CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE: FISH-CATCHING FIASCO(1)

Unlike the rest who hadn’t quite managed to adapt, An Ning adjusted beautifully. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel the heat or enjoy sweat rolling down her face. It was simply... part of the job.

Reality show or not, they were being paid to appear on it. And if she had learned anything from years in the industry, it was that effort on camera translated into opportunities off camera.

Besides, compared to night shoots on freezing mountain sets or filming emotional scenes after three days of no sleep, a rice field under the sun was practically a spa day.

The cast barely had time to catch their breath before the director clapped his hands again, proving once more that mercy was not part of the production budget.

"Alright." The director clapped his hands to get their attention. "Now for next segment."

A collective groan rolled across the cast like a soft breeze of despair. Despair had become the unofficial theme of the day.

An Ning straightened, brushing a speck of mud from her wrist. Zhou Zhenyu calmly looked up as if he had already accepted whatever fate awaited them.

"Since An Ning and Zhou Zhenyu placed first in the rice-planting mission," the director announced, practically glowing with joy, "they will get the privilege of choosing their equipment first."

A nervous ripple moved through the cast. Nothing good ever followed that particular smile on the director’s face.

A table was brought out and placed dramatically before the cast.

On it lay three items:

A large woven net.

A traditional bamboo fish trap.

And... a plastic basin.

The discrepancy was not subtle.

The commentary immediately lit up.

[WHY IS THERE A BASIN]

[Director what are you planning]

[Zhou Zhenyu please choose wisely]

Zhou Zhenyu quietly assessed the options. "The net will be the most efficient," he said.

An Ning glanced at the bamboo trap, then at the basin, then back at the director who was smiling suspiciously. "Efficiency is wise," she agreed.

"You two may choose," the director said, far too cheerfully.

"We’ll take the net," An Ning said.

It was the obvious choice, efficient and reliable, very much like the two of them.

The director beamed like a man who had just secured peak entertainment. "Excellent! Please stand by. The next team will choose after you."

Behind them, the remaining cast members stared at the leftover equipment with varying levels of despair.

Wu Shiyun: quietly praying she wouldn’t end up with the basin.

Chen Yiming: already regretting every life decision that led him here.

Sun Qiaolian: smiling gently at the bamboo trap as though it might betray her.

Jiang Shuyue: calculating how to avoid touching fish entirely.

Shen Xiyu: calculating how many seconds it would take before Jiang Shuyue screamed.

Zhao Guangyao: wondering whether mud or fish counted as a worse humiliation.

Beside An Ning’s ear, the little melon hummed with excitement.

"Ningning, this segment is going to be maximum chaos."

"Oh?" An Ning asked mildly.

"Fish are slippery. People panic. Some scream. Some fall. Some accidentally kick water into another person’s face."

An Ning nodded thoughtfully. "I see."

Zhou Zhenyu glanced at her, calm as ever. "We should strategise before entering the water."

"Agreed."

The little melon spun like a delighted top. "Ningning, this will be fun."

An Ning looked toward the shallow pond glistening under the sun.

"It will be something," she said.

The director gestured grandly at the remaining two items. "Next pair, please choose your equipment."

The cast exchanged glances.

Second place: Chen Yiming and Wu Shiyun.

Chen Yiming immediately eyed the bamboo trap. It looked clean. Structured. Contained. Most importantly, it did not slosh water unpredictably.

Wu Shiyun looked at the trap, then at the basin, and decided she would rather perish than be seen chasing fish with a neon-blue plastic tub.

"The trap," she said quickly.

Relief washed over Chen Yiming’s features so clearly that even the cameraman stifled a laugh. "Yes. The trap."

The director made a show of writing it down. "Wonderful! Third pair?"

Now only the basin remained.

Sun Qiaolian and Zhao Guangyao stepped forward.

Sun Qiaolian smiled politely. "We will take—"

"The basin," the director finished for her, still beaming.

Her smile tightened just a little to be considered nature. The basin sat in Sun Qiaolian’s hands like an insult she had been forced to smile through.

Zhao Guangyao’s shoulders sank. He muttered, "Of course."

[Jokes write themselves at this point]

[Sun Qiaolian holding that basin looks like a princess forced into manual labour]

[Guangyao’s expression is killing me]

Which left...

The fourth pair.

Jiang Shuyue and Shen Xiyu.

The two of them stared at the empty table.

Then at each other.

Then at the pond.

Jiang Shuyue sensed doom moments before the director spoke. She wasn’t sure how, but her soul braced itself.

The director clapped once, far too happy. "Since you ranked last, you two will be catching fish... with your bare hands."

A full five seconds of stunned silence followed.

Jiang Shuyue’s soul visibly left her body. Shen Xiyu blinked once, slowly, like a man preparing to meet his ancestors.

For a brief moment, united by shared misery, they understood each other perfectly.

"...Bare hands?" Jiang Shuyue finally whispered.

"Bare hands," the director confirmed cheerfully. "It encourages bonding."

"Bonding with what?" Shen Xiyu asked, sounding spiritually defeated.

"Nature," the director replied.

The livestream chat exploded.

[OH NOOOOOOO]

[BARE HANDS BAHAHAHAHA]

[They couldn’t even plant seedlings, how are they going to catch FISH]

[This is a tragedy and I’m seated]

The little melon nearly combusted with excitement. "Ningning, this is the best pairing decision since the chicken chase!"

An Ning adjusted her grip on the net. "It will be entertaining."

Zhou Zhenyu gave a level nod. "We should focus on catching efficiently."

"Of course."

Behind them, Jiang Shuyue was still frozen.

"Bare hands?" she repeated faintly. "Bare...hands?"

Shen Xiyu exhaled in resignation. "Let us... just get this over with."

The director spread his arms wide.

"Alright, everyone! Into the pond!"

It shimmered innocently under the sun. Which, of course, meant it was hiding maximum suffering.

An Ning stepped forward first, the net slung professionally over her shoulder.

Chaos was about to begin and the cameras were ready.