Chapter 35 Part 2

This raised another issue. Since the production team allowed them to use any man-made debris on the island, building simple ground cages from plastic bottles and buckets would obviously be easier.

But upon learning the production team demanded they collect ten kilograms of trash in exchange for just one hour of usage rights, Weng Kai was the first to explode: “Has Bai Yong gone mad?!”

Even the normally composed elder, Chu Chengpeng, found it hard to accept. “Plastic bottles are so light. Picking up ten kilos will take ages.”

Ji Nuo adjusted the cub in his arms—who had already dozed off into a daze—and nodded in agreement. “That’s why we thought it’d be better to weave ground cages from vines instead. They actually work better for catching fish than plastic bottles anyway.”

Everyone else agreed. Conveniently, Weng Kai had learned a method for weaving conical ground cages in a previous show. They decided on the spot to put down the coconut leaves first and each weave a ground cage to place in the water.

The large pot of seafood and snail soup was quickly devoured by the group. The pot was then restored to its function as a simple desalinator to continue distilling fresh water.

The little dumplings, now full and content, were arranged in one spot. A layer of coconut palm fibers served as the base. For comfort, over a dozen layers of woven coconut leaves were laid on top, plus two layers of the adults’ clothes, creating a large, temporary communal bed. Ji Nuo gently placed the sleeping cub, now soft as a little rice cake, among them.

The adults sat in a circle to learn vine-weaving from Weng Kai.

This task was a bit harder than weaving coconut leaves, but fortunately, each person only needed to make one, giving every team two cages—plenty for their needs.

The torn waterproof tarp they found earlier while picking up trash was ripped into strips and knotted together to serve as rope.

After a row of people finished weaving, they quickly found suitable spots, stuffed leftover oyster and snail shells into the cages, and lowered them into the water, marking their locations.

Once the ground cages were set, Ji Nuo and Han Cheng took their awoken cub and set off exploring again. The remaining guests felt much more at ease. Bolstered by the flavorful snail soup, their zeal for weaving coconut leaves was rekindled even stronger.

Once again robbed of his spotlight, William watched the group’s tension dissipate as they once more traded jokes and banter. He tried to join the conversation.

In a mix of English and Chinese, he asked if anyone had ever eaten coconut crab. He’d been lucky enough to try it once during a mission. He highlighted how massive the crabs were, how rich their roe was, how much meat they had, and how sweet and delicious they tasted when charcoal-grilled.

Kang Feier, translating for him, was soon salivating. “If only we could catch one too, or even some mountain crabs!”

The others looked envious. That sort of expensive, high-end coconut crab was something they all craved even normally, let alone stranded on a deserted island with food and shelter so precarious.

A dark glint flickered through William’s eyes. Very satisfied with how the topic had developed, he continued subtly guiding it. “I wonder how many jin theirs was. These giant hermit crabs can grow up to ten jin.”

Peng Li recalled their experiences in Jade Mountain Town and remembered the Thelephora ganbajun and matsutake mushrooms Lu Ao’ao had found—all super-sized. She couldn’t help but lick her lips. “Probably the biggest one. That kid’s luck is always extraordinary.”

Nearby, the Little Fatty, who’d been groggy and listless after his nap, suddenly snapped awake upon hearing this topic. “Coconut crab? I want coconut crab too!”

William deliberately shook his head, his Chinese stilted. “Sorry, Linlin. Coconut crab was caught by Lu Ao’ao. He didn’t share with you.”

The Little Fatty instantly exploded. “Ten jin, so much! Why shouldn’t he share with me?!”

Kang Feier had to interject. “Linlin, that belongs to Lu Ao’ao. He has no obligation to share with you.”

The Little Fatty glared at his stepmother. Naturally, he was hostile toward this woman who had replaced his mother. But unlike the prickly barbs he aimed at others, his default attitude toward Kang Feier was simple disregard.

William stepped in as peacemaker at just the right moment, switching to English. “Miss Kang is right. But if it really was a ten-jin coconut crab, it’s quite normal for Linlin to want some.”

William was attempting to sow discord. After all, they were all guests on the same show. Why should they toil miserably here weaving coconut leaves while Ji Nuo and Han Cheng got to feast on mountain and sea delicacies?

Peng Li and Chu Chengpeng had always been quiet, but since they’d been part of the conversation, they commented rationally. “Ten jin or twenty, it’s their luck. If the coconut crab hadn’t been enough, we might not have even gotten the snail soup. They’re impressive, and sending us soup was very generous. We’re already very grateful.”

They all knew the snail soup was nothing compared to the coconut crab William described, but the snail meat in the soup was still real meat, and a plentiful amount at that. They’d already gained a huge advantage.

The others shared this view. Having already witnessed little Lu Ao’ao’s European-level luck in the first episode, and again in the second, they were more accustomed than envious. However, no one openly contradicted William. After all, he had indeed worked tirelessly today, and his Chinese wasn’t good, so maybe he just couldn’t find the right words.

Before long, the conversation organically shifted to singing the praises of Ji Nuo’s family:

“That snail soup was so good. I haven’t tasted broth this fresh and sweet in years.”

“Hahaha, I’m practically begging for Ao’ao to find another coconut snail and crab so I can mooch another bowl of soup~”

“That kid’s luck is truly unreal, you have to accept it. I even secretly held his little hand while he was asleep, hehehe. Maybe tonight my ground cage will be overflowing.”

“You’re too smart, Brother Peng! Why didn’t you call me over for that?! Next time, I’m sneaking a handshake too…”

Seeing his efforts backfire, William immediately smiled and joined the chorus praising Lu Ao’ao.

His slightly skewed earlier comment could be rationalized as an attempt to mediate between Kang Feier and the Little Fatty, taking each side once. It seemed reasonable, and he had genuinely helped everyone greatly, so no one thought much of it.

Only the Little Fatty, Xu Xiaolin, wore an expression of pure displeasure. Milk, coconut bread, snail soup—all of it was bottom-tier food to him. He was already a hundred times dissatisfied, and hearing how well Lu Ao’ao was eating only deepened his resentment.

If William hadn’t given him a covert warning glance, he would have thrown another tantrum by now. But recalling the plan they’d agreed upon earlier, the Little Fatty uncharacteristically held his tongue.

~

The sun rose in the east and set in the west. As shady areas on the island grew, the family of three chose a cool, easy-to-walk route and explored.

The little koi fish’s luck seemed to have been spent entirely on the coconut crab and snail. In the afternoon, the three of them found wild taro and wild mangoes, but the former was potentially poisonous, and the latter had only just started fruiting—completely inedible.

Finally, Han Cheng found a sea patch with gentler waves and went into the water to scout again. Using his dirtied T-shirt as a makeshift net, he managed to scoop up seven sea urchins—better than nothing.

By the time the three returned, the other guests had finally finished constructing two natural tents, one large and one small. The entire village’s hopes now rested on the ground cages they had placed in the sea earlier that afternoon.

As dusk fell, every team reaped a modest catch of two or three small crabs and fish. Combined with coconut meat, it was enough to fill their stomachs.

As for Ji Nuo and Han Cheng, perhaps because Lu Ao’ao had chosen the spot for their cages, one of their traps mirrored the others: a few small crabs and fish, but slightly larger in size. The other cage, however, had trapped an injured moray eel weighing five or six jin.

This level of luck from Lu Ao’ao no longer drew a crowd from the other guests. In fact, a trend was emerging—in everyone’s understanding, it would be strange if Lu Ao’ao’s group didn’t catch something different.

The distilled water continued boiling. Everyone imitated Han Cheng’s method, building stone stoves and roasting seafood over charcoal with coconut shells and wood.

Eel meat was naturally delicious; the simplest cooking method provided a gratifying experience for the taste buds.

However, for Lu Aotian, who didn’t eat fish, lacking enough seasoning to suppress the fishy smell meant he had zero interest in the moray eel.

Luckily, he’d eaten his fill at lunch. When dinner began, he wasn’t very hungry. Two grilled sea urchins, one crab, and the coconut bread roll he hadn’t eaten at noon were enough to satisfy his little belly.

As for the other picky eater, the big version of Ao’ao…

Han Cheng stared at the grilled eel, its aroma charred and tantalizing. Forcing down his deep-seated resistance, he took a single bite. He barely managed to keep it down. Plain, unadulterated fish was still something he couldn’t handle.

Lu Aotian leaned against a stone block, happily sucking on his milk. Watching Han Cheng’s face turn green as he struggled with the fish, his heart was filled with mockery: Idiot. Did he really think Ji Nuo’s hands could turn stone into gold? That fishy stench just disappears with a touch?

Even a clever housewife can’t cook without rice. Without seasoning, even Ji Nuo was helpless. This Han Cheng, who copied his character model, was truly a fool. Although he wouldn’t look like this for another ten years, he still worried this dumb little celebrity might drag down his own Long Aotian reputation.

Mulling over how to prevent Han Cheng from leeching off his future self’s image, Lu Aotian nursed his milk. The sea breeze blew, the scent of charcoal grilling filled the air, and within moments, his eyelids stuck together.

In the end, all the moray eel ended up in Ji Nuo’s stomach.

By the time Ji Nuo and Han Cheng were full, Lu Aotian had slumped crookedly against the stone block, snoring softly.

Han Cheng smothered the campfire with sand. Ji Nuo smiled and scooped up the little cub, who had fallen asleep in a ridiculous position. The two of them walked toward their simple tent.

Knowing that a flimsy tent couldn’t block the noise of the waves, they pitched their shelter near the woven grass tents the other guests had built, leaving a few meters’ distance for soundproofing. The three tents were positioned to form an equilateral triangle.

Although the production team could be harsh, they didn’t intend for the guests to live like complete savages.

Near the edge of the coconut grove, they had installed a simple shower room and a simple toilet. The shower was for maintaining hygiene, while the toilet prevented everyone from wandering around the unlit island at night to do their business, risking accidents.

Seeing the child sleeping so deeply, Ji Nuo couldn’t bear to wake him. Since it was only the first day and they weren’t very dirty, he decided a quick wipe-down with warm water would suffice.

He figured the kid definitely wouldn’t want Han Cheng to see his precious body, so he sent Han Cheng to shower first. But the moment he put the child down and turned, he accidentally pulled a muscle in his back.

After a short rest, he felt somewhat better, so he continued wiping down the little one. By the time it was his turn to shower, the pain had returned.

This pain felt foreign to him. It wasn’t the solid, tangible ache of a fall or impact—flesh, bone, and skin hurting unmistakably.

This was more like a single tendon twisting inside his flesh, a distinct pulling, wrenching kind of pain.

The discomfort that had gradually subsided earlier suddenly intensified when he raised his arm to rinse the suds off his body.

Ji Nuo nearly lost his footing and fell, barely catching himself on the shower fixture. As long as he stood completely still, the sharp pain dulled into a faint, spreading ache. But the moment he tried to move, the agony would flare up fiercely.

Soon, sweat dripped from Ji Nuo’s forehead.

Partly because others were waiting to use the bathroom, and the longer he stayed, the more anxious he became. Partly because the pain that flared with each attempted move was becoming unbearable.