Melon Eating Cannon Fodder, On Air!-Chapter 58 - Fifty-Eight: Village Chores Begin(1)

One would have thought that with the sun shining a little brighter today and the sky looking a little more blue than yesterday, the director might finally show mercy. Maybe, just maybe, he would remember that this was a dating show, not an endurance test.

Perhaps today’s mission would be something light.

Something charming.

Something that actually resembled romance.

Going to the villagers’ home to help out probably would not be that hard. Right?

It was the kind of hopeful question people asked right before fate answered with a laugh.

*****

In Wu Shiyun’s mind, fruit picking was not supposed to be hard. She had picked fruits before. In idyllic orchards with gentle breezes, curated lighting, and a photographer telling her which angle made the sunlight look most flattering.

It was peaceful.

It was aesthetic.

It was the kind of activity influencers captioned with slow living.

This, however...was not that.

Pretty? Yes.

Sweet? Probably.

Covered in tiny hairs that made her fingertips itch like she was being punished by fate? Absolutely.

Wu Shiyun plucked one peach. Just one.

Her fingers tingled. Then prickled. Then itched so violently she nearly flung the peach away.

She froze, horrified. "Why does it feel like the fruit is attacking me?"

Zhao Guangyao, who had been trying to balance on his own ladder, glanced over.

"It’s just peach fuzz," he said, attempting confidence. "It can irritate the skin."

She turned her head very slowly toward him. "And you thought this was something I did not need to know?"

"I thought everyone knew," he replied, defensive but still trying to look helpful.

She blinked at him. "I am not ’everyone’."

Zhao Guangyao hesitated. "Do you... want gloves?"

"Why were the gloves not given to me earlier?"

"Because," he said carefully, "you said you wanted to try it naturally."

"I did not mean this naturally."

He wisely said nothing.

Wu Shiyun stared up at the tree again, her eyes narrowing.

The branch rustled in the wind.

She felt personally challenged.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, climbing another step. "Peaches should not require combat training."

From below, Zhao Guangyao winced as peach fuzz drifted toward him. He was trying to look composed, but his expression screamed someone who deeply regretted his life choices.

While he was secretly glad that he had been paired with Wu Shiyun, because how else could he showcase his charming, reliable side to her, nothing was going according to plan.

Absolutely nothing.

Especially not now, when the peach fuzz drifting through the air was making his neck itch, his arms itch, his face itch, and possibly even his soul itch. He sighed deeply because luck was apparently not on his side.

The livestream commentary had no mercy.

[His flirting plans have been destroyed by fruit.]

[Peach fuzz: 1. Zhao Guangyao: 0.]

[Shiyun is fighting nature. Guangyao is fighting for dignity.]

Zhao Guangyao clenched the ladder, trying to salvage at least a scrap of masculinity. Unfortunately, the universe was not interested in helping.

Wu Shiyun plucked another peach with the solemn fury of someone declaring war on agriculture itself.

"This show is targeting me personally," she muttered.

Zhao Guangyao cleared his throat. "If you want, I can finish the higher branches."

She paused.

Her pride straightened its metaphorical spine. While she could simply stand there, looking pretty and doing nothing, Wu Shiyun could already imagine how the public would view her.

A useless vase.

A spoiled princess.

A delicate ornament who needed others to lift every peach for her.

The thought alone made her grip the ladder tighter.

"No," she said, more to herself than to Zhao Guangyao. "I can win this tree."

The tree swayed gently, as if amused.

The livestream immediately reacted.

[Shiyun versus Tree. My money is on the tree.]

[Zhao Guangyao is a background character in her battle arc.]

[Director, please give these two a break. They are not built for rural life.]

*****

Compared to fruit-picking, fetching water sounded harmless.

Keyword: sounded.

The villager, an elderly auntie with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, pointed toward the old stone well behind her house.

"You two look young. Strong. Perfect for this," she said warmly.

Jiang Shuyue lit up. "Of course, Auntie! We would love to!"

Chen Yiming slowly turned to her, dread already forming. "We... would?"

Auntie handed them a wooden carrying pole with two metal buckets attached.

It weighed more than Jiang Shuyue expected.

Much more.

She nearly dropped it the moment it touched her shoulders.

"Ah— heavy!" she gasped.

Chen Yiming caught it quickly, the buckets swinging dangerously. "Careful!"

Auntie laughed. "Strong girl like you can handle it."

Jiang Shuyue smiled weakly.

Chen Yiming’s left eye twitched.

They made their way to the well, the buckets clanging with every step. When they reached it, Chen Yiming peered inside.

The well was... deep.

And dark.

And absolutely, unquestionably filthy.

"I cannot do this," he whispered.

"You cannot?" Jiang Shuyue stared at him.

Chen Yiming bristled. "This is unsanitary."

"This entire show is unsanitary."

He considered this. "Fair point."

A villager walking by chuckled. "Just drop the bucket and pull it up. Simple."

Chen Yiming inhaled as if preparing for surgery. "I will do it."

He lowered the bucket.

Jiang Shuyue supervised helpfully from a distance. "Yes, yes. You are doing great."

He shot her a flat look. "You are not helping."

"I am providing moral support."

"You are providing commentary."

She gasped. "Commentary is support!"

The bucket hit water with a splash. Chen Yiming slowly pulled it up, arms tense, jaw clenched, soul leaving his body from the strain and the dirt.

Water sloshed everywhere. Including onto his shoes.

Chen Yiming froze. "My... shoes."

Jiang Shuyue winced. "It is just water."

"It is well water!"

"It is still water."

"It touched me."

"...Do you want me to do the next bucket?" she offered weakly.

He hesitated.

"Yes," he said, defeated. "Please."

She took the rope. The bucket plunged down. A few seconds later, she began pulling.

She pulled.

And pulled.

And kept pulling.

Chen Yiming frowned. "Shuyue... why are you taking so long?"

She strained. "I think... it is... stuck."

"How is it stuck?"

"I do not know! Maybe the well spirit is angry!"

"There is no well spirit."

"Then why is it not moving?!"

He sighed, took the rope from her, and pulled. The bucket came up smoothly.

She blinked. "It was... stuck for me."

"No," he said dryly. "You were standing on the rope."

Shuyue looked down.

She was indeed standing on the rope. "Oh."

When they finally returned the water to the auntie, she nodded approvingly and handed them an envelope.

"For the effort," she said.

They opened it.

Two dollars.

The faint sound of Jiang Shuyue’s soul cracking could be heard across the village.

Chen Yiming stared numbly at the bill. "I touched well water... for two dollars..."

Jiang Shuyue patted his arm solemnly. "Heroes are rarely rewarded.

The livestream responded with immediate heartfelt condolences.

[They survived mud, survived fish, survived ladders... and got TWO DOLLARS]

[Jiang Shuyue steeping on the rope will live rent-free in my mind]

[Did anyone mention how she was supervising from a safe distance?]

[It probably taken all of Chen Yiming’s upbringing to resist the urge to just ask her to shut up and help]

*****

While the first two pairs were suffering, the director was having a noticeably better morning.

He sat comfortably beneath a wide parasol, sipping wolfberry tea as if he were on a leisurely vacation rather than supervising a show where emotional and physical destruction occurred on an hourly basis. The breeze was gentle.

The birds chirped. The distant sounds of Jiang Shuyue shrieking and Chen Yiming lamenting his shoes floated through the air like background music.

To him, it was symphonic. The suffering of others carried a certain artistic rhythm, one the director had long since learned to appreciate.

The production assistant approached with a tablet. "Director, the live comments are... active."

"Active is good," the director said, swirling his tea with pride. "Active means ratings."

A distant clang echoed through the village. The director did not flinch.

"Should we check on them?" the assistant asked hesitantly.

The director raised a brow. "Why? They are completing tasks and providing content. Everything is going according to plan."

Another scream sounded. Possibly Shuyue. Possibly a villager’s chicken. Hard to tell from this distance.

The assistant glanced awkwardly toward the chaos. "It seems intense."

"It is a heartwarming village task," the director said serenely. "Where is the intensity in drawing water from a well?"

A bucket splashed loudly somewhere in the distance. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The director continued sipping his tea.

The assistant cleared his throat. "And the peach-picking team?"

The director’s smile widened. "A delightful pairing. The fuzz will make Shiyun itch. Guangyao will pretend he is fine. It is good character-building."

The assistant stared at him. "... are you sure this is still a dating show?"

The director tapped his clipboard thoughtfully. "Romance needs hardship. Hardship builds tension. Tension creates chemistry."

A peach thudded heavily against something. Someone yelped.

The director nodded with satisfaction. "See? Chemistry is developing already."