CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: OPERATION: CHICKENS — THE FINAL CLUCK

It went without saying that An Ning and Chen Yiming snagged first place in the competition—catching all twelve chickens in the coop with calm precision.

Coming in a close second were Sun Qiaolian and Zhou Zhenyu. Of course, it wasn’t exactly teamwork—it was more like Sun Qiaolian offering praise and commentary while Zhou Zhenyu did all the heavy lifting.

Meanwhile, Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu tied with Wu Shiyun and Zhao Guangyao—though for very different reasons.

The former had been all about Jiang Shuyue giving instructions from a safe distance—pointing out where the chickens were, how Shen Xiyu should approach them—without ever showing the slightest intention of stepping into the coop herself.

The latter... well, they’d spent most of the challenge running from their chickens rather than catching them. But credit where it was due—at least Wu Shiyun had stepped into the coop.

By the time the final whistle blew, everyone looked like they’d survived a small-scale disaster rather than a light-hearted country challenge.

Feathers littered the ground.

Someone’s hat had gone missing.

And Zhao Guangyao was still in the middle of defending his "tactical retreat," insisting it had been a calculated move rather than sheer panic.

The director, however, was radiant. He clapped his hands once, the sound slicing through the farmyard noise. "Excellent work, everyone! That’s what I call television magic!"

The production assistant—armed with a clipboard and a sigh that could flatten mountains, began reading off the tallied scores.

"First place—An Ning and Chen Yiming, with twelve chickens."

There was polite applause from the others, the kind that said we hate that we have to clap but we’ll do it anyway.

An Ning inclined her head graciously, while Chen Yiming merely nodded—looking exactly like the sort of man who treated poultry catching as a surgical procedure.

[They didn’t just win—they dominated 😭]

[Professionalism at its finest. Give them lab coats 💀]

[The only pair who made this look like an actual skill.]

"Second place," the assistant continued, "Sun Qiaolian and Zhou Zhenyu, with nine."

Sun Qiaolian smiled serenely, brushing a speck of dust off her sleeve. "All credit goes to Zhenyu. I merely offered moral support."

Zhou Zhenyu, still catching his breath, gave a faint smile that could only be translated as: I’m never doing this again.

[Tell me he’s re-evaluating life choices 😭]

[She’s soft-launching him as background furniture 💀]

[This man has known peace and lost it today.]

"Tied for third place," the assistant finished, "Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu, Wu Shiyun and Zhao Guangyao—with three each."

Jiang Shuyue’s smile didn’t even waver. "Teamwork isn’t just about results—it’s about understanding," she said smoothly.

Shen Xiyu nodded beside her, giving the camera his best polite-young-master expression.

Across the field, Wu Shiyun looked personally betrayed by reality. "Three chickens?" she exclaimed. "Do you know how many times I screamed?"

Zhao Guangyao grimaced. "Rough estimate? Every fifteen seconds."

The crew snorted. Even the cameraman’s shoulders shook.

The director scribbled furiously in his notebook, humming to himself. "Excellent. We’ve got panic, pride, and partnership. Range! It’s all about range."

His assistant gave him a long look. "And romance?"

The director grinned, teeth flashing. "Romance can wait. For now—this, my friend, is art."

The moment the director declared it art, the cast collectively exchanged looks that said they weren’t sure what kind of art required trauma and feathers.

An Ning quietly wondered if "art" now included collective suffering.

The director’s grin widened. "And now," he said dramatically, "before everyone sprints off for showers—our tie for third place must be resolved!"

Every head turned.

Jiang Shuyue blinked. "Resolved?"

"Of course!" the director said, as though this were obvious. "We can’t rank you properly without a clear winner. It’s about fairness, balance—narrative symmetry!"

"Ratings," muttered the assistant.

"Exactly!" the director said brightly.

He clapped once, and a staff member wheeled over a basket filled with—because fate had a sense of humour—two chickens.

"Each team will catch one. Fastest wins third place."

Wu Shiyun stared at the basket as if she’d been personally betrayed by destiny. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Zhao Guangyao tried to look encouraging. "Think of it as... revenge."

"On who? The chicken?"

"Exactly."

Across from them, Jiang Shuyue adjusted her hair calmly. "Let’s make this quick," she said to Shen Xiyu. "I don’t plan to sweat again."

Shen Xiyu exhaled slowly, visibly restraining himself. It wasn’t as if Jiang Shuyue had done much in the first round—unless one counted bossing him around as a sport.

[She said: speedrun elegance 😭]

[Wu Shiyun’s trauma arc continues 💀]

[Round 2: The Cluckening 🐔🔥]

The whistle blew.

Jiang Shuyue gestured gracefully, like she was directing a photoshoot. Shen Xiyu stepped forward—but the chicken darted left, then right, and vanished under the coop fence.

Meanwhile, Wu Shiyun—fueled by sheer indignation and possibly residual fear—lunged without hesitation.

If anyone had asked her later, she would’ve said she didn’t even think—she simply moved.

This was the first time in her life she’d wanted something this badly—and that something happened to be a chicken.

It wasn’t as though she could count on Zhao Guangyao, either.

At this point, she could only thank the gods that he didn’t get in her way.

One startled cluck, one triumphant shout later—she emerged victorious, chicken in hand, feathers in hair, pride blazing

"Got it!" she yelled.

The crew erupted in cheers and laughter. Even the assistant looked faintly impressed.

[She finally conquered her mortal enemy 😭🐔]

Zhao Guangyao tried to pat her shoulder in congratulations and nearly got pecked for it.

The director threw both arms up. "Now that is character development!"

Wu Shiyun glared, panting. "I’m not doing this again."

"Of course not," the assistant said, deadpan. "You’ve earned third place—and a room upgrade."

At that, Wu Shiyun straightened immediately. "Wait, what?"

The assistant consulted his clipboard. "Per rules: first place chooses first, second chooses second, third chooses third. Fourth gets whatever’s left."

Zhao Guangyao grinned. "See? Worth it."

She stared at him, feathers still stuck in her hair, annoyance sharpening her tone. "If the room doesn’t have hot water, I’m throwing you back in the coop."

[Power move. Chicken-slaying heroine energy 💅🔥]