Chapter 168: A Check-in Task That Made Qin Yun Turn Pale

He had originally planned to drive back to Hangzhou today, but unexpectedly ran into two wealthy families.

One gave him a house in Pudong, the other a commercial shop in Minhang; he could only stay in Shanghai one more day.

The next day, he first went to Jiuli Shuxiang in Pudong—this neighborhood's location was indeed far outskirt, at least thirty kilometers from the city center; for an ordinary person living here, commuting to the city by car would be a problem.

Though situated near the waterfront, the complex was well-built, with a grand gatehouse, perfect for a temporary stay.

The house was fully renovated, but empty inside—just a room full of dust; he had no intention of cleaning it up yet, so he wandered around, handled some property procedures, and left. Then he headed straight for the Minhang commercial shop.

He didn't know Shanghai well, but he knew Minhang was its geographic center and its true core district today, so he didn't need to guess how high the property prices were there.

A commercial shop in Minhang district—even slightly off-center—was likely worth over ten million, let alone…

Qin Yun stared at the shop ahead and thought: Did I come to the right place?

The shop was currently rented to Moutai and Chow Tai Fook—Moutai occupied two-thirds, Chow Tai Fook one-third; Moutai paid one point two million yuan annually, Chow Tai Fook six hundred thousand.

"Damn—!"

This was a golden goose—he didn't need to do anything, just collect rent and lie flat; this gift was too heavy.

The arrival of the new landlord made the Moutai owner and the Chow Tai Fook owner anxious, fearing their lease wouldn't be renewed. Since this year was the contract's end, even if they refused to renew, the tenants had no recourse.

"Boss Mao, Boss Zhou, I'm not fond of changes—just re-sign the contract as before, but the rent increase needs adjustment."

Qin Yun's words made Boss Mao and Boss Zhou feel bitter—damn, capitalists really are awful.

But Qin Yun's next sentence stunned them both: "Boss Mao, Boss Zhou, since this is our first collaboration, your success means my rent income—so let's lower the increase from 8% to 3%."

The two stared at each other.

"Uh, Boss Qin, you mean a 3% reduction, not an additional 3% increase?" Boss Mao asked cautiously—he currently paid 1.2 million yuan per year; an 8% increase would raise it to nearly 1.3 million, but a 3% increase would save him sixty to seventy thousand yuan.

Qin Yun smiled: "Exactly a 3% reduction. What? Are you two unwilling?"

How could Boss Mao and Boss Zhou refuse? They just hadn't expected such sudden good fortune and hurriedly said: "Willing, willing! Thank you, Boss Qin! Thank you, Boss Qin!"

"Then sign the contract—I'm leaving for Hangzhou soon, time is tight."

Quickly, the lease was re-signed; Qin Yun's single trip to Shanghai netted him a residential property and a commercial shop yielding two million yuan gross annually.

On the way back to Hangzhou, he told Su Huan about it.

Su Huan laughed and groaned, teasing: "Did they want you to marry into the family? Become their son-in-law?"

"I thought the same," Qin Yun said without shame, even proudly: "Can't help it—when you're outstanding, you're just that popular."

"Pfft, give you a ray of sunshine and you start shining," Su Huan sneered.

"Hahahaha!"

Laughing and chatting, Qin Yun soon exited the highway, entered the city, and after another half-hour, his car pulled up beneath Su Huan's building.

It was already 5:30 p. m.

As the door opened, the scent of food wafted out, making one's appetite surge.

"Wash your hands—dinner's ready."

Su Huan wore a cream-colored apron, looking every bit the devoted wife and mother; his heart leapt sharply.

He had never seen this scene with Song Ya.

Before, with Song Ya, it was the opposite—he was the one in the kitchen; Song Ya rarely entered.

He glanced at the dishes on the table and smiled: "Looks good—but I wonder how it tastes? If it's bad, this master chef will scold you."

Su Huan tapped his shoulder: "Go wash your hands, Master Qin—hurry up, or the food will get cold."

After Qin Yun washed his hands, Su Huan poured each of them a bottle of coconut milk.

"Here, to celebrate you successfully completing another livestream—cheers."

"Cheers!"

They lightly clinked bottles and each took a sip.

"Today's the 16th—how long can you rest until?"

Qin Yun said: "Douyin's notice says I leave Beijing on the 20th with Guo Yao for a ten-day training camp in Canada, then the show filming starts directly on January 1st."

"No rest before filming?"

"Mm." Qin Yun nodded. "Filming starts immediately—the format hasn't changed much: collect footage every seven days, so the first episode airs in the third week, delayed by about two weeks."

"That's a long delay."

"Can't help it—editing footage from fifty people in a week is already tight. The initial plan is like this; as the number of participants decreases, adjustments will likely be made—probably filming and airing the next week."

They ate and chatted, speaking only of work.

"I meant to say this earlier." Qin Yun picked up another piece of peeled fish meat, puzzled: "How did you make this taste? Did you look it up online? It's so authentic—I swear, it reminds me of my mom's cooking."

Su Huan laughed: "Your mom taught me. I was wondering when you'd notice."

"I recognized it from the first bite—I thought you found a recipe online, but the more I ate, the more it tasted like my mom's—she always uses a lot of vinegar; most people can't stand it."

"How's my cooking talent, Master Qin?" Su Huan's eyes narrowed, her smile bursting from her face.

"Excellent." Qin Yun gave a thumbs-up. "You've reached one-tenth of my skill. When I have time, I'll teach you the Culinary Dao—help you break through your current level effortlessly."

"Get lost."

They finished the meal over an hour later.

Laughing and chatting, Qin Yun felt more relaxed than ever—he wished it could last forever.

"Leave it—I'll wash the dishes."

Su Huan quickly stopped him as he moved to collect the bowls.

"No, you peel some fruit." Qin Yun gently pushed her hand back. "You cooked—how could I let you wash dishes? I'll do it—I used to do it all the time."

Su Huan froze, her gaze on him suddenly soft.

"The past is past, Qin Yun—don't keep remembering it. Look ahead."

Qin Yun met Su Huan's gaze, wanting to look away but unable to—deep down, he didn't want to either.

"Yes, it's all in the past."

Their gazes met, and suddenly, silence fell.

No voices, only their breaths, light and entwined; their heartbeats—one, two—clear as bell.

Qin Yun could no longer bear it; he hastily grabbed his bowl and chopsticks and turned toward the kitchen, nearly fleeing in panic.

Su Huan's lips curled upward; she leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching his back, unable to suppress a quiet joy.

Qin Yun turned on the faucet; cold water splashed onto his hands, finally calming him slightly.

"Qin Yun, Qin Yun, don't let lust cloud your judgment. If you have this little self-control, what kind of man are you?"

After clearing the leftovers, Qin Yun sat for a while, then prepared to take his leave.

Su Huan's place was only a one-bedroom apartment.

Qin Yun stepped out the door, carrying the kitchen waste: "I'm off then. You should rest early too."

"Mm, drive carefully."

He nodded, turned, and descended the stairs. When he tossed the trash into the bin, Su Huan's voice came floating down from above.

"Chef Qin, what should we do tomorrow?"

Qin Yun looked up at her, scratched his head: "I'm not familiar with the area. Why don't you decide?"

"Let's go walk through Jiuxi and Shiba Jian. It should be beautiful in winter."

"Alright, whatever you say."

"Then it's settled. I'll wait for you."

Qin Yun waved goodbye, turned, got into his car, started the engine, and quickly drove off.

Su Huan didn't see that Qin Yun's Land Rover had barely left the compound when it pulled over to a nearby bus stop, and his expression changed drastically as he stared at the system panel before him.

This was a new check-in task that had suddenly popped up when Su Huan mentioned Jiuxi and Shiba Jian.

It was this task that made him pale.

【Check-in Task Released: Host must visit Jiuxi and Shiba Jian on December 17th and kiss Su Huan to complete the check-in.】

Visiting Jiuxi and Shiba Jian isn't a problem—the issue is the "kiss Su Huan" part.

Fuck, is this system even serious? How the hell are you pulling this kind of stunt? Kissing is for lovers—he and Su Huan aren't lovers. How could he possibly do that?

Qin Yun wasn't the type to go mad and forcibly kiss Su Huan just to complete a task.

"I'm speechless." Qin Yun rubbed his face, utterly at a loss for how to express his feelings.

At that moment, his lips felt dry, and his body seemed to be anticipating something.

He sat at the bus stop for a long time, unable to come up with any solution, and finally decided—

"Fuck it, forget the task."

With that, he stomped on the accelerator, and the car roared away.

That night, Qin Yun tossed and turned, unable to sleep at all; his mind churned with wild thoughts, and in every image, a familiar figure always appeared beside him, and he always did things beyond friendship.

It excited him, but more than that, it made him anxious—and hopeful.

He knew what he was excited about, and what he was hoping for—but inside, a voice kept whispering: new feelings must be handled with caution, extreme caution—don't repeat past mistakes.

Until three or four in the morning, he suddenly slapped himself hard, growling: "Fuck it, what are you afraid of? Are you even a man? Qin Yun, sleep."

…

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Su Huan looked at Qin Yun, puzzled. "You look a bit drained."

Qin Yun shook his head, not telling her he hadn't slept a wink.

Though he looked tired, his current physical condition made staying up all night nothing unusual.

"It's fine. Are you ready? If so, let's go."

Su Huan nodded, scanned him up and down, then returned to the bedroom and brought out a scarf.

"It's a bit cold in Hangzhou today. Wrap this around your neck—it'll keep you warm."

As she spoke, she reached out and draped the scarf around Qin Yun's neck; in an instant, they were pressed close—so close he could smell her scent, see the fine hairs on her cheeks.

Qin Yun's body tensed instantly; he held his breath, terrified his breakfast breath might escape and taint the beauty before him.

After wrapping the scarf snugly, Su Huan studied him again, then nodded in satisfaction: "There. Now you're warm. Let's go."