My Ex-Boyfriend Became the Back of My Car - Chapter 2

“What the hell?” Tang Zhou’s hand slipped, then he reached out again to touch the car, the icy sensation jolting him. Only then did it dawn on him—Feng Cang had turned into a car. He let go and patted his chest, exasperated. “Are you out of your mind? I asked you for a solution, and this is what you come up with? Don’t forget, we’re not close anymore.”

Feng Cang watched as Tang Zhou bristled, his ears tinged red, his voice flat as if discussing the weather. “I’ve been bound to a love system. The only way to return to my body is by completing its tasks.

Mr. Tang, as my ex-boyfriend, can you really stand by and watch me marry someone else?” Tang Zhou couldn’t stay calm after hearing that. How could someone have the nerve to say such a thing?

He glared. “Mr. Feng, you said it yourself—ex-boyfriend, not current boyfriend. Of course, I can. After all, someone here already has a fiancée. And besides, I have standards. Don’t bother me.”

“What a coincidence. I have standards too—I don’t accept just anyone. As for the fiancée, we’re not close. In my current state, aside from you, Mr. Tang, who wouldn’t mind, I can’t guarantee how others would react.”

Feng Cang wasn’t surprised Tang Zhou knew about his fiancée. After their inexplicable breakup, his grandfather stubbornly arranged one for him. It annoyed him endlessly, but he couldn’t risk upsetting the old man’s health, so he reluctantly agreed.

“If you won’t help me, Mr. Tang, my vast family fortune will—” Tang Zhou cut him off. “Stop right there. Don’t give me that spiel. Just tell me—are there any other options?”

Feng Cang fell silent. There were, but he didn’t want Tang Zhou in danger. Still, he spoke. “Mr. Tang, you know I ended up like this because of a car accident. So, this love system could also be called an accident prevention system—meant to stop the crash from happening. But if it fails, it could cost lives. Are you sure?”

Tang Zhou patted the car. “You looking down on me? I wasn’t raised to be scared off. My driving skills are way better than some people’s.” Then he grabbed the keys, opened the door, and slid inside, fishing out his custom license plate before striding to the headlights. “Open your car eyes wide and see this—me, Tang Zhou, a veteran driver of ten years. Top-notch.”

Feng Cang mercilessly called him out. “Minors aren’t allowed to drive. Where’d those extra six years come from? Were you driving at eleven? And never got caught by traffic police? I have to say, Mr. Tang, you’re impressive.”

Tang Zhou stuffed the plate away and scrambled back into the car, slamming the door shut. “Who cares how old I was when I started driving? Piss me off, and I’ll report you. Let the guys in white coats take you away for experiments. Then I’ll make a fortune.”

Feng Cang chuckled. “You wouldn’t. Besides, if you married me, what’s mine would be yours. That’s faster and far more profitable than turning me in.”

Tang Zhou gripped the steering wheel tightly, running his hands over it like he’d never seen a car before. “Forget marriage. A good horse doesn’t return to old grass. Just tell me what I need to do.” Seeing Tang Zhou act like a kid with a new toy, Feng Cang couldn’t resist teasing. “Mr. Tang, stop touching. Any more and things might get heated.” His voice was low and rough, as if suppressing something. Tang Zhou suddenly noticed the temperature inside the car rising.

Logically, it shouldn’t be hot—it was late at night, and it was raining. Suddenly, as if his butt was on fire, Tang Zhou bolted out the door in a flash. Now that Feng Cang had become his car, didn’t that mean he’d just been acting like a pervert earlier? What kind of absurd situation was this?

Tang Zhou cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… can you disable the tactile feedback? I still need this car for work, you know?”

Feng Cang replied, “Of course. My apologies, Mr. Tang. This is my first time controlling a vehicle—still getting used to it.” In truth, he was already familiar with it. He just wanted to see Tang Zhou’s reaction, never expecting it to be so dramatic.

“Mr. Tang, I’ve disabled it now. You can come back in—it’s windy outside.” Tang Zhou waved him off. “This is fine. I’m afraid someone might lose control again.”

Feng Cang’s tone carried regret. “Very well then.” Then he adopted a serious tone: “Mr. Tang, you just need to bind with me by dripping a drop of blood on the car. That’s all.” Hearing this, Tang Zhou asked, “It’s that simple?” Feng Cang confirmed. Without further questions, Tang Zhou raised his hand and tried biting his finger like characters in movies. But after much gnawing, he couldn’t even break the skin. Seeing this, Feng Cang chuckled lightly. “There’s a needle in the car. Would you like it?”

Tang Zhou shook his head silently and continued grinding his finger with his little canine tooth. Finally, his persistence paid off. He shook his finger triumphantly, squeezed out a drop of blood, and let it fall onto the car. Instantly, a mechanical voice sounded in his mind.

Ding! Hello, Host. Welcome to the system. I am 98998.

Tang Zhou couldn’t help but complain upon hearing the name. “Mr. Feng, you didn’t even bother naming your system?” Feng Cang replied indifferently, “A name is just an identifier. If you dislike it, Mr. Tang, you can give it one.”

After some thought, Tang Zhou said, “Let’s call it Little Nine. Simple and nice.” Then, ignoring Feng Cang, he began exploring the system on his own before concluding, “There’s nothing special about this! Other systems can communicate with people. Why can ours only answer questions, issue tasks, and show progress? It doesn’t do anything else.”

Hearing Tang Zhou say “our system,” Feng Cang’s headlights flickered slightly as he murmured, “Perhaps our system is overloaded—its core isn’t powerful enough. After all, no other system handles romance missions, prevents car accidents… or maybe it’s just defective.”

The sudden flash of light startled Tang Zhou, who snapped, “Mr. Feng, can you control that? Warn me before turning on the lights next time. That glare was blinding!” Seeing Tang Zhou puff up like an angry steamed bun, Feng Cang’s voice turned apologetic. “Sorry, Mr. Tang. First time being a car—still adjusting.” Tang Zhou deflated instantly, eyeing the cold metal before him. “Fine, I won’t hold it against you.” After all, it was pitiful enough that a living person had turned into a car.

Just then, a hand landed on his shoulder. Tang Zhou jumped and turned to see Shaoyan, immediately relaxing.

“Yanyan, what are you doing here?”

“Your voice sounded off on the phone, so I came right away,” Shaoyan explained, glancing around before reaching up to feel Tang Zhou’s forehead. “No fever… Tangtang, did something happen? Why are you talking to yourself in a parking lot so late at night? You look terrible.”

Tang Zhou grabbed Shaoyan’s hand and shook it, glancing at Feng Cang out of the corner of his eye as he brushed it off, “I just got played, you know? Besides driving, you know I also do freelance illustration.”

“A few days ago, I took on a commission. I worked day and night, revising it over and over until the client was finally satisfied. But when it came time to pay, they suddenly backed out and demanded a refund—even threatened to sue me if I didn’t comply. Can you believe the nerve of some people? How could I not be furious?”

“What?” Shaoyan gasped, indignant. “What kind of person does that? That’s just vile! Ugh, next time you get a difficult client like that, just refuse the job. No point putting up with that kind of nonsense.”

Tang Zhou patted Shaoyan’s shoulder. “Alright, alright, don’t get worked up. People like that are just part of the job. Thanks for coming all this way, by the way. But hey, Yan Yan, are you feeling any better now?”

Shaoyan gave Tang Zhou a bear hug, instantly revitalized. “I’m much better. Like you said, my idol has heaven’s favor—they’ll be fine. There’s no use in me worrying myself sick over nothing. It just adds to the stress and makes others worry too.” Then, suddenly, he shivered. Shaoyan hunched his shoulders and glanced around furtively, as if expecting something.

Noticing this, Tang Zhou asked, “Yan Yan, what’s wrong?” Shaoyan quickly replied, “Tang Tang, I feel like someone’s watching me from the shadows—and blasting cold air at me! Do you think there’s really a ghost here?”

Tang Zhou’s eyes flicked toward Feng Cang. “Ghosts don’t exist. You’re just scaring yourself. It’s getting colder at night, it’s raining, and you’re not dressed warmly enough—of course you’re cold.”

Shaoyan rubbed his arms. “Yeah, you’re right. Tang Tang, since everything’s fine, I’ll head back now. You should go upstairs too. It’s late—better not wander around at this hour.”

Tang Zhou waved him off. “Got it. You head back first.” Once Shaoyan was gone, Tang Zhou turned and crouched down, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Mr. Feng, do you enjoy staring at people that much?” Feng Cang hadn’t been able to help himself after seeing how close they were—he hadn’t expected Tang Zhou to be so perceptive. “Mr. Tang, you flatter me. I can only look straight ahead—it’s not like I can turn around. I’d love to, but I wouldn’t want to scare your ghost-fearing friend.” He emphasized the word “ghost” pointedly. Tang Zhou rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a ghost yourself, Mr. Feng? A ghost wearing a car’s skin?”

Feng Cang choked, then let out a soft laugh after a pause. “That’s an… interesting description. I’ve heard of human skin, animal skin—but ‘car skin’ is a first.” Ignoring him, Tang Zhou checked the time—it was already 10 p.m. “Mr. Feng, one last question.” Seeing Tang Zhou’s serious expression, Feng Cang sobered up. “Go ahead.”

“Since we’re bound together now, can you speak directly into my mind?” Feng Cang sighed regretfully. “I wish. It’d make communication much easier. But unfortunately, reality doesn’t allow it.”

As Tang Zhou opened his mouth to speak, Feng Cang added, “No one else can hear me except you, so your privacy is safe. You can rest assured about that, Mr. Tang. If you need to reach me, just message me on WeChat.” Tang Zhou clicked his tongue. “So, it’s like having an extra friend—except this friend isn’t human.” Feng Cang was silent for a moment. “You could put it that way.” Mentioning WeChat reminded Tang Zhou of something, and his eyes blazed with anger. “Now that you bring it up, I still have a score to settle with you!”

“What score?” Feng Cang asked, puzzled. “The score of you blocking and deleting me!” Tang Zhou bit out each word. Hearing this, Feng Cang immediately retorted with a pitiful expression, “When did I ever block or delete you? Clearly, it was you.”

Seeing Feng Cang not only deny it but also shift the blame, Tang Zhou promptly took out his phone, opened the chat interface, and shoved it in front of the car, even helpfully zooming in so Feng Cang could see clearly.

“Mr. Feng, take a good look. I have proof right here. Are you still going to deny it?” He remembered that day vividly—it happened to be his birthday. The night before, Feng Cang had promised him a surprise the next day. What a surprise it turned out to be! Feng Cang froze. The bold letters “June 2nd” glared at him, followed by the breakup message he had supposedly sent and Tang Zhou’s unanswered questions.

So, Tang Zhou hadn’t sent that? Tang Zhou hadn’t wanted to break up with him? The thought looped endlessly in Feng Cang’s mind. It took him a long moment to find his voice again. “This isn’t simple, Zhou Zhou. Get back in the car. I’ll show you what you sent.” Hearing the gravity in his tone, Tang Zhou didn’t even notice the change in how Feng Cang addressed him and climbed back into the car. When he saw Feng Cang’s WeChat interface—the all-too-familiar profile picture and name—he couldn’t help but ask, “What the hell is going on?”

Feng Cang shook the steering wheel slightly, signaling his own confusion.

Tang Zhou lowered his gaze and tapped the screen. No matter how he looked at it, that message had come from him? This was beyond bizarre. Then he noticed the timestamp. He pulled out his own phone and checked. “Don’t you think the timing is off? Can you even send messages after being blocked and deleted?”

“No,” Feng Cang replied, then carefully compared the timestamps.

“The breakup message I supposedly sent you was at exactly 8:00 AM on June 2nd. Your questioning messages were sent at 9:00 AM—by which time you’d already been deleted. And the breakup message you supposedly sent me was also at exactly 9:00 AM. My follow-up questions came just a minute later, by which point you’d already deleted me too.”

Tang Zhou’s mind raced. “So, it’s like my 9:00 AM questions somehow turned into a breakup message? What kind of plot twist is this? My WeChat wasn’t hacked, was it? Do ghosts actually exist, or is our WeChat being monitored?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a thunderclap boomed, accompanied by crackling lightning. The parking lot lights abruptly went out.