Chapter 36: Young Master of the Zhou Family

Chapter 36: Second Young Master Zhou

Finally arriving at the communal house, the agents and assistants of each guest were left in a town dozens of kilometers away. Now, the five guests had to fend for themselves.

The journey had been smooth, with paved roads and villagers offering help, but upon reaching the communal house, the production team demanded the guests carry their own belongings. Unfortunately, there was a rather steep flight of stairs on the way to the plaza in front of the house. A spoiled rich heir like Zhou Yun had never carried his own luggage before, so he immediately demanded the staff help him—only to be turned down flat. He then turned to the other guests.

Unfortunately, Lu Zhaoyang had already walked ahead alone. Li Wenzhang was nearby, but as a veteran in his forties, he was already struggling with his own luggage. Besides, Zhou Yun had an inexplicable dislike for him, so his eyes landed on Chu Yan, who was walking behind with Xu Meng.

"Carry this up for me."

Chu Yan: "..."

Eyes straight ahead—didn’t see, didn’t hear.

"Hey! Are you deaf? I told you to carry this up for me!"

Chu Yan swiftly grabbed Xu Meng’s suitcase and, with one in each hand, briskly walked past Zhou Yun.

"Chu Yan!" Zhou Yun glared furiously. "How dare you ignore me!"

Chu Yan: Can’t hear, can’t hear.

He turned to Xu Meng with a blank expression. "Sister Meng, did you hear something just now?"

Xu Meng played along, equally clueless. "No, I didn’t."

"Oh."

The two of them cheerfully ignored Second Young Master Zhou, who stomped his feet in rage.

"Ugh, that obsessive simp is so annoying."

The live-stream audience was in stitches.

"What’s going on? Chu Yan just straight-up lied with those innocent eyes—adorable!"

"LMAO, this disgraced heir is unexpectedly cluelessly cute."

"Poor Second Young Master, Chu Yan is totally messing with him on purpose."

Of course, Chu Yan was doing it on purpose. If he couldn’t win, he could at least avoid the trouble. Still, it had to be said—Second Young Master Zhou really needed a good thrashing. The production team was too lenient. Carrying luggage was nothing; they should’ve made him shovel manure—either work him to death or stink him out.

Fuming from being ignored, Zhou Yun eventually gritted his teeth and lugged his heavy suitcase up the stairs. The midday heat didn’t help, and by the time he reached the plaza, he was limp as a noodle. Meanwhile, the others had already rested. The most infuriating part? The first segment after arrival was—the flamboyant reveal of a mystery guest.

As a pair of polished dress shoes appeared on the live-stream screen, the camera slowly panned up—revealing long, straight legs, a perfectly tailored white high-end suit, and finally, a strikingly handsome face. The viewer count shot up.

The frame froze on a breathtakingly handsome face—sharp brows, refined features, a faint smirk, and bright eyes. The live chat exploded.

"OMG! It’s actually Yu Shen! Yu Shen is really on this show?! Holy crap, the rumors were true?!"

"Yu Shen! I want to bear your children! So gorgeous…"

The fans were stunned. Fu Zeyu—the top-tier idol Fu Zeyu—was here.

Not just the fans, but even the guests on-site were shocked. Chu Yan stared wide-eyed at the newcomer. He was certain—this character wasn’t in the original novel at all.

What was happening? Why was even Fu Zeyu joining this trashy reality show? With Zhou Yun and now Fu Zeyu, was this even the same *Rebirth Challenge* anymore?

This couldn’t be right.

"Tch, look at this peacock preening."

Zhou Yun couldn’t stand Fu Zeyu’s flashy demeanor. "What, on the prowl?"

Fu Zeyu, who had been striking a cool pose, smirked at the voice and immediately zeroed in on his least favorite person.

"Oh? Are you volunteering?"

"Ugh, keep dreaming, loser. I’ve got beauties lining up around me."

"Ohoho, if it isn’t our slick operator. With so many beauties around you, does your *special someone* know?" Fu Zeyu suddenly covered his mouth in mock regret. "Oops, my bad. I forgot—Second Young Master Zhou’s manwhore reputation is common knowledge. Too bad, no matter how wild you get, *that person* just doesn’t care."

"Key point—they. Don’t. Care."

Fu Zeyu’s sarcasm was lethal, every jab drew blood, hitting every sore spot.

Zhou Yun’s face turned green.

"Fu Zeyu, what the hell do you mean?! If that trash mouth of yours is useless, sew it shut! Stop garbage spewing!"

Fu Zeyu shrugged. "Take it however you want."

"Hah, just admit you’re jealous of my charm."

"Oh, I’m *so* jealous."

Chu Yan and the others: "..."

This was… spectacular.

Audience reactions:

"Is this the trash-talking reality show? No script, unfiltered selves—I love it!"

"Wait, what tea did I just stumble upon? Who’s this ‘special someone’ of Second Young Master’s? What can’t my premium subscription hear? Spill it all!"

"Rich young masters really have it good—they can argue on national TV without a care. Amazing!"

"More! Fight more!"

As the two continued bickering, the director seized the moment to move to the next segment—the first official challenge: picking digs.

The production team provided three residences, all villagers’ homes. The guests would do a random draw to decide their accommodations.

Photos of the three houses were shown. The best was a luxurious countryside villa, comparable to a high-end mansion—clearly the wealthiest household in the village. Next was a three-floor mini-mansion. The last option? Two shabby, crumbling mud-brick shacks that looked barely habitable.

"Are you sure people actually survive here?"

Fu Zeyu voiced everyone’s thoughts.

"Where’d you even find this hovel?"

Zhou Yun was equally disgusted. They hadn’t seen anything this slum-tier the entire way here.

Chu Yan was unfazed. The home he'd shared with his grandmother in his past life was pretty much the same as this.

Amidst the doubts, the draw began. The luxury villa was labeled as No. ①, the three-story cottage as No. ②, and the ramshackle mud-brick house as No. ③. With six guests and three residences, this meant two people per group.

Xu Meng, the only female participant, was given first pick by consensus, so she drew first.

"It's No. ②."

Xu Meng visibly relieved—anything but No. ③ would do.

Next was Li Wenzhang, the eldest participant. Surprisingly, he drew No. ①. Basking in everyone's envy, Li Wenzhang looked quite pleased.

Since Fu Zeyu and Zhou Yun were at a stalemate, the production team decided to let the remaining four pick at the same time. However, the result...

Lu Zhaoyang: "No. ①."

Lu Zhaoyang kept a straight face, but the other three got nervous—this meant two out of the remaining three would draw No. ③.

Dammit. Zhou Yun glared at the two in front of him—he hated both of them, and either pairing would suck.

He hesitantly revealed his pick, and then...

"No. ③."

Fuck. "This show must be cursed."

Defeated. Zhou Yun was completely done for today. Wait—no, he needed to see which poor bastard would be stuck with him.

Then Chu Yan went pale—the unlucky one was him.

"I got No. ③."

At the same time, Fu Zeyu erupted into uproarious laughter.

"Hahaha, I'm dying—Second Zhou! Hahaha!"

"Congratulations, hahaha! Zhou Yun, you’re stuck with Fu Hongan’s little sycophant—hahaha!"

Chu Yan, collateral damage: *The engagement's off, for fuck's sake!*

And so, under Zhou Yun’s death glare, the housing situation was settled.

Chu Yan hauled his luggage toward tonight’s lodging under the crew’s guidance. The production team gave the guests two hours to settle in before regrouping at the common area.

Just as Chu Yan was about to leave, Zhou Yun called out to him, "You carry my luggage for me. Got it?"

Chu Yan: *Acted deaf and kept walking.*

"Chu Yan! Are you deaf?!"

Only then did Chu Yan turn around with a look of realization. "Oh, were you calling me?"

"Who else?!"

Everything about Chu Yan was aggravating.

"Oh? Then may I ask what Second Young Master Zhou needs from me?" Chu Yan asked politely.

"Carry my luggage!"

Zhou Yun impatiently shoved his suitcase toward Chu Yan. He’d never met someone so oblivious—usually, people fawned over him without him needing to say a word.

But to his surprise, Chu Yan dodged with dancer-like grace, letting the suitcase go flying past him and—whoosh—tumble off the cement path, landing in the muddy rice paddy below.

Chu Yan immediately raised his hands in innocence. "Not my fault. You threw it yourself."

"Chu Yan!" Zhou Yun was seeing red. "You did that on purpose!"

"Nope. Like I said, you threw it. Everyone saw it."

"You *must* have done it on purpose! Why would you dodge? How dare you dodge?!"

"Survival instinct."

The more composed Chu Yan acted, the angrier Zhou Yun became. This damn sycophant was several years younger than him, yet Chu Yan spoke to him with the tone of an adult—his dismissive, exasperated demeanor starkly contrasting Zhou Yun’s tantrum, as if an elder were dealing with a bratty child.

It was a total ego-crusher.

"Chu Yan, have you lost your mind? How dare you treat me like this?!"

Zhou Yun was stunned. This imposter, kicked out of a wealthy family—where did he get the nerve? Even if he’d spent eighteen years as the Chu family’s young master, didn’t he know what the Zhou family represented?

To his utter disbelief, Chu Yan actually nodded. "Yep, I’ve lost it. You’re just realizing now?"

"So, ah~ don’t provoke a madman."

Chu Yan pantomimed booping Zhou Yun's nose from a distance before decisively turning and walking away.

Honestly, this so-called "player who juggled six relationships" seemed more like a spoiled brat. With that childish, tsundere mentality of his, did he really have the ability to manage six side pieces at once? Chu Yan had his doubts.

Zhou Yun was momentarily stunned by his reaction. *Is he actually insane?*

Originally, a nobody like Chu Yan wouldn’t have warranted his attention. But Fu Hongan happened to be his archenemy’s nephew, so he’d naturally heard of the infamous sycophant, Chu Yan. Not long ago, he’d learned that Chu Yan had been dumped by the Fu family and later severed ties with the Chu family himself. At the time, he’d joked with friends that the little sycophant must’ve lost his mind after being rejected by Fu Hongan—why else would he very publicly disown his own family over some guy who hated him?

Well, now it seemed the damn pathetic simp really *had* gone mad.

Damn it—why did the production team pair him with a lunatic?!

Ignoring him, Chu Yan headed toward the rundown house with his suitcase. He didn’t see the young master standing there, lost in his own delusions, nor did he witness the ensuing argument with the filming crew. Eventually, Zhou Yun reluctantly sloshed into the rice paddy to retrieve his filthy, mud-caked luggage, bitching the whole time—his rare Jordans ruined.

Zhou Yun’s fans were heartbroken, brigading Chu Yan’s livestream to hurl insults. Meanwhile, casual viewers found the duo’s dynamic hilarious—the arrogant Second Young Master Zhou, for all his bluster, was completely owned by Chu Yan. It was weirdly compelling.

About twenty minutes later, Chu Yan finally arrived at his destination.

To call this house the worst in the village would be an understatement. Located at the very back, it bordered endless mountains and was far from the village entrance. The yard had a bone-dry well that hadn't been used in decades, cobwebs clung to uncleaned walls, and the floor was bare dirt...

Two rooms: one bedroom with a freshly made bed by the crew, the other a combined kitchen and living area with sparse, borrowed furniture.

The production team had really outdone themselves.

Just as Chu Yan set his suitcase down in the bedroom, an enraged roar came from the doorway.

"What kind of hellhole is this?! I’m out—this Young Master is done with this shit!"

Zhou Yun stared at the disastrous shack as if making a solemn vow. He turned to leave, ignoring the crew’s attempts to stop him.

"Second Young Master, calm down—please!"

"Calm down?! I’m leaving *now*! Whoever wants to film this trashy show can have at it!"

"Second Young Master! You forgot it was you who sought us out to sign the contract. The penalty's tenfold, remember?"

"Try a hundredfold - pocket change for me."

"But the higher-ups have made it clear you must finish filming. No quitting halfway, or else—"

"Screw your 'or else'! Nobody stops me!"

Zhou Yun was on the verge of a breakdown—his suitcase was filthy, his beloved sneakers caked in mud, and this fucking dump— Just then, a drawl dripping with mockery drifted from behind, freezing him in his tracks.

"Well, well. So it's true, the rumors online that you lose to Fu Fourth in every damn way?"

Say what you will, but Chu Yan’s sarcasm was truly infuriating.

And just like that, Zhou Yun whipped around, fists clenched.