CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: OF VICTORY AND COMEBACK

Dinner turned out far better than An Ning had expected. Of course, winning first place in fish catching had everything to do with it, but even so, the meal was comfortably within her standards.

She ate with quiet satisfaction, the tender fish and fragrant vegetables reminding her that sometimes hard work genuinely paid off. Especially when that hard work involved watching other people scream.

There were not only fish dishes, but also chicken, pork, and even a surprisingly well-seasoned stew. Under normal circumstances, An Ning would have taken a few polite bites and called it a day.

But today? Today she ate without guilt.

After all, she knew she would burn it all off tomorrow. This production team clearly had no intention of letting anyone rest in peace.

Across from her, the contrast was immediate.

Wu Shiyun was enjoying her food. Under normal circumstances, she would have found at least three things to complain about — seasoning, presentation, or the faintly rustic plating.

But tonight? She simply wanted to eat the fish she caught in peace.

The flavour wasn’t just good. It was triumphant. Victory, apparently, tasted like mild salt, tender flesh and the quiet satisfaction of not being last place for once.

Every bite seemed to restore a fragment of her shattered dignity.

Chen Yiming, seated beside her, watched cautiously as she took her third piece of fish. "You are eating quite well."

"Of course I am," Wu Shiyun said primly. "I caught this fish."

"That was only after you screamed at the first one," he reminded.

She stabbed her chopsticks into her bowl. "Growth is not linear."

Chen Yiming wisely said nothing as he compared their food portion to An Ning and Zhou Zhenyu’s.

Chen Yiming wisely said nothing as he compared their food portion to An Ning and Zhou Zhenyu’s. The difference was... obvious.

First place: An Ning & Zhou Zhenyu

Their plates looked like a promotional image for "Rustic Countryside Fine Dining."

Generous slices of fish glistened invitingly.

Chicken and pork were arranged neatly, and the scent drifted upward in warm, savoury waves that could make even a weary soul feel revitalised.

Even their vegetables had the vibrant colour of ingredients that knew they belonged to winners.

Second place: Chen Yiming & Wu Shiyun

Reasonable.

Respectable.

Nutritious.

But undeniably... less.

A modest serving of fish, a sensible portion of meat, and vegetables that had clearly been measured with the caution of someone managing a limited budget.

Wu Shiyun pretended not to notice the disparity. Chen Yiming pretended even harder.

Third place: Zhao Guangyao & Sun Qiaolian

Their plates looked like the chef had tried, gotten tired, and then said "good enough."

One small piece of fish that seemed to apologise for its size.

A ladle of stew containing more broth than ingredients.

Vegetables that appeared in fleeting amounts.

Sun Qiaolian held her gentle smile with grace.

Zhao Guangyao looked genuinely offended on a spiritual level.

Fourth place: Jiang Shuyue & Shen Xiyu

Tragedy, plated.

A thin sliver of fish that looked more decorative than edible.

Soup water with delusions of grandeur.

Three isolated vegetable pieces that appeared to be contemplating their brief existence.

Even their chopsticks hesitated, as if unsure whether to attempt the meal or offer condolences.

The hierarchy of dinner had never been clearer nor more edible.

But the production team still had a tiny ounce of conscience left, allowing Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu unlimited rice refills.

It was the only mercy they received.

Sun Qiaolian, ever the kind and bright presence, leaned over with a gentle smile.

"If you two want, we can share our dishes."

A very gracious offer.

Unfortunately, it was also the exact moment Zhao Guangyao’s survival instincts kicked in.

The instant he heard the words "share our food," he swiftly picked out the best parts from their shared plates—the largest slice of fish, the tenderest bit of chicken, the caramelised edge of pork—and placed them neatly onto his own bowl.

All within three seconds.

Sun Qiaolian blinked.

Her plate, previously modest, was now tragically bare.

Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu stared at the scene, then slowly looked back at Sun Qiaolian.

"...We’re fine," Jiang Shuyue said gently, as though comforting her.

Shen Xiyu nodded with the gravity of a sage. "Very fine."

The livestream erupted instantly.

[NOT ZHAO SPEEDRUNNING SELFISHNESS]

[He waited until she OFFERED then STOLE THE FOOD HELPPP]

[Qiaolian’s kindness: wasted]

[Shuyue rejecting the charity because the charity has nothing left]

[Guangyao is really building a villain arc]

[Honestly, I cannot stop laughing]

[But no one sees this as an issue? Sun Qiaolian didn’t even bother asking Zhao Guangyao if he is willing to share]

Sun Qiaolian kept her elegant smile in place, though it was starting to look a bit strained.

Across the table, An Ning calmly picked up another piece of fish from her abundantly filled plate, her expression serene.

"This dinner," she said softly as she almost laughed, "is very....drama-filled"

The little melon hovered at her shoulder, practically glowing. "You are not wrong."

Dinner continued with uneven enthusiasm.

An Ning ate at a steady, composed pace. Zhou Zhenyu finished his portion neatly, as if reviewing a quiet checklist in his mind. Wu Shiyun, buoyed by victory and protein, looked almost reborn. Chen Yiming kept sanitising his hands between bites, but at least he was eating.

Meanwhile, down the table...

Sun Qiaolian valiantly pretended her half-empty plate still resembled a proper meal.

Zhao Guangyao pretended not to notice that everyone had noticed him.

Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu pretended they were not traumatised by fish.

It was an impressive collective effort.

The atmosphere gradually settled into a fatigued peace, the kind that followed shared hardship and mutual suffering. Conversations mellowed into soft murmurs. Chopsticks clinked gently. Someone sighed with deep, exhausted sincerity.

Finally, when the plates were mostly cleared and spirits had stabilised, the director stood, hands clasped behind his back like a benevolent tyrant.

"Everyone," he said with a smile far too bright for the hour, "rest well tonight. Tomorrow’s mission will be even more exciting."

Several hearts dropped in unison.

The director lifted his teacup in a small toast.

"Sleep early."

He left the dining area.

The silence he left behind was heavy and unanimous.

An Ning dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

"I suppose," she murmured, "we should prepare."

The little melon bobbed gleefully at her shoulder.

"Ningning, I have a feeling tomorrow will be chaotic."

She regarded him calmly, then rose to her feet.

"Good," she said. "Chaos tends to favour me."

Around her, the cast slowly pushed back their chairs, each wearing the expression of someone silently asking the universe for mercy.

And thus, dinner ended.

Not in comfort, but in quiet dread for the next day’s trials.

Perfect fuel for reality TV.

*****

The director was on a call with someone, and his smile was radiant to say the least. Yet if anyone knew who he was speaking to, they would not judge him for it.

After all, it was not every day that one had the chance to speak with the

national sweetheart. Or rather, the former national sweetheart, who had retired at the peak of her career to get married.

The director nodded eagerly at whatever was being said on the other end, his expression shifting from delight to awe to something dangerously close to worship.

"Yes, yes, of course. We would be honoured. Absolutely, the team can make any arrangements you need. Yes, the cast will be thrilled."

Thrilled was a generous description.

If the news leaked prematurely, half the internet would implode, the other half would resurrect itself just to scream, and the cast, already barely hanging on by emotional duct tape, would likely lose their remaining composure.

Because she was not just any celebrity.

She was the celebrity.

The face of every major endorsement for five consecutive years.

The actress who could sell out a drama on name alone.

The public’s beloved sweetheart who had vanished suddenly from the industry, leaving behind rumours, heartbreak, and a legend no one seemed able to match.

And now, after years of silence, she was making a quiet return.

The director’s fingers twitched with excitement. The cast had no idea what was coming, and he could already imagine their reactions. Shock, disbelief, awe, maybe even a mild existential crisis. All perfectly camera-worthy.

This was not the kind of surprise that happened often.

This was the kind of surprise that made ratings soar.

He leaned back in his chair, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.

Her announcing her comeback on his dating show was nothing short of a miracle. A divine favour from the entertainment gods. A once-in-a-lifetime stroke of luck.

And all of it was thanks to the Shen Group.

She had signed with them only recently. A quiet, discreet contract that had not yet been made public. No leaks, no rumours, not even a whisper on the internet. The industry had no idea she was preparing to return.

When the news finally broke, it would detonate across social media.

But before that happened, she would appear here.

On this chaotic, half-romance, half-survival dating program.

Standing in front of eight unsuspecting cast members who were probably still traumatised from the mud and fish missions.

The director clasped his hands together, eyes glittering.

"This," he murmured to himself, "will revive the entire show."

He could already hear the gasps.

He could already picture the trending tags.

He could already see tomorrow’s headlines drafting themselves.

A comeback.

A surprise guest.

A top-tier goddess walking straight into their tiny rural filming village.

The director inhaled deeply, savouring the moment like fine wine.

The cast had survived mud.

They had survived fish.

Now they would face something far more dangerous.

A superstar.

And the cameras would be rolling.