CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: RICE PLANTING MAYHEM

The cast followed the director out of the villa, the morning sun warm and deceptively gentle. The path curved behind the storage shed, and the farther they walked, the more suspicious details appeared.

A pair of crew members hurried past carrying rubber boots.

Another rolled a cart stacked with gloves and woven baskets.

Someone was spraying mosquito repellent like holy water.

They had all dressed more practically today. Loose shirts, rolled sleeves, comfortable pants. Not a single high heel or delicate accessory in sight. Experience was the best teacher.

By now, they understood a simple truth: vanity was expendable, but survival was not.

After yesterday’s chicken fiasco, no one dared to wear anything they weren’t prepared to ruin.

Even Sun Qiaolian was in sneakers, Wu Shiyun had waterproof makeup tucked in her pocket, and Shen Xiyu, usually polished to perfection, had traded his Italian-crafted leather shoes for something far more practical.

Wu Shiyun’s sixth sense immediately began screaming.

"This is bad," she whispered.

An Ning hummed lightly, as if already entertained. "Depends on your definition."

Shen Xiyu merely looked exhausted.

Jiang Shuyue slowed her steps. "Why... why does it smell like mud?"

Then they heard it.

A distant splash.

A soft squelching.

The unmistakable sound of something pulling free from very deep, very sticky earth.

Zhou Zhenyu blinked. "Why does it sound like someone losing a shoe?"

The director stopped at the edge of a small slope and gestured grandly.

"Everyone, please look ahead."

They looked.

A sprawling rice field stretched before them, muddy water reflecting the sun, rows half-planted, tools sticking out like abandoned weapons.

Wu Shiyun felt her soul leave her body.

"No," she breathed. "Absolutely not."

The director smiled like a man who enjoyed suffering.

"Welcome," he said cheerfully, "to your first morning mission: planting rice."

A horrified silence spread across the cast. Even the breeze seemed to hesitate, unsure if it should keep blowing in the face of such despair.

The farmers in the clip moved with effortless precision, their hands dipping and placing seedlings in perfect rhythm, knees bending like seasoned warriors of the field.

The cast went silent.

Wu Shiyun whispered, "Why do they make it look easy?"

Jiang Shuyue looked genuinely alarmed.

Sun Qiaolian’s smile strained in place.

Shen Xiyu stared at the screen with the blankness of a man reconsidering his life choices.

By the time the thirty-second clip ended, one truth had crystallised among the cast: They were about to embarrass themselves on national television.

And the mud had not even touched their shoes yet.

Before anyone could fully process their impending doom, something small and round drifted lazily into An Ning’s peripheral vision.

The little melon floated beside her ear, glowing faintly with gossipy excitement.

"Host, host! Fresh morning tea!" he whispered, vibrating like a delighted spirit. "Jiang Shuyue slept like a pampered princess on the bed... and Sun Qiaolian squeezed herself onto the tiny couch like a dried shrimp."

An Ning didn’t look at him, but her brow lifted ever so slightly. Her mood was made even better by this new tea.

The little melon continued gleefully. "Jiang Shuyue hinted she didn’t like someone sleeping next to her, so Sun Qiaolian, ever the picture of gentle consideration, volunteered herself onto the couch like a loyal side character."

An Ning’s lips twitched.

"The couch was so tiny she couldn’t even turn over. Sun Qiaolian probably didn’t sleep a wink," the little melon cackled. "Imagine waking up to see Jiang Shuyue knocked out like a well-fed kitten on the bed you gave up. Tragic."

An Ning let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh.

"So Jiang Shuyue slept like a princess," she said, "and Sun Qiaolian turned herself into a decorative cushion. No wonder she looks exhausted today."

Her fingers tapped lightly against her arm, amusement flickering in her eyes. "A perfect pair, isn’t it? Sun Qiaolian and Shen Xiyu."

The little melon twirled in the air, delighted. "Exactly! One didn’t lift a finger yesterday and still slept like royalty. While the other lay awake half the night, trading her rest for a chance to stay in Jiang Shuyue’s good graces."

An Ning looked ahead at the rice field where the director was still smiling like an executioner preparing his tools.

*****

Wu Shiyun inhaled deeply, trying very hard to calm herself down. Unfortunately, the more she breathed, the clearer her thoughts became, and clarity was not her friend.

Honestly, what was she doing here?

Once upon a time, she thought Shen Xiyu might be "good enough."

They came from similar backgrounds, attended the same endless charity balls, and knew the same boring businessmen uncles. He had even helped her once at a banquet by rescuing her from a group of aunties trying to interrogate her career prospects. For thirty seconds, she had briefly entertained the idea that he might be her knight in shining armour.

How young and foolish she had been.

Back then, everyone around her was getting engaged or married, one after another, like it was some kind of limited-time sale. She thought maybe she should marry too. Maybe Shen Xiyu was the safe, convenient choice.

But after yesterday’s chicken chase, watching him suffer in Room Type D, and now being marched toward a muddy rice field like condemned peasants...

Her entire worldview had quietly rearranged itself.

She now realised one essential truth:

Men were not that important.

Especially not important enough to wade into mud for.

She looked at Shen Xiyu again.

Still tired.

Still mildly miserable.

Nope.

If she ever married, it would be someone truly on her level.

Someone with actual capability.

Someone who would not collapse at the first sign of poultry.

Until then, her biggest love would remain herself.

And her dry boots.

*****

The director clapped his hands once, far too cheerfully for someone about to ruin several expensive outfits.

"Alright, everyone. Pair up. Each pair will be assigned a section of the field. Cooperation is key. Success will depend on how well you work together."

The cast stared at him.

The director’s smile widened.