Chapter 6

Several cameras were trained on him, yet Shen Li slept soundly.

It was as if he were trapped in a dream, his brows perpetually furrowed in distress, a sheen of cold sweat beading on his pale face. He looked strikingly beautiful—and heartbreakingly fragile.

But did the word “fragile” truly suit Shen Li?

Shen Li was like an unbreakable iron man.

He had simply gone too long without sleep.

Ever since returning to the village that had once saved his life and staying there for a year, the villagers had grown utterly dependent on him.

Half a month earlier, when word spread that he was leaving for a trip far away, they had wailed every day outside his door. They brought him eggs and milk, pleading with him not to go.

Shen Li had eaten the eggs with his left hand and sipped the milk with his right, patiently explaining that he would only be gone a few days and would return.

Yet in those final days before departure, he had been busy erecting telephone poles for the village and keeping an eye on the gaggle of children at the school. At the same time, he poured immense effort into soothing the villagers’ emotions. For three or four straight days, he hadn’t closed his eyes. Add to that the disturbance from Qian Xingzhi the night before, and it was no wonder he now slumbered like the dead.

The bedding was luxuriously soft, and the bed itself seemed to possess some magnetic pull, refusing to let him go.

The moment Shen Li lay down, it felt as though the bed had woven a spell around him, binding him in place.

The sole drawback was that, not long after drifting off, the dreams returned—visions of events from a year ago.

A year prior, Shen Li—who hadn’t touched breakfast in years—had glanced at Qian Xingzhi’s social media feed and spotted an inexplicable post:

[Wonder if the sky’s still blue where you are. You eating breakfast like a good boy?]

For some inexplicable reason, Shen Li’s mind short-circuited. He veered off his route, stopped at a roadside breakfast stall, and decided to grab some steamed buns.

By sheer coincidence, he caught sight of a bearded man who bore an uncanny resemblance to a fugitive, buying a pack of smokes at the stall.

Shen Li didn’t tip them off. After reporting to his superiors, unwilling to let the trail go cold, he shadowed the man. Following the lead, he uncovered the criminal syndicate that his narcotics squad colleagues had hunted fruitlessly for two years.

As the group piled into a car to flee, Shen Li got clever. He pretended to be a customer approaching to buy. To his shock, the ringleader turned out to be gay and lunged straight for his ass!

Like hell he’d stand for that!

Shen Li was on duty, his Police Officer ID still tucked in his pocket!

He threw down bare-knuckled with the lot of them until knives came out, blades whistling toward him. His heart jolted—

Finally, no body cam to record it. Time for some “rough enforcement.”

Three dead, three wounded.

He bore the lightest injuries.

Even now, with his right leg rendered useless, Shen Li frequently dreamed of that morning: someone straddling him, stabbing and slashing at his leg, severing the ligaments clean through.

The pain.

His right leg felt like it was being ripped from his body.

He always woke from the agony.

…

“You okay? You’re drenched in sweat.”

A man’s voice drifted hazily from beside the bed. Shen Li’s eyes fluttered open, bleary at first, taking in a tall silhouette. Caught napping at the office, his first instinct was to blurt, “How’d you get in here?” But rationality snapped back, clearing the fog from his mind.

He and Qian Xingzhi had divorced long ago. Why did his thoughts still drift to the man in his muddled moments…?

Shen Li sat up steadily, eyeing the male guest standing by his bed. The man was tall and muscled. In silhouette alone, he somewhat resembled Qian Xingzhi—though clearly far younger, barely into his twenties.

So young, and here for a remarriage show?

“Hey, your face is ghost-white. You sick or something?”

Shen Li wiped the cold sweat from his brow, cleared his throat, and gave the man an appraising look. “Nah, just catching some shut-eye. I was wiped out.”

The guy didn’t seem the chatty type. His narrow face creased in mild disapproval before settling into a subtle frown. “Name’s Lin Xu,” he said with a cough. “Everyone else already introduced themselves while you were out cold, so they sent me to rouse you.”

“Thanks. Shen Li.”

“Right. If you’re good, let’s get moving. Task time’s almost here.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a shrill, grating metallic screech erupted from the ceiling overhead.

Screeech—!

Lin Xu clapped his hands over his ears, muttering a disgusted, “Fuck!”

Shen Li didn’t so much as twitch on the bed, though his brows furrowed slightly. His keen gaze zeroed in on the source: a clunky old speaker in the corner. If memory served, this model had been a fleeting fad at the turn of the millennium—practically obsolete now. Why would the Program Group pick something so archaic?

No sooner had the thought formed than the piercing wail cut off.

Lin Xu, flustered from his reflexive curse, rubbed his lips with an index finger.

The awkwardness didn’t linger. The speaker crackled to life again—a mechanical male voice that clearly commanded everyone’s attention.

[Welcome, eight guests, to the fully live-streamed Survival Cabin! I am the Cabin Steward System. Next up, I’ll lay out the Survival Cabin rules!]

The mechanical voice fell silent for a beat, then rumbled on.

[The Survival Cabin fully simulates real human life, faithfully recreating everyday existence. Accordingly, all cabin activities fall into two categories:

1. Daytime Production Activities

2. Nighttime Social Activities

Each guest must earn ample “personal assets” and secure some social standing via “Daytime Production Activities.” Only then will you have the financial backing for “Nighttime Social Activities”—to wine, dine, and woo the one who catches your eye.

Starting tomorrow at noon, your current rooms may spring all sorts of issues: peeling plaster, busted lights, drafty windows. No need to panic.

That said, if you’d rather not rough it, build up wealth from “Daytime Production Activities” or trade assets during “Nighttime Social Activities.” Save enough to apply to the system for a rental or purchase!

Our shiny new, cozy condo development goes on sale tomorrow night at 8:00 PM.

Naturally, if two guests really click, you can petition the Program Group for a co-rent or co-buy arrangement.]

“Fuck! What the hell?” Lin Xu let another curse slip. “So we’re grinding for cash all day, dating at night—but dates ain’t free, and we gotta sort our own damn housing?”

Shen Li straightened despite the throb in his bad leg, mustering a wry half-smile. “Good news for us wage drones. This show’s just like real life—keep slaving away on that mortgage.”

But Lin Xu was too stunned to register the quip. “Fuck me, I’ve got a hundred-plus buildings to my name. Came on this show to punch a clock? Or pay off loans?”

Shen Li blinked.

?

Fine.

Big shot.

Shen Li feigned ignorance, letting his gaze drift to the curtains nearby without reply.

The mechanical voice pressed on: [One more bit of good news—Daytime Production Activities come with limited slots. Around 3:00 PM each afternoon, job postings with varying openings will drop. Compete fairly, folks.]

“Ah?! Not jobs for everyone?!”

“—What happens if we don’t make the cut?”

Shen Li heard two women’s startled voices from the open doorway.

The system shot back without missing a beat.

[Haha, what then? No job? Stay home and chill. Who knows—someone might fancy you enough to foot the bill.]

“No dice,” one woman shot back. “I ain’t letting no man keep me. They’re less reliable than A-shares!”

“Damn right,” the other chimed in. “I’m thirty. Way past believing in men or the stock market.”

The mechanical voice swiftly drowned them out as the Butler System announced:

[Coming right up: today’s “Production Activity” hiring bulletin. Check your feeds!]

Then it pitched up into a theatrical falsetto—the same robotic timbre, now dialed to eleven, like a diva in full meltdown mode, hamming it up solo.

[What’s for dinner? What’s for dinner?!

Right now!

The “Public Fund Pool” sits at zero. Barring a miracle, every last one of you starves tonight!

No chow means no energy to mingle—kiss your Nighttime Social Activities goodbye!

So—

Let’s fix that dinner pronto!

Good news: Your benevolent Butler’s flung open the cabin’s forest for a work call. Snag those hunting rifles from the tool shed and morph into apex forest hunters!

Heads up! Pump the “Public Fund Pool” to cover everyone’s dinner? Surrender a collective 40kg+ of game!

Warning: Hunting grounds pack a punch. But fear not—you’ve got some prime “ability users” in the mix, perfect for the gig. Drag one along, yeah?~

Today’s gig: Forest Hunter

Duties: Hunt

Details: Each hunter gets one rifle, thirty-five rounds. Two-hour window. Haul back by 6:00 PM. Total game from all hunters hits 40kg or more? Day one’s Production Activity cleared collectively. Dinner vouchers for all, Nighttime Socials unlocked at 8:00 PM.

Fall short? Whole team fails. No grub, no socializing.

Pay: Base 5k + performance bonus

(Base: 5,000 yuan private pay per hunter, success or flop. Bonus: (your kg / 40kg) x 10,000)

Slots: 6 hunters

How to apply: Cabin dwellers keen on the job? Report in the next ten minutes with your pitch. Competition mode activated.

Selection: Cabin votes (40%) + Observation Lounge guests (30%) + Live stream viewers (30%).

Channels live now. Apps close 3:30 PM.

Results drop at 3:40 PM sharp.]

No sooner had it ended than Shen Li noticed Lin Xu—who’d griped about slaving on the show moments ago—perking up at the “hunting” hook. He was all in now, craning to peer out Shen Li’s window at the lobby below.

“Ahem. So, what d’you say, bro?” Lin Xu licked his lips, turning to Shen Li.

Shen Li stared blankly. “Huh? Say about what?”

“Sign up, duh. You going or not?”

Shen Li: …

Shen Li leaned against the bed, feeling utterly drained. He half-closed his eyelids and recalled what the Butler System had just said about the “job selection method”—some kind of weighted voting process.

It was fair, sure enough.

But who would vote for a cripple like him?

Unless he mentioned his win in the tri-service shooting competition right now.

He had slept half the day away, missing the prime time for self-introductions. Besides, the Program Group might not even allow mentioning professions yet. Would he really have to beat around the bush on camera?

No way.

Too pretentious.

Just thinking about it made him want to hurl.

Shen Li waved his hand, politely declining. “Uh, you go sign up first. I’ll see if you all want to go, then decide.”

Lin Xu clearly knew nothing about shooting—and his math wasn’t great either—because he tried to persuade Shen Li like this. “Who cares if we get selected? Just sign up! Look, let me do the math for you. As long as you participate, you’ve got a guaranteed 5k wage. Performance bonuses are bullshit. Hitting 40kg gets you an extra 1,000—who cares how much you actually hit?”

Shen Li: …?

Was that really how the math worked?

“Uh,” Shen Li blinked. He didn’t point out the mistake. His handsome face looked utterly bewildered on camera. The next moment, he finally stood up from the bed and took a couple of steps on level ground.

Lin Xu glanced at his legs, his expression changing.

“Bro, you…”

“I’d love to go, little bro. But can you even select me?”

Shen Li smiled as if it were no big deal.

Lin Xu’s face shifted instantly. His gaze slid from Shen Li’s tantalizingly slim waist down to those long, straight legs marked by extensive scars. He licked his lips and finally said after a long moment, “Uh, sorry. You—you fell where? Why no cast?”

Shen Li’s strikingly handsome face creased with a slight frown, his expression turning distant. “A cast wouldn’t help. I can only recover slowly.”

“Oh, oh. Then get some rest. I—I’ll go sign up. Hey, if I make a killing, I’ll share some when I get back.”

Shen Li: …

“Thanks.”

“N-no problem, bro. I’m out.”

Lin Xu bolted from the room like his ass was on fire.

Shen Li couldn’t help thinking the guy was kind of funny. One minute he didn’t want to participate, and the next he was terrified of not getting in.

He checked the time, then glanced at the doorway and downstairs.

The crowded spot had to be the application desk for the “production activities.”

Whatever.

Shen Li quickly made the bed, changed his clothes, and tidied his appearance.

The man in the mirror looked gaunt, his face deathly pale—a half-dead, lifeless shell.

Shen Li eyed himself with distaste. With this ghostly look, Qian Xingzhi really must have been starving to even consider remarrying him.

But for some reason, whenever that name crossed his mind, a bitter feeling seeped into his blood, spreading through his whole body.

Shen Li quickly suppressed the thought, forcing himself not to dwell on it.

He slipped into a pair of comfortable black sneakers and headed downstairs at an unhurried pace.

Two minutes to go.

The other seven amateur guests had clearly gotten quite familiar with each other over the past two or three hours. They were scattered around the application desk now—some sitting alone, others chatting.

Shen Li had no intention of disturbing anyone.

He minimized his presence as much as possible, trying his best not to look too lame. He made his way near Lin Xu—the guy who’d woken him up earlier—and stood about five or six meters away. From there, he sized up the group.

Lin Xu, the guy with a hundred buildings back home.

Yang Zhiqi, the one who smoked in the cafeteria.

Jiang Nan, who rarely showed up to meetings and had an extremely low presence.

The three male guests were huddled together, plotting their hunting strategy.

“Hahaha, just follow me. I’ve trained for this,” Yang Zhiqi said cheerfully. “Right—everyone signed up except that sleepy bro?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Nan replied.

Yang Zhiqi went on. “I say we take spots one, two, three—that’s us three—plus three girls. Perfect: three men, three women. Men and women together, and work’s not tiring, right? Hey, Little Lin, go tell the ladies. See who wants to stay back and rest. Why compete on the first day? It’s exhausting. Let’s keep it peaceful—peace and love!”

Lin Xu stood there with a cold face, arms crossed, legs planted. He didn’t budge. “You tell them yourself. I’m not doing it.”

Hearing Yang Zhiqi talk like that nearly made Shen Li laugh.

Afraid he’d burst out laughing for real, he shuffled his feet and headed toward the girls.

The four women were clustered together, chatting quietly.

He’d seen Ke Jiujiu—the straight sweet girl in the cute little skirt with the pink bow—and Li Weiwei in her all-black outfit at the nine o’clock meeting.

One of the others was blonde with blue eyes, looking foreign, but she was rattling off fluent Henan dialect, telling a corny joke that had the other three women giggling. Her name badge read 【Kris】.

The last one was extremely quiet and very short—barely scraping five feet, a tiny thing. Her name badge read 【Zhao Yunzhi】.

Shen Li only glanced at them once before Ke Jiujiu spotted him. She waved enthusiastically and greeted him. “Hi! Shen Li! You’re awake? You sign up yet?”

Shen Li shook his head. “You guys go. Only six spots.”

He’d already found a hard sofa to sit on and was peeling an orange.

But then Li Weiwei—the one in the black hot-girl miniskirt—handed him an application form along with a pen. She slapped them down on the coffee table in front of him. “Give it a shot. You’re here anyway.”

Li Weiwei stared expressionlessly at his right leg as she said it.

Shen Li’s pupils contracted slightly. He looked at the paper and pen on the table in surprise.

Truth be told, Lin Xu’s reaction was the normal one. After his injury, someone like Li Weiwei—who saw him limping but handed him an application form like he was perfectly normal—was a rarity. He hadn’t gotten that kind of “treatment” since.

Back in his unit, everyone treated him like an ancestor. They’d practically escort him up stairs.

Even in Geng Family Village, all the locals took care of him, afraid he’d take even a few extra steps.

Everyone was too good to him—good enough that Shen Li often wanted to sigh, but he held it back for fear of letting it slip.

He coughed lightly and set down the orange peel, hesitating over whether to fill it out.

The tiny girl scooted over with a smile. “Yeah, give it a try. You might get picked and score some cash.”

Shen Li nodded. He glanced at Li Weiwei and Zhao Yunzhi, then filled out the form without further hesitation.

【Applicant】: Shen Li

【Reason for Applying】: Money

【Personal Strengths】: Shooting Champion

Swish.

Shen Li lifted his hand, about to stand and submit it.

But at that moment, Ke Jiujiu snatched the form away. She read it aloud with wide-eyed curiosity. “Wow~ Hahaha, Brother Shen, you’re so straightforward! Reason: ‘Money.’ Strengths—huh? Shooting champion? What kind?”

Her bell-like voice drew over the three men.

Yang Zhiqi craned his neck to peek. “Yo, the Program Group said this game’s super tough. You in that condition—think you can hack it?”

Shen Li frowned, about to reply.

But then the system’s announcement rang out. “Time’s up. Application channel closed.”

Shen Li eyed the form still in Ke Jiujiu’s hands.

She pressed her palms together in a cute apology. “Sorry~ I forgot about the deadline.”

Shen Li waved it off and said nothing more.

Whatever.

If they all wanted to go that badly, let them.

He could always catch another nap.

What could be happier in this world than others working while he slept?