Chapter 47: A Friend from Heilongjiang

When he got home, Qin Yun started preparing dinner. Although his cooking skills were average, since getting married, Song Ya had never set foot in the kitchen—he handled everything, and even if he didn’t cook, Song Ya would just order takeout.

After years of practice like this, cooking a meal or making a dish was now effortless for him.

Less than an hour later, as he was just about to finish the last dish, the front door opened and Hu Fen returned from work.

As soon as she stepped inside, Hu Fen caught the aroma of food. Seeing the busy figure in the kitchen, she smiled.

“Son, what are you cooking?”

Qin Yun turned to look at his mother and poured the water out of the bowl: “Mom, just the last soup—ready to eat in a moment.”

“Great! Then I’ll finally taste my son’s cooking.”

She resolved that no matter how bad it tasted, she’d say it was delicious.

Still, she had confidence in Qin Yun—his skilled movements showed he’d done this many times.

Thinking of this, she grew even more resentful toward Song Ya. As a woman, you didn’t have to know how to cook, but Qin Yun hadn’t known how to either before—they were on equal footing.

My son is willing to put in the effort—why won’t you? Good riddance.

Soon, Qin Yun ladled out the soup and brought out each dish, then placed a drink in front of Hu Fen.

People from Zhoushan love to have a drink before meals—either beer or milk, something like that.

Qin Yun’s family was no exception.

“You worked hard,” Hu Fen smiled. “Let me taste your cooking.”

She picked up a piece of red-braised peeled fish and put it in her mouth, chewed slowly, then her eyes brightened slightly.

“Son, this is delicious!”

Qin Yun laughed heartily, proudly: “Tastes good, right? My skills are pretty solid now.”

Hu Fen gave him a thumbs-up, and the mother and son chatted as they ate.

When Hu Fen heard Qin Yun say his commercial video quotes had reached fifty thousand per video, she was stunned speechless.

“My fan base isn’t big enough yet. Once I hit a million followers, it’ll be even higher—let alone if I reach ten million.”

“That’s already a lot,” Hu Fen said. “If you do ten videos a month, that’s five hundred thousand in income.”

“Mom, you can’t calculate it like that. It depends on whether clients are willing to invest—not every video qualifies. Companies like DJI have extremely high quality standards.”

“Still, it’s very impressive,” Hu Fen said, delighted after her shock. It meant her son had found a new career path.

But on the other hand, she felt some worry—she’d seen one of his live streams, and it had been far too dangerous.

After that one stream, even though he was fine, she nearly had a heart attack.

After dinner, his mother cleared the dishes. Qin Yun cut up some fruit, sat down on the sofa, and his phone rang.

Qin Yun glanced at the caller ID and smiled.

He answered: “Hey, Director Gao, now that you’re an official, you’re different—haven’t contacted your brother in ages.”

Gao Feng, his college roommate, wasn’t in the same major.

He returned home after graduation, passed the civil service exam, joined the state system, and became a clerk in the city. Last year, he was sent to the grassroots level, showing signs of being groomed for promotion.

“Don’t say that,” Gao Feng complained. “You think grassroots work is easy? If you just lie around, it’s paradise. But if you have ambition, you’ll be so busy you won’t get any sleep.”

“Also, don’t call me Director Gao. Call me Mayor Gao. Thank you.”

“What the hell…” Qin Yun was startled. “When did you become mayor? Who’s your backer?”

“That’s called outstanding performance. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Damn, Mayor Gao’s aiming straight for the mayor’s seat in Harbin, huh?”

“Actually… I am.”

Qin Yun teased: “You’re already fat, and now you’re puffing up. Come on, Mr. Busy Man, why are you calling me? Spit it out—I’ve got to hang up before I waste your precious time.”

Gao Feng replied calmly: “I hate to rub salt in the wound, but as your brother, not telling you about my wedding feels wrong.”

“Wedding?” Qin Yun paused. “You’re getting married? I thought you didn’t even have a girlfriend.”

“Get lost. Who said I didn’t have one? I’ve been dating her for two years.”

“Damn, you kept that quiet,” Qin Yun marveled. “So you’re here for a red envelope? Don’t you know I’m unemployed and divorced?”

“Stop whining. Wedding’s on October 3rd. Get here fast. I’m saving the best man spot for you—since you’re divorced and single. I’ve saved another best man spot for Ah Hu.”

“Haha, got it. I’ll be there. I’ll buy tickets right away.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go. We’ll talk more when you arrive—I still have to notify everyone else.”

“OK, see you then.”

After hanging up, Shen Hu had already sent Qin Yun a WeChat message about Gao Feng’s wedding.

“What date are you leaving?”

Qin Yun calculated: “I might not get tickets on the 1st. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Then I’m leaving tomorrow too.”

After setting a meeting time with Shen Hu, Qin Yun told Hu Fen he was going to Harbin the next day.

“That skinny tall guy, right? I remember him.”

When Qin Yun got married, Shen Hu and Gao Feng were the groomsmen—Hu Fen had met them once.

“Yeah, that’s him.” He hadn’t expected his mother to remember after so long—it surprised him.

“Did your other friend get married too?”

“No, he’s still dating his girlfriend. But it’ll probably happen in the next couple of years—he’s almost thirty.”

After chatting a while, Qin Yun checked flight tickets and found none directly from Mount Putuo to Harbin—only from Hangzhou Xiaoshan International Airport.

He’d have to drive to Hangzhou first, then fly to Harbin.

Just as he was about to book, he suddenly remembered—had Gao Feng invited Su Huan?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, his WeChat voice call rang—speak of the devil.

“Hey, Class President.”

Su Huan said: “I just got a call from Gao Feng—he’s getting married during National Day. So sudden.”

Qin Yun nodded. It was indeed sudden. Most people announce weddings two months in advance—this guy was giving only four days’ notice.

“Are you going?” Qin Yun asked.

Su Huan countered: “What about you?”

But immediately after, she laughed: “Never mind—I already know when you’re leaving.”

“When you called, I was checking tomorrow’s flights—I’ll have to go through Xiaoshan Airport.”

Su Huan’s eyes lit up: “Perfect. Pick me up tomorrow—I’ll go with you.”

“Sure,” Qin Yun had no problem. “Send me your ID number—I’ll book your ticket too.”

“Alright.”

The faint voice Hu Fen overheard sounded familiar. She asked casually: “Son, is that the girl from before?”

Qin Yun nodded: “Yeah, my classmate from Hangzhou—our college class president. She’s doing great at Alibaba now.”

Hu Fen didn’t care about that. She feigned curiosity: “Do you have a photo? I don’t remember her well. Did she come to your wedding?”

“She did.” Qin Yun opened his photo album, found the picture taken in Hangzhou, and pointed to Su Huan smiling brightly. “This one. Ring any bells?”

“Hmm… a little. Pretty girl. Married? What’s her name again? I remember she’s a Su.”

“Yes, Su Huan.” Qin Yun suddenly realized—he laughed helplessly. “Mom, what are you doing? You don’t have to rush like this.”

Hu Fen chuckled: “I was just asking out of curiosity. You’re overthinking.”

Qin Yun shook his head, exasperated. At least his mother was calm—if she were like other parents, frantically pushing him to marry, it’d be unbearable.

After Su Huan sent her ID info, Qin Yun immediately logged into the ticketing app and bought two tickets for 9:30 p.m. the next evening, giving himself plenty of time.

Although Gao Feng wasn’t in his major, he knew many people in their class.

Su Huan was one of them.

After booking the tickets and informing Su Huan, Qin Yun lay on the sofa watching TV.

Around nine, his mother went to bed and started scrolling on her phone. Qin Yun uploaded the video edited by Fang Nan to his Douyin account.

The video naturally carried its own traffic. As soon as it was uploaded, fans who received the app notification clicked on it immediately.

Five minutes later, he refreshed the page and saw the likes, comments, and favorites beginning to climb.

“Whoa, just opened the video and found the master uploaded the pure video version—surprise!”

“This video is so well-made. Less direct thrill than the live stream, but the visuals are even stronger.”

“Master is awesome.”

He told Li Rui about the upload, and the pre-arranged budget immediately began boosting promotion.

After all, this was a commercial video—brands using Dou+ were standard practice.

Fortunately, Qin Yun’s agreement with DJI didn’t include any data requirements.

That had its pros and cons.

After all, with data requirements, the returns would naturally be higher.

After posting the video, Qin Yun monitored it for about half an hour, then began packing his personal clothes and equipment.

He guessed this trip to Harbin would bring a new task—according to the system’s pattern, going to a new place triggered new tasks.

So he had to carry his filming gear with him.

If Harbin weren’t so far and driving weren’t so inconvenient and time-consuming, he’d have preferred to drive.

Carrying so much gear meant a large suitcase—leaving barely room for two sets of clothes.

Harbin’s current temperature wasn’t high. He checked the weather app: although the National Day holiday promised clear skies, the average temperature was only seven degrees.

…

The next morning, Qin Yun opened his eyes, checked his phone, and found a WeChat message from Fang Nan.

“Bro Yun, the video blew up—hit 1.2 million likes overnight, absolutely massive.”

He checked the send time: 5 a.m. So Fang Nan hadn’t slept all night.

He opened TikTok—sure enough, his video had exploded, with 1.3 million likes and still climbing.

The comments section was buzzing, most expressing shock, since this kind of content barely existed on TikTok.

The backend was even worse—business partnership requests flooded in like snowflakes; he couldn’t possibly keep up.

Sitting up on the bed, Qin Yun replied to a few comments, scanned through the partnership offers, then gave up entirely.

It was simply too hard to sort through.

“No rush—bread’s here, milk will come too. The initiative is mine. The advantage is mine.”

Muttering to himself, he got up to wash up; his mother was already preparing breakfast.

Before leaving, Hu Fen said: “Call me when you get to Harbin.”

“Yeah, sure, Mom. Drive safely.”

Around 8:30, Qin Yun packed everything and got into the car.