Half an hour later, the two had showered, changed into clean clothes, and were sitting in the restaurant Yu Huaiting had recommended.
The atmosphere here was very quiet and secluded, with semi-transparent screens separating each booth—excellent privacy.
Fu Songcheng flipped through the electronic menu floating before him. Even though he usually wasn’t sensitive about points, he couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at this moment.
The cheapest side dish here cost thirty points. Order a few main dishes at random, and a meal would basically run over a hundred points.
Keep in mind—bottom-tier players fighting tooth and nail through a “veteran leads newbie” instance only earned a few dozen points.
This restaurant was absurdly expensive.
“Order whatever you want. My treat.”
Yu Huaiting waved his hand carelessly. As number one on the Power Ranking, a hundred-plus points to him was no different from an ordinary person spending money on a bottle of mineral water.
Fu Songcheng didn’t stand on ceremony either, ordering a few dishes to his own taste—ones with unreadable names but very appetizing pictures.
The food came out quickly.
The dishes were genuinely stunning—carrying the texture of Earth ingredients, yet with some kind of indescribable, exotic umami.
At first, both focused on the food before them, neither speaking.
But the atmosphere wasn’t awkward—instead, it made Fu Songcheng feel calm and relaxed.
Only when they’d mostly finished did Yu Huaiting set down his chopsticks and take a sip of water from his glass.
He looked at Fu Songcheng opposite him, leisurely wiping the corner of his mouth, and his eyes flickered, as if weighing his words.
“Fu Songcheng.”
Yu Huaiting suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.
“Hm?” Fu Songcheng lifted his eyes to look at him.
Yu Huaiting leaned forward slightly, both elbows braced on the table, his expression turning somewhat serious. “Did you get a system notification this morning?”
“What are you referring to?” Fu Songcheng asked back without showing anything.
Yu Huaiting stared straight at him. “This morning, when I used a shop item to write you a letter, after it sent successfully, the system suddenly popped up a hidden achievement notification.”
He paused, his tone turning a little strange. “The system notification said… ‘Bitter Couple progress’ decreased by two percent.”
Yu Huaiting leaned back against the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Aren’t we lovers? What the hell is a ‘Bitter Couple’?”
“I remember.” Fu Songcheng looked into Yu Huaiting’s eyes, recalling the notification from when they’d first been bound as lovers. “The system had a line back then: ‘Lifelong partners or bitter enemies—fate always has its ways.’”
Yu Huaiting sat up straight, immediately catching on. “So ‘lover’ is just an initial base identity, and later it develops into either ‘lifelong partners’ or ‘bitter enemies’?”
“I think so.” Fu Songcheng nodded. “The system notifying you that ‘Bitter Couple’ decreased by two percent means that in the system’s judgment mechanism, our current state is on the ‘bitter couple’ branch. Or rather—from the moment we were bound, the initial tone was ‘bitter couple.’”
Yu Huaiting was a little unconvinced, but felt Fu Songcheng had a point. He pursed his lips and picked up his chopsticks to stab viciously at a plate of fish before him.
Seeing him like this, Fu Songcheng felt a little sorry for him. “Look on the bright side—at least it’s not entirely ‘bitter couple’ yet.”
Yu Huaiting irritably grabbed his water glass and downed a big gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently, as if trying to suppress the pent-up frustration in his chest.
He slammed the glass heavily onto the table. “What does this broken system know? Judging blindly.”
Fu Songcheng nodded slightly—he wholeheartedly agreed with that line. He also couldn’t understand how him hitting Yu Huaiting could be counted by the system as damage, then split back onto himself.
Broken system, judging blindly.
Fu Songcheng crossed his hands and propped them under his chin. Something suddenly occurred to him, and his eyes turned extremely serious, fixed unblinkingly on Yu Huaiting.
“You said… since the identity can branch, then wouldn’t the privileges and restrictions that come with the identity also change accordingly?”
Yu Huaiting froze, raising an eyebrow as he waited for Fu Songcheng to continue.
“We’re lovers now—sharing damage, syncing pain. If we become bitter enemies, what would it turn into?”
“Would the punishment double? For example, the damage one party takes rebounds a hundred percent onto the other?”
“So we’d better figure out this identity system.” Fu Songcheng concluded. “When everything is unclear, it’s best to maintain the status quo.”
Hearing this, Yu Huaiting’s expression improved again. He nodded in agreement and stopped abusing the perfectly cooked, fully deceased fish before him.
When it came time to pay, Yu Huaiting swiped a hundred and fifty points without blinking.
Just before leaving, he suddenly turned back, stood before the restaurant’s pastry counter for a moment, then returned carrying a delicate little silver paper box.
“What’s that?” Fu Songcheng glanced at the box.
“Salted cake.” Yu Huaiting shook the box in his hand. “This restaurant’s specialty—it’s savory. I really like it. Let you try it.”
“Thank you.” Fu Songcheng’s voice was gentle, his eyes softening a little too.
The two walked side by side down the corridor back to the rest area. Players occasionally hurried past, and some, seeing Yu Huaiting, instinctively took a detour.
But Yu Huaiting seemed utterly unconcerned with any of that. He chatted casually with Fu Songcheng about the dishes at the restaurant. Fu Songcheng occasionally answered a couple of words—not much, but the atmosphere was unusually harmonious.
Apart from the Avalon instance, it seemed they’d never gotten along this pleasantly before.
Until they stopped before Fu Songcheng’s rest room door.
Fu Songcheng opened the door and was about to step in—when his footsteps suddenly halted.
He stared dead at his room, the gentleness on his face visibly receding.
The window near the bedroom had completely vanished. The glass was shattered all over the floor, refracting harsh reflections under the room’s light.
Sharp glass shards had splattered across the entire room—on the floor, on the sofa, even in the water cup he’d left on the table.
Fu Songcheng’s breathing stopped for a second, blood rushing to his head.
It took him zero seconds to guess the culprit.
He could even picture how Yu Huaiting had brutally smashed the glass and vaulted into his room.
“What’s wrong? What are you spacing out for? Not going in?”
Behind him, Yu Huaiting hadn’t noticed the terrifying low pressure radiating from Fu Songcheng.
Chuckling, carrying that exquisite box of salted cake, he took a step forward.
Bang!
Before Yu Huaiting could get a word out, Fu Songcheng whipped around, grabbed the metal door, and slammed it shut!
With a huge crash, the door closed in Yu Huaiting’s face, shutting him completely outside.
Yu Huaiting froze for two seconds, the cake box still in his hand. His brain took a full three seconds to reboot and process what had just happened.
An indescribable frenzy and fury instantly erupted from his chest, rushing straight to the top of his head!
“Fuck! Fu Songcheng! What the hell is wrong with you!!”
Yu Huaiting roared furiously. He raised his fist and, without holding anything back, smashed it hard into the solid metal door panel!
Thud!
The whole corridor seemed to tremble from the blow. A shallow dent was smashed into the door panel.
Yu Huaiting’s chest heaved with rage.
He didn’t understand—he really didn’t! Things had been fine just now, they’d eaten together, they’d even packed a cake—how had this man turned on him in the blink of an eye!
“Open the door! You get out here and explain! Where the hell did I offend you this time?!”
Yu Huaiting roared outside the door, his throat straining, like an enraged lion wanting nothing more than to rip this door apart.
Inside, dead silence.
A full half minute passed before, through the thick metal panel, Fu Songcheng’s voice faintly emerged.
The voice carried a raw anger: “You broke into my rest room, smashed my window, made a complete mess of my room—and now you’re standing outside my door asking what’s wrong with me?”
Yu Huaiting choked on that ice-cold counter-question. The hand raised for a second punch froze midair.
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