Chapter 126

The livestreaming industry was booming—not only did it provide the villagers of Huangbai Village with a new way to earn money and support themselves, it also unexpectedly attracted aid from all corners of society.

A well-known chronic disease specialty hospital in Province A saw the livestream and, upon learning that nearly a hundred chronic disease patients still lived in the village, proactively reached out. They offered to conduct two free on-site medical consultations each year in the village. Additionally, they decided to open up their one-on-one online consultation service—originally reserved for VIP cardholders—to the villagers of Huangbai Village.

Soon after, seeing that many of the chronic disease patients had mobility issues, a medical equipment distributor donated a batch of crutches, wheelchairs, and traction devices to the village.

A local optician, moved by the sight of elderly villagers wearing reading glasses so scratched they looked frosted, offered to provide two new pairs of reading glasses for every senior in the village.

At the same time, the production team and local government were steadily advancing a “Resettlement Plan” tailor-made for Huangbai Village.

This was all thanks to a reminder from Wei Sheng’s good friend, Jiang Xiaoman. If the people of Huangbai Village were to truly settle down in Langshan, the most important thing was to ensure that everyone had something to do—and a way to make money.

As the saying goes, it used to be “where your home is, your career follows.” But in this day and age, young people might not get married, but they absolutely must make money. So now, it’s “where your career is, your home follows.”

Just like nomads who follow the water and grass, modern people will settle down wherever they can build a life.

So Dongxiang Town reached out to local pig and chicken farmers and organized a special livestock procurement fair just for the villagers of Huangbai Village.

Considering that many villagers had physical limitations due to illness, the town arranged for a team of volunteers to go door to door, recording how many piglets, chicks, ducklings, and lambs each household needed. Once the numbers were tallied, they negotiated a group purchase price with the local farmers.

They also organized a team of masons and bought a supply of red bricks and cement to help repair damaged pens and coops.

In less than a month, every household that had relocated from Huangbai Village was raising livestock.

As Jiang Xiaoman put it: “With all these little cuties chasing them around for food every day, the folks from Huangbai Village don’t even have time to feel homesick… ahem!”

In addition to supporting home-based livestock farming, Dongxiang Town also commissioned Jiang Xiaoman to help procure a batch of golden chrysanthemum and honeysuckle seedlings.

These two cash crops had already been successfully introduced in Langshan Village. Jiang Xiaoman generously offered to provide free technical support for the villagers of Huangbai Village. When harvest season came, they wouldn’t need to worry about selling their flowers either—as long as they signed an agricultural order contract with the local cooperative, the co-op would purchase everything at the agreed price.

Forced to leave their hometown in their twilight years, the people of Huangbai Village had initially carried a quiet sadness in their hearts. But they soon realized that the folks in Dongxiang Town had no intention of giving them time to dwell on it.

At dawn, before they could even gaze longingly toward their old home, before they’d even opened their doors, the piglets were already snorting at the gates from hunger, and the chicks were pecking their bamboo baskets to pieces.

Who had time to be melancholy? Get up and feed the pigs! Feed the chickens! And while you’re at it, toss a couple bundles of hay into the sheep pen!

Daytime was even busier. The vegetable plots assigned to each household needed daily watering and weeding. Living in the mountains, it made no sense to spend money buying vegetables. There were also the potatoes and corn in the hills—volunteers from town had helped plant them, but surely the villagers couldn’t expect them to handle the weeding and fertilizing too?

Besides, the grass they cut from the fields had to be saved to feed the sheep and pigs.

Having suffered a lifetime of devastation from pesticide contamination, the villagers of Huangbai Village now loathed all forms of chemical pesticides. Every relocated household, without exception, refused to use them. They’d rather work harder and share their crops with the bugs than risk ingesting those toxic chemicals again.

They had mentally prepared for lower yields, figuring it was enough if they could grow enough for their own consumption. But to their surprise, precisely because they never used chemical fertilizers or pesticides—only natural compost—they unexpectedly landed a major order.

A high-end private dining restaurant owner from Province S contacted the village, hoping to source their naturally grown, pesticide-free mountain vegetables and grains.

In other words, as long as Huangbai Village stuck to their current farming methods—no industrial fertilizers or pesticides—even if their sweet potatoes, potatoes, and vegetables had lower yields, the higher purchase price would still bring in a decent annual income.

Watching the villagers of Huangbai Village transform from their first appearance—sickly and hopeless—to the final episode—radiant and full of energy—viewers felt like they’d just devoured half a chilled watermelon on a scorching summer day: utterly, blissfully refreshed.

“This is what a real, passionate rural poverty-alleviation drama looks like! I beg those screenwriters who keep slapping a rural theme on melodramatic family feuds to take a good look. Enough with the in-law drama and petty squabbles—this is how you do realistic storytelling! Look at Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation—this is what audiences want!”

“Sure, the show’s a bit heavy on the plot armor, but honestly? Well deserved! The villagers of Huangbai Village have suffered enough—they deserve a golden cheat code! Crank it up! We love it!”

“I’ve never even liked rural-themed shows, but this one got my blood pumping. Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation is incredible. Highly recommend!”

Many viewers, especially those with parents suffering from chronic illnesses, were inspired by the show. Some even started considering renting a house and a plot of land in the countryside to give their parents a peaceful retirement.

The officials in Dongxiang Town had never imagined that what began as a simple gesture of gratitude—helping the folks from Province N settle in—would, through the show, introduce the world to their humble and kind-hearted little town of Dongxiang in Langshan.

Suddenly, many locals with abandoned houses and unused farmland began renting them out. A few thousand yuan a year might not be much, but it was practically free money—who wouldn’t be happy?

As for the people of Huangbai Village, once they heard that rental prices for abandoned homes in Dongxiang Town were rising, they flat-out refused to keep living in the locals’ homes for free. In the end, they all went to the village committee together and renegotiated rental contracts with the homeowners, extending their leases for another two years.

With their current income, paying over ten thousand yuan for two years of rent was no big deal.

Everyone was thrilled—except the fans of the show.

Word got out that the Huangbai Village arc was the final episode of Season Two. Once it aired, fans would have to wait until next spring for Season Three. The moment it ended, they were left with a hollow ache in their hearts.

That brief sadness quickly turned into collective outrage—aimed squarely at J Province TV Station.

“Useless! No wonder you’re stuck as a second-tier provincial station. You had a money-making hit and just let it go? Unbelievable!”

“Someone slap ‘incompetent’ across J Province TV Station’s public screen! How can you have such an amazing show with only a few chapters per season? And weekly updates? Weekly updates, my ass! There are so many poor towns across the country waiting for you to film them—you could update daily and never run out of material!”

“Strongly suggest J Province TV Station broaden their thinking. Why stick to the Saturday night prime-time slot? I’m telling you, even if you aired Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation at 3 a.m. on a Monday, I’d still be there watching!”

“Count me in! Honestly, you don’t even need to premiere it on TV. Why not negotiate with streaming platforms for online releases? No matter where it airs, I’ll buy a membership just to keep watching!”

“Front row here, mind blown. Let me throw in a suggestion—if nothing else works, why not just serialize it on your video channel? Start a subscription! I’ll even pay for a membership, how about that?”

The internet was in an uproar. Who would’ve thought that after the final episode of Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation Season 2 aired, the first to get dragged into the trending hate list—aside from the pesticide pollution scandal—would be J Province TV Station?

Looking at the brutal trending tag #JProvinceTVStationIncompetent, the station execs collectively fell silent.

Wait a minute! They couldn’t just lie down and take the ridicule!

Didn’t they still have a drama investment project on the table?

Maybe they should just go with what Wei Sheng suggested—forget about shooting some fantasy xianxia series. Why not make a drama version of Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation instead?

When Zhou Mingxing got the call from the station heads, he too was at a loss for words.

At that moment, he seriously suspected that Wei Sheng had brainwashed the execs in advance.

Weren’t they dead set on filming Daji Reborn before? Complaining that rural-themed shows were passé?

Now, the moment the audience starts complaining, suddenly rural themes are back in vogue? As leaders, could they be any more fickle?

“How is that being fickle? The audience is the god of our TV station. Submitting to God—isn’t that the right thing to do?” Wei Sheng grinned as he comforted his manager.

“You called it again. In the end, the station heads really did decide to invest in the rural theme.”

“Happy now? You get to play yourself. A role tailor-made for you. If you don’t win Best Actor for this, it’d be a crime.”

Zhou Mingxing had long given up on trying to “groom” Wei Sheng.

This kid was born to work within the system—he never should’ve ended up in showbiz. He stumbled into it by accident, and yet the industry’s unspoken rules never managed to corrupt him.

No, scratch that. Not only did the entertainment industry fail to change him, it feels like he’s the one who’s been changing it…

Just look at the station’s execs. Normally, when the company’s artists want to get a piece of the pie, they have to bend over backwards—flattering, schmoozing, endless dinner parties—and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll land the best roles.

But ever since Wei Sheng joined the station, it’s like the execs have been put under some kind of spell. No matter what new project the station’s investing in, before Wei Sheng even says a word, the higher-ups are already asking if there’s a role that suits him.

No wonder those haters online keep throwing shade, calling Wei Sheng the “golden child” of J Province TV Station.

Golden child? That’s putting it mildly.

He’s practically their living ancestor!

(End of chapter)