Chapter 33: A Frightening Price

The people here are even more outrageous than those at West Mountain River. Those folks just refused to give face, but here, they dare to shout sky-high prices even in front of live cameras, without any fear of the price control bureau coming after them.

If it were me, I’d just give everything to Mumu. Whatever Mumu wants, I’d give it all.

I wouldn’t give it for free, though. I’d want Mumu to take a photo with me before I hand over the candles.

Le Xi glanced sideways at Duan Muchen, then said to the villagers, “Fifty. You can keep it for yourself.” She rose to leave, Duan Muchen followed, and the villager called out behind them, “Forty-five. Forty!”

This person knows how to do business.

Disgusting. How can someone be like this?

After leaving the director’s van, Cui Meiying, Deng Jiachao, Wang Sisi, Wang Zhuorui, Gu Xiaomo, and Gu Junhao split into groups and headed to the villagers’ homes. While they didn’t visit the same house, their jaws dropped just as wide.

The villagers’ homes, though similar to what the show provided—tile-roofed houses—were much better inside. At least they didn’t smell, the floors had no moss, and there were no terrifying stairs. But the prices were enough to scare anyone.

It wasn’t just that the price itself was shocking, but that these shabby houses didn’t deserve such a cost. A room with nothing but a bed, a cabinet, and a table—no modern appliances, not even wifi, and a pit toilet—was being rented for fifteen hundred a night.

Wang Sisi and Wang Zhuorui turned and left; they only had fifteen hundred altogether.

“Hospitality? Nonsense, this is outrageous,” Wang Zhuorui shouted, his voice breaking.

Wang Sisi muttered, “Let’s just camp outside. It’s only sleep, anyway. No way I’m letting them make this dirty money.”

“Exactly, it’s too—” Wang Zhuorui interrupted, “What, sleep outside? There’ll be snakes.”

He crossed his arms. “No way.”

Cui Meiying and Deng Jiachao stayed behind. Cui Meiying didn’t have fifteen hundred, but she had a killer waist; she twisted it and said, “Can’t it be cheaper? Is there a cheaper option?”

The male villager began to drool, just like Deng Jiachao, and was about to say, “Sure,” when his wife slapped him hard.

The woman grabbed a broom and unleashed a torrent of dialect, sweeping dust furiously at Cui Meiying. Cui Meiying couldn’t understand a word, but her waist and face turned ashen, and a swipe across her waist left her hand black.

Poor Meiying, she’s covered in a layer of dust everywhere.

How strange—the floor looked clean, but one sweep brought up so much dust.

Is Meiying really pitiful? I think she’s shameless, flirting in front of someone’s wife. If I were that woman, I wouldn’t just sweep dust—I’d slap her face and see if she dares again.

Gu Xiaomo and Gu Junhao decided to stay, thinking since they had thirty-five hundred, they’d spend one night and figure it out tomorrow.

Gu Xiaomo really is generous—renting such a place.

That’s not what generous means. It’s just plain foolish.

Back at the house, Le Xi pulled out five power banks, each with a twenty-thousand capacity. She feared running out of battery, so she charged them all and stored them in her suitcase.

So many power banks—a real sense of security.

Le Xi is always prepared.

Le Xi picked one up and asked Duan Muchen, “Do you have a power bank? If not, take one.”

He shook his head, so she handed it to him.

“There’s no way to heat water, but I can shower with cold water. How about you?”

“I can too,” he replied.

No, Mumu! This old house looks so cold and damp—bathing in cold water will make you ill.

Mumu doesn’t need to bathe to stay fragrant—don’t risk your health.

It’s summer; not bathing would be uncomfortable. Just wash quickly.

Duan Muchen took the power bank to his room and opened his suitcase.

So many snacks! Does Mumu love snacks? I’ve been his fan for two years and never knew. I love snacks too—what a coincidence.

Boys who love snacks are the cutest.

Mumu, take care of your health. It’s fine to snack occasionally, but remember to eat proper meals.

He looked at his snacks for a moment, then closed the suitcase, stood it upright, and wheeled it out.

“Are you in your room? Can I come in?”

Le Xi was no longer in the main hall, so Duan Muchen called out from there.

“Come in,” she replied, rummaging through her bag for something to eat.

He entered, suitcase in tow, opened it on the floor. Le Xi was taken aback by the mountain of snacks.

“Pick whatever you like.”

Oh, if only those words were meant for me.

Same here—I want Mumu’s snacks, too.

Mumu’s snacks look delicious.

Le Xi quickly zipped up her own bag. Hers held only bread, sausage, and instant noodles, which she was sick of.

She’d left in such a rush, there was no time to stock up at the supermarket.

“I’m really picking, then.”

Duan Muchen nodded.

Le Xi crouched down, her eyes sparkling. She realized she’d never really eaten snacks—when she was young, her family couldn’t afford them; later, her work demanded discipline; after marriage, Song Qi forbade them.

“Are these lemon slices edible straight from the pack?”

She’d always thought lemons and lemon slices were only for making drinks.

She tore open the lemon slices and popped one in her mouth, her face lighting up.

“Delicious!”

She kept exploring and found a bag labeled ‘Fish Skin.’

“Fish skin can be a snack, too?”

She continued digging like she was hunting for treasure, surprise and delight alternating.

Is Le Xi pretending to be cute to seduce the movie star?

Le Xi is adorable—so innocent.

I know actors rarely eat snacks for their figure, but didn’t Le Xi leave showbiz? Why doesn’t she eat snacks now?

Maybe she doesn’t dare. Wealthy husbands like wives with good figures. If she snacks, her husband might sneak snacks too—the other kind, you know what I mean.

So Le Xi suffered for her figure, didn’t eat snacks, and her ex-husband snacked anyway.

Girls should always put themselves first—otherwise, they’ll lose out.

Le Xi glanced at the armful of snacks and suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Am I taking too many?”

Duan Muchen shook his head, then wheeled his suitcase out.

Le Xi found only one basin in the backyard, so she washed it clean, filled it to the brim with water, and carried it to Duan Muchen’s room.

“You wash first. When you’re done, call me and I’ll wash.”

She’d taken so many snacks from him—she should let him wash first, even fetch water for him.

Duan Muchen finished quickly—the water was icy cold.

When Le Xi started washing, Huo Hongming returned and knocked relentlessly on her door.

“Le Xi, the money’s been split. I’m not staying here.”