As he walked, Ye Ping’an noticed someone ahead on the path. The evening glow was perfect, unobstructed by the trees, and from a distance, he could see the person on the bench holding something above their head.

He couldn’t make out what it was, but the sharp-eyed viewers in the livestream instantly spotted it.

[A Mistglow Fruit! That person is using natural twilight to enhance it, hahaha! Host, you’ve been exposed! Finally, the day has come!]

[I knew this was a set! Some people were saying it was a show by the Time-Space Bureau, but come on, how could Mistglow Fruits exist on Ancient Blue Star? That’s a specialty of Mistglow Planet!]

[Big exposure! Not only is there a Mistglow Fruit, but that girl is holding a Galaxy Cup—she’s opening a planet! How is there a Galaxy Cup here? Hahaha, host, your extras messed up! How could Ancient Blue Star have snacks from our time? Galaxy Cups haven’t even been around for a hundred years!]

[The set wasn’t ready, and now the host walked in, ruining the atmosphere they worked so hard to build! Ugh!]

Reading the comments, Ye Ping’an was completely baffled.

What the heck? Exposure? Galaxy Cups? Mistglow Fruits? Are these viewers talking about what’s in front of… Holy crap!

That’s his roommate Zhu Jue and his girlfriend A-Yan!

Ye Ping’an immediately turned around. The couple was facing the evening glow, completely unaware of Ye Ping’an, who was still some distance behind them.

Ye Ping’an quickened his pace, heading back the way he came, while the interstellar livestream chat exploded with laughter.

[This is too funny! Who would’ve thought it’d be exposed like this? So even the extras on the set like Galaxy Cups, huh?]

[This can’t be an ad for Galaxy Cups and Mistglow Fruits, right?]

Ye Ping’an’s heart was pounding. According to these viewers, what Zhu Jue and A-Yan were holding were interstellar snacks?

How could that be?

Wait… could it be that they… have something to do with the interstellar world?

***

Chapter 48

Yan and Zhu Jue were completely unaware that a haloed figure had once appeared behind them as their roommate.

At the moment, the two were standing under the evening glow, carefully observing the behavior of the Twilight Mist Fruit.

“Jue Jue, it’s really changing!” Yan widened her eyes as she watched the fruit. Originally, its surface had been shrouded in a mist-like haze, but as Zhu Jue lifted the fruit box into the glow of the setting sun, the round little fruit began to transform bit by bit.

It was like… a gradient palette—the mist gradually dissipated, replaced by layers of shifting hues, its skin continuously altering under the shifting colors of the twilight.

The shopkeeper at the Interdimensional Convenience Store had been telling the truth.

Who knew such a magical fruit existed in the world? Though, at this moment, whether it had even sprouted on that distant planet—who knew how many light-years away from Earth—was still a mystery.

“The wonders of nature’s ecosystems are truly incredible.” Yan couldn’t even bring herself to blink, mesmerized by how the Twilight Mist Fruit transformed every second before her eyes.

“We forgot to ask the shopkeeper how long the fruit needs to be exposed to the twilight,” Zhu Jue remarked.

Just how much exposure counted as “ripe enough to eat”?

Yan also regretted it—they had been so caught up in the novelty that they completely overlooked this detail.

After a moment’s thought, she said, “To be safe, let’s leave it out a little longer. Jue Jue, let me hold it for a while.”

She reached out, offering her galaxy-patterned cup in exchange. Zhu Jue had been holding the box of Twilight Mist Fruit up high for quite some time now, and keeping it angled to catch the fading light was tiring.

Yan cradled the box in her hands, watching as the twilight seemed to pass right through her fingers. The fruit’s skin shifted between deep and light tones, its colors melting into a dreamy, ever-changing gradient. It looked less like something edible and more like an exquisite piece of art.

“So beautiful…” Yan held the box up, letting Zhu Jue snap a few photos with her phone. The fruit would be gone once eaten, so preserving a bit of its beauty was worth it.

The Twilight Mist Fruit was about the size of an Earth orange, but unlike oranges, it didn’t need peeling—it could be eaten whole.

Yet, there was no faucet nearby. Yan hesitated again. “Jue Jue, if we rinse it, will the colors wash off?”

They knew nothing about the habits of alien fruit!

Luckily, the skies were kind today—flaming clouds stretched across the horizon, and when Zhu Jue took the fruit back, its skin had grown even more vibrant.

Since the fruit was perfectly round, Yan mused, “It looks like a tiny planet covered in sunset clouds.”

“If we posted a photo, people would probably think it’s some kind of decorative art piece. I bet tons of people would want to buy it.”

By now, she was almost reluctant to eat it. Something this beautiful would brighten any room just by sitting on a table.

“What a shame we only stumbled upon that Interdimensional Convenience Store once. Otherwise, we could’ve asked the shopkeeper how to preserve the Twilight Mist Fruit—if it could be turned into a specimen,” Yan sighed.

Mostly, they didn’t understand the exact mechanism behind how the fruit absorbed twilight. Would it retain this stunning visual effect if preserved?

At this moment, countless questions about the Twilight Mist Fruit swirled in Yan’s mind, but there was no one left to answer them.

A place as extraordinary as the Interdimensional Convenience Store was something most people would never set foot in, not even once in their lifetime.

Yan and Zhu Jue had been lucky enough to stumble upon it by chance. Though they only bought snacks, they were more than satisfied.

After all, contentment was the key to happiness in life!

The two of them held the Twilight Mist Fruit under the glow for nearly half an hour, until the deepening colors of the flaming clouds caused the fruit’s transformations to slow.

Finally, Yan and Zhu Jue returned to the bench, sitting under the crimson-streaked sky. They exchanged a glance.

Yan nodded firmly. “Jue Jue, let’s try it.”

Her arms were sore from holding it up for so long. She just hoped the fruit wouldn’t taste terrible.

Not wanting to ruin its perfect form, they didn’t split it. Instead, Yan pulled a tissue from her pocket and wrapped it around the fruit.

Then she froze—another serious thought struck her.

The physiology of interstellar beings was probably different from theirs. As a “primitive” from ancient Earth, would eating this cause any issues?

After some consideration, Yan decided it was probably like ancient humans eating modern hybridized fruits and vegetables. Surely it wouldn’t be a problem… right?

With a decisive breath, she threw caution to the wind. A little dirt never hurt anyone. She took a bite.

“Huh? It’s crispy,” Yan mumbled through her chewing.

She had taken a small bite, skin and flesh together, enough to reveal the fruit’s inner color. Then she held it up to Zhu Jue’s lips.

Zhu Jue took a bite from her hand, her clear eyes widening slightly.

The texture was… fascinating.

“The flesh is tangerine-red, just like the sunset,” Yan observed, examining the part they had nibbled on.

The initial bite was crisp, like a fresh apple, with sweet juice spilling out.

The flesh of the fruit wasn’t soft and mushy but rather had a flowing texture—like wind, like mist—dissolving the moment it entered the mouth. It was magical.

Not only was it not unpleasant to eat, each bite offered a strangely delightful sensation. A faint sweetness spread across the palate, and the more they ate, the more addictive it became.

The two of them took turns finishing the Mistglow Fruit, which had no pit at all.

“How amazing. There’s not even a seed—has the future evolved to this point already?” Yan, who had a bit of a lazy streak, hated peeling fruit and dealing with pits. Anything she could eat straight away was perfect.

“It’s hard to imagine how this fruit even grows.” Yan and Zhu Jue leaned against each other, pondering for a moment before giving up. They’d leave that mystery for someone else to solve.

Having eaten one Mistglow Fruit to tide them over, they had bought two in total. The other one was reserved for absorbing the morning mist, just to see if it made any difference.

Yan then used a straw to open her Galaxy Cup, inserting the dark green bamboo tube inside.

Yan: “…”

Back at the interdimensional convenience store, she had watched as the shopkeeper, Lu Chen, opened six miniature planets in his cup. Hers, however, only had four.

Had she gotten the most basic version?

Casually sticking the straw into one of the tiny planets, she took a sip.

Her eyes instantly lit up. “This is so good, Zhu Jue! Try it!”

Zhu Jue took a sip and thought for a moment. “It tastes like a blend of tropical fruits.”

Yan nodded eagerly. “It’s a bit sweet, but the balance of sour and sweet is just perfect.”

The four planets Yan had uncovered each held something different: one had a texture like chilled jelly or agar, another was a sea salt-flavored gelatin, and the third contained some kind of juice—first sour, then bitter, but with a lingering sweetness afterward. When she tasted that one, Yan’s face twisted in reaction.

After finishing the Mistglow Fruit and the Galaxy Cup on the path, the snacks didn’t seem like much, but they were surprisingly filling.

Having polished off two treats already, Yan pulled out a chocolate-flavored nutrient pack but hesitated. Best to save it for when they really needed it.

Today, their taste buds had already been thoroughly bombarded by interstellar snacks. It wouldn’t do to finish everything at once—better to leave something to look forward to.

After all… once these interstellar snacks were gone, there’d be no way to get more.

“I probably won’t be hungry for dinner,” Yan mused, patting her stomach. She had no idea how calorie-dense these snacks were, but for now, dinner seemed unnecessary.

Yan and Zhu Jue had lingered on the path for quite a while, from waiting for the sunset until the sky darkened, before finally packing up and heading back to the dorm.

“Zhu Jue, I’ll keep the stuff with me,” Yan said after a moment’s thought.

Zhu Jue nodded. “Even if we don’t know whether this ‘interstellar’ is the same as that one, it’s better to be cautious.”

After all, Ye Ping’an was a halo-bearer who possessed the “Interstellar Livestream.” To this day, Yan and Zhu Jue still couldn’t be sure if he was capable of obtaining anything from the interstellar realm.

Yan carried the bag back to the dorm. Since these snacks couldn’t exactly be shown off, she had no choice but to stash them in her closet.

Luckily, she was the only one in the room at the moment—her roommates were all out, sparing her the trouble of hiding things like a thief.

After shopping and watching a movie with Zhu Jue, spending a long time in the interdimensional convenience store, and then lingering outside on campus for nearly two hours, Yan took advantage of her roommates’ absence to enjoy a leisurely solo shower.

Just as she was blow-drying her hair, Yi Zhi walked in, looking exhausted.

“You’re back,” Yan said, fingers combing quickly through her hair.

“Yeah.” Yi Zhi sank into her chair with a long exhale.

Another day of picking, packing, and shipping—she’d been buried in work inside her space for hours.

It was seriously exhausting!

By now, Yan’s hair was about 80% dry. As she bent her head to brush it out, the high-powered hairdryer blew a gust of air toward the floor, stirring up a patch of dark soil.

“There’s dirt on the floor. Yi Zhi, you look so tired—don’t tell me you spent the whole day in the experimental fields?” Yan remarked offhandedly.

Yi Zhi: What?

She glanced at the soles of her shoes. Oh no. She’d forgotten to change them when she first entered her space and had walked around for a bit before switching to work shoes. She must have tracked some of the space’s soil out without realizing it.

Was Yan mentioning the experimental fields to test her?

Instantly on high alert, Yi Zhi scrambled for a response until she remembered the flower market she’d visited the previous week.

“I went to a chrysanthemum nursery. They have specially treated soil there—I must have stepped in it without noticing,” she said.

“Looking at chrysanthemums again? I thought you were busy with the fruit thing. You’ve been so elusive this week.”

The fruit thing… Did Yan already know the fruit was hers?

Yi Zhi’s pupils contracted. Was this another probe?

She didn’t outright reject the idea but vaguely replied, “It’s been busy. There are too many orders. We have to coordinate with the family about harvesting, ripeness, and logistics, especially since these are guests from Chu Shen’s side—we can’t afford to lose face.”

Yan let out an “Oh.” She had only asked casually, but upon hearing Yi Zhi’s response, she couldn’t help offering a suggestion.

“For fruit deliveries, SF Express is better. If the destination isn’t too far from Bin City, it can arrive the next day. It’s also convenient for our own purchases.”

Once her hair was dry, Yan cleaned up the fallen strands, applied some oil, and sat at her desk to watch videos.

She occasionally chuckled softly while watching, but Yi Zhi, who had her back turned, felt anything but calm.

Earlier, Yan’s questions had felt like a relentless barrage, leaving Yi Zhi dizzy and overwhelmed.

On the surface, Yan had seemed to speak offhandedly, never pressing further before switching to another topic.

Yet every casual question struck right at Yi Zhi’s weak points, making her heart race each time.

With only the two of them in the dorm, Yi Zhi quickly showered and cleaned her shoes. When she stepped out of the bathroom, her sharp ears caught the sound of Yan’s video playing aloud.

“Plant mutations are often related to their environment…”

Yi Zhi: !

Ears perked up.jpg

Why was Yan suddenly watching something like this? Normally, she only browsed celebrity gossip, travel vlogs, or mukbang unboxing videos.

Yi Zhi feigned nonchalance as she asked, “What’s this about plant mutations? Since when did you get into this, Yan?”

Seeing her emerge, Yan paused the educational video.

Truthfully, she had been curious about how the Mistglow Fruit grew and had simply searched terms like “strange fruits,” “Earth plants,” and “unique flora” on Bilibili to see if there were any unusual fruits on Earth.

But she obviously couldn’t say that to Yi Zhi. Instead, she offered a white lie: “Just random browsing. It popped up on my homepage, so I clicked on it.”

Yi Zhi let out an “Oh.” Though she appeared indifferent, her mind raced with speculation.

Is Yan testing me? Black soil, fruits, plant mutations…

It’s like she’s dancing all over my secrets!

Yi Zhi refused to believe Yan was clueless. Looking back, every word Yan had said felt like a deliberate hint.

“Yi Zhi, do you think we’ll ever have seedless mangoes, jackfruit, or durians with full chambers—fruit without pits or peels?” Yan suddenly asked.

She wondered what fruits and plants were like in the post-apocalyptic era Yi Zhi had come from.

Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Yi Zhi paused before answering thoughtfully, “Plant mutations adapt to their environment.”

“From a survival standpoint, traits like seedlessness are more of a human desire for convenience. For the fruit itself, it’s biologically altruistic—no seeds mean no reproduction. Under normal circumstances, I don’t think it would naturally occur.”

She answered seriously. Even in the apocalypse, plants evolved toward aggression and survival, not self-sacrifice for human appetites.

Yan’s question had come out of nowhere, almost as if she were steering the conversation elsewhere entirely.

“I see.” Yan seemed deep in thought before posing another question.

“Then, do you think there could ever be… fruits that change flavor based on weather? Like tasting different during rain, smog, or wind?”

Given current agricultural technology, Yan doubted she’d live to see such a thing.

The question left Yi Zhi stunned once more.

As she debated whether to cautiously reveal a little to Yan, the dorm door swung open—Ding Ling had returned. Yi Zhi immediately fell silent.

An hour earlier, Ye Ping’an, still shaken, had retreated to another path, his eyes glued to the barrage of comments on his phone.

[Speaking of Mistglow Fruit, this year’s yield dropped again, right? They’re so expensive now. Most people buy them as gifts rather than for eating—‘Love her? Gift her Mistglow Fruit, share the sunset’s sweetness.’]

[Exactly! The price is inflated by those marketing gimmicks. Out here in the remote star systems, Mistglow Fruit couple tours are all the rage… ‘Chasing the mist together.’]

[So, host, which planet is this ‘Ancient Earth Restoration’ built on? Forget the infrastructure—how did you even find so many pureblood humans?]

[The host won’t answer. Give it up.]

[What if… this is actually a lost branch of Ancient Earth? Maybe they migrated and survived in some unknown star system. That’s the only way to explain the accuracy of this restoration!]

The viewers in the interstellar livestream had once again begun their daily speculation about the streamer’s background. Now, with the appearance of “Mistglow Fruits” and “Galaxy Cups,” their imaginations had grown even wilder—some even suggesting he was a descendant of the lost Blue Planet.

As usual, Ye Ping’an remained silent. The camera wasn’t pointed at him, so the audience couldn’t see the baffled expression on his face. In the past, his greatest joy during streams had been watching these star-faring folks, so utterly unfamiliar with his world, marvel at everything and spin bizarre, outrageous theories about him.

But now, Ye Ping’an was thoroughly unsettled. The viewers had mistaken Zhu Jue and Yan for actors in his setup, laughing at the “bloopers” and poorly constructed set.

Yet, in this livestream with hundreds of thousands of interstellar viewers, only he knew the truth: This was the Blue Planet—the ancestral homeworld, the cradle of civilization they spoke of in awe.

Which raised the question: Why were futuristic interstellar snacks in the hands of his roommate and his girlfriend?

Ye Ping’an walked quietly through the campus, his mind racing through a storm of possibilities. He scanned the barrage of comments, gleaning whatever clues he could. He couldn’t ask outright, but fortunately, as new viewers flooded the stream, older ones stepped in to explain.

[It’s really a Galaxy Cup—the same ones we played with as kids. I saw that girl holding one, and the guy was using the twilight glow to speed up the ripening of those Mistglow Fruits!]

[Great news! We can confirm the streamer’s replica planet has twilight skies!]

[Hey, what’s the most spheres you’ve ever gotten from a Galaxy Cup? I heard someone once pulled seven! Back in the day, they even had grand prize blind boxes every year.]

[These two actors are total immersion-breakers. You can tell from how fast the streamer walked away—he’s pissed, and things are about to get serious.]

Reading this, Ye Ping’an nearly choked. Pissed? How could he be pissed when he didn’t even know who these two were?

His interstellar livestream system had strict rules—any tips or gifts from the future couldn’t be exchanged for advanced tech, lest it trigger a butterfly effect. So why did Zhu Jue and Yan have access to futuristic snacks?

His grip tightened unconsciously on the selfie stick. Were they also connected to the interstellar world?

Had aliens landed on Blue Planet? Or were they time-travelers who’d brought these items themselves?

The thought made his face twist in disbelief. But then again, Zhu Jue had never acted suspiciously in their daily interactions. If the two had accidentally stumbled upon the Mistglow Fruits and Galaxy Cups, they wouldn’t have known to expose them to twilight—Ye Ping’an had seen the comments explaining that Mistglow Fruits required twilight to ripen. This was clearly an alien fruit, with habits and a name no one on Blue Planet would know.

So… were they interstellar beings after all?

Circling back, Ye Ping’an retraced his interactions with Zhu Jue, searching for any overlooked clues. Since they were in different majors and Zhu Jue was the textbook definition of a love-struck college kid—either in class or glued to his girlfriend—their dorm interactions had been perfectly ordinary: grabbing meals, gaming together.

He seemed like any other regular student!

…Wait. Something clicked.

Zhu Jue was the only roommate who’d never asked about his livestream. Lin Fan had asked about his username. Xiao Qingnang often peeked at his streaming phone. Yuan Ye had asked if he’d signed with a guild. Chu Shen had inquired about his content niche.

But Zhu Jue? Nothing. No questions, no curiosity—as if it didn’t exist to him. Most people would at least glance over when someone was streaming. Not him. Zhu Jue acted like he had zero interest.

Ye Ping’an had initially chalked it up to his roommate respecting boundaries, minding his own business. But what if… Zhu Jue already knew what his livestream was?

What if he avoided interfering because he knew? Every time Ye Ping’an announced he was going live, Zhu Jue never lingered—immediately dragging Xiao Qingnang or Yuan Ye away, as if afraid to waste even a second of his stream time.

He never hovered, never peeked at the phone. Instead, he’d put literal distance between them the moment the stream started. That one time… when Lin Fan’s family had treated them to a meal, Ye Ping’an had turned on his stream afterward in the market. The closest people to him then had been the lovebirds.

Yan had glanced back at him once before turning away. At the time, Ye Ping’an hadn’t thought much of it. But now, looking back—had that glance been to confirm whether he was streaming?

Were these two… monitors from his livestream platform? Assigned to keep tabs on him locally?

Ye Ping’an suddenly recalled that back when he was slacking off after obtaining the system, it had warned him—if he kept delaying the start of his livestream, spacetime inspectors would appear to strip the system away and unbind it, collecting temporal data or something along those lines.

His viewer rewards couldn’t be exchanged for anything of ultra-modern technological value, but he’d never thought to try trading them for “snacks” before. Now, it occurred to him that cross-temporal delivery might not be impossible. Such a thing probably wouldn’t cost much energy.

If that were the case… could Zhu Jue and Yan actually be interstellar inspectors quietly stationed on Blue Earth?

***

Chapter 49

It was a new week, and aside from the unexpected visit to Boss Lu Chen’s dimensional convenience store over the weekend, Yan and Zhu Jue’s daily life had been quite peaceful.

Midweek, Yan received news from the jade shop in the antique street. The custom-made jade ring face, bracelet, and pendant she had ordered last month at Boss Xu’s store, using the emerald she had luckily picked up from Yi Zhi, were finally ready.

Nearly a month had passed, and during this time, Yan had communicated several times with the craftsmen at Boss Xu’s jade shop regarding the design and progress of each piece. Now, the finished products were finally here!

Though she had only kept the ring face for herself and Zhu Jue, Yan was still thrilled. After all, she had been looking forward to these new pieces for a long time, and they felt like a free gift.

To try on the jewelry, Yan dressed in a traditional Chinese-style outfit today—a long-sleeved cross-collar top paired with a pleated skirt. Her hair was simply adorned with a hairpin and artificial flowers, giving her a graceful and elegant appearance that complemented the classical architecture of the antique street.

Yan and Zhu Jue first stopped by Uncle Pan’s place, then greeted Boss Tu at his shop to see if there were any new items. Unexpectedly, Boss Tu insisted they stay.

“Yan, Zhu Jue, come on, don’t leave yet. Stay and chat with me for a bit.”

Perhaps because his feng shui shop rarely saw young visitors, Boss Tu was eager to keep the two of them around. Since they had nothing urgent to do and weren’t in a hurry to pick up their items, they decided to stay and have some tea.

“You two have no idea,” Boss Tu said excitedly.

“Boss Xu hit the jackpot last month! A huge one!”

“Ever since that day you two came by and that handsome guy unearthed the imperial green and chicken-fat yellow jade, Boss Xu’s shop has been packed from morning till night.”

“Especially during the National Day holiday, so many young people came to check it out. They didn’t know anything about jade but still picked stones to cut, just for the experience.”

“What would you call Boss Xu’s luck? He imported truckloads of raw stones, only for someone else to pick out the top-grade jade. But Xu’s Jade Store’s reputation has skyrocketed. There are other jade shops on this street, but during the holiday, people were lining up outside his store.”

“I checked on that app you young people use, Xiaohongshu. If you search for Bin City’s antique street, Xu’s Jade Store is a must-visit spot.”

Boss Tu spoke with envy, though he knew it was pointless to compare. Their businesses were fundamentally different—his shop catered mainly to insiders or wealthy clients.

Yan and Zhu Jue were stunned by his words. It sounded exaggerated, but thinking about it, even though Boss Xu lost the imperial green and chicken-fat yellow jade, he gained long-term benefits.

Having once uncovered jade worth hundreds of millions, Boss Xu now had the best advertisement for his store. Over the past month, he must have made a fortune, quietly raking in profits day after day.

Now that’s what you call a big win! Yan couldn’t help but feel a little envious, though she was already quite content with her own gains.

“That handsome guy hasn’t been seen since. He probably left Bin City already, maybe even went abroad. He’ll likely lay low for a while before coming back,” Boss Tu remarked.

Yan thought to herself, That “handsome guy” isn’t a guy at all, and she hasn’t left Bin City.

Still, Yan couldn’t help but admire Yi Zhi’s self-control.

Earning a hundred million in a single day—it was clear that her ability allowed her to detect valuable stones. With such a skill, she could easily continue making a fortune.

Even if she were cautious, she could still visit other jade shops across the country, cutting less extraordinary stones like ice jade or glutinous jade, which would still attract attention. Most people would take advantage of such an opportunity, traveling to various gambling stone hotspots and making billions without a problem.

But Yi Zhi had both combat skills and exceptional disguising abilities, yet she stopped after just one big score.

For most people in the world, a hundred million is an unimaginable sum, but human greed knows no bounds. Being able to curb that greed so decisively is truly remarkable.

Yan also guessed that Yi Zhi had been busy lately selling fruits, running around nonstop. While the high-end fruit business must be profitable, it paled in comparison to the astronomical profits from gambling on jade.

Yet Yi Zhi chose to earn her money the hard way, refusing to continue gambling for quick riches.

Every morning, rain or shine, she exercised diligently. She had the discipline to resist greed and the determination to work hard. Even setting aside Yi Zhi’s identity as a post-apocalyptic superhuman, Yan deeply admired her roommate.

What a cool girl! Boss Tu continued gossiping about recent bargains in the antique street and how some tourists were scammed during the National Day holiday, leading to fights with vendors…

Yan and Zhu Jue sipped tea and snacked on pastries, listening to the stream of gossip. Just as Boss Tu was talking about how one shop got swindled, he suddenly received a phone call and hurriedly stood up.

“Hey, you two, mind watching the shop for me? I need to step out for a bit. If any customers come, just have them wait. They’re all regulars anyway.”

Boss Tu grabbed his phone and rushed off, leaving Yan and Zhu Jue bewildered.

“Wait, we’ve only met Boss Tu twice. Isn’t he being a little too trusting?” Yan said, her lips twitching.

How had they suddenly become shopkeepers?

Zhu Jue chuckled. “It’s because we look harmless. We’re not insiders, so he feels safe leaving us here.”

The items in Boss Tu’s shop—various feng shui talismans, copper coin swords, peach wood swords, and Taishan stones—might not seem like much, but their combined value was likely astronomical.

After finishing over a dozen rounds of tea, it was almost noon, and there was no sign of Boss Tu returning. Yan and Zhu Jue sat at the tea table and started browsing food delivery options.

“Let’s get some iced lemon tea! And maybe some pastries like salted egg yolk puffs. If we can’t finish them, we can leave them for Boss Tu as tea snacks,” Yan said, quickly placing an order with a discount coupon. She chose a nearby shop in the antique street, and the food arrived shortly after. With only the two of them in the shop, Yan and Zhu Jue leaned in close, whispering to each other.

“I feel like Ye Ping’an has been secretly watching me lately,” Zhu Jue said, frowning slightly.

But he couldn’t figure out why Ye Ping’an’s gaze kept lingering on him. Zhu Jue was holding the cup of lemon tea with both hands, warming it up. Yan liked lemon tea, but she found it too cold with ice, which could upset her stomach. So, every time, Zhu Jue would either time it perfectly or manually check the temperature, making sure it was just right—cool but not cold—before giving it to her. Yan rested her chin in her hands, deep in thought, but couldn’t come up with an explanation.

“The snacks are all in my room. He shouldn’t have noticed anything,” she said, furrowing her brow.

“Could it be something in the dorm? Maybe Ye Ping’an has something to say but feels too shy to bring it up?”

But Zhu Jue had good habits—no sleepwalking or talking in his sleep—so it probably wasn’t that.

Zhu Jue shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

He got along well with the five other guys in the dorm, though he was closer to Xiao Qingnang and Lin Fan. Mr. Xiao was very diligent in his studies. The two of them were in the same major and class, attending lectures and securing seats together every day. Occasionally, he would borrow notes from Xiao Qingnang, whose handwriting was exceptionally beautiful.

Lin Fan, on the other hand, was a straightforward man with no experience in love or marriage, having come from a military background. He often sought advice from Zhu Jue on how to please his partner, and the two would discuss strategies together.

After the previous misunderstanding with Chu Shen and with fried rice as a peace offering, Zhu Jue and Chu Shen had developed a good relationship. As for Yuan Ye, although it was unclear what he had been thinking during the last comic convention, he occasionally gave Zhu Jue strange looks.

To be honest, apart from their time in the dormitory, Zhu Jue and Ye Ping’an rarely spent time together outside. Moreover, because Ye Ping’an was often live-streaming, Zhu Jue always made sure to avoid disturbing him. This left both Yan and Zhu Jue puzzled as to why Ye Ping’an had taken an interest in him.

“Forget it, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. There’s no conflict, so it’s probably not a big deal. Maybe he’ll bring it up himself someday,” Yan said.

Zhu Jue nodded. Since they couldn’t figure out the reason now, they had no choice but to let it be. After Zhu Jue manually tested the temperature of the lemon tea with his hand, Yan waited a while before drinking it at the perfect warmth. Bored in the shop, after going through the items in Boss Tu’s store three times, neither of them dared to touch anything, fearing they might accidentally disrupt some feng shui arrangement. Boss Tu still hadn’t returned, so Yan connected to the store’s Wi-Fi and was pleasantly surprised.

“Ka Ka has uploaded new videos, two of them!”

Indeed, another two weeks had passed, and Travel Ka Ka had updated again!

[Travel Ka Ka]: [Searching for Haji Tala in Inner Mongolia, I stumbled into a traditional Mongolian wedding and ended up giving a speech?]

“This must be where Ka Ka went last week,” Yan said, blinking. She had thought Ka Ka would just post some old footage.

Ka Ka’s update meant she had likely finished another trip and was back home editing her videos. A Mongolian wedding? And Ka Ka even gave a speech? Yan couldn’t wait to see what had happened.

The video began with the usual adorable animated opening, showing Ka Ka traveling by various means of transportation. This time, the final leg of the journey featured Ka Ka riding a jeep across the grasslands. The grasslands were vast, with one family’s pastureland separated from another’s by hundreds of miles. Ka Ka’s destination, Haji Tala, was particularly remote.

“Tala” means “grassland” in Mongolian and is a common place name, which made Ka Ka’s journey even more challenging.

Whenever Ka Ka asked for directions to “Haji Tala,” locals would point to the nearest “Tala” they knew. Ka Ka had to keep finding rides, hitching rides, and borrowing rides, slowly making her way to the location marked on the map. The bottom corner of the video displayed a miniature map showing Ka Ka’s changing modes of transportation. Despite encountering many kind people, her journey to the final destination was far from smooth.

When Ka Ka arrived at a certain banner town, the area was well-developed and convenient. However, the weather on the grasslands in mid-October was unpredictable.

One moment, the sky was clear with white clouds, and the next, it was pouring rain. The autumn scenery, with its yellow grass and red leaves, was beautiful, showcasing the unique charm of the grasslands in fall. Ka Ka’s journey to Haji Tala was delayed by two days due to the weather. Many people she asked about this obscure Tala, which had no historical significance or fame, simply shook their heads. The video captured Ka Ka’s frustration vividly.

The mood indicator in the bottom left corner showed a slightly disheartened Ka Ka.

“The grasslands are too vast. Even locals find it hard to navigate, let alone Ka Ka. Some elders only speak Mongolian,” Yan remarked while watching the video.

Being in an unfamiliar place, unable to find her destination, and with the weather against her, it was easy to feel down. Ka Ka, with her unique travel system, managed to persevere. Anyone else might have given up and gone home.

“The autumn grasslands are beautiful. Maybe we can drive there someday. Preferably with a local private tour,” Zhu Jue had other thoughts.

The two continued watching. After being stranded for two days due to the weather, the third day finally brought clear skies.

The drone footage captured the blue sky and large, fluffy white clouds, resembling a painting. As a foreign girl who didn’t speak Mongolian, Ka Ka stood out. Despite learning a few basic phrases like “hello,” “thank you,” “goodbye,” and “how much,” her appearance and accent made her a local curiosity.

Having been stranded for two days, she became the talk of the small town. In the video, the local innkeeper made calls on her behalf, asking around about “Haji Tala.” Locals came to chat with her, despite the language barrier. On rainy days, she sipped hot salty milk tea, ate delicious lamb, and communicated with heavily accented locals using gestures, repeatedly explaining why she had come.

[Travel Ka Ka, stranded due to weather, attracts attention. Foreigner reputation in the area +20.]

[The innkeeper spreads word of the foreigner Ka Ka, and the story quickly spreads…]

The video displayed these lines.

[Travel Ka Ka’s local reputation reaches 50, triggering hidden NPC Guo Le.]

Yan and Zhu Jue: What?

Next, they saw a burly man in traditional Mongolian robes, with dark red skin and accented Mandarin.

“I heard there’s a young girl here looking for Haji Tala.”

“That’s my third uncle’s sister-in-law’s second uncle’s pastureland.”

“His daughter is getting married, and I’m going there to help.”

Ka Ka couldn’t quite follow the family connections, but she was thrilled. She had finally found it! And it was a local who had approached her. The innkeeper assured her that Guo Le was trustworthy, a well-known pasture owner. Moreover, Guo Le was traveling with his family to visit these distant relatives. Ka Ka got into the car again, this time with Guo Le’s wife and child, which made her feel more at ease.

The miniature figure on the map started moving again. The jeep sped across the yellowing grasslands, past changing red leaves, occasional lakes, and large herds of horses. After hours of bumpy travel, Ka Ka’s phone signal never dropped below three bars. They even passed by vast wind farms, the turbines an impressive sight.

This was her first time venturing so deep into the grasslands. Guo Le explained that a large family’s pastureland could be as big as a city district. They finally arrived at Haji Tala. Thanks to Guo Le’s phone call, the relatives helping with the wedding already knew about the young girl who had traveled so far just to visit Haji Tala. Ka Ka was presented with a hada (ceremonial scarf) the moment she stepped out of the car and was warmly welcomed into the yurt.

“Why did you come to Hajitara?” a local man asked in accented Mandarin.

“It’s just grass. It’s turned yellow, nothing much to see. I’ve seen it all my life,” he added.

“I just wanted to come and see,” Ka Ka replied.

“I saw this place on the map, so I decided to visit.”

“No one comes here for tourism. You’re the first, truly the first,” they said, giving her a thumbs-up and smiling with a mix of confusion and respect.

Ka Ka was invited to wear Sister Guo Le’s Mongolian robe and, amidst laughter, enjoyed a meal of mutton. It was Ka Ka’s first time riding a horse, her first time using a dagger to slice meat, her first time making salty milk tea, and her first time staying in a yurt.

Hajitara was the pastureland of Guo Le’s relatives. There were no other households within a hundred miles, let alone hotels or inns. The relatives had brought their yurts to prepare for the wedding of the bride, Bao Yin. The yurt serving as the kitchen was bustling non-stop. Ka Ka attended a traditional ethnic wedding she had never seen before. As a special witness from afar, she was included in one of the ceremonies, stumbling slightly as she recited her lines.

[Congratulations, Traveler Ka Ka, as a stranger, you have become a special NPC witnessing the union of the newlyweds.]

[Traveler Ka Ka’s local reputation +50.]

The video’s bullet comments were flooded with messages like “Long-lasting love,” “A hundred years of happiness,” and “A distant NPC witnessing together.” Watching this, Yan couldn’t help but smile.

How wonderful. Because of this wedding feast, Ka Ka stayed in Hajitara for four days. The first night was her arrival, the second day was Bao Yin’s bridal send-off, the third day was the groom’s wedding ceremony, and the fourth day was her visit to the groom’s family as a member of the bride’s relatives, where she was treated with great hospitality.

The lively atmosphere, the singing and dancing, and the laughter everywhere made Yan wish she could join in just by watching the video.

Travel always brings such magical encounters. The elder brother from Guo Le, who had taken the initiative to find her at the inn, led Ka Ka to her destination, and she ended up participating in a full Mongolian wedding.

In the video, after the bride was fetched, the horse and vehicle procession circled Bao Yin’s family yurt three times before galloping across the vast grassland. The wedding blessings and drinking songs continued non-stop. Even though she couldn’t understand Mongolian, the screen seemed to draw her into the celebration.

The video was long. Although Ka Ka split it into two parts, the total duration was a full three hours.

In the final part of the video, since Guo Le’s elder brother hadn’t left yet, Ka Ka rode with Bao Yin’s other relatives who were attending the wedding.

The white hada around her chest fluttered, and a line of text appeared on the screen that brought a knowing smile.

[Traveler Ka Ka receives blessings from the locals, mood +20.]

In fact, Ka Ka also received a dagger as a gift, but since she couldn’t bring it back due to transportation restrictions, the dagger remained in Hajitara.

“Keep this dagger here. When you come back next time, it’ll be your personal one,” the bride Bao Yin said.

Ka Ka’s WeChat gained a string of new friends, all of whom grew up on the vast grasslands, a life vastly different from her own upbringing. She struggled to mark the locations of the bride and groom’s families on her phone. Honestly, Ka Ka wasn’t sure how packages would be delivered to such a place.

Though the address was simply a patch of grassland with a few yurts, she trusted the reliable postal service of Xia Country. Even if it meant delivering on horseback, they would surely get it there! As for the dried beef and milk slices she sent to the Extreme Racing Team, Yan, Zhu Jue, the couple, and the local families she had visited before, Ka Ka bought them in a relatively bustling town after the wedding. With a local helping her, she managed to purchase a large quantity of local specialties at local prices and sent them off.

This place was a tourist area, so Ka Ka decided to stay an extra day in a yurt to experience the difference between developed and undeveloped grasslands. Since she had learned to ride a horse in Hajitara, she could now ride the gentle, well-trained horses in the developed tourist area on her own.

She asked the accompanying horse trainer to take more photos for her. After riding for half an hour, Ka Ka thanked the trainer in Mongolian.

“I heard you came from that faraway Tara? That pasture is really far,” the trainer asked in fluent Mandarin.

Ka Ka nodded. She wasn’t surprised. When the relatives who drove her here heard she wanted to stay the night, they immediately found an acquaintance to arrange things. And the yurt owner had helped her arrange the horseback riding.

It wasn’t peak tourist season, so the area was quiet. She had been brought here by a local driver and arranged for everything. Given how well-connected the locals were, even strangers could chat for a long time. Perhaps the grasslands were too vast, and with hundreds of miles between people, even with phones, life could feel lonely. The older generation still kept their old habits, eager to chat and share news whenever they met someone.

“It’s quite far. It took almost a full day of driving.”

“I came for a wedding,” Ka Ka said.

Using the wedding as an explanation was easier, saving her the trouble of explaining her blind-box travel adventures.

“So you’re here to send off the bride? You’re part of the bride’s family?” the trainer asked.

Ka Ka paused, then laughed. “Yes, I’m part of the bride’s family.”

She had stayed with Bao Yin’s family in Hajitara for two days, followed the bride’s family to the groom’s home, and even gave a speech at the wedding.

Even though she had known this family for less than a week, how could she not be considered part of Bao Yin’s family?

Ka Ka noticed a notification from her Travel Buddy system pop up in front of her.

“Congratulations, player, for unlocking the [Chance Kinship] achievement. Keep up the good work. Would you like to equip the achievement badge?”

Chance Kinship? Ka Ka immediately checked the detailed description of the new achievement.

[Achievement: Chance Kinship]

[By chance, a wedding turned a stranger into family. You adorned their wedding, and they adorned your journey. This was supposed to be an ordinary trip, but because of all this, it became something special. In Hajitara, you’re not just a traveler from afar—you’re Bao Yin’s family. You feel the same way, don’t you?]

[Equip effect: +10 friendliness in Mongolian regions.]

Yan and Zhu Jue had unknowingly finished watching the video. This time, the ending CG featured a chibi version of Ka Ka in a Mongolian robe, drinking milk tea, eating mutton, and a simple sketch of the wedding. The chibi Ka Ka galloped across the grassland on horseback, looking cuter by the second.

After giving the video a like, comment, and share, Yan sent Ka Ka a WeChat message.

[Yan]: More videos, please! Waving the whip for updates!

Although Ka Ka’s three-hour video was long, her weekly or biweekly upload schedule just wasn’t enough. The snacks Yan and Zhu Jue had bought were almost gone, and they had restocked twice. Boss Tu still hadn’t returned. Would they have to wait until the store closed?

After sitting and watching videos for a long time, the two of them finally stood up. Yan stretched and moved around a bit in the room when she noticed a somewhat sneaky man with a backpack peeking around the entrance of the shop.

The man didn’t have a halo above his head, so Yan didn’t pay much attention. He didn’t seem like a regular customer of the shop. Perhaps he was here to consult the master for fortune-telling or feng shui adjustments, she thought, as she called Boss Tu again on her phone. Yan didn’t go out of her way to greet him. The man peeked around for a while, as if checking if there was anyone else in the shop, before finally walking in. He looked at Yan hesitantly and asked, “Where’s the adult in charge here?”

“I’ve got something here. Can you make the call on this?”

Yan’s ears perked up instantly. Huh? Huh huh huh?

This opening line… Could it be something dug up from the ground?

Boss Tu, hurry back!!!

***

Chapter 50

The man looked at Yan and could tell she wasn’t someone who could handle serious matters. He then glanced at Zhu Jue inside the room, shook his head, and turned to leave.

“The boss will be back soon. Do you want to wait a bit?” Yan asked.

Whether this person was a guest of Boss Tu or a suspicious individual, she felt it was necessary to stall him.

However, upon hearing this, the man simply slung his bag over his shoulder and walked away without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hey,” Yan reached out, but ultimately couldn’t stop him.

She made a helpless gesture toward Zhu Jue. “Let’s tell Boss Tu when he gets back. It’s not our fault.”

This guy had left his own shop unattended, and who knows what urgent matter had kept him away for so long.

Yan wasn’t worried about whether Boss Xu’s jade shop would close and prevent her from picking up her items. The antique street in Bin City, especially large shops like jade stores, stayed open until late on weekends. Ever since the street had started hosting free market activities, weekends here were always bustling with crowds.

Not long after the man left, Yan and Zhu Jue finally saw Boss Tu return after disappearing since noon.

He looked somewhat dejected, as if he had encountered some kind of setback.

Seeing the two still in the shop, Boss Tu quickly apologized, “Yan, Zhu Jue, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect to be delayed for so long.”

Yan joked, “Pay us our part-time wages on the spot. Our hourly rate is pretty high.”

She described the man who had just visited to Boss Tu, but Boss Tu didn’t seem concerned.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s probably someone who went to the countryside to buy goods or dug something up from his hometown, thinking it’s a treasure. You’ll run into people like that in any shop.”

Yan and Zhu Jue nodded.

“No other customers came by?” Boss Tu asked.

The two shook their heads. “Nope. We just watched videos all afternoon.”

“That’s normal. People usually come out to wander around on weekdays. On weekends, they’re busy spending time with their families.”

“It’s good that no one came. Saves us from waiting too long today.”

Boss Tu noticed the takeout bags near the tea table and gave an awkward smile.

“Alright, I’m about to close up, and you two haven’t eaten yet.” He took out his phone and made a quick call, speaking a few words rapidly.

“I’ve reserved a table for two at Shangwei Restaurant at the entrance of the antique street. It’s on my tab. You two go ahead and eat.”

Yan and Zhu Jue were stunned by how quickly he had arranged everything, practically shooing them off to eat as soon as he returned.

“You’re really kicking us out after using us,” Zhu Jue teased.

It was already 3 p.m. Yan and Zhu Jue first went to the jade shop to pick up the custom-made jade pendants and bracelets they had ordered.

The glutinous ice jade, though not as transparent as pure ice jade, was still incredibly beautiful in their hands.

Yan tried on the bracelets they had ordered for their mothers. Her wrists were slender, so the bracelets were slightly loose and slid up her arm.

Her delicate, snow-white wrists made the translucent jade bracelets appear even more striking against her fair skin.

The two sets of jade pendants and bracelets were carefully packed into gift boxes. After confirming everything was in order, Yan officially signed her name on the receipt.

Yan had chosen rings for herself and Zhu Jue. The jade ring faces were from the same stone—Zhu Jue’s was a square design, while Yan’s was teardrop-shaped with additional diamond accents.

Since she often typed on a keyboard and took handwritten notes in class, Yan hadn’t opted for a bracelet. She was a bit clumsy and feared she might accidentally chip or break a jade bracelet, which would break her heart.

But a small ring was no trouble at all—lightweight and elegant on her finger.

They also had leftover jade material made into small peace knots, strung on red cords, which could be given as gifts.

Yan looked at the peace knots in the box and thought, “Maybe we should have these peace knots blessed before giving them away. The jade pendant for the car should also be blessed.”

Boss Tu had connections for such things. They could send them over during a Buddhist ceremony or arrange a private blessing ritual.

Ensuring safety and peace… Yan felt this was very important for them. After picking up their items from the VIP room, they stepped out to see the raw jade area packed with people. The spot where they had previously cut jade with Yi Zhi was also crowded. It seemed that due to the high number of customers, two more machines had been added to accommodate the demand. But the line at the old master’s station was still the longest.

“Why aren’t you lining up over there? It’s much emptier,” someone passing by asked.

“I heard that’s a new station. This master is the one who cut out the imperial green jade. He’s got good luck—we’re here to soak up some of that fortune,” a young man pulling a cart of raw jade said, sounding superstitious.

“Is that really a thing? Wasn’t it just that handsome guy’s good luck?” a passerby shook their head.

Yan and Zhu Jue quietly walked past. There were so many people!

Just as Boss Tu had described, the raw jade area was filled with young people, their faces alight with excitement and curiosity. Some brought small flashlights, while others used their phone flashlights to inspect the jade. Nearby, middle-aged men shook their heads disapprovingly.

As they passed, they even saw someone looking up “how to identify raw jade” on their phone, watching tutorial videos on the spot.

It was truly a case of learning on the fly, with everyone joining in the fun.

A month had passed, and Boss Xu’s jade shop was still this lively.

After leaving Boss Xu’s shop, Yan and Zhu Jue headed to Shangwei Restaurant, where Boss Tu had reserved a table for them. This restaurant had a history of over a hundred years and was a genuine century-old establishment.

The last time Yan and Zhu Jue had visited the antique street, they had searched for this place but were discouraged by the waiting list of over a hundred tables. This time, thanks to Boss Tu, they didn’t hold back. After all, they had genuinely spent the entire afternoon minding the shop!

They were seated at a cozy booth in the elegantly decorated restaurant. The staff wore traditional attire, spoke softly, and attended to every detail with care. Boss Tu seemed worried they might feel restrained, so he had already arranged a set menu over the phone. All Yan and Zhu Jue had to do was sit and wait.

They were seated by a latticed window on the second floor, facing each other. Turning their heads slightly, they could see the bustling crowd below. The staff informed them that since the dishes were made to order, even though Boss Tu had called ahead, it would still take about twenty minutes for the food to arrive.

Yan and Zhu Jue weren’t in a hurry. Yan thanked the server for the complimentary snacks and then happily pulled out the two ring boxes from her bag. She wanted to wear them a little longer and take some nice photos while the restaurant’s ambiance was perfect. The ring boxes were of a classic design, exuding elegance and sophistication. Yan placed the two boxes side by side and took a photo. Her eyes curved into a smile as she reached out to Zhu Jue.

“Hand model, lend me your hand.”

Zhu Jue, sitting across from her, smiled and obediently extended his left hand.

His hand was large, with long, slender fingers and well-defined knuckles. His nails were neatly trimmed. Yan placed her right hand beneath his, their palms touching. A warm sensation spread from their fingertips to their palms.

She took off Zhu Jue’s ring and asked with a serious expression, “Zhu Jue, are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Zhu Jue said softly, gazing at her.

“Hmph,” Yan snorted, slipping the ring onto Zhu Jue’s left ring finger.

“Now that you’re wearing my ring, you’re mine.”

Before Yan could withdraw her hand, Zhu Jue had already reached out with her right hand, taken Yan’s ring, and placed it on Yan’s left ring finger. The two sat facing each other, holding hands, their eyes filled with nothing but each other, smiling like fools.

“Our rings are so beautiful,” Yan said, beaming.

“Absolutely stunning,” Zhu Jue replied with a smile.

In the East, it’s customary for men to wear rings on their left hand and women on their right, while in the West, both wear them on the left, as it’s closer to the heart. Yan and Zhu Jue wore theirs on the left simply because they were both right-handed, making it more convenient for daily tasks. Lost in their own world, they didn’t notice the waitress assigned to their table, who had watched the entire scene from a distance, wearing a knowing, almost motherly smile.

After a while, the dishes arrived, and Yan and Zhu Jue put away the gift box but kept the rings on. The meal was lavish, with six dishes in total: three hot dishes, one cold dish, a dessert, and a soup. The portions weren’t overly large, and since they hadn’t eaten lunch, the food was delicious. Though they didn’t finish everything, they ate most of it.

The restaurant provided tea for rinsing their mouths, and after clearing the taste, Yan nibbled on some fruit. Just then, the waitress approached with an exquisite box.

She smiled warmly, “This is our special ‘Eternal Unity’ pastry, a gift for the two of you, symbolizing everlasting love.”

Yan was stunned. Why was the waitress suddenly giving them this?

She realized the waitress had noticed their rings and blushed as she thanked her.

“Thank you.”

The waitress made a heart gesture with her hands. The pastry was shaped like two interlocking rings, symbolizing unbreakable unity.

“I figured you might be full, so you can take this to enjoy later,” the waitress added, pulling out a handbag, clearly prepared in advance.

After the meal, Yan and Zhu Jue had no idea how much the bill was. Boss Tu took care of it, and they even left with a box of pastries. Zhu Jue carried the ring box, while Yan held the restaurant’s takeout bag. They decided to return to Boss Tu’s shop to have their jade pieces blessed, feeling it was only right to thank him after such a fine meal.

Since the streets were crowded, they took the shortcut Boss Tu had recommended.

As they walked down the narrow path, Yan and Zhu Jue spotted the man again—the one with the backpack who had asked if Boss Tu would buy his items earlier.

He recognized them too and hesitated for a moment before approaching.

“Take a look at this,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. “Tell your elders I’m willing to sell it cheap.”

Yan was baffled. Had he been wandering around, unable to find a buyer? Did no one want it?

So this was the kind of person Boss Tu had mentioned—someone convinced they had a priceless antique but in reality, it was worthless, yet they refused to believe it, peddling it everywhere.

Before she could refuse, the man had already pulled out a box from his bag, carefully lifting the black cloth to reveal its contents.

This time, both Yan and Zhu Jue were stunned.

What lay beneath the cloth looked eerily familiar.

A bronze bell, adorned with strange inscriptions.

At first glance, it looked exactly like the one Ding Ling had given Yan!

What the hell?

What was going on? Was this some kind of twin?

The man spoke up, “It’s a good piece, right? You can tell, can’t you? It’s been passed down in my family for five generations.”

The lie was obvious, but they didn’t call him out. Yan’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to do.

She had no idea if this bell was genuine or fake. The one Ding Ling had given her seemed precious, almost like a “ritual object.”

But Boss Tu and the other shopkeepers in the area, being experts, hadn’t taken it, which meant they must have spotted something off.

Yan guessed there were two possibilities: either it was dug up from the ground or it was a fake.

But even if she didn’t know its age, the design and the obscure inscriptions on it weren’t the kind of thing that would fetch a high price. Would someone really bother forging something like this?

Yan exchanged a glance with Zhu Jue. For now, they needed to keep the man calm.

As for the rest… well, they’d call for backup and let Ding Ling handle it.

“Put it away for now. Let’s talk in the shop,” Yan said, taking another look to confirm that the unfamiliar inscriptions matched those on the bell she had stored at home.

Hearing the young woman’s words, the man knew he had a chance. A smile spread across his face, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.

“Give me a price, and I’ll think about it. But can you two even make decisions? You’re so young,” he said, eyeing them skeptically.

Yan raised an eyebrow. So he didn’t want to go to the shop because he was afraid the “elders” would ruin his deal?

The man was definitely hiding something. Either the item was fake, or its origins were shady. Yan was sure of it.

The man quickly covered the bell with the cloth and tucked it back into his bag, clutching it tightly to his chest as if worried they might snatch it away, trying to create an air of preciousness.

“Let me check my bank account,” Yan said, pulling out her phone. The man’s eyes flickered with greed, but he didn’t dare look directly.

Yan quickly sent a message to Ding Ling:

[Yan]: Same bronze bell. Antique street. Come quickly. Stay quiet.

She sent her location, hoping Ding Ling was free and could grasp the urgency from her few words.

Yan put her phone down, pretending to think before speaking. “If you want to sell this, you’ll need to give me a realistic price.”

“Honestly, without knowing its age, and with that fake patina, no one’s going to buy it as an antique. At best, it’s a decorative piece.”

The man watched as the young woman checked her account and then proceeded to trash his item, calling it a fake. He felt a surge of satisfaction.

Ha, as if he didn’t know this trick. She was clearly trying to lowball him.

As for the so-called patina, heaven knew the bell had looked like that when he dug it up. Weren’t all bronze artifacts green? Clearly, it was an ancient relic!

The man shook his head. “It’s not a fake. It’s real. I took it straight from my family’s box.”

Zhu Jue’s brow twitched. The man’s hesitation was noticeable, and both of them caught the unnatural tone in his voice.

So it really was dug up from the ground?

“It’s real,” the man insisted again.

Yan looked at him with ease: “Your family has passed this down for five generations. Logically, you should have some understanding of it. At the very least, you should tell us its proper name, what kind of artifact it is, and how it ended up in your family.”

“These days, items with a clear lineage are called collectibles, while those in museums are called cultural relics. As for those without proper documentation…” Yan didn’t finish her sentence, but her eyes were full of implication.

To the man, it was clear that the young woman in front of him was suggesting that his item had dubious origins, and that he should be grateful if someone was willing to buy it at all. He shouldn’t expect a high price.

This was still an attempt to lowball him!

He knew that as a first-timer, he might have some vulnerabilities compared to these seasoned experts, but her words had indeed hit those vulnerabilities.

The man was still unwilling to give in. He thought to himself that this young woman had pegged his item as having questionable origins, but he was equally convinced that they recognized his item as genuine.

He had visited several shops, and most didn’t even look at it. Those who did simply asked him to leave, not outright calling it fake but saying they couldn’t verify its authenticity. They didn’t even offer a price.

Now, it seemed that only these two young people were left. He absolutely couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

The man knew that there would be more back-and-forth between them, and it wasn’t something that could be settled right here in this alley.

“Miss, sir, let’s talk somewhere else,” he said.

But he wasn’t very familiar with the antique street. On weekends, it was crowded with tourists, and carrying this item made it difficult to find a suitable place to talk. After all, the transaction and conversation they were about to have clearly belonged to a gray area.

“Let’s find a quiet place,” the man suggested.

A quiet place… Yan and Zhu Jue exchanged glances. “Then it’ll have to be near the courtyard,” Yan said.

“There’s a heritage-protected courtyard nearby. It’s usually empty. If you’re comfortable, we can go there,” Yan offered.

Earlier that morning, they had heard from Boss Tu that the Liang family courtyard had been closed for a long time for restoration.

Yan thought that going to this place would make it easier for Ding Ling to join them later.

“Lead the way,” the man said, clutching his bag and following Yan and Zhu Jue.

The Liang family courtyard, after being damaged, should have been restored. However, due to a special incident, the follow-up work had been handed over to the special case team.

And because of some sensitive matters, a month later, there were still no surveillance cameras installed.

Yan and Zhu Jue easily found a blind spot—right at the entrance, where they could perfectly monitor both sides for any approaching visitors.

Yan quietly sent Ding Ling their latest location and glanced at the brief reply Ding Ling had sent earlier.

[Ding Ling]: On my way. Stall for twenty minutes.

Calculating the time, Yan felt assured. Ding Ling should be arriving soon, and once she brought backup, Yan and Zhu Jue could make their escape.

Earlier in the alley, Yan had been the one negotiating with the man. Now it was Zhu Jue’s turn to step in. Bargaining was something they had been trained in since childhood.

“Five thousand? Are you kidding me? That’s way too low,” the man exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“I’m not asking for five hundred thousand, but at least three hundred thousand!”

“This isn’t a genuine artifact. Five thousand is already generous for a craft piece,” Zhu Jue scoffed, as if the offer was a favor.

The man crouched on the ground, still holding his bag, while Yan casually glanced at her watch.

“Only an idiot would spend five thousand on a craft piece. Three hundred thousand, not a penny less! Young man, if you hadn’t taken an interest, why would you have dragged this out for so long?” The man, agitated, pulled the item out of his backpack again and removed the black cloth covering it.

“Here, take a look, feel it. There’s nothing to swap it with. Take a good look,” he said, handing over the bronze bell.

Yan took it and silently weighed it in her hands. The weight was almost identical to the one Ding Ling had given her.

It was heavy, undoubtedly a bronze bell.

She compared it to the memory of another bronze bell she had seen before, noticing slight differences in the details.

Yan then passed the bell to Zhu Jue. After both had examined it, they put it down, still holding firm on their offer.

“Eight thousand,” Yan said.

“You call that bargaining?” The man was clearly frustrated. The offer was far below his expectations, especially since he had traveled all the way to Bin City for this.

“Look, look, this is the real deal. See how fresh the patina is? It’s just been dug up. Experts on TV say only recently unearthed items have this kind of green.”

In his agitation, the man let slip more than he should have. Yan and Zhu Jue’s expressions froze for a moment.

So, it really was something dug up from the ground. But this man was definitely not a tomb raider. Tomb raiders usually came from family or master-disciple lineages, and even those who stumbled into the trade knew to be cautious. This man, however, was clearly an amateur.

His rough, dark skin, calloused hands, and scars suggested he was more accustomed to heavy manual labor.

So, where had he dug this up? A construction site? Did he dig it up secretly, or was it part of a larger haul?

The man, though trying to speak in standard Mandarin, still had an accent that marked him as neither a northerner nor a local of Bin City.

Yan’s eyes flickered with thoughts. Just then, Ding Ling arrived!

She appeared suddenly and silently, without a single footstep. Prepared as they were, Yan and Zhu Jue felt relieved that they no longer had to stall. The man, however, was startled.

“When did she get here?” he muttered, instinctively reaching to cover the bronze bell with the black cloth. But Ding Ling had already seen it.

She had come in a hurry, not even notifying her team to avoid exposing the young couple. She had come alone.

Ding Ling’s pupils contracted as she saw the item. Yan, at this point, stood up and exchanged a silent glance with her before pulling Zhu Jue away.

The man was still processing what had happened. The sudden arrival of this young woman didn’t seem like a big deal to him. He assumed the couple had left to find a more private place to talk and immediately tried to follow them.

But as he was putting the bronze bell back into his bag, a police badge was thrust in front of his face.

The man’s eyes widened. “You… you… them?”

When he looked up again, the couple was nowhere to be seen.

He tried to run, but the seemingly frail young policewoman grabbed him, rendering him immobile.

Ding Ling made a quick phone call, said a few words, and hung up.

She used a wisp of yin energy to completely immobilize the man and then carefully examined the bronze bell in the box.

She channeled a bit of yin energy into it, and the bell responded with an almost imperceptible reaction.

Ding Ling looked up at the clear sky, reminded of that day a month ago, also at the entrance of the familiar Liang family courtyard.

Yan and Zhu Jue had effortlessly dismantled the formation’s core and left as if nothing had happened.

And today, history repeated itself. An artifact that was supposed to have vanished from records was handed over to her by Yan, who then walked away without a care in the world.

This bell, any one of them, would be considered a clan’s sacred treasure among the mystic families!

Such a monumental achievement, and yet Yan had passed it on without a second thought, leaving no trace of her involvement.

She could have kept it for herself, but instead, she handed it over to Ding Ling, a “semi-official” figure, without a hint of selfishness.

Ding Ling’s heart felt heavy. Yan, oh Yan, what on earth could she say to him?

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