Chapter 23: Raising Pigs

The hot search topics exploding that day were all related to this variety show.

Some of the evening viewers who squeezed in to watch were fans of A World Starting Anew. They were already used to Whale Entertainment’s filming style and switched to their preferred camera feeds with practiced ease.

Qiu Chao had only appeared as a flying guest for one episode of A World Starting Anew. Later, she guested on another variety show in the same capacity.

There were no major highlights. She was mostly there to funnel traffic to the production team.

Pastoral Idyll: Me and My Agent clearly positioned Qiu Chao as the star draw. With her contract under Whale Entertainment, she boasted the highest buzz and anticipation of anyone.

Plenty of industry insiders felt that Whale was going all-in this time—enough to get the boss personally involved in cashing in.

Even though Qiu Chao had done variety shows and exclusive interviews before, most people’s impressions of her remained one-dimensional.

Acting was a profession that thrived on a touch of mystery. Audiences’ views of her were largely shaped by her roles.

Too much variety show exposure could erode that mystique, leading to disappointment with later works. There were plenty of cautionary tales like that.

Ding Yingxue’s fans harbored similar worries. On one hand, they wanted to see their idol on the show and glimpse her daily life. On the other, they feared that even a single slip-up in this near-24/7 live-stream format could wipe out all the goodwill she’d built with casual viewers.

Qiu Chao’s fans, by contrast, had no such reservations.

They couldn’t wait for her to do more shows.

Qiu Chao’s career had already peaked. Climbing higher was a tall order.

Predecessors at this stage usually chose to bow out gracefully—either marrying into wealth, starting a family, or shifting behind the scenes. A goddess’s beauty would fade with time, and decades later, she might run into fans on the street and get a polite “You still look lovely.”

Better steal a few extra glances while she was at her prime. A rural variety show felt refreshingly novel, too!

And then there was Director Qiu Siyuan, someone no other regional station or company could poach no matter how they tried!

With Qiu Siyuan’s golden reputation on the line, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say plenty of industry pros were green with envy that night.

Some dug up old photos online of Qiu Siyuan hugging Yan Muyu and suddenly understood why.

It all came down to Yan Muyu’s connections.

What made it infuriating was how flashy this person could be in some ways yet so low-key about this—without a whisper of rumor beforehand.

In the live stream chat right now, Qiu Chao, Yan Muyu, and Qiu Siyuan shared the frame.

Qiu Chao drew the most attention. The charisma honed over years in the spotlight was enough to turn heads anywhere.

Yan Muyu didn’t have a refined bone in her body. She was pure laid-back ease, able to carve out her own little world wherever she went. Even during her study abroad days, when she’d nearly died in an avalanche on a snowy mountain, the only one fretting had been her brother Yan Kai. Yan Muyu herself had just grinned it off, brushed off her worried big brother, and soothed her girlfriend.

She’d fired off replies to friends and classmates’ concerned messages one after another.

It was as if she were born without the ability to empathize with others’ joys or sorrows. Just like now, with Qiu Chao’s words laced with innuendo, Yan Muyu remained utterly unflappable on the surface.

She even seemed smug about it. “Of course. Who’d dare say otherwise?”

Yan Muyu glanced up at Qiu Siyuan. “Right, Little Qiu?”

【She’s so smug, but why doesn’t it come off greasy at all?】

【Her vibe is just that good. Xuan Zhelu’s fans used to frantically deny any hookup with this one, but now it looks like Xuan Zhelu might’ve been the one chasing.】

【Gotta say, Xuan Zhelu’s best photoshoot was that Tropical Rainforest set shot by Yan Muyu. I only skimmed it back then and still got hooked.】

【True artist soul—aloof, proud, never oily. Definitely a top.】

【Little Qiu? Director Qiu doesn’t give off sister vibes at all!】

Qiu Siyuan didn’t look like a variety show director at all. She was too stylish, clashing with the rustic backdrop.

Yan Muyu had no idea what promises the planner had made behind her back to get this won’t-return-home type to drop everything and come work.

Qiu Siyuan’s tactical jacket was zipped to the top, hiding her chin. Previous shots of her had been fleeting glimpses.

Now, following Yan Muyu’s cue, the camera turned to her properly, and viewers spotted the lip piercing.

【No way she’s…】

【Has to be…】

【DYING to know about their student days. And how does Qiu Chao even know Qiu Siyuan?!】

【Great, Whale Entertainment, you’re gonna make me whale on this again.】

【When’s paid live start? Last show had unlockable behind-the-scenes clips.】

【Paid solo cams too. I want in.】

Qiu Siyuan shrugged. “Not bad at all. What’s that got to do with me?”

She let out a laugh. Those vertical-pupil colored contacts looked downright eerie on camera. The next second, she glanced down, flipped through her cue cards, and turned to leave.

Not forgetting to call out, “You two wrap it up and come hear the rundown. Work starts tomorrow.”

Her tone was so casual, like they’d shared centuries of friendship—impossible to fake.

With her went the barrage of comments.

Yan Muyu chuckled. “Just like a roadside fruit vendor hawking three pounds for ten bucks.”

She glanced at Qiu Chao. “C’mon, let’s sit outside.”

It was past nine already. In this mountain village, that might as well have been the dead of night. Hardly a sound besides the wind.

The gusts whistled through, rustling the bamboo grove behind the rundown yellow-earth house.

The live stream’s wide shot captured a drone view of the mountaintop cottage. Streetlights dotted the winding mountain road, bright even late at night, snaking down to merge with the highway traffic below—reduced to specks of dust.

Tea pickers still worked at this hour. In this small village that lived off selling tea, most residents were from ethnic minorities.

Yan Muyu stepped over the threshold and eyed the handmade embroidery adorning the crumbling walls. Who knew where the production team had sourced it.

Qiu Chao set the box on the table. No trace of distress over confronting the dirty truth showed on her face. Instead, she smiled at Yan Muyu. “Where to sit?”

It was a perfectly innocuous question on the surface. But from Qiu Chao, it carried another layer.

Yan Muyu snorted, ignoring her. She walked to the main hall, pulled out a bamboo stool, and sat.

Xi Xi, who’d just finished packing, had left behind a kettle of freshly boiled water and poured everyone a cup.

Floral tea, scalding hot and unapproachable. The kettle was tiny too—probably under 500 milliliters.

Yan Muyu asked, “No place to boil more water around here?”

An off-camera producer replied, “There is. You can chop wood and fire it up.”

They hauled over a shiny copper kettle for Yan Muyu and pointed to the kitchen. “The earth stove over there works too. But I doubt Young Boss Yan knows how.”

Of course Yan Muyu didn’t. She eyed the copper kettle, fell silent for a long beat, then asked, “Don’t tell me there’s no fridge from the start either.”

【Savage. I couldn’t use that earth stove either.】

【Reminds me of my grandma’s place way back—fire for cooking doubled as water boiler, then poured into thermoses…】

【So folksy (love it).】

【Help, this isn’t full primitive, but I’m already cackling evilly. Urban beauties roughing it is peak joy.】

【Kinda mean, but their suffering is my entertainment.】

Xi Xi, Liu Song’s manager, was the oldest among the guests.

But this big sister didn’t seem old at all. When Qiu Chao sat, she accepted a cup of floral tea from her too.

Both were the vibrant type, but Xi Xi’s vibrancy had zero softness or allure—it was all sharp edges.

It was easy to imagine the rumors: her ex-husband’s lawsuit accusing her of domestic abuse during marriage, whispers that she dominated their relationship.

Men like him hated the spotlight, though. Xi Xi had no shortage of guys throwing themselves at her, and she’d cut ties decisively.

Her new chapter began by taking on Liu Song’s management.

The princess of Giant Entertainment Company handling brokerage personally? Liu Song’s career had hung a cheat code on itself—unbeatable ever since.

At just twenty-one, she was already the new diva.

The producer clarified, “That’s right, but with summer food storage being tricky, the director made a special exception.”

Beyond Whale Entertainment’s core variety team, Qiu Siyuan’s crew was here too. Their attitude matched hers—arrogant as hell, no small fry.

Yan Muyu laughed. “Qiu Siyuan’s really got skills.”

Just then, Qiu Siyuan called out Pei Wan and Ding Yingxue. Hearing that, she took it in stride. “Xiaoxiao, you’re too kind.”

It was Qiu Chao’s first time hearing the nickname. She glanced up instinctively.

【What xiao?! What’s their deal?!】

【Not that kind of deal. Sounds like a name clash.】

【Heard Qiu Siyuan’s a bottom?】

【Lesbian stuff’s legal abroad. Her ex-girlfriend spilled on it, right?】

【First ep and I’m hyped for special eps—like that fireside gathering in Qiu Siyuan’s foreign makeover civilian show.】

【Her atmosphere work is top-tier.】

Ding Yingxue had just emerged with Pei Wan. The cousin duo was famously close.

Fans were used to Ding Yingxue name-dropping her big sis in every interview.

Ding Yingxue blinked. “What xiao? New guest?”

Qiu Siyuan went, “Oh, talking about Young Boss Yan. That’s her nickname.”

Ding Yingxue said, “Doesn’t sound very nick-name-y. I thought nicknames were the insulting kind.”

Yan Muyu replied, “Pet name, from Little Qiu’s…”

It had been a while since she had seen Qiu Siyuan. They had always met up abroad before, and they were indeed longtime good friends—her mouth ran without a filter, as usual.

Unfortunately, the joke wasn’t even finished when Qiu Siyuan ruthlessly announced the show’s rules.

Director Qiu knew her own voice wasn’t pleasant to listen to, so she had Liu Song, who made her living off her voice, read the ad copy.

Only afterward did she say, “This program lasts twenty-two days, starting with tomorrow’s official broadcast.”

All the guests were seated at the long table in the central hall. Director Qiu had no airs about her; she just found a spot to sit down. It felt a bit like a class meeting.

The ceiling fan overhead looked like an antique, mounted on a wooden pillar. With its blades spinning at high speed, more than a few people worried it might suddenly drop.

The rapidly whirling blades stirred up gusts of air, scattering some of the steam rising from the teacup in front of Yan Muyu.

Qiu Chao sat beside her, staring blankly at the teacup in her hand.

It was one of Xi Xi’s collectibles. This top-tier agent had impeccable taste and, like Yan Muyu, counted as a young lady from a prominent family.

It was just that the Xi family got along harmoniously, unlike the Yan Family’s notorious chaos that everyone knew about.

Yan Muyu propped her face up with one hand. Banned from using her phone, she idly fiddled with the ring-toss game on the back of her phone case out of boredom.

It was like one of those childhood toys with two buttons that blew up the floating pieces in liquid, letting you loop them onto the bar up top.

Liu Song, sitting next to her, watched with wide eyes, clearly itching to play too.

【I’m dying laughing—six people, a whole spectrum of expressions.】

【Ding Yingxue, you’re way too clingy! Having a PhD big sis as your agent is a criminal waste of talent!】

【Never thought I’d see variety show chats blowing up over sisterly drama.】

【Liu Song… you’re twenty-one, not twelve…】

【Yan Muyu’s got so many tricks up her sleeve.】

【I’m sold on that phone case. Totally want one now.】

【Qiu Chao and Xi Xi… double mature beauties, but why is Xi Xi the stunner?!】

【Director Qiu lives rent-free in my heart. I’m in love at first sight… but doesn’t the lip ring make kissing awkward?】

Qiu Siyuan said, “Each of you will get thirty yuan in daily meal allowance from the production team. That decides your food for the day.”

“For any other expenses, you’ll have to earn them by working in the village yourselves.”

“You’ll have options like tea picking, cargo hauling, duck herding, and so on. Check the handout table for specifics.”

At that moment, the editing team specially added a line in the bottom right of the live feed—

Non-static footage.

【I’m dead. Everyone’s faces went blank.】

【Thirty bucks?? That’s not even enough for me! Was it that other show’s two hundred per person that sparked the debate, so now…?】

【Thirty’s actually plenty.】

【Didn’t they say the kitchen’s free to use? Firewood, rice, oil, salt—rice is supplied by the team anyway.】

【Not sure if that’s stingy or generous.】

Qiu Siyuan continued, “But you don’t pick your jobs. First, the six of you will draw from this box, and you can trade with each other afterward.”

Her voice was truly grating. Yan Muyu took a deep breath, forcing a friendly expression as she started to say something, but Qiu Chao beat her to it. “If we’re all off working, who’s going to cook?”

Qiu Siyuan replied matter-of-factly, “Just prep everything ahead and take it with you.”

She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, basically washing her hands of it.

Then the props team brought over the lottery box for them to draw on the spot.

Liu Song squeezed her eyes shut, muttering, “Please not pig rearing, please not pig rearing.”

Yan Muyu: …

She drew a slip at random and opened it. Her grimace perfectly synced with Liu Song’s joyful squeal—

“I got cow herding!”

The camera zoomed in on the paper in Yan Muyu’s hand. Staring back at her was exactly what Liu Song had dreaded.

Pig Rearing.