Chapter 10 Part 1

If only four rooms were available, some unlucky soul was bound to draw the wretched one. Other guests, seeing someone else get stuck with it, would only feel relief.

But the production team deliberately set it up as a five-choice-four scenario where someone still perfectly stepped on the landmine. The other three groups, besides feeling relieved, inevitably found it a little amusing and laughed with schadenfreude.

“Aiya, Little Ji, how did this happen? Did you forget to sing ‘Good Luck Comes’?”

“What kind of room is this Mystery Suite anyway?”

“Too tragic, haha…”

Ji Nuo, however, was used to his rollercoaster, mostly plummeting, destiny. He crouched down to apologize to the little one: “Sorry, Ao’ao. Uncle drew a terrible room.”

Lu Aotian had been radiating disgust ever since Ji Nuo returned from drawing the lot. Hearing this, he just gave him a sidelong glare, folded his arms, and turned away, not even bothering to huff.

Ji Nuo rubbed his nose, picked up their two suitcases, and followed the group to see exactly how terrible their Mystery Suite for the night was.

The small courtyard where they started recording was the backup: a simple farmer’s large bungalow. When the little dumpling Ruirui drew it, he was initially a bit gloomy. But when he heard his foster parents say they could rest right away without having to walk further, he cheered up a little.

The little dumpling looked up at his foster parents, both nearly fifty, and asked cautiously: “Do Mom and Dad like living here?”

The Chu couple immediately smiled warmly and answered: “Of course we do. Thank you, Ruirui, for drawing the bungalow.”

Excluding the three members of the Old Dramatist Chu family, the remaining larger group walked less than five hundred meters before arriving at the second lodging – the Jade Spring Inn.

Kang Feier, holding her daughter, breathed a sigh of relief. Although the production team, mindful of her managing alone, had an assistant help with the luggage, she was wearing delicate mid-heeled sandals and carrying a little meatball, which was quite exhausting.

The township inn’s conditions were far from her own nanny’s room at home, but at a glance, it looked clean and tidy. From her perspective, it was much better than the Chu family’s bungalow—no need for tidying, you could just move in. Let alone comparing it to Ji Nuo’s bottom-of-the-barrel Mystery Suite.

Continuing down the path, besides the staff, only the Weng family of three and the “father-son” duo, Ji Nuo, remained.

Weng Kai was always the atmosphere guy on major variety shows. On most recorded shows, creating atmosphere was easier, since they only edited the most exciting clips. But this live variety show really tested his skill as the mood maker.

Although the Producer didn’t require him to act like a clown 24/7, he felt he had to perform somewhat at the start of recording.

Seeing the lights dwindling as the road went on, Weng Kai gave a sly chuckle: “A dark and windy night is truly perfect for…”

His wife, Ming Yu, shot him a sidelong glance: “Be serious.”

Weng Kai clicked his tongue: “What are you thinking? I was going to say it’s perfect for telling ghost stories.”

His precious daughter Tiantian in his arms immediately protested, covering her ears: “Aiya, Daddy’s so annoying! Tiantian doesn’t want to hear ghost stories!”

Weng Kai could only turn awkwardly toward the dark-skinned little Ao’ao, who was almost invisible in the darkness: “Little friend, do you want to hear a ghost story?”

Ao’ao, expression cold, had absolutely no desire to engage with Weng Kai. His mind was entirely on how much longer this damn road would go on.

Though he was loath to admit it, his weak toddler body was already struggling. But he didn’t want to be carried around like a real little brat.

Seeing this, Ji Nuo had no choice but to play along: “Brother Weng likes ghost stories?”

Weng Kai let out a creepy cackle: “I only like telling them to people who are scared. Are you scared?”

Ji Nuo shook his head, his voice listless and weak: “Right now, no ghost story is scarier to me than tonight’s lodging.”

This instantly made not only Weng Kai but also the surrounding staff laugh.

After all, the remaining two groups consisted of the one staying in the most luxurious small villa and the other in the worst Mystery Suite. The contrast couldn’t be more tragic.

With this back-and-forth, the atmosphere immediately livened up.

After sending off the Weng couple, although the danmaku still had sporadic outbursts from Cen Xi fans and haters, the main discussion was about the stark contrast:

[Damm, worthy of being the richest family. This small villa could pass for a Cloud City mansion, my tears of envy are drooling from the corner of my mouth.]

[Hhhh, the production team is so sly, deliberately making these two the last ones?]

[I’m so curious what Ji Nuo’s Mystery Suite looks like. Want to laugh at Ji Nuo, but also a bit worried my cub won’t sleep well, QAQ…]

The road grew increasingly dilapidated, and with the dim light, Ji Nuo was genuinely worried the child might trip. But Ao’ao never liked being carried. Ji Nuo decided to put on an act first.

“It’s so cold tonight, oh,” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered exaggeratedly, then sniffled and turned to the child, “Ao’ao, Uncle is so cold. Let me hold you to warm up, okay?”

The little one paused for a few seconds before answering gravely: “Fine.” This sickly, weak henchman really was hopeless.

As soon as Ji Nuo scooped him up, Lu Aotian couldn’t help clicking his tongue: “You stink of that milky baby smell.”

Ji Nuo rubbed the child’s cold limbs, effortlessly held the child, and quickened his pace, asking, puzzled: “What milky baby smell?”

Lu Aotian couldn’t be bothered to respond. He turned his little head, and by the hazy moonlight, looked toward a short, squat building not far away. It was their shelter for the night.

The house wasn’t small, but it was ridiculously dilapidated. At first glance, it looked like a condemned building. Upon closer inspection, it was even worse than the first glance.

The windows and doors were either broken or decayed, and the walls were covered in large and small cracks.

Amid a chain of soul-searching questions in the danmaku, Ji Nuo couldn’t help but ask the staff: “This house… it won’t actually collapse, right?”

The staff member smiled apologetically: “Rest assured, before recording, we hired workers to reinforce it. Although it looks broken, it definitely won’t collapse.”

It was too dark for Ji Nuo to notice the black look on the cub in his arms. His mind was fully occupied with how to get through this night. After carrying the child and doing a loop around the house’s exterior and interior, he understood.

What the production team had reinforced was just one bedroom and the kitchen. But even then, it was only reinforced to prevent accidents – the doors, windows, and walls were full of holes and drafts everywhere.

The kitchen was practically Syrian civil-war chic. Beside the earthen stove lay equally broken tools and grains and oils of unknown storage duration.

Though it was late July, Jade Mountain Town was nestled between mountains and rivers, and nighttime temperatures were much lower than in the city. Spending a night in such a house was a recipe for catching a cold, especially with a malnourished, underdeveloped human cub in tow.

When Ji Nuo raised his concerns, the staff member, who had clearly been waiting for this, immediately revealed a sly smile: “Of course, we’ve prepared remedial measures for you.”

Then he brought out a large tray. On it lay a stack of old newspapers, a pile of plastic sheeting, and three rolls of specially oversized duct tape.

The staff member smiled as he introduced them: “Because the guests haven’t earned any living expenses yet on the first day, the production team has locally sourced free old newspapers and plastic sheeting for you. The duct tape can also be advanced on credit—10 yuan per roll. We’ve already consulted with a worker; you’ll likely need two to three rolls.”

Lu Aotian, upon hearing this, rolled his eyes so hard they nearly reached the sky. This crappy house was going to cost thirty bucks?

Even the audience, despite having no goodwill toward Ji Nuo, felt the production team had gone too far:

[Clearly, they could just rob him of 30 yuan, but the show graciously gave him duct tape. I’m crying, everyone.]

[That dog Bai Yong, seriously, I’m moved to tears.]

[Even ghosts wouldn’t live in this house, and they’re presenting it like it’s some grand gift from the show, tsk tsk…]

Ji Nuo took the three rolls of tape and examined them. The staff member smiled again and asked: “You confirm the credit then? Our interest rate is calculated based on…”

The danmaku was just reeling from the production team’s unprecedented shamelessness when they saw Ji Nuo push the duct tape back into the staff member’s arms. Holding the cub with one hand and the tray with the other, he said: “Thanks, I only need the free stuff. That will be enough.”

The staff member, full of question marks, tried to remind him: “But if the child gets sick from the cold, the cold medicine will be even more expensive…”

Ji Nuo responded lightly, without hesitation, and turned to walk into the “condemned building.”

~

Ji Nuo’s mother had run away right after he was born. His grandmother, fearing he’d hinder his father’s remarriage if he stayed in the city, took him back to the countryside. It wasn’t until her death that he was brought back to Ji Shufeng’s side. As a result, he was very familiar with rural life.

Carrying the tray and the child, Ji Nuo went straight into the battle-damaged kitchen. He first cleared a small wooden stool for the child to sit on: “Wait here. Uncle will see what we can use.”

Although it was a distant memory, Lu Aotian had also known hardship. Watching Ji Nuo’s slender limbs and sickly, frail appearance, his beautiful peach blossom eyes narrowed with distrust.

Ji Nuo quickly discovered that the seemingly long-abandoned grains and oils in the kitchen were likely deliberately prepared by the production team.

Although a check of the production dates showed they were all near-expiration, the house, broken as it was, had been vacant for at least three to five years. These supplies weren’t that old.

This included the extremely prominent oversized iron wok. Though it was coated with greasy grime and ash, there wasn’t a single trace of rust. It was clearly intentionally coated with an oil film to prevent oxidation – an old rural method for treating iron woks.

After finding the bag of flour, Ji Nuo also dug out a packet of glutinous rice flour. Considering a child’s weak digestion wasn’t suited for too much glutinous rice, he still saved the wheat flour and decided to use the glutinous rice flour to make paste.

The method was similar to wheat flour paste, very simple, and glutinous rice flour had higher viscosity, requiring less. However, making paste first required dealing with the greasy wok and pot scrubber.

The pot scrubber looked like a small broom but was actually a rural tool specifically for cleaning woks. The earthen stove’s iron wok was huge and heavy, difficult to move, so they mostly used the scrubber to sweep the dirty water out of the wok.

He first gave the earthen stove iron wok a basic clean. The water in the kitchen vat was unclear if replaced by the production team, but since it wasn’t for cooking, its cleanliness didn’t matter much.

Ji Nuo tore off a small piece of pine kindling to light the stove. Then he efficiently added water and baking soda. First, he threw the greasy pot scrubber in and brought it to a boil, slowly stirring with the spatula nearby. As the water temperature rose, the oil and grease in the wok gradually turned white and floated to the surface, looking even more disgusting.

The vast majority of viewers in the live stream had numerous questions about this:

[What’s Ji Nuo brewing? A Gargamel potion? Looks so gross…]

[Hahahaha, look at Ao’ao’s expression, quick! LOL, it’s practically “pitiful, weak, and suffering.”]

[Hahahaha, screenshotting! That ‘agony mask’ meme is mine!]

Meanwhile, the staff member waiting nearby hadn’t just prepared “loan sharking”; he was also ready to offer expensive paid assistance to the celebrity guests who were useless with their hands.

Seeing this, the staff member also chimed in with the danmaku’s questions: “What is Little Teacher Ji doing there?”

“Making soap,” Ji Nuo said. Amid everyone’s confusion, he lowered the heat, added water, then threw the nearby dirty rag into the wok as well. Before the water got too hot, he used the soap granules already produced by the reaction of the oil, grease, and baking soda in the pot to scrub both the rag and the pot scrubber clean.

The fat and oil, heated and saponified with baking soda, produced sodium fatty acids—the main component of soap. This was knowledge Ji Nuo learned in high school, but its practical application was something he’d mastered from a very young age.

Actually, he didn’t need this much soap in one go, but the ingredients were mixed with too much dust and sand, so Ji Nuo didn’t plan on saving it for later use.

At the live broadcast site, Ji Nuo had already efficiently cleaned everything. He restarted the fire to boil water. At the same time, he found a small basin and mixed the glutinous rice flour with cold water until thin and smooth.