Chapter 35: 035

At first glance, when Li Xingruo spotted Xi Tongyue, she thought she must still be half-asleep, lost in some dream.

It wasn’t until she noticed the usually level-headed Qin Yi standing frozen beside her in utter shock that she realized…

This wasn’t a dream!

It was real!

Xi Tongyue had come to take part in Man vs. Wild!

Li Xingruo tugged helplessly at Qin Yi’s arm, but her friend still hadn’t snapped out of it.

And who could blame Qin Yi for losing her composure?

Never mind Xi Tongyue’s face, which seemed like the goddess Nüwa herself had poured every ounce of perfection into crafting it.

Just the fact that at twenty-one, she’d swept five major awards—domestic and international—with a literary historical drama no one had high hopes for, becoming the youngest Five Golds Best Actress in history, was enough to leave anyone in awe.

And that was only the beginning. Ever since, she’d set an unmatched milestone at the peak of the acting world, one no one had surpassed in all these years.

In that drama, she unleashed a transcendent talent for performance, portraying a peerlessly radiant empress with lifelike precision—the way she purged corrupt officials, straightened the court, intimidated foreign foes, her every gesture radiating imperial authority, her eyes brimming with a gaze that dominated the heavens… Every scene had been enshrined in the Film Academy’s teaching materials.

But she didn’t rest on her laurels after those awards. Xi Tongyue maintained the highest standards in acting, crafting one iconic silver-screen role after another, as if there was no character she couldn’t bring to life. She became the legendary actress that top directors fought tooth and nail to cast.

Ever since Qin Yi enrolled in the Film Academy, her performance instructors never stopped name-dropping Xi Tongyue.

To her, Xi Tongyue was the most revered figure in her career.

For someone who was practically a deity to suddenly appear in the flesh—and all because she’d whimsically decided to join a variety show shoot—no one could have seen it coming.

Weren’t artists supposed to be aloof and above it all, turning down variety shows?

How had she descended from her pedestal without a word?

Seeing the two of them rooted to the spot, Xi Tongyue propped her chin on one hand and curved her lips in a faint smile, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Do I look that scary?”

Qin Yi and Li Xingruo hurriedly shook their heads in unison, composing themselves before greeting her together.

“Good morning, Teacher Xi.”

“Morning, Teacher Xi.”

They sounded just like students who’d bumped into a revered old professor in the campus hallway.

Though the “professor” before them was neither old nor stern—in fact, her smile was bewitchingly alluring, like some seductive sprite.

Even if that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, it still set hearts racing and cheeks aflame.

With the surrounding woods and bamboo house, the two of them could almost feel like the scholar from a ghost story who’d stumbled upon a mountain demon in the wilds.

With a beauty like this for company, that imperial exam…

Who needed it anyway!

Luckily, at that moment, Song Guiya returned with Chi Huo and Du Difeng, all three shouldering bamboo. The sight snapped them back to reality.

“What are you doing chopping so much bamboo first thing in the morning?” Li Xingruo glanced at the load on their shoulders, her face full of confusion.

“Making a bed for Teacher Xi,” Chi Huo said as he set his bamboo down and plopped onto the ground with a heavy breath. “Your hut’s short one bed, right? We can’t have Teacher Xi sleeping on the floor.”

“…” Li Xingruo’s brain had only just rebooted. She quickly pieced it together—Xi Tongyue was a guest on the show. Restraining herself, she avoided looking at Song Guiya, lest she accidentally let some odd expression slip and arouse suspicion.

Song Guiya and Xi Tongyue, however, exchanged a glance without reservation. The former’s face remained as impassive as ever, while the latter leaned against the doorframe, her eyes betraying no emotion.

Li Xingruo couldn’t help but admire them inwardly.

Not for nothing—the Movie Queen and her woman.

Song Guiya hadn’t slept a wink all night. At dawn, before Xi Tongyue woke, she’d grabbed a saw and headed out to fell some bamboo for a bed.

Chi Huo and Du Difeng were early risers too, and they’d run into her. Upon hearing Xi Tongyue was the new guest, their reactions mirrored Li Xingruo and Qin Yi’s. But knowing Song Guiya wasn’t one for pointless jokes, they immediately tagged along to help.

The bamboo house they were living in was built entirely from sturdy guibamboo. They’d thrown together the beds from leftover scraps at the time.

Sleeping on them wasn’t bad, just hard—even with a grass mat, they still dug uncomfortably into the back.

So Song Guiya had led the men farther out to gather plenty of hairy golden bamboo.

The best thing about this bamboo was its excellent pliability for splitting.

Once split into thin strips and woven into a netting fixed to a frame, it created something like a spring mattress—far more comfortable than just laying bamboo poles side by side.

The only downside was its limited weight capacity.

But Song Guiya knew Xi Tongyue’s weight inside and out; it would hold her with room to spare.

Chi Huo and Du Difeng didn’t notice Song Guiya’s hidden intentions. They simply assumed she had ventured farther afield because she was worried that chopping too much bamboo around the camp would make the area look unsightly.

To make up for it, Song Guiya specially added an extra steamed small fish to each of their breakfast portions.

Once breakfast had been distributed, everyone sat casually on the large rocks to eat.

Song Guiya glanced inadvertently at Xi Tongyue. She watched as Xi Tongyue brushed a stray lock of long hair from her chest behind her shoulder, revealing her fair and elegant neck. With one hand, she lifted a bamboo tube; with the other, she delicately pinched a pair of bamboo chopsticks. Her slender fingers gleamed with the luster of cold jade in the morning light.

Contrary to Song Guiya’s expectations of disdain, Xi Tongyue’s expression remained impassive. Her movements were graceful as she took small bites of the soft, glutinous sweet potatoes inside the bamboo tube.

It was a meal so simple it bordered on meager, yet she ate it with the refined air of dim sum at a high-end restaurant.

Song Guiya found this somewhat surprising.

Xi Tongyue had been raised in luxury from childhood, never tasting such rough fare. Even in this world, her every meal was prepared with exquisite care by “imperial chefs,” and she had never endured anything slipshod when it came to food.

Song Guiya had been a little concerned that she might not be accustomed to it. Unexpectedly, Xi Tongyue seemed to be savoring it with genuine relish.

Everyone who saw this let out an inward sigh.

What door had the heavens closed on Xi Tongyue? With her genius-level acting talent, mysterious family background, top-tier intellect and emotional intelligence, unparalleled charisma, and stunning beauty…

When they picked up their chopsticks again, the guests shed their earlier ravenous manners, displaying the polished demeanor expected of professional entertainers.

They had played the part of wild savages for so long that they had nearly reverted to primal instincts.

But they were stars—male and female celebrities!

In an instant, the chaotic scene of wild folk devouring their meal transformed into an impromptu etiquette class.

The dramatic shift sent the live stream viewers into fits of laughter.

At that moment, a turtle shell dropped abruptly “from the heavens” right in front of the guests.

All eyes turned to it. Its ancient, weathered patina underscored its significance.

Song Guiya shot a glance at the cameraman, Xiao Liu, who had stealthily tossed it from behind Chi Huo.

He offered an awkward smile and quietly withdrew.

Chi Huo played along perfectly, his face twisting in feigned terror. With trembling hands, he reached out and gingerly lifted the turtle shell.

A closer look revealed a string of eerie, arcane script etched into the turtle’s back. The front bore five bold pictograms: Tribal Leader · Moon.

Everyone: ?

What did this mean?

Was their tribe about to get a leader?

Was the leader Xi Tongyue?

Did they really need some battered old turtle shell to announce it?

Of course they did!

Chi Huo handed the token of authority to Xi Tongyue, and everyone resumed their breakfast.

Director Wang, watching from the monitor: ?

An airdropped leader!

A leader enjoyed countless privileges—no farming, no hunting. With a mere flick of the finger, the entire tribe would obey her command.

Faced with such temptation…

No one even put up a token resistance?

The live stream chat exploded: Hahahahaha.

“The tropes aren’t even refreshed? It worked every time before, but who’d you pick this round? That’s Xi Tongyue you’re dealing with.”

“The program crew got burned by Xi Tongyue last time and now thinks the guests will team up for a coup against the Xi regime? Gotta wonder what genius brain hatched this childish scheme.”

“Divide and conquer? Power grabs? Not happening. Before absolute strength, submission is the path to survival.”

“The director team just lost all credibility.”

“…”

After breakfast, Chi Huo and Du Difeng headed into the woods to set traps and catch some extra game to mark the leader’s inauguration.

Qin Yi’s injury left her sidelined, so Li Xingruo volunteered to handle the cleanup.

Song Guiya had her mind set on finishing the bed as quickly as possible.

As she rose to leave, Qin Yi suddenly stared at her neck. “Teacher Song, what happened to your neck? It’s bright red.”

Hearing this, Li Xingruo—who was cradling a stack of bamboo tubes—looked over as well. “You’re right, it’s really red. And there are two neat rows of marks, some deep, some shallow. How’d you get that?”

That morning, while washing up, Song Guiya had noticed a dull ache on her neck. Peering into the water’s surface, she discovered a fairly deep bite mark courtesy of Xi Tongyue—one that wouldn’t fade anytime soon.

Her beast-skin garment featured a short collar, and the thin cord securing her wolf fang pendant offered no coverage at all.

To preempt any awkward misunderstandings, while gathering bamboo earlier—and with the cameras momentarily averted—she had plucked a few rouge bugs from a cactus cluster, crushed them on her fingertip, and subtly dabbed the paste onto the bite mark.

The result? The red patch on her neck stood out even more prominently, but the tooth marks now blended seamlessly into it, resembling nothing so much as an allergic rash.

Song Guiya paused for a moment, her expression unchanging as she said, “Maybe I got bitten by bugs last night and had an allergic reaction.”

At those words, the true culprit—who had been watching with keen interest to see how Song Guiya would talk her way out of it—went dark in the face and strode off toward the open clearing where the bamboo was stacked.

Li Xingruo put on a picture of pure innocence and asked in bewilderment, “What’s gotten into Teacher Xi? She seems kind of upset.”

Qin Yi shook her head, saying she had no idea.

Song Guiya muttered an “oh no” under her breath. “I’ll go help Teacher Xi with the bamboo bed,” she said.

With that, she hurried after her.

By the time Song Guiya reached the clearing, Xi Tongyue’s face had smoothed back to its usual composure. She was holding the saw and measuring it against the bamboo joints.

For a fleeting moment, that saw transformed in Song Guiya’s eyes into a long sword. It pulled her back to the day she had first entered the palace, when the stern old nanny had led her down a bamboo corridor, intoning the palace’s ironclad rules in a deadpan voice and reminding her over and over to put the princess above all else and attend her faithfully.

Song Guiya had grown bored with it quickly. The whole way, her mind had raced with schemes for breaking those rules—anything to get herself thrown out of the palace so she could return to the army camp and finally pick up some spear techniques from the Left Adjutant, the one even her mother’s men couldn’t best.

It wasn’t until they reached the end of the corridor that the nanny told her to pay her respects.

Song Guiya had half-heartedly raised her hand in a soldier’s salute. When she glanced up, there was young Xi Tongyue in her splendid brocade robes, gripping a long sword and hacking wildly at the bamboo with no technique to speak of.

Leaves from the thick green stalks flew in all directions from her swings. Standing amid the chaos, Xi Tongyue’s skin—already fair as porcelain—looked utterly flawless, and the tiny red mole at the corner of her eye stood out all the more vividly against the sea of green.

From that moment on, it seemed, Xi Tongyue had become the indelible cinnabar mark seared deepest into Song Guiya’s heart.

A mark that hadn’t faded even in death.

But what of Xi Tongyue?

Song Guiya felt the bite marks on her neck throb faintly. After a moment’s thought, she stepped forward and took the long saw from Xi Tongyue’s hand. “What kind of bed do you want, Teacher Xi? I’ll do the work—you just guide me from the side.”

Xi Tongyue didn’t resist as Song Guiya took the saw.

In the instant their fingertips brushed, she sensed something different in Song Guiya’s mood from moments before.

The grassy clearing stretched wide around them, and though they were alone there, neither had forgotten the photographer and his camera waiting nearby.

Neither of them spoke.

Only the mountain breeze carried a faint, subtle fragrance drifting quietly between them.

By midday, the bamboo bed was complete.

Chi Huo and Du Difeng returned from their hunt, dropping their wild rabbits to help carry the bed into the Bamboo House.

Everyone was just about to light a fire and start cooking when Director Wang, absent for so long, popped up again.

“Hello, fellow primitives! Good midday to you all. Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but I’ve got one piece of good news and one piece of bad news coming up. Which would you like to hear first?”