Chapter 54
Chapter 54
This marked Lu Yicheng's most prominent appearance since the show began airing. Fans calculated that he had a total of five minutes of screen time—three minutes in the hospital, ten seconds on the road, and the rest spent eating noodles. The shot of him and Jiang Lan holding hands lasted no more than five seconds.
But, to everyone's delight, the couple made it onto Yunnan Province's official Weibo, adding another frame of them together.
Apart from the provincial account, official Weibo pages of major hospitals in Yunnan also reposted the post, warning about the dangers of eating undercooked mushrooms. Fans could only console themselves by thinking that, in a way, this proved the show's popularity.
While ending up in the hospital was somewhat comical, it felt different when it was a couple going in together.
And Lu Yicheng casually called Jiang Lan "baby" all the time.
It wasn’t forced or overly dramatic—just natural, like how couples nowadays affectionately call each other "baby" or "piggy." The nickname made their relationship seem even sweeter. At that moment, Lu Yicheng was at his most disoriented, almost like he was drunk, yet his eyes were only on Jiang Lan.
Of course, what surprised fans the most was Lu Shuangchen.
Apart from being handsome, he came off as a bit clueless.
[Am I weird for thinking their hospital trip was kinda cute?]
[Yu Wanqiu: This is the price of being a third wheel.]
[Honestly, Yu Wanqiu is great—like a best friend who calls parents or boyfriends when needed but never overstays her welcome.]
[Same on Qixi Festival.]
[The Valentine’s Day special was straight out of a drama.]
[Lu Shuangchen is awkward, Lu Shuangchen is clueless, Lu Shuangchen can’t flirt, but Lu Shuangchen buys milk tea, takes his wife to hotpot, drapes his coat over her shoulders—he spoils her rotten! Sorry, I can’t keep this up.]
[When God opens a door for someone, He definitely closes a few windows.]
[When God made Lu Shuangchen—wealth maxed out, IQ maxed out, looks maxed out, but dumped all the EQ.]
[I’m no longer jealous that Lu Shuangchen married such a beautiful wife.]
[Listing older men and younger wives in showbiz.]
[Lu Shuangchen is only six years older than Yu Wanqiu—just saying.]
[Where did all these Lu Shuangchen antis come from? Tsk!]
[Compared to him, Chen Hao is a total sweetheart.]
[Zhang Lin and Li Jia barely appeared this episode—what’s up with them?]
[Lu Shuangchen showed up, but Zhang Lin’s husband and Chen Shuyun’s husband are still MIA.]
[Chen Shuyun’s a civilian, so it’s normal her husband isn’t on screen, but Xu Chaoyang? Not spending Qixi with his wife?]
[Is Xu Chaoyang busier than Lu Shuangchen?]
[Their pairing had issues from the start. I saw an interview from seven years ago—Li Jia was never fully satisfied with her daughter-in-law.]
[Now that you mention it, they had a legendary wedding back then.]
[Are they heading for divorce?]
[This just proves how important compatibility is.]
[It depends on the person. It’s not about status but about knowing what kind of mother-in-law and husband you’re getting into. Some wealthy families are reasonable. Don’t throw everything away for love—look at Du Wanzhou and Yu Wanqiu, or Shen Xingyao and Jiang Lan, who come from ordinary backgrounds. No one’s richer than Lu Shuangchen, so what’s Li Jia being so high and mighty about?]
[If this is how she’s treated while pregnant, imagine daily life.]
[This should be a wake-up call for anyone banking on looks to marry into wealth.]
[Hope Jiang Lan thinks carefully.]
[Aunt Zhao has changed a lot—not sure if it’s for the show or genuine.]
[If she really wants someone to take care of the house, her son should quit his job. He’s not earning as much as Chen Shuyun anyway.]
[That’s not how it works—men work outside, women manage the home, that’s tradition.]
[Wow, while others free their feet, you’re still binding your brain.]
[A zombie could knock on your skull and find nothing inside.]
[Are you from the Qing Dynasty??]
This episode’s ratings broke 2, forcing a competing Friday 10 PM variety show to reschedule to Saturday. That’s the power of this program.
The reception was even better than last time, mainly because many controversial scenes were left uncut—like Li Jia’s worse moments, Zhang Lin and Xu Chaoyang discussing divorce, and some of Aunt Zhao’s remarks.
The production team didn’t want to fuel online anxiety. The show’s purpose wasn’t to showcase conflict but to see the guests grow.
Zhang Tian planned to roll out merchandise for fan giveaways—keychains, pillows, things like that. At the end of the day, he was in it to make money.
Many look down on variety show directors. The entertainment industry has its hierarchy: documentary filmmakers scoff at movie directors, who scoff at TV producers, who scoff at variety show creators. But after the second season’s explosive success, many reached out to join the third.
Zhang Tian was already preparing for Season 3. A hit show naturally demands a follow-up, and two months wasn’t enough to prove genuine, lasting change in the guests.
Take Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan—fans wanted them to become real mother- and daughter-in-law but not at the cost of their current dynamic.
So far, Zhang Tian had been approached by an old-school actor’s wife and a Peking opera performer. With such a lucrative pie, everyone wanted a slice.
Lu Yuan’s stocks kept rising. Yu Wanqiu was set to audition for The Deep Sea in early September, and she and Jiang Lan had signed contracts (though not yet announced) to film a Yunnan tourism promo.
Jiang Lan joined Chen Ninglei’s studio—a rare opportunity even for top graduates. Shen Xingyao was prepping a new drama, and Zhang Lin was leveraging the show’s momentum for a comeback. Who wouldn’t envy them?
According to Zhang Tian’s insider info, the milk brand sponsoring Season 2 wanted Yu Wanqiu as their ambassador. As an Olympics partner, their quality was guaranteed, the endorsement fee substantial, and the exposure invaluable—a major win.
The sixth episode even featured Zhang Lin’s KM maternity cosmetics ad. Her beauty was undeniable, and the products had passed safety tests.
KM was considering her as a spokesperson. Pregnant celebrities were hard to come by, and given Zhang Lin’s status, the fee wouldn’t be exorbitant—but for her, it was a lifeline.
These were tangible benefits for the guests, and Zhang Tian could now hold his head high in the industry. Every field has its stars, and in variety shows, he’d reached the top.
For Season 3, he still preferred having Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan return.
Online buzz was rampant. Jiang Lan avoided Weibo, but Xu Xiang kept sending her screenshots—like one of Lu Yicheng lying in a hospital bed with an IV.
[Xu Xiang: Babe, your boyfriend got called out by the authorities!]
[Xu Xiang: Gotta admit, he’s still hot even in a hospital gown.]
[Xu Xiang: Interview time—how does it feel to make the news?]
She wanted to die a little.
The contract clearly stated that any footage shot by the crew could be used. The teddy bear scene wasn’t aired, nor was the beach balloon moment, but their five-minute hospital stint made the cut.
When it came to playing the game, Zhang Tian was the master.
What could Jiang Lan do about it?
Milan has a time difference with China, and Lu Yicheng had already gone to sleep. Xu Xiang often stayed up late, so it wasn’t unusual for her to be awake at this hour. She had asked Jiang Lan to bring back some items from the duty-free shop—a long list that included skincare products, lipsticks, and foundation.
As an observer, Xu Xiang was quite curious. Was Lu Shuangchen really as awkward as he seemed in videos? In front of him, Yu Wanqiu was practically a queen. Moreover, Yu Wanqiu looked much younger than him.
Lu Shuangchen appeared to be in his late thirties, which was considered youthful for his age group, but Yu Wanqiu looked a full decade younger.
Jiang Lan could only say that Lu Shuangchen was an interesting person. After all, it was rare for someone to leave a note wishing his wife a smooth trip and successful work.
Couldn’t he just say, "Hurry back, I’ll pick you up, I miss you"?
Jiang Lan chatted with Xu Xiang for a while. She wasn’t particularly tired yet—the fashion show was scheduled for the next afternoon, and she had to get her hair and makeup done in the morning.
She planned to wear the blue princess-style dress from the brand "ie," paired with white shoes. Originally, Yu Wanqiu had intended to wear a silver mermaid gown, but since she had already worn it on a date, she couldn’t repeat it for such an occasion. So, she had to switch to another dress.
Lu Shuangchen had sent over a new one—a champagne-colored gown with no open back or deep V-neck. The hem was adorned with diamonds that sparkled under the light.
This dress was custom-made, so there was no risk of someone else wearing the same thing. It was undeniably glamorous, and Yu Wanqiu’s elegance carried it well, preventing her from looking like a nouveau riche.
Of course, Lu Shuangchen’s taste only went so far.
In the morning, they did their makeup and styling. Jiang Lan usually wore her hair down, but for special occasions, she had even worn extensions before.
This time, she had dyed her hair a light brown and styled it in a topknot tied with a blue silk ribbon.
Her makeup was kept light and natural. She applied highlighter to her shoulders, collarbones, arms, and calves, making her entire body shimmer.
Yu Wanqiu had also pinned her hair up, revealing her graceful shoulder blades and neckline. To match the dress, she wore a diamond necklace.
The fitted gown accentuated her slender waist, and Jiang Lan couldn’t help but steal several glances. "Yu Laoshi, you look absolutely stunning today."
At first, Yu Wanqiu had thought the dress was a bit tacky, but hearing Jiang Lan’s praise made her reconsider. "Really?"
Jiang Lan nodded. "Your waist is so tiny, your arms are so fair, and the necklace is gorgeous—you look like a fairy descending to earth!"
"That’s because I’m beautiful. If someone else wore this dress, it wouldn’t look the same," Yu Wanqiu said, checking herself in the mirror again. She asked Jiang Lan to pick out a pair of earrings for her. "How about these?"
Jiang Lan: "Even more breathtaking. You’re utterly mesmerizing."
Yu Wanqiu smiled faintly. "Let’s go."
Xia Jing drove them to the fashion show. While the main purpose was to observe, catching the designer’s eye could lead to becoming a brand ambassador.
Yu Wanqiu didn’t lack high-end fashion, but her studio had several people to dress. Building good relationships would make it easier to borrow clothes in the future.
With their invitations in hand, they entered the venue.
A staff member directed them, "Your seats are over there."
Each seat had a name tag to prevent mix-ups—this was an unspoken rule in the fashion world. The front rows were reserved for the most influential guests.
Even among attendees, there were hierarchies. Not everyone could sit up front.
Jiang Lan’s seat was to Yu Wanqiu’s left. The name tag next to hers read "Xie Zheng," who hadn’t arrived yet.
To Xie Zheng’s left was Lu Xingran, while Yu Wanqiu’s right was occupied by Zheng Qiu, a veteran actor in his late forties with an extensive filmography. He was often referred to as the "uncle type" by netizens—a man with a weathered charm, like a strong cup of tea, exuding depth.
Jiang Lan glanced around the venue—everywhere she looked, there were gorgeous men and women. Any one of them could be plucked out as exceptionally attractive.
She had always enjoyed looking at beautiful people, and this place was practically paradise for her.
After a while, Xie Zheng arrived. He had co-starred with Yu Wanqiu in The Deep Sea and had been nominated for Best Supporting Actor at the Golden Bear Awards. Yu Wanqiu was a highly respected senior in his eyes.
Xie Zheng looked dashing today—wearing a black pearl-finish shirt with the top two buttons undone, his neck dusted with glitter. He had also lined his eyes and wore shadow.
His ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????outfit was a high-end piece from the brand "Z," and his wristwatch retailed for over a million yuan.
Xie Zheng greeted them politely. "Good afternoon, Yu Laoshi. Good afternoon, Jiang Lan-jie."
After exchanging pleasantries, he sat quietly, waiting for the show to begin.
A short while later, Lu Xingran approached. "Hey, buddy, mind swapping seats with me?"
Xie Zheng: "?"
Lu Xingran lowered his voice. "I wanna sit next to Jiang Lan. We’re bros—do me a solid."
"Uh… that’s not a good idea," Xie Zheng whispered back. "She has a boyfriend. You should probably keep your distance."
Xie Zheng simply felt he shouldn’t enable questionable behavior. Besides, for Lu Xingran’s own safety and career, he couldn’t agree to this.
Yu Wanqiu was right there. Sitting next to her future daughter-in-law? That was just asking for trouble.
Lu Xingran blinked. "Lu Yicheng and I are like brothers. Jiang Lan’s my sister-in-law. I swear, I’m not lying."
Xie Zheng: "…………"
Lu Xingran successfully swapped seats. Men weren’t as particular about seating hierarchy. He waved at Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan. "Hey, what a coincidence!"
Lu Xingran’s outfit was even flashier than Xie Zheng’s—a black printed shirt, semi-long curly hair tied into a small ponytail at the back.
Yu Wanqiu ignored him. Jiang Lan gave a brief response. "Yeah, coincidence."
Lu Xingran: "You two look amazing today. How am I supposed to focus on the show now?"
"By the way, I wanted to ask—do you know any other ways to play music besides using yarn? I tried it, but it didn’t work," Lu Xingran said, leaning in slightly. From this angle, their posture looked somewhat intimate.
Jiang Lan: "Glass cups, rubber bands—those work. Haven’t tried anything else. If you need sound effects, you can hire me. I’ll give you the friends-and-family rate."
Earning extra money meant more delicious meals with Yu Wanqiu. Xu Xiang had mentioned an amazing pork knuckle stew that went perfectly with rice—she could easily eat three bowls.
As they chatted, Jiang Lan suddenly noticed the light dimming. She looked up to see a woman in a celestial blue gown. For a moment, Jiang Lan was stunned before realizing who it was.
Ming Yao.
Upon closer inspection, Ming Yao didn’t resemble Yu Wanqiu at all. It was hard to connect the two based on appearance alone—unless you counted the similar eye makeup.
Among all the stunning women at the show, Jiang Lan had to admit Ming Yao had an exceptional presence. She was tall—probably over 170 cm—and slender, embodying the phrase "fair-skinned and beautiful." Her youthfulness added to her charm, with plump cheeks and a sweet smile.
Ming Yao didn’t even glance at Jiang Lan. Instead, she stopped in front of Yu Wanqiu. "Yu Laoshi, I’ve long admired your work. I’m Ming Yao."
The venue was packed with journalists, including international stars who recognized Yu Wanqiu but not Ming Yao, who had only debuted a year ago.
At this, all cameras turned toward the two women—one standing, one seated, with Yu Wanqiu’s gaze carrying a hint of scrutiny.
Ming Yao remained poised. When Yu Wanqiu didn’t respond, she tilted her head slightly and added, "I loved The Deep Sea. I watched it three times. Would you mind signing an autograph for me after the show?"
Yu Wanqiu shook her head. "No. Is your seat over here?"
The subtext was clear: if you're not supposed to be here, go back to your own seat. Standing in the front row blocks the view for those behind.
Jiang Lan silently praised Yu Wanqiu three times in her heart.
So impressive!
Ming Yao: "?"
She hadn’t expected Yu Wanqiu to say something like this. With so many media outlets, including foreign press, present, did she really care so little about saving face?
Ming Yao gave a slight nod. This wasn’t the first time she’d faced such a situation. As long as she kept her composure, the cameras—too far away to capture their conversation—would only show her chatting amiably with Yu Wanqiu, creating the illusion of her being favored by the veteran actress.
Lu Xingran raised an eyebrow and deliberately asked Jiang Lan, "Who’s that?"
Jiang Lan shook her head. "No idea."
Ming Yao’s expression faltered. Her seat was in the third row, far from the center where Yu Wanqiu sat as the focal point. Even Jiang Lan, who wasn’t even part of the entertainment industry, was seated beside Yu Wanqiu in the spotlight. Meanwhile, Ming Yao was stuck in the third row—where the cameras might not even catch her face when they panned over.
Ming Yao wanted fame. She wanted to be the hottest star.
Her acting wasn’t bad, and she had connections. All she needed was the right exposure, and success would follow. What she despised most was Jiang Lan. If she were in Jiang Lan’s place, with Yu Wanqiu’s influence, she could land any role she wanted—no need to scrape for attention.
Ming Yao hoped The Deep Sea would win awards, preferably with her taking Best Actress. That would give her plenty of material for headlines—like how a rising newcomer had outshone Yu Wanqiu. How impressive would that be?
But now, she didn’t dare push too hard. Yu Wanqiu had a powerful husband, and Ming Yao feared being blacklisted. That’s why she’d approached Yu Wanqiu for an autograph—to maintain some semblance of rapport.
Yu Wanqiu was always kind to Shen Xingyao and Zhang Lin, so why treat her like this?
The truth was, Yu Wanqiu simply disliked people driven by naked ambition. The entertainment industry was already a cutthroat world. She’d worked for over twenty years to reach her status—she wasn’t about to let someone like Ming Yao, who vaguely resembled her, leapfrog to the top. That wouldn’t be fair to others.
On the other hand, if Jiang Lan ever wanted to act, Yu Wanqiu would gladly open doors for her.
She was just that biased.
Jiang Lan: "Yu Wanqiu, you’re the best."
She gave a thumbs-up.
Yu Wanqiu smiled. "She’s spoiled. If she keeps trying to ride my coattails, my studio will issue a public denial."
Lu Xingran also flashed a thumbs-up. "Aunt Yu, you’re amazing! How was my acting just now? Think I could break into the industry?"
Yu Wanqiu replied, "Only slightly better than hers."
Jiang Lan suppressed a laugh. Though it felt a little wrong to bully a young woman like this, it was undeniably satisfying. Yu Wanqiu leaned back. "The show’s about to start."