Chapter 9

Chapter 9

That’s a dirty trick!

If she refused, she’d probably be torn apart by the audience.

But before Wen Zhi could respond, the old villager driving the cart spoke up: "No way. Kids need adult supervision. Otherwise who’s to stop someone from selling off a whole cart of kids?"

Since the villager refused, Wen Bingchun could only watch as Wen Zhi and the three children rode away on the cart.

Xiao Wen totally lost it, plonking down on the ground and wailing, "It’s all your fault! It’s all your fault! I’m gonna tell Mom when we get home!"

Wen Bingchun was getting a headache: Before the show, he’d promised to behave and listen.

The heat was bad enough already, and the crying made it even more grating.

"This kid’s so hard to deal with. His crying’s giving me a headache."

"Can’t really blame Xiao Wen, though. All the other kids got to go—I’d cry too."

"I’d blame my sister too if I were him. If she hadn’t refused the snacks, they wouldn’t have missed the ride. She’s already faced consequences twice—she should learn her lesson."

Wen Bingchun’s fans weren’t happy.

"Our Ice Princess was just looking out for her brother. Eating too many snacks isn’t good—blame the show’s tricky setup."

"Yeah, and isn’t it bad to take snacks from strangers anyway?"

"What strangers? They already met earlier. Everyone else took them—she’s the only one playing the prude."

The three kids clung to the back of the cart, looking back at the fading cries mixed with the shrill chirping of cicadas.

Xiao Xiao blinked. "Poor little Xiao Wen."

Liang Sensen nodded in agreement, then turned to Mu Mu. "Will his legs give out from walking?"

Mu Mu analyzed seriously, "They won’t fall off." He’d once had to kneel for hours without his legs giving out.

But Xiao Wen seemed… fragile.

Tilting his head, he asked, "Mom, can the cart really not fit one more person?"

Wen Zhi finished the last bite of her watermelon and countered, "You want him on here?"

The three little sprouts nodded in unison. Wen Zhi chuckled, then turned and patted the villager. "Hey, play some chess?"

The old villager was surprised. "How’d you know I like chess?"

Wen Zhi casually picked up a chess set by her feet. "Saw this on your cart. The edges are all worn down—you play a lot, huh?"

The villager perked up. "I love a game after work, but barely anyone in the village can beat me."

Wen Zhi: "I’m pretty good at chess. How about a couple rounds?"

The villager was tempted but looked around uncertainly. "What about the cart?"

Wen Zhi: "Turn around and get the others. I’ll play chess with you, and let that young guy from earlier drive."

"Not a half-bad idea." Just as the villager was about to turn back, the accompanying production assistant frantically signaled that it wasn’t allowed. The villager huffed, "Stop interrupting!"

The staff's faces darkened, while the live stream viewers burst into laughter.

"Hahahaha, is life easy for farmer uncles? Don’t kill his fun, production team!"

"Hahahahaha, the crew is fuming. How’d this uncle get bought off with just one chess game?"

"Hahahaha, as much as I want to laugh, does Wen Zhi even know chess? If she’s bluffing and the uncle gets mad, he might dump her and the three kids right off."

"Right, right! Chess is brain-burning. I’ve never beaten my grandpa at it."

The ox cart turned back along the original path. Lin Jiyao, Liu Yiru, and Wen Bingchun were all confused, but Little Dumpling didn’t care—he grunted as he clambered up, muttering proudly, "I wasn’t crying. I’m tough as nails."

Wen Zhi chuckled and gave him a hand up.

The old villager jumped off the cart, thrust his hat and ox whip at Lin Jiyao, and pushed him toward the front while urging Wen Zhi, "Set it up quick! I’ve still got work to do later."

Lin Jiyao was stunned. "Me? I’m driving the cart?"

The villager was impatient. "What’s a big guy like you scared of? Easier than driving a car—just don’t steer into the fields."

The ever-cool Lin Jiyao got roped into it. Wen Bingchun offered to help, but he coldly declined.

Flustered, she retreated to the back to watch the chess game, though she was clueless about it. Clueless and now reduced to a human umbrella holder, she shaded Wen Zhi the whole way.

She was this close to flipping the board!

The cart lurched drunkenly.

"Checkmate!" A crowd gathered around Wen Zhi at the back of the cart.

The villager, unhappy about losing, slapped Lin Jiyao’s back. "Hey, kid, keep the cart straight! Your swerving messed up my hand!"

Lin Jiyao’s back jolted from the slap, almost cracking his icy composure.

"Hahahaha, a sight for the ages—my Ji-ge driving an ox cart!"

"I can’t even remember my Ji-baby’s glamorous stage presence anymore. The ox cart’s his new calling."

"Hahahaha, this was all Wen Zhi’s evil genius. Lin Jiyao probably wants to jump off and walk instead."

A minute later, hashtags like #LinJiyaoDrivesOxCart, #LinJiyaoAlmostFallsIntoDitchOnBaby2, and #LinJiyaosLatestCowboyLook surged onto trending lists.

People who clicked expecting to see Lin Jiyao were inexplicably drawn to Wen Zhi first. Aside from her otherworldly gorgeous looks, she was radiating chill vibes.

Playing chess, with Lin Jiyao driving, Wen Bingchun holding her umbrella, Liang Sensen fanning her, and the other three kids cheering in admiration—she was living her best empress life.

"Came for Ji-baby, but now I’m seriously jealous of this civilian Wen Zhi."

"Pity she’s taken already."

"Hahahaha, right now, I want to be her."

Under the adoring gazes of the four Little Dumplings, Wen Zhi wiped the floor with the old villager and even won back all the snacks they’d traded earlier.

As they got off the cart, the villager gave her the stink-eye and grumbled, "Where’d you learn to play like that?"

Wen Zhi: "Self-taught."

The old villager: Ugh, I’m so mad I could spit blood!

"Hahaha, have you no shame? I’ve noticed Wen Zhi is especially shameless!"

"Hahaha, she’s an expert at getting under people’s skin!"

"Hahaha, suddenly I kinda like this deadbeat mom."

"Same! Me too!"

Lin Xiaoxiao leaned close to Mu Mu and whispered, "Mu Mu, your mom is so amazing!"

A smile broke through Mu Mu’s tense face, as if he himself had been praised.

The old villager was so angry he left without a word.

Before the group appeared a vast barren concrete lot, and in front of it stood a small, white-painted single-story house.

Wen Zhi turned around and only then realized this house was surrounded by expanses of wheat fields.

The door creaked open—Director Fang walked out with a few villagers. Seeing all four groups of guests arriving together, he said hesitantly, "The original plan was to choose rooms based on arrival order, but since you all came at the same time..."

Liu Yiru spoke up, "Originally, Wen Zhi could’ve arrived first, but she went back to pick us up. I suggest letting her choose first—any objections?"

Lin Jiyao shook his head. "No objections."

Everyone looked at Wen Bingchun, and the camera zoomed in for a close-up.

Even if she was unwilling deep down, she had to maintain a smile on the surface. "It’s only fair. If it weren’t for Xiao Zhi, we’d still be walking on the road right now."

Seeing no objections, Director Fang pointed to the row of houses behind him. "These are the village committee’s buildings. The production team has prepared four accommodations: one with a quilted mattress bed, one with a regular wooden bed, and one with no bed at all."

The chubby boy panicked. "How do you sleep without a bed?"

Director Fang grinned. "You’ll have to bed down on the floor."

Liu Yiru asked, "What about the fourth one?"

Director Fang pointed upward. "See the attic up there?"

The four groups of guests looked where he was pointing.

"The attic was specially prepared by the production team—wooden flooring, ceiling fan, and a premium mattress. It’s practically the rural VIP suite. Plus, the attic room has a small balcony where you can see the wheat fields and stars at night."

These conditions might not compare to city standards, but among the limited options, it was undeniably the most luxurious.

Director Fang turned to Wen Zhi. "You choose first."

The other three kids stared at her eagerly, afraid she’d pick the room with the balcony view.

Wen Bingchun glanced sideways at Wen Zhi: At a time like this, anyone with a bit of sense wouldn’t pick the best option—otherwise, they’d definitely get dragged online.

The next second, Wen Zhi unhesitatingly chose the best room.

Wen Bingchun: "..." Her cousin always breaks the mold.

"Gross, couldn’t Wen Zhi be a little more considerate? My girl Bingchun at least knows to teach her little brother about Kong Rong yielding the bigger pear—she just takes everything for herself!"

"Oh please, commenter above. What era are you living in, still pushing that Kong Rong crap? Are you that conditioned? Kong Rong wasn’t some paragon—why should everyone have to yield things?"

"Exactly, just go for what you want. It's better than those who pretend to be modest when they clearly want it too."

"Hahaha, that's our girl Sister Zhi. Hesitating even a second would be disrespectful to the 'luxury room'."

After Wen Zhi made her choice, Director Fang said, "For the remaining three rooms, let's draw lots. The longest stick gets the cotton-padded bed, and the shortest one sleeps on the floor."

The three parents played rock-paper-scissors, and Liu Yiru won, drawing the wooden room in the middle. That left the cotton-padded room and the one without a bed.

Wen Bingchun and Lin Jiyao faced off. Wen Bingchun smiled soft as willow down, her eyes crinkling into crescents. "Ji Yao, you’ve always looked out for me on set before. Why don’t you take the better room? My brother and I can sleep on the floor." Her tone carried a suggestive undertone.

Wen Zhi raised an eyebrow, watching the two with keen interest.

Since the show started, Wen Bingchun had been subtly leaning toward Lin Jiyao. Was she trying to piggyback on his fame or create buzz?

Lin Jiyao’s brow furrowed slightly. "Let’s just draw lots. We’re not that close."

Wen Bingchun felt awkward, then wavered between the two sticks under everyone’s gaze.

The chubby boy tugged at her sleeve nervously. "Sis, I *have* to sleep on a bed."

Her earlier offer had been just paying lip service to politeness—Wen Bingchun didn’t actually want to sleep on the floor. Praying inwardly, she slowly reached for one of the sticks.

Wen Zhi, spectating, suddenly spoke up. "That one... isn’t good."

Remembering her disastrous attempts to oppose Wen Zhi, Wen Bingchun swiftly switched sticks. She yanked it out, and everyone crowded around to look.

The shortest stick.

The chubby boy stood dumbfounded. Wen Bingchun, clutching the stick while shooting daggers at Wen Zhi, glared.

Wen Zhi blinked twice, feigning innocence. "Oh dear, didn’t you *volunteer* to sleep on the floor earlier? Now you’ve got exactly what you asked for!"

Wen Bingchun: "..."

Volunteering is one thing—losing the draw is another!