Melon Eating Cannon Fodder, On Air!-Chapter 60 - Sixty: The Arrival

The tasks were completed, but the cast were worse for wear.

The sun dipped low, casting orange streaks across the village, and the group trudged back to the meeting point like soldiers returning from an unnecessarily tragic war. Their clothes were dusty, hair was frazzled and dignity was... negotiable.

But they had envelopes.

Some thick, some thin, one suspiciously limp. These envelopes contained their earnings, the golden currency upon which the success of their guest room as well as the purity of their pride depended.

The director stood waiting, clipboard in hand, radiating the type of cheerfulness only found in those who did not suffer.

"Excellent work, everyone!" he chirped, as if they hadn’t nearly died fetching water, battling peach fuzz and questioning their life choices in the cornfield.

"Let us tally your earnings."

The cast gathered around a wooden table. One by one, they emptied their envelopes.

Zhou Zhenyu and Sun Qiaolian:

$15 from harvesting corn, husking it, and stacking it neatly for the villagers.

Respectable. Efficient. Surprisingly aesthetic footage.

An Ning and Shen Xiyu:

$18 for harvesting rice and threshing it. An Ning had earned the vast majority of this. Shen Xiyu’s contribution came mostly from "maintaining orderly bundles" and being "polite."

The villagers truly appreciated manners.

Wu Shiyun and Zhao Guangyao:

$10 for fruit picking, despite Wu Shiyun accidentally bruising several peaches and Zhao Guangyao nearly falling off his ladder twice.

The villagers were generous out of pity, which the director thought was excellent content.

Jiang Shuyue and Chen Yiming:

$2.

Silence blanketed the table.

Chen Yiming stared at the single bill as though it had personally insulted him.

Jiang Shuyue whispered, "We suffered so much..."

The director patted his clipboard sympathetically. "Yes, you did."

The livestream chat went feral.

[THEY GOT TWO DOLLARS]

[I screamed]

[Chen Yiming touched well water for TWO DOLLARS]

[Shuyue stood on the rope and cursed the well spirit for TWO DOLLARS]

The director cleared his throat. "Your total is... forty-five dollars. Enough to create a comfortable guest room if you plan wisely."

The cast exchanged glances.

Planning wisely was not this group’s strongest attribute.

"Now," the director continued, "you must divide the work. One pair will tidy the room. One pair will purchase decorations and supplies. One pair will cook. And the last pair will... assist wherever necessary."

Assist.

Such a polite way to say "be ready for chaos."

He gestured. "Please discuss and decide."

They formed a loose circle.

Sun Qiaolian warmly clasped her hands. "I think decorating would be lovely."

Zhou Zhenyu nodded. "I can carry larger items from the shop."

The group agreed immediately. One competent decorator and one competent human pack mule. Done.

Next, An Ning and Shen Xiyu.

An Ning said, "I can tidy. It is straightforward."

Shen Xiyu added, "I can help with organising."

Translation:

She would do 80%.

He would label things politely and stay out of the way.

Perfect.

Wu Shiyun straightened her back. "I will cook," she declared.

Everyone stared.

She glared. "I can cook."

Deep silence.

Then Chen Yiming raised his hand slowly. "I will assist."

The director nearly cried from joy. The sun would set with content and drama.

Finally, Jiang Shuyue and Zhao Guangyao were left.

"We can run errands," Jiang Shuyue suggested cheerfully, pretending not to notice how exhausted she still looked from the well incident. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Zhao Guangyao forced a smile. "I am good at carrying things."

He was not. Everyone knew he was not. But no one bothered to question it.

And so the tasks were assigned.

*****

The Decorating Duo

Sun Qiaolian and Zhou Zhenyu walked to the small general store with the seriousness of diplomats.

The store was tiny, packed with colourful paper lanterns, woven blankets, clay pots and approximately twelve types of questionable wall hangings.

Sun Qiaolian clasped her chin thoughtfully. "We must create something warm, elegant and tasteful."

Zhou Zhenyu nodded. "And within budget."

"Budget," she repeated softly, as though the word itself caused her emotional pain.

Still, she was talented.

They selected soft-toned bedding, a small vase, a few paper lanterns and a delicate embroidered cloth that would serve as the room’s centrepiece.

At checkout, the total came to $32.

Sun Qiaolian’s soul left her body briefly.

Her smile returned. "This will be wonderful."

*****

The Cleaning Team

Meanwhile, An Ning and Shen Xiyu inspected the guest room.

It was... not terrible.

But not good.

Dust clung to the corners. The air smelled faintly of wood and old stories. A single lonely chair sat by the window.

An Ning rolled up her sleeves. "Let’s begin."

Shen Xiyu nodded earnestly. "I will sweep."

He began sweeping.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

So slowly that a snail outside the window was making more progress.

But he was trying, and that was what mattered.

An Ning wiped down the surfaces, aired out the bedding and arranged furniture with efficiency that made the camera crew whisper admiration.

By the time the others returned, the room already looked halfway livable.

*****

The Cooking Team

In the kitchen, Wu Shiyun stared at the ingredients.

Fresh vegetables.

Farm eggs.

Rice.

A whole chicken that was staring at her like it knew she wasn’t qualified.

Chen Yiming handed her a knife. "Do you need help?"

She took a steadying breath. "No. I can do this."

She could not.

Five minutes later, she was aggressively peeling garlic with the energy of someone fighting a personal grudge.

Chen Yiming gently guided her hand. "Not like that. You will bruise it."

She paused. "Garlic bruises?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Everything in this village bruises."

He handed her a bowl. "Stir this."

She nodded. This was fine. Stirring was safe.

He began chopping vegetables with careful precision. Surprisingly competent.

"So you can cook?" she asked.

"I can follow instructions," he replied modestly.

They made a surprisingly effective team.

The broth simmered. Vegetables sizzled. The kitchen filled with warm aromas.

And Wu Shiyun, for once, did not scream.

*****

The Errand Pair

Jiang Shuyue and Zhao Guangyao returned with additional supplies: extra candles, two hand towels, and a potted plant that looked dangerously close to death.

But it had been on sale. They were budget heroes.

*****

The Final Result

As dusk deepened, everything came together.

Soft bedding.

Warm lantern light.

Freshly swept floors.

The scent of home-cooked dishes drifting through the air.

The director walked in.

He froze.

He blinked.

He smiled slowly, deeply, with the satisfaction of a man who had expected disaster and been pleasantly betrayed by competence.

"This..." he breathed, "...is beautiful."

The cast exhaled in collective relief.

Then the director added:

"Of course, the real test begins when the guest arrives."

Every head lifted.

Every shoulder tensed.

Every heart paused.

Because they all knew:

Things had only just started.

The director checked his watch and smiled a little too pleasantly. "On that note, please tidy yourselves up. The guest will be arriving this evening."

Silence.

Then panic.

"This evening?" Jiang Shuyue squeaked. "As in... today?"

"Yes," the director replied cheerfully. "In just a while more."

The cast stared at him as though he had announced the arrival of a deity rather than a guest. Several of them visibly recalculated their lives.

Sun Qiaolian immediately patted her hair, smoothed her blouse and checked her reflection in the nearest window. "I must look presentable. First impressions matter."

Zhou Zhenyu straightened a lantern by a millimetre simply because it felt appropriate.

Shen Xiyu quietly dusted his sleeves, still recovering from rice-related trauma yet determined not to greet a guest looking wilted.

Chen Yiming glanced down at his slightly damp shoes and sighed. "I should have brought a spare pair."

Jiang Shuyue inhaled deeply and tried to adopt a serene posture. The effect was ruined when she stumbled over a candle holder.

An Ning remained composed, adjusting a cushion on the bed with her usual grace. "We did well," she said softly.

Wu Shiyun exhaled. "The chicken survived. The broth tastes good. I consider this a victory."

The director clapped once. "Excellent attitude. Now gather in the courtyard. The guest will arrive shortly."

They filed out into the courtyard, lit gently by warm lanterns and the faint shimmer of twilight. The village was quiet, almost reverent, as if even the crickets sensed that something significant was about to occur.

The cast arranged themselves in a loose line.

Some stood confidently.

Some tried to appear confident.

Some simply accepted their fate.

Zhao Guangyao whispered, "Who do you think the guest is?"

Sun Qiaolian replied calmly, "The director looks too pleased. It must be someone special."

Chen Yiming frowned slightly. "Famous?"

Shen Xiyu considered this. "Perhaps an industry senior."

Jiang Shuyue’s eyes sparkled. "What if it is a top idol?"

Wu Shiyun’s shoulders stiffened. "If it is someone I once called unnie, I will scream."

An Ning listened quietly. She had her guesses, but none she was willing to voice.

The director walked to the entrance of the courtyard and checked his watch once more.

"Places, everyone."

The cast straightened instinctively.

A soft engine rumbled in the distance.

Lights approached along the dirt road, illuminating the trees in passing flickers of gold. The car slowed, drawing closer, until it finally stopped just outside the villa gate.

The cast held their breath.

The door opened.

A polished shoe stepped onto the ground.

The director’s smile widened with barely contained excitement.

"Everyone," he said brightly, "please welcome our guest."

The figure stepped forward, silhouetted by the headlights.

The entire cast leaned in slightly.

An Ning’s eyes narrowed in mild curiosity.

Wu Shiyun whispered, "Please let it not be someone who watched me peel garlic."

The lanterns flickered across the courtyard as the shadowed figure crossed the threshold.

The moment stretched.

Then the guest lifted her head, revealing a familiar face with soft features, elegant poise and eyes that carried stories.

The cast collectively gasped.

Because even after years away, she was unmistakable.

Lu Jiaxin had arrived.

It is the Lu Jiaxin.

And the night was no longer calm.