Chapter 67: Chef Qin Yun Is Online

The plane landed at Xiaoshan Airport, the plane took off from Xiaoshan Airport…

At the domestic exit, Su Huan periodically looked up at the large screen on the wall, then periodically glanced toward the exit, but never saw a familiar figure.

"Why hasn't he come out yet? The plane landed a long time ago."

Su Huan looked down at her phone, muttering to herself.

"What are you mumbling about?"

Suddenly, a voice came from beside her, startling her; she snapped her head up and saw Qin Yun standing to her left, backpack on his back.

"When did you get out?"

Su Huan blurted out.

"Let's go, let's go—talk in the car." Qin Yun walked toward the exit; Su Huan hurried after him.

Su Huan had driven her Land Rover to pick him up. Qin Yun put down his backpack, got in the car, and only turned to look at Su Huan in the driver's seat once they were on the main road.

"Big Host Qin, why are you staring at me?"

Qin Yun smiled, turned his gaze away, and looked ahead at the traffic: "First, let's get dinner—just find any stir-fry place near your place."

Su Huan: "Sure, you're paying."

"NOPROBLEM!!"

"This wilderness survival livestream has firmly established you in the outdoor niche—your livestreams are currently extremely popular on Douyin," Su Huan said, shifting to business. "What are your plans going forward? Keep doing wilderness livestreams, or…?"

Qin Yun shook his head: "I'll rest first, then decide—I'm not sure if I'll continue with wilderness livestreams, but I'll probably stick with them."

He'd been thinking about this very thing on the plane.

Normally, it'd be easiest to just follow the check-in tasks—it'd save effort. But after careful thought, following the tasks too closely would make his self-media path too haphazard, like blindly swinging a stick at a tree whether there were dates on it or not.

So before disembarking, he wondered: what if he reversed the check-in tasks—integrated them into his self-media work instead?

For example, this Daxing'anling check-in task came first, then the livestream followed. Next time, he'd plan the livestream direction first; the task would naturally appear in his local area, and he could complete it during the livestream—why not?

Of course, this was still just a thought—he hadn't decided yet.

"Mm, just make sure you think it through," Su Huan said, driving, her eyes occasionally glancing at Qin Yun's face through the rearview mirror.

That face, weathered by five days of wind and sun, was rougher now—but somehow more compelling.

"By the way, about the studio. If you want to set one up in Hangzhou, it's simple—you can register entirely online. As for Fang Nan, her current partnership with a friend can fully handle your production needs, and pricing can follow market rates."

"Did you mention it to Fang Nan?"

Su Huan nodded, then smiled as something occurred to her: "Fang Nan was reluctant—she said since you made a prior agreement, you should stick to it. But I overruled her."

Qin Yun shook his head: "Five days' worth of footage for a thousand yuan? She'd take it, but I wouldn't dare pay it—not even Huang Shiren was that outrageous."

"Exactly—this much footage can't be handled by one person in a short time. A formal business arrangement is best."

"That's exactly what I thought."

As the car exited the ramp, Qin Yun looked at her: "What about you?"

"Me?" Su Huan blinked, then glanced at him. "I already said I'm just lending a hand—free help during my free time. We're old classmates and good friends—does helping you really need to involve money? Isn't that too worldly?"

"Or… do you want to use money to draw a line between us?"

Qin Yun watched Su Huan's teasing, slightly indignant smile in the driver's seat, his heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked away: "No, but if you take nothing, how am I supposed to feel? Just treat it as a side job—let you manage the studio, and I'll give you five percent of each livestream's income…"

"One percent is enough."

Su Huan had already thought this through. As Qin Yun said, if things went well, his self-media career would only grow bigger, his earnings rising accordingly. If she kept helping for free, she'd only push him away. So why not use money to bind their relationship together?

"That's too little."

"Enough. Listen to me—one percent." Su Huan's tone was firm, unyielding. "You said it's just my side job—then follow my decision."

Seeing her expression, Qin Yun nodded reluctantly: "Alright then."

"If so, prepare your ID card, bank card, account details, and studio name today—I'll register the studio these next few days."

"Got it!"

The car finally parked in a spot beneath Su Huan's building. Qin Yun took nothing and followed Su Huan out of the compound to eat.

During dinner, Su Huan asked: "When are you going back to Zhoushan?"

"Not for now." Qin Yun chewed his food, silently shaking his head—the flavor was truly mediocre. He had countless ways to prepare this dish, all infinitely better than what was before him.

"I plan to visit other parts of Zhejiang."

"Road trip?"

Qin Yun nodded: "Yes—Shaoxing, Jinhua, Quzhou—I'll just wander around."

Road-tripping served two purposes: travel and broadening horizons, and the check-in tasks. He'd noticed it was hard to get a second task in one place; even after so long in Hangzhou, he'd only gotten one task—for Xihu.

The same in Zhoushan—he suspected the system had a long cooldown period for task generation in each city.

But regardless of the reason, to complete the check-in tasks, traveling around was necessary.

Especially after experiencing the changes brought by his skills, he'd grown fond of this feeling. During livestreams, when he casually named a plant or animal, or carved something on the spot, viewers only thought he knew a lot—or got lucky.

But only he knew: that near-instantaneous sense of control he felt was merely the tip of the iceberg.

"Good idea. In the wilderness, danger lurked everywhere—I saw how much weight you lost. You need to relax."

Su Huan thought Qin Yun needed rest.

Even watching the livestreams made her heart race—how much more so for him?

After dinner, Qin Yun suddenly remembered the four wolf fangs in his backpack. He had no interest in them himself; he'd taken them only intending to give them to his viewers.

"By the way, want the wolf fangs?"

"Wolf fangs?" Su Huan blinked, then suddenly realized—her eyes lit up. "You mean you took the teeth from those two wolves?"

Qin Yun nodded: "Took four canines. I'll give you one if you want."

"Great! What about the other three?"

"Planning to give them to a few big sponsors—I'll ask them now."

Saying this, he directly asked Bo Lang Ge and Feng Liu Jie on WeChat, as well as Chen He, who had ranked third in the carnival donations.

Zeng Luo and Han Wei responded immediately, sending over an address. Chen He, however, sent a silly image of himself kneeling, followed by a long voice message expressing his gratitude.

"I'll give you the address—could you mail these three wolf fangs and two wooden carvings for me?"

"Mm, no problem."

On the way back, Su Huan suddenly remembered something. She stared ahead, her voice slightly hesitant: "If you haven't booked a hotel yet, you can sleep at my place—my sofa pulls out."

Qin Yun heard this and was about to say he'd already booked, but then noticed how red Su Huan's earlobes were. Instantly, he swallowed the words he'd been about to speak.

"Oh! Now that you mention it, I forgot to book a hotel." He feigned dismay. "Wouldn't that be too much trouble for you?"

"No trouble at all—I'm not letting you sleep in my bedroom. What's so inconvenient?"

"Alright then, thanks."

After saying this, both turned away, each letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

He took his backpack out of the trunk. This was Qin Yun's second time entering Su Huan's home—just like last time, the same scent, the same cleanliness.

He glanced at the backpack in his hand, then simply tossed it onto the floor.

"Want to take a shower first? Oh, I have a bathtub—you can soak in it."

Qin Yun's eyes lit up: "That'd be wonderful if you allow it."

Su Huan rolled her eyes and walked toward the bathroom. "Hmph, if you weren't so stinky, I wouldn't offer. I'll go fill the tub for you."

Watching Su Huan's back, Qin Yun rubbed his nose, a strange feeling stirring in his chest.

He always felt Su Huan acted oddly toward him, but couldn't quite put his finger on it—he didn't dare imagine she liked him. After all, he was a divorced man with nothing to offer. What could she possibly want from him?

Besides, he couldn't afford to waste her time. His marriage had already collapsed; he wouldn't dare start a new relationship anytime soon.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Qin Yun had just pulled out clean clothes from his backpack when he heard Su Huan step out of the bathroom.

"By the way, hand me the items you want mailed—I'll place the order now. SF Express still picks up at this hour."

"Alright, let me find them."

After Su Huan placed the order, Qin Yun sent the tracking numbers to each recipient, then grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

"Just toss your dirty clothes and pants into the washing machine—they'll be done by the time you finish soaking. Then throw them in the dryer."

Qin Yun glanced at the two large appliances against the left wall, thinking: These could be perfect for Mom.

His family's apartment in Zhouyu Dormitory was on the first floor—sunlight vanished quickly. If they had a dryer, Mom wouldn't have to worry about rain or clouds when washing clothes.

The bathroom was small but dry-wet separated. The bathtub sat inside, encased in a disposable soaking bag, steam rising thickly. Qin Yun first rinsed himself with hot water, then stepped into the tub after washing clean.

Any man who's soaked in a bathtub knows: every part of the body can endure it, but the genitals suffer terribly under excessive heat—he had to test the water repeatedly before fully submerging himself.

"Ahh!"

Qin Yun kept only his head above water. Though cramped and awkward, the bliss of being wrapped in warmth made it all worthwhile.

Hearing the sounds from the bathroom, Su Huan smiled faintly.

……

The next morning, Qin Yun's biological clock woke him on time.

He checked his phone—it was only 6:30. Su Huan's room showed no movement; she was clearly still sound asleep.

Lying around was pointless, so he washed up and began searching the kitchen.

He found a pack of lamb offal, a bag of flour, some eggs, cilantro, scallions, and perilla leaves. Remembering Su Huan was from Hebei, he wondered: Could she actually prepare these herself?

With these ingredients, he instantly conceived a breakfast idea.

Su Huan woke at eight. The moment she opened her eyes, the enticing aroma drew her attention—and then she remembered there was a man in her house.

She quickly dressed and stepped out.

There, in the kitchen, she saw Qin Yun flipping pancakes—the scent of scallion oil couldn't be contained even by the glass door.

On the other side of the stove, a pressure cooker bubbled vigorously—the source of the original aroma. Her eyes widened with surprise and delight.

Qin Yun cooking wasn't surprising—he was a married man. But making these two dishes? That caught her completely off guard.

Lamb offal soup and savory pancakes—both classic Hebei breakfast staples.

She pulled open the glass door and leaned against the frame, smirking: "You didn't learn this from Xiaohongshu, did you?"

Qin Yun had already noticed her. Without turning, he laughed: "Haha, you're underestimating me. Taste my cooking and you'll see—I've got another nickname you don't know."

"What nickname?" Su Huan played along.

"The Divine Chef of Shenzhou."

"Pfft—"

That scoff vanished the instant the lamb offal soup touched her lips, replaced by wide-eyed wonder.

"Qin Yun, you really can cook! This is amazing—I've never made it this authentic myself."

"Piece of cake. If you like it, drink more—I'm rarely on duty as the Great Chef."