Upgrading in Progress

"Hey? So many cars." Chen Qin gripped the steering wheel, staring blankly at the traffic ahead.

"This isn’t what you’d call a leisurely drive," Ye Shuang chuckled beside her.

"Is it because Haizhu City doesn’t have a subway?"

"Probably."

Ye Shuang glanced at Chen Qin, then his gaze drifted toward her window—

[Character: Chen Qin

"Though lacking the colorful wings of a phoenix, our hearts beat as one."]

[System Upgrade in Progress]

[Continue?]

Ye Shuang: "..."

Seeing the newly appeared pop-up, Ye Shuang felt a flicker of confusion. What did this mean?

Noticing the car wasn’t moving, Chen Qin instinctively turned to Ye Shuang—only to find him staring intently in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat. Fiddling with a strand of her hair, her ears flushed crimson as she stammered,

"Wh-what?"

Ye Shuang, still fixated on the window, reached out to tap the [Continue] button.

But the next moment, his finger met unexpected resistance.

Huh?

The word [Continue] began to tremble before the window abruptly vanished.

Snapping back to reality, Ye Shuang realized his finger was now poking something soft—and a pair of stunned eyes.

Chen Qin: "..."

Ye Shuang: "..."

"Wait, I—I didn’t mean to do that," Ye Shuang quickly explained.

"Hmph, pervert." Chen Qin’s face burned scarlet, though she didn’t seem too upset. She merely muttered, "There are cameras outside, you know."

Ye Shuang swallowed hard, forcing an awkward smile.

The atmosphere in the car grew oddly tense, but thankfully, the traffic soon eased, and they resumed driving.

Chen Qin stayed silent, cheeks still pink, but as an adult, she quickly composed herself—even going so far as to rest a hand on Ye Shuang’s thigh while driving.

Ye Shuang: "..."

Wait, shouldn’t this be the other way around?

After a while, they finally arrived at their destination—a shabby-looking little eatery with only three or four cramped tables, each barely seating two. A sign outside read: [Slope Roast Chicken].

The name likely came from the shop’s location on a slope.

The moment they stepped out of the car, the rich aroma of roasted chicken hit them, drawing a small crowd of customers.

"Wow, smells amazing."

"Agreed..." Ye Shuang studied the unassuming exterior. Places like this usually didn’t disappoint.

"How’d you find this place?" he asked.

"Someone recommended it, though some say their chicken’s a bit salty," Chen Qin said, holding up a finger.

"Probably inconsistent cooking."

Ye Shuang almost joked that the saltiness might come from the chef’s sweat dripping into the roast, but he held back to avoid ruining Chen Qin’s appetite.

"Let’s try it first." Chen Qin looked delighted. Spending her rare day off with Ye Shuang was a joy.

"Seems like the busiest spot around here," Ye Shuang remarked, noting the empty Xinjiang barbecue joint next door, its lamb skewers hanging untouched. Maybe it catered to night owls.

"One roast chicken, a plate of fried pork intestines, and stir-fried rice noodles," Chen Qin ordered.

"Got it," came the reply from inside.

They took their seats. At nearly eighty yuan for a chicken, it wasn’t cheap.

"How’s work lately?" Ye Shuang asked casually while waiting.

"Busy." Chen Qin propped her cheek on one hand. "The market’s unstable—stock prices are plummeting. Makes my head itch."

"Economic downturn," Ye Shuang said. "Being busy is normal."

Chen Qin gave him a lingering look, then whispered, "You could help me, you know."

"I..."

After a pause, Ye Shuang replied, "Yu You and the others are more independent now. If things settle, I might be able to join you."

"Really?" Chen Qin’s eyes lit up.

"Yeah."

But she suddenly shook her head. "No, it’s fine."

"Huh?"

"Ye, you like your life now, right?" Chen Qin spoke softly. "As much as I want you by my side..."

"I’d rather you choose the life you want. For yourself."

She smiled sweetly. "Right?"

What set Chen Qin apart was how she always prioritized Ye Shuang’s feelings—the one person he could truly rely on.

"Roast chicken," the server announced, placing a plate between them.

"Dig in."

"Mm."

They picked up their chopsticks. The chicken, chopped into bite-sized pieces, smelled heavenly—crispy skin, tender meat... and yes, a tad salty.

Next came the fried pork intestines, best paired with sweet-and-sour sauce.

But halfway through, Ye Shuang and Chen Qin exchanged a glance.

Too greasy.

In unison, they raised their hands. "To-go boxes, please."

Back in the car, Chen Qin gulped water. "Ugh... Next time, no ordering both at once. So heavy."

"Roast chicken and fried intestines? No kidding," Ye Shuang laughed.

Chen Qin handed him her bottle. "Miscalculation. I need herbal tea!"

"Let’s go." Ye Shuang took a swig. The meal was bound to leave them feeling overheated.

They drove another twenty kilometers to an old herbal tea shop. Most of their day had been spent on the road.

During the drive, Ye Shuang brought up An Shiyu.

"Do you know much about An Shiyu’s family?"

"Shiyu?"

"Her surname’s An."

"Doesn’t matter. Two syllables is fine—you get me." Still, Chen Qin seemed curious. "I know a bit about her grandfather. She’s a local-born mixed-race girl. Her great-grandfather was a martyr for our country."

"Her parents?"

"Heard they died in an accident—something about an explosion. Not sure of details, but her family’s old-money aristocracy. Big-name conglomerate."

She paused. "Oh, and I think her parents were researchers."

Researchers?

Ye Shuang fell into thought.