Chapter 24: Bickering

Yan Muyu drew Pig Rearing.

Qiu Chao drew Embroidery.

Liu Song drew Cow Herding, while Xi Xi drew Tea Picking.

Pei Wan got Cargo Hauling, and Ding Yingxue landed Duck Herding.

The results were all over the map, but Duck Herding looked like the easiest gig by far.

【What’s up with Qiu Chao’s draw? Ethnic minority-style embroidery? That’s gonna be rough.】

【Yan Muyu, you’re killing me—Pig Farm… At least the daily wage isn’t bad?】

The production team had thoughtfully posted an hourly wage chart in the live stream overlay.

Xi Xi’s Tea Picking job paid the highest, while Liu Song’s Cow Herding came in at the bottom.

The guests’ expressions were priceless. Someone screenshotted the moment and threw it online—no caption needed. The reluctance was crystal clear from the image alone—

[Is this variety show already this dramatic right out of the gate?]

[Liu Song, my sweet girl, what the hell are you laughing at? You think herding cows is a walk in the park?]

[Cousin, why’d you go for hauling cargo—like Huolala? So, does this village have a Labrador?]

[Duck Herding for Ding Yingxue… I think she and Liu Song could team up. They’re about the same age.]

[I’m more worried about Qiu Chao not knowing embroidery… She doesn’t strike me as super bookish (Can I even say that?).]

[Don’t sweat it, upstairs—Qiu Chao’s fans are very much alive, lololol.]

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward. Qiu Siyuan piped up: “What’s the matter? Never cracked open a blind box before?”

Her tone dripped with schadenfreude. She even singled out Liu Song: “Satisfied with yours?”

The only singer at the table sported shoulder-length hair, dyed an eye-catching blue. Sharing the frame with Qiu Siyuan, she looked ready to debut as an idol duo.

But the age gap was obvious. Liu Song had this innocent vibe, her voice clear and bright. When Qiu suddenly called her out, she let out an “Ah!” followed by a dopey grin. “I’m thrilled!”

Yan Muyu shot Liu Song a glance and pegged her as the type missing a screw—pampered from birth, no worries in the world.

Just then, Yan Muyu caught sight of Xi Xi out of the corner of her eye. Xi Xi flicked a look at Liu Song, and in the next instant, the silly smile vanished from Liu Song’s face. She straightened up like she’d been scolded, suddenly all business.

Yan Muyu recalled Xi Xi’s scandalous affair rumor and arched a brow.

【Liu Song… that scared of Xi Xi?】

【No wonder her fans keep pushing for a new manager. They say their baby lives like it’s senior year of high school hell under Xi Xi. Spot on.】

【Come on, every singer wants an agent like Xi Xi. She rocketed Liu Song to the top in just four years.】

The staff sorted out everyone’s assignments and handed out seed money.

Thirty yuan per person, in cash.

A yellow ten-yuan note and a blue twenty— even the jaded variety show veterans watching at home found the segment hilariously bleak when paired with the somber music cue.

Thirty yuan might cover a cafeteria meal and a soda for your average student.

But these women were still filming a show. Good luck making that stretch.

And two of them were straight-up rich girls. There was Xi Xi, the princess type who insisted on keeping her tea set among her essentials.

Then Yan Muyu, whose must-have was her camera—a hobby that stuck even if she wasn’t a pro photographer anymore.

The rest? Liu Song was a grassroots idol from a select show, same rough start as Qiu Chao.

Except Liu Song had blown up young—at seventeen. She’d entered that singing competition just for the free bottled water.

Qiu Chao’s backstory was shrouded in mystery, full of tabloid fodder and a rags-to-riches tale straight out of a fairy tale.

But her parents being dead? That much seemed legit.

You could tell from her overseas interviews—she’d been fiercely independent since childhood.

Pei Wan and Ding Yingxue came from business families. They’d never known real hardship and ranked as the mellow types in the industry.

This rural variety show was already blowing their minds.

【I’m dying to know how the production team scored these guests.】

【Watch out for variety show scams!】

【Thirty yuan for a whole day—what are they supposed to eat? I’m hooked.】

【Looks like the team expects them to fend for themselves. Any eateries in that tiny village?】

【So where the heck even is this place?!】

Yan Muyu stayed quiet for a long beat before letting out a deep sigh laced with deep-seated grudge. She turned to Qiu Siyuan: “If you’ve got more ways to torture us, just spill it now.”

Her sigh carried all the weight of a blood feud, but somehow, in this moment, it came off downright comical.

Ding Yingxue pressed her lips together, whispering urgently to Pei Wan. Hauling cargo felt way too risky.

The winding mountain roads they’d taken to get here had been nightmare fuel.

Qiu Siyuan put on her most innocent face. She twirled a strand of her dangling silver hair and checked her clipboard.

“This counts as torture?”

She paused. “You can trade jobs freely—no interference from us.”

“Tomorrow’s just for getting familiar. Real work starts the day after.”

Yan Muyu propped her chin on her hand and yawned, glancing at Qiu Chao. Qiu Chao was still fussing over the paper marked “Embroidery Workshop.” Yan Muyu asked Qiu Siyuan: “What about Qiu Chao? She can’t do it—does she have to learn on the fly?”

Off-camera, staff bustled in and out. The celebs’ assistants bunked elsewhere; they’d tag along once the stars went solo.

On screen, the table brimmed with women of wildly different vibes. Some stray viewers stumbling into the live stream got hit with the collective beauty bomb and fired off incoherent comments.

Qiu Siyuan eyed Qiu Chao. The overhead fan whirred noisily, tousling a few strands of her hair.

The pear-shaped bulb cast a warm yellow glow, drawing in a stray moth from who-knows-where.

Qiu Chao tucked her hair behind her ear. Yan Muyu’s question yanked her from her thoughts. She hadn’t mustered her usual facade yet.

When her eyes suddenly met Yan Muyu’s, there was a strange, bewildered innocence there.

She looked like she’d been swept into time’s current and couldn’t be bothered to fight it.

Qiu Siyuan asked: “How’d you know Qiu Chao can’t?”

Her smile held hidden intent. Her narrow eyes swept the table. Her tone brimmed with knowing assurance: “We matched the jobs to your skills.”

“Of course, the blind box draw was totally fair—no funny business.”

Yan Muyu let out a “Hey!”: “So you’re saying I’ve got a vet license?”

She scanned the group: “What, does Liu Song have a cow-herding certification? Ding Yingxue a pro duck herder?”

【Young Boss Yan, you’re a riot.】

【Yan Muyu always cracks the heavy vibe…】

【Don’t Qiu Siyuan and Yan Muyu make a great combo?】

【Qiu Chao, my darling wife—why that lonely look? It hurts my heart.】

Qiu Siyuan shot back: “Why are you so damn nitpicky?”

Yan Muyu scoffed in annoyance: “Unlike you and your peeping up skirts.”

【What the hell kinda talk is that?!】

【Am I even allowed to hear this?】

Qiu Siyuan raised a brow: “Qiu Chao’s embroidery skills are solid, Young Boss Yan. No need to fret.”

Yan Muyu snapped: “Who’s fretting over her?”

Qiu Siyuan pressed: “And don’t you have a bunch of driver’s licenses? Trucking should be a breeze.”

Yan Muyu blurted: “Holy shit, how’d you know?”

The big-shot director shrugged. “I’m the director.”

【Yan Muyu… she’s so odd. What’s her deal with Qiu Chao?】

【Not close, but kinda close? Manager-client vibes only?】

【So many women here. Only I’m Team Director Qiu—she’s totally playing matchmaker.】

【Lip-pierced matchmaker, gimme more hehe.】

Qiu Siyuan turned to Pei Wan: “As for the vet license—Pei, that’s you, right?”

The woman with her long hair pinned by a wooden clasp nodded. Pei Wan looked refined and delicate—hard to picture wrangling animals. She screamed “poet in the study” more than vet.

Ding Yingxue let out an “Oh,” then muttered under her breath: “Then sis, why not swap with Young Boss Yan?”

After that, nothing much happened. Qiu Siyuan headed off to a production meeting.

The follow cams cleared out, leaving just the fixed room cams.

The live stream rolled on. Machines shut down automatically at 11 p.m. and rebooted at 6 a.m.

The reminder floated in the stream—impossible to miss.

But it wasn’t even 10 yet. They had over an hour before blackout.

Yan Muyu eyed Xi Xi’s water jug. The sub-five-liter bottle was already bone-dry.

At least the village had running tap water. Remembering something, she asked: “Anyone know where the showers are?”

Pei Wan answered: “Out the door, hang a right. Bathroom and shower area’s separate.”

Ding Yingxue, who’d scoped it out earlier, jumped in: “The toilet’s decent—not too primitive. But showers? No hot water.”

She sighed, scratching her head. “It’s brutal. You gotta boil water first, dump it in the top bucket, then yank the rope to rinse.”

Even Liu Song, who’d hustled with her parents growing up, had never roughed it like this. She gasped in disbelief: “So… two people at once?”

Ding Yingxue nodded: “For hot showers, yeah. One person rinses while the other scrubs, then switch.”

Xi Xi, the eldest and most spoiled, drew a deep breath. “But isn’t there electricity now? Why no…”

Her oval face had real presence—a big, commanding plate. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she carried that cultivated peony richness, like old money.

Probably used to barking orders from girlhood, with zero setbacks in life. Right now, she came off endearingly naive.

Yan Muyu was equally baffled. “Metamorphosis, right? I just don’t get how this turned into Metamorphosis.”

While Yan Muyu wasn’t paying attention, Qiu Chao fiddled with the little game on the back of her phone case. At the same time, she asked, “Aren’t you the boss?”

In that instant, all eyes turned to Yan Muyu.

Yan Muyu let out a cold laugh. “Do you see them treating me like the boss?”

Her words carried such a note of pathos. Yan Muyu glanced at the kettle the staff member had handed over earlier. It was enormous—at least much bigger than Xi Xi’s little hot water pot.

“Those who want to shower, get ready,” said Yan Muyu. “While you’re at it, think about what we’re eating tomorrow. Someone needs to go buy groceries.”

She thought of the empty fridge in the kitchen and the bare rice canister, and despair washed over her. “This place really is stripped bare.”

Qiu Chao tilted her head. “How do you even prepare for a shower?”

“By boiling water,” Ding Yingxue replied. “Young Boss Yan, how are you going to boil it? Do you even know how to make a fire? Oh, right—it’ll be faster if two of us do it together.”

“Two people showering?” Yan Muyu asked.

Qiu Chao let out an “Oh.” “Us, together?”

The other four women—all except the pair of cousins—shifted awkwardly.

Liu Song mumbled hesitantly, “I can take a cold shower, no problem.”

Xi Xi shot her a look. “Have you forgotten your period’s almost here?”

“Exactly,” said Qiu Chao. “So let Yan Muyu handle the boiling water.”

Yan Muyu let out an “Ah.”

She didn’t even have a chance to protest that she could take a cold shower herself—no need for two people crammed together—and that cramps weren’t an issue anyway since she had painkillers. But just like that, Qiu Chao had shoved her into the role.

Qiu Chao’s smile was exceedingly gentle, so gentle that Yan Muyu felt like she’d just been scolded. “Little Yan, I know how much you dote on pretty women.”

“Young Boss Yan, I’ll go with you,” said Liu Song. “Looks like we’ll need to chop firewood too. I did it as a kid, so I have some experience.”

The girl was surprisingly thoughtful. She naturally laid out the shower order:

“Let Pei Wan and Sister Yingxue go first. You and Sister Qiu Chao can be second. It’s fine for me—I can…”

“I’ll go last,” Qiu Chao said.

She gave Yan Muyu a half-smile. “After all, Little Yan will be the one lugging the water buckets. That’s exhausting work.”