[The awkwardness is pouring off the screen—I'm starting to cringe on Chu Xi's behalf.]
[As expected, straight men who can't talk only bring mountains of emotional damage.]
[But isn't Chu Xi asking for it? Why do I sense a green tea vibe here?]
Director Sun arrived as fast as he could, ushering President Li off-camera and cautiously inquiring about the advertising fees.
With normal sponsors, he'd typically have the confidence to negotiate, but this was Hai Chuan—its sheer presence carried an invisible pressure. He lacked the guts to haggle.
Seeing Director Sun timid and servile, President Li immediately patted his chest and assured him funding wasn't an issue—as long as he focused on making the show great.
With President Li's guarantee, Director Sun instantly felt energized.
The initial funding the production team poured in was substantial, though most of it went to the guest appearances. The subsequent budget gap had to rely on advertisers.
Thanks to President Li's support, the abandoned cattle shed underwent an instant transformation in just one afternoon.
Three brick rooms were fitted with laminate flooring, equipped with doors and windows, wired for electricity, and furnished. Though it still lacked a bathroom and kitchen, it was now the highest-grade cattle shed setup imaginable.
Water wasn't a big issue—the small river outside the shed served as Yuan Village residents' drinking water source, and there was a public toilet 300 meters away. Conditions were harsh, but grit through it and 30 days would fly by.
Following the arrival of the two guest families, the brick rooms were redistributed.
Sang Ning, Hu Zhi, and Grandma Song shared one room; Song Shiye, Sang Chuan, and Shen Yi shared another; Sang Youming and Mr. Shen shared the last one.
With the accommodations settled, the next headache was meals.
Chu Xi, Chu Wei, and Qin Kai were staying with host families, so their dinner was naturally sorted out.
But the situation over in the cattle shed was far from optimistic—not a single grain of rice was to be found.
Seeing everyone worrying over dinner, Director Sun finally felt he had gotten the better of Sang Ning for once.
Afraid Sang Ning would pull the same stunt again, Director Sun hastily implemented a new rule: "From now on, no guest may independently solicit sponsors during live broadcasts."
He wanted to squash Sang Ning's idea of seeking outside help once and for all.
[Sang Ning: You might as well just call me out directly.]
[Even Director Sun is scared—what if Sang Ning solicits during the broadcast again and ends up with a helicopter delivering food?]
"Sis, what are we going to do? Are we seriously going to starve tonight?" Sang Chuan rubbed his flat belly, his face full of worry.
Lunch had already been pathetic—a lone steamed bun. If even dinner fell through, he might just die of hunger.
Grandma Song, however, didn't seem too troubled. She gently patted Sang Chuan's shoulder, soothing him: "Xiao Chuan, it's no big deal. If push comes to shove, I'll lean on my seniority and ask some villagers for food."
[Grandma Song is just too amazing—she's always smiling and speaking kindly to everyone.]
[Tears—she suddenly reminds me of my grandmother. She was just like Grandma Song, a gentle, loving old lady. Too bad she's now up in heaven—I don't have a grandma anymore.]
Looking at Grandma Song, Sang Ning was reminded of the abbot who had taken her in during her previous life—their kindly expressions were so alike.
She suddenly felt determined to make sure everyone had enough to eat. She couldn't resist Grandma Song—no matter what happened, she wouldn't let the old lady go hungry.
"Don't worry. As long as I'm here, no one will starve. I'm going out right now to find us food."
Sang Ning confidently promised, her gaze sweeping over everyone present. Judging by their faces, they were all a little skeptical.
"Sister Sangsang, are you planning to go beg for alms from the villagers? That kind of thing isn't right for a woman to do—you should leave it to us."
Song Shiye stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Sang Ning, pulling Shen Yi into the mix too.
Not used to physical contact, especially with unfamiliar men, Shen Yi lightly brushed off Song Shiye's hand and moved a step aside.
[Shen Yi is still a senior—isn't Song Shiye a little oblivious to etiquette here?]
[Your family must be so noble—what, never had friends? Never learned how to interact? Shoulder hugs between bros are totally normal.]
[Am I the only one shipping this sunny pup and aloof cat duo? Okay, officially declaring cat-dog CP from now on.]
[Shipping everything just gets you in trouble—aren't you worried about getting sniped by solo fans from both sides?]
Sang Ning coughed lightly, clearing her throat: "Who said anything about begging for alms? I'm talking about seeking nature's bounty. You just focus on gathering firewood nearby. Leave food hunting to me."
[What does she mean by nature's bounty? Sang Ning, what gibberish are you talking about?]
[No idea what she means—let's see what harebrained scheme she's cooking up.]
Sang Ning left the courtyard, and the cameraman followed closely behind.
As the saying goes: live off the mountain near you, live off the water near you. Sang Ning had already scoped out the hill next to the cattle shed—there had to be untouched ingredients tucked away there.
After Sang Ning left, Song Shiye, Shen Yi, and Sang Chuan obediently teamed up to search for firewood outside.
With the young ones gone, the courtyard felt notably emptier. Sang Youming's craving for alcohol began to itch again. He approached Mr. Shen, slung an arm over his shoulder, and leaned in to whisper: "Hey bro, feel like drinking?"
Sang Youming figured Mr. Shen was probably too upright to drink—he was honestly just testing the waters.
To his surprise, Mr. Shen turned slowly, his eyes gleaming with a hunger barely hidden beneath enthusiasm. He lowered his voice and asked with excitement: "You got some?"
Turns out Mr. Shen was only pretending to lead a sober lifestyle at his wife's insistence. In reality, he loved a good drink, though unlike Sang Youming, he knew how to limit himself.
A month ago, a health check had revealed he had gout, so his household overlord had decreed an outright ban on alcohol. For the past month, he hadn't touched a drop—he was practically dying for a sip.
Meeting Mr. Shen's eager gaze, Sang Youming instantly recognized a kindred spirit.
Life's too short to miss out on good drinks—he had found a true drinking buddy.
Lowering his voice even further, Sang Youming said, "I don't have any, but I caught the scent when I entered the village. They brew real, authentic corn liquor here—you want to check it out?"
Mr. Shen swallowed hard, clearly tempted, though he hesitated when noticing the cameraman in the distance: "They're filming the show—it wouldn't look great."
Sang Youming raised an eyebrow: "Easy fix. Follow me."
Mr. Shen got up and followed Sang Youming. When the cameraman saw this, they tagged along. Sang Youming adopted a serious tone, staring at the cameraman: "We're about to take a piss—are you planning to film that too?"
The cameraman pouted, realizing it would be inappropriate, and retreated.
With the courtyard now even emptier, Hu Zhi felt a nagging itch in her heart and hands—only touching a Mahjong tile could soothe her.
She slowly shuffled behind Grandma Song, pretending to give her a massage, but really she leaned close and quietly asked: "Grandma Song, isn't it boring just sitting here? How about I take you out to find some fun?"
Grandma Song nodded, dragging out her response: "A-lright…"
As Hu Zhi led Grandma Song toward the courtyard gate, the cameraman tagged along yet again. Hu Zhi turned back to glare at him: "Women have private matters to handle—you seriously want to follow us for that?"