Now Gone

Although they were heading to the museum, neither Ye Shuang's "Bull Demon King" (a nickname for his car) nor Chen Qin's 911 could comfortably fit five people. Fortunately, the garage had plenty of vehicles, so Ye Shuang and Chen Qin ended up riding in Zhou's Father's car.

"Ye Shuang... the car roof looks strange," Bai Yuyou murmured after sitting down, her beautiful eyes blinking at the dense clusters of light dots above.

"Don’t like it?" Ye Shuang reached for the control button and dimmed the starry roof lights slightly.

The girl shook her head faintly—she was just curious. Truthfully, she preferred riding in Ye Shuang’s car. The cozy space, just the two of them, gave her an indescribable sense of security.

"Sweetie, scoot closer."

Meanwhile, Zhou's Mother, sitting in the passenger seat, pulled out her phone to take pictures of Bai Yuyou. The resemblance between mother and daughter was undeniable, though Bai Yuyou’s features were more refined, carrying a uniquely serene and cool elegance.

The five-kilometer drive wasn’t long. Sensing their daughter’s reluctance, Zhou's Father and Mother avoided bringing up their return to Hong Kong during the ride. Instead, following Chen's Father’s suggestion, they shared stories about their past as a couple. Zhou's Mother even played some of her own songs for Bai Yuyou.

Bai Yuyou listened quietly. Though she didn’t understand the lyrics, the music was pleasant.

At the very least, Zhou's Mother was on the right track—this approach made it easier for Bai Yuyou to warm up to them.

"Yuyou, interested in music?" Ye Shuang seized the moment to explore her hobbies and smiled as he asked.

The girl hesitated before whispering, "Earlier... the video."

A few words were enough for Ye Shuang to understand. She seemed intrigued by the video Chen's Father had shown earlier. "Do you like Chen Qin’s violin?" he probed.

"Violin?" Chen Qin turned around with a playful grin. "I can arrange a good teacher for you."

But Bai Yuyou shook her head. "Ye Shuang’s..."

"Piano?"

"Sounds nice..."

Noticing her budding interest in piano, Ye Shuang mentally scanned their small apartment for a spot to fit one. Maybe by the floor-to-ceiling window?

Yi Wan might have to sacrifice some space for her cat bed.

Oh well. If the cat doesn’t complain, it means she approves.

"Piano’s a great choice. Ye Shuang can teach you," Chen Qin chimed in, resting her cheek on her hand with a lazy smile. "You haven’t gotten rusty, have you?"

Her other hand poked Ye Shuang’s cheek teasingly.

The Chen Qin of today was no longer the girl who feigned distance while secretly pining for him. Her affection for Ye Shuang now overflowed openly.

"A little rust is inevitable," Ye Shuang admitted, catching her mischievous hand.

Whether it was intellect or physical prowess, Ye Shuang believed his peak was back in high school—when he sported thick bangs and mumbled cheesy confessions like "I luv u."

Soon, they arrived at the museum.

Despite it being the weekend, the crowd was sparse—unlike the packed beaches where parking spots were scarce and fees exorbitant.

"I’ll get the tickets," Ye Shuang said, heading to the counter.

After a short wait, he requested, "Five adult tickets, please."

"100. Scan here." A bored voice drifted from the window. Ye Shuang looked up, puzzled.

Inside sat a familiar girl with a bob cut, her head tilted as she watched a drama on her tablet.

"An Shiyu?"

"Oh, Uncle. Stalking me again?" She deadpanned, barely glancing at him before resuming her show.

"I should be the one saying that! Why are you always doing random jobs?" Ye Shuang’s expression mirrored the infamous "confused old man" meme.

"I was delivering takeout yesterday," she shrugged. "Hurry up and pay, Uncle. Don’t hold up the line."

After scanning the payment, An Shiyu shoved five tickets at him.

"Spending your weekend staring at old junk in a museum? How boring."

Ye Shuang: "..."

"Your jobs are way more pointless?!"

"Eh, true." She blinked blankly, not even denying it.

"But whether something’s boring or not, you gotta try it yourself. Other people’s opinions are useless."

With that, she packed up her tablet and stepped out of the booth. "Alright, I’m clocking out. Entertain me, Uncle."

"You’re just leaving?" Ye Shuang gaped, gesturing to the queue behind him.

An Shiyu stuffed her hands in her pockets, her blunt bangs swaying as she gave him a flat look. "Who cares? You can buy e-tickets or use the machines. This job’s just for lazy parasites anyway."

"Finish what you start! And apologize to ticket sellers worldwide!"

Ye Shuang grabbed her and stuffed her back inside.

"Ye Shuang, what’s taking so long?" Chen Qin called from a distance.

"Coming!"

Tickets in hand, he hurried back.

Inside the booth, An Shiyu propped her chin on her palm, watching him leave. Then she turned to the next customer.

"What?"

"Uh... two tickets, please."

"We’re closed. Go home."

"Huh? ↗"

......

"What were you doing at the counter?" Chen Qin asked, having seen him lingering earlier.

"Ran into an acquaintance selling tickets. Chatted for a bit." Ye Shuang waved the tickets. "Let’s head in."

After scanning their tickets, Ye Shuang guided Bai Yuyou through the exhibits. The city’s museum didn’t house any extraordinary artifacts—just common porcelain, calligraphy, and local history displays.

"Artifacts..." Bai Yuyou stood before a glass case, studying the pristine white porcelain and its age. "So old..."

"Yeah." Ye Shuang stared at it too, his system window popping up involuntarily.

[Item: White Porcelain

A piece of porcelain.]

If only the system had an appraisal feature—he’d make a killing as an antique expert.

After a few more rounds, Ye Shuang noticed Bai Yuyou’s quiet focus. Historical relics carried a weight that pulled you into their era, the more you knew.

Suddenly, she tugged his sleeve. "Ye Shuang..."

"What’s up?"

"Why does it say ancient men had multiple wives... but not anymore?" She pointed at a description panel.