Following behind Angela, Zhou Zhuang returned to the glass corridor above the company. The moment he saw the familiar path, he understood the "how" she hadn't bothered to explain.
They arrived at the Any-Door.
Staring at the door he'd used to leave the company for the first time, Zhou Zhuang felt a weird surge of nostalgia. It hadn't actually been that long since the last time—yet somehow, emotionally, it felt like weeks had passed.
While he was still spacing out, Angela had already walked to the control console beside the door and began operating it with a series of inputs Zhou Zhuang couldn't follow at all.
By the time Zhou Zhuang finally shuffled up to the door, Angela's adjustments were finished.
"Manager," she said calmly, "you can open it now."
Zhou Zhuang blinked, confused.
"Angela, what were you doing just now? And where are we going to eat barbecue?"
Angela explained in a matter-of-fact tone:
"Manager, I simply adjusted the door's search mechanism. I intelligently excluded locations that are non-human or anti-human in nature, as well as streets currently experiencing riots and gang shootouts. Then, from what remained, I selected the most suitable destination for your purpose: a night-market barbecue stall."
"Ohhh, I see."
Zhou Zhuang understood it in his own blunt way:
No Food District.Not inside a gang warzone.Not a "open the door and get monster-jumpscared" situation.
Reassured, he put a hand on the handle and slowly opened the door.
The instant it cracked open, a wave of sound and smell poured through:
Loud vendor calls.Crowd noise.And that ultra-familiar scent—oil smoke mixed with street snacks.
He pushed the door fully open.
A lively street scene exploded into view: bright lights, stalls packed along both sides, the whole road crowded and bustling—as if the absence of daylight earlier meant absolutely nothing to these people.
Zhou Zhuang was so moved he theatrically wiped at the corner of his eye, even though there weren't actually any tears.
"It's back… the familiar vibe is back."
Angela, noticing he'd been standing in the doorway like a statue, reminded him politely:
"Manager, please step aside so I can pass."
"Huh? Oh—oh, right."
Zhou Zhuang hurried forward a few steps to stop blocking the entrance.
Angela came through, closed the Any-Door behind them, and spoke to the still-dazed Zhou Zhuang:
"Manager, please follow me to the barbecue stall not far from here—where you will treat me to barbecue."
Zhou Zhuang flashed an OK sign and followed.
They arrived at a street-side barbecue stall.
Behind it stood an older man with a standard-issue longsword strapped to his back. He was seasoning ingredients over glowing charcoal, and thin white smoke rose in curling streams with every practiced movement.
The man's face had a long scar running across the eye area.
Zhou Zhuang asked:
"Sir, what kinds of barbecue do you have?"
The man didn't even lift his head—he just pointed at a large refrigerator behind him, telling Zhou Zhuang to check for himself.
Seeing the vendor busy, Zhou Zhuang didn't disturb him further. He led Angela to an empty table, asked what she wanted—
And, as expected:
"Whatever the Manager orders is fine."
So Zhou Zhuang ended up alone at the fridge, staring at unfamiliar cuts of meat like he'd been asked to solve advanced mathematics.
Some pieces were even dotted with faint "blood-jelly" specks—fresh, probably slaughtered today.
But the real problem wasn't freshness.
It was:
What the hell do I pick?
He leaned back and glanced toward Angela—she was carefully wiping down the table and chairs with napkins.
Zhou Zhuang decided not to interrupt her. Since the glass made details hard to see, he opened the fridge door to get a clearer look.
He randomly grabbed a piece that looked kind of like chicken and was still trying to confirm whether it was "normal chicken"—
When a deep voice suddenly spoke right by his ear.
"This customer—if you're going to choose, please choose quickly. Leaving the fridge open this long wastes electricity."
Zhou Zhuang jolted so hard his hand slipped.
The raw meat slid out of his palm toward the floor—
But the vendor's reaction was lightning-fast.
He drew a bamboo skewer from his waist and stabbed upward, neatly catching the falling meat midair before it hit the ground.
He placed it back in its basket, then stared at Zhou Zhuang, now clearly free enough to talk.
Zhou Zhuang immediately lit up like a drowning man spotting a lifeboat.
"Ah—sir, sorry… Could you introduce what kinds of meat you have?"
The vendor's brows tightened into a sharp frown.
"Hm? Do I look that old?"
Zhou Zhuang heard irritation in the tone and quickly reassessed.
White-streaked hair.Wrinkled skin.Only his eyes looked unusually sharp and fierce.
But… this was the City.
For all Zhou Zhuang knew, this guy might be eight years old and just "aged aggressively."
So he tested a safer address.
"…Big bro?"
The vendor burst into cheerful laughter.
"It's fine, it's fine—I was just joking. You can still call me 'old man.'"
Realizing it had been a prank, Zhou Zhuang gave a few awkward pity-laughs to match.
"Old man… your jokes are… really stylish."
The vendor chuckled.
"Right? My granddaughter's idea. She said, 'Grandpa, joke more—helps you catch a few repeat customers.'"
Zhou Zhuang thought to himself:
Repeat customers, I don't know. But I almost died of fright—your mysterious genius granddaughter.
The vendor remembered the earlier question and continued:
"Anyway, kid—didn't you say you don't recognize the meats in there? I've got a full range. You name it, I'll pull it out for you."
Zhou Zhuang's eyes lit up.
"Oh? Perfect. Then give me four portions of chicken breast, twenty skewers of frog, thirty skewers of lamb, four orders of chives, and one grilled eggplant. That should do for now—if it's not enough, I'll add more later."
As Zhou Zhuang listed items, the old man pulled them out one by one—efficiently. By the time Zhou Zhuang finished, the old man was done too.
"Alright, kid. That's everything, yeah? I'll start grilling. You and your pretty girlfriend sit for a bit—won't take long."
Zhou Zhuang made an OK sign, then walked back toward Angela.
....
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