Chapter 170

“Dayu, look at you! You even bought a mini truck?”

There was big news in Sanchaling Village today. Jiang Dayu, one of the village’s registered low-income households, had quietly driven home a brand-new Wuling Rongguang mini truck!

The moment the truck rolled into the village, it caused a stir.

It wasn’t like no one in the village had ever bought a car before. A few families even owned sedans. But this was Jiang Dayu we were talking about! Everyone knew he and his wife were scraping by to put two kids through school. Their house used to be so poor even the rats starved. Since when did he have money to buy a vehicle?

“Can’t you guess? He must be making a fortune from livestreaming!”

“Right, right! How could I forget? Last night my wife was in his livestream room trying to grab a box of sanitary pads. I heard he sold tens of thousands of orders in one night. He must be raking it in!”

“Sigh! Fortune favors the bold and starves the timid. My wife was just smashing pots and pans at home, yelling at me for being gutless. Said I’m not as ambitious as Dayu. If we had signed up for that e-commerce incubator back then, maybe we’d be rich too!”

“Keep dreaming! I signed up for that training too. Livestreaming isn’t as easy as it looks. Out of the hundred-plus people who went through several batches, only a handful like Dayu got signed by Boss Wei’s company and made it big.”

“Still, it was an opportunity. I heard they’re still recruiting for the next round. Why don’t we give it a shot? Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky too?”

That last comment stirred a wave of excitement among the villagers.

Jiang Dayu and his wife had never expected that what started as a simple attempt to improve their family’s life and save more for their kids’ tuition would turn into something so big. After signing with Wei Sheng’s livestream company, Jiang Dayu suddenly found himself with not one, but two income streams.

The first was, of course, the main account for Sanchaling’s livestream sales. Since the main account gained traction quickly and built a solid fanbase, Jiang Dayu only needed to stream four hours a day to earn at least seventy to eighty thousand yuan a month.

The second job didn’t earn as much—yet. After the main account took off, the company encouraged its streamers to create personal lifestyle accounts to counter the flood of copycat competitors. These accounts focused on short videos of daily life and could also be used for livestream sales once they gained enough followers.

Jiang Dayu’s lifestyle account was mainly run by his wife, featuring snippets of family life with their kids. Their harmonious household and well-behaved, hardworking children made the account grow quickly. In less than six months, it had over 300,000 followers and was bringing in tens of thousands of yuan a month.

Together, the couple’s monthly income now equaled what they used to make in two or three years.

But with two “soon-to-be college students” to support, and Jiang Dayu determined to give his daughter a better life so she wouldn’t fall prey to some shady guy just because she was short on cash, they didn’t hesitate to deposit all their earnings into the bank.

Buying the Wuling mini truck wasn’t about showing off wealth. It was another way to help the family earn more.

With more villagers getting into e-commerce, the volume of daily shipments had increased. Previously, everyone pooled their packages and waited for the courier service to come pick them up.

But after doing some research, Jiang Dayu realized the courier business could be quite profitable. With so many villagers selling online, the number of orders would only grow. Even if he earned just one yuan per package, a thousand packages a day would mean a thousand yuan!

The couple were quick to act. Jiang Dayu went to the county seat, asked around, and learned how to apply to open a courier service point. When he heard a vehicle was required, he didn’t hesitate to buy the Wuling mini truck.

Now, his wife handled short video filming at home while also managing their courier service point. Their farmland had long been leased out. Who would’ve imagined that Jiang Dayu and his wife could become their own bosses?

Unlike the harmonious partnership of Jiang Dayu and his wife, another villager, Jiang Xiaozhu, had a rougher time.

Female fans’ intuition was scarily accurate—Jiang Xiaozhu’s “wife” really was the type who wanted a child but not the father. Though to be fair, calling her a “scumbag” wasn’t quite right. She just didn’t believe in marriage and only wanted a child. It was consensual, so how could that be considered scummy?

But Jiang Xiaozhu was completely devoted to her. Even though she refused to get legally married, he still bought a plot of land at the foot of the mountain and built a three-story house, just like they had agreed. Whenever he got the chance, he’d invite her and the child down for a few days of family time.

That led to their current bizarre arrangement: Jiang Xiaozhu was like a kept man, hidden away and only allowed brief, secret reunions with his “wife.” Strangely enough, it was kind of thrilling. Ahem.

Despite lacking a marriage certificate, their relationship was oddly sweeter than many legal marriages. Because they didn’t see each other often, every reunion was passionate and affectionate. Their daughter was being raised by the mother as the family’s heir, and now that Jiang Xiaozhu was earning money, he didn’t blink when buying toys, clothes, or fancy dolls for his little girl.

Even though the daughter was being raised on the mother’s side, kids are simple—whoever buys them gifts wins their heart. Over time, Jiang Xiaozhu carved out a place in his daughter’s world too. Ahem.

Rumor had it his “wife” was pregnant again. Jiang Xiaozhu was over the moon, hoping for another daughter. In Langshan, female-headed households took pride in having daughters. The more daughters, the more status the biological father had. After all, the future head of the household would be his own flesh and blood. It was just like how ancient palace concubines all wanted to bear more princes.

Jiang Xiaozhu dreamed of rising in status through his daughters. Even without a marriage certificate, if he could live as her de facto husband for life thanks to their children, that was good enough for him.

He’d come to realize that whether a couple was happy had nothing to do with a piece of paper. How many officially married couples in Langshan weren’t constantly fighting? They’d argue so loudly the whole village would come watch. What good was legal status then?

The more he thought about it, the more he felt his and Xiuxiu’s arrangement was ideal. They each focused on their own lives and reunited occasionally with their child. As the saying goes, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Ahem. Jiang Xiaozhu was living his best life and didn’t care about that marriage certificate anymore.

What was a piece of paper compared to a loving wife?

Honestly, he was a bit scared now. If Xiuxiu had agreed to marry him back then, they’d probably be like every other young couple in the village—bickering every few days. What would be the point?

Maybe inspired by their example, a few other young men in Sanchaling had also become “walking marriage husbands.” No certificate, no wedding banquet. If they had a daughter, she stayed with the mother. If it was a son, he went to the father. If the father couldn’t raise the boy, he could be fostered with the mother, with the dad providing monthly support. If the men behaved well, they could even continue dating their “wives.” Aside from not living together, it was just like a normal marriage—sometimes even better.

Village chief Jiang Yongzhi had been worried. He thought the younger generation was too soft. Just because they didn’t want to argue with their wives, they skipped marriage altogether? What kind of example was that?

But just a few days after saying that, his youngest son and daughter-in-law had a massive fight. They trashed their brand-new home, and the daughter-in-law packed her bags and stormed back to her parents’ house, demanding a divorce.

Jiang Yongzhi: “…”

At this point, not getting married might actually be better.

Originally, the drama at the village chief’s house would’ve been the biggest news in Sanchaling. But something even bigger had stolen the spotlight. Just as neighbors peeked over to see the commotion, most of the villagers had already run off to help at Wei Sheng’s new e-commerce industry center.

Sanchaling’s short video network had developed remarkably well, and Wei Sheng had long wanted to build a model rural e-commerce incubation hub. The previous training center, which had been set up by renting and renovating village homes, was far too small. So Wei Sheng approached the local government, secured a new plot of land, and together they established the area’s first official e-commerce industry center.

The newly restructured industrial hub, though covering just over ten mu¹ of land, was compact yet fully equipped. In addition to essential services like an e-commerce training center, warehousing and logistics, platform support, and agency operations, it also featured a cultural and creative center and an online store photography base tailored to Langshan’s local characteristics.

The cultural and creative center was established to discover and nurture Langshan’s intangible cultural heritage. By leveraging e-commerce platforms, it aimed to help locals monetize their traditional crafts, solving both employment and livelihood issues for rural cultural workers.

The online store photography base was created because many of Langshan’s e-commerce practitioners were trained on the fly and lacked any real photography skills. They could manage to shoot some casual videos on their phones, but when it came to proper product photos and promotional videos, it was a struggle. In an era where visual appeal is everything, poor product images could instantly drag a brand from premium to bargain-bin clearance.

To avoid wasting the hard work locals put into producing authentic, high-quality goods, Wei Sheng had no choice but to assemble a professional photography team. With skilled photographers handling the shoots and retouching, and professional designers working on the product pages, the online shops immediately leveled up in quality and appeal.

Now, the people of Sanchaling were truly reaping the benefits of e-commerce development.

At first, some were secretly jealous of those who made it big through livestreaming. But over time, they realized that as the village’s e-commerce industry grew, so did their own quality of life.

The crops they grew and livestock they raised no longer needed to be hauled down the mountain to the market. They could sell them right in the village for a good price. There was also steady work to be found locally—helping process agricultural products, packing and shipping orders, loading goods onto trucks. Those who were diligent could earn three to four thousand yuan a month without ever leaving the village, which was far better than working away from home.

Word had it that once Wei Sheng’s e-commerce industrial center was fully built, they would also launch rural specialty farming and breeding programs, and even hire villagers to work in the factory. Just the thought of being able to find stable work right in their hometown had everyone fired up. People were so eager, they were practically volunteering to help Wei Sheng for free, just hoping the center would open sooner.

While the village bustled with excitement, Wei Sheng, the boss behind it all, only had time to attend the groundbreaking ceremony. He had no choice—the film version of New Song of Sending Off the Lover was about to kick off its promotional campaign.

Wei Sheng had already seen the final cut. Honestly, even with his bias as the lead actor, he had to admit that the film was neither outstanding nor terrible. It was a passable mainstream propaganda film. Unless a miracle happened—like the government launching a major campaign to support domestic propaganda films, or all the other movies released at the same time turning out to be flops—this one didn’t have much hope of making waves.

It wasn’t that the script was bad. Chen Shu had brought in a veteran screenwriter with over twenty years of experience in main-theme productions specifically to win awards, so the script was solid.

But filmmaking is a mysterious business.

Sometimes, a movie has a massive budget, a star-studded cast, and a dream team of director, cinematographer, and screenwriter—all big names in the industry. And yet, when it hits theaters, audiences still call it garbage, and it bombs both at the box office and in reviews. It happens more often than you’d think.

After watching the final cut, Wei Sheng had a sinking feeling that this film might flop. But the director and production team were determined to go all out with a nationwide promotional tour to build hype. What could Wei Sheng do?

He couldn’t exactly tell Chen Shu, “I think this movie’s going to tank. Maybe we should cut our losses and pull the plug?”

Chen Shu would probably tear him apart!

More importantly, the province where Sanchaling was located—the film’s shooting location—was heavily invested in the movie’s promotion. Local media had been covering the production since day one, and with the premiere approaching, the provincial government was reportedly planning to organize group screenings for government offices to boost Langshan’s tourism and cultural industries. With that level of support, Wei Sheng, as the male lead, had no excuse not to do his part.

So, starting in December, aside from continuing to film the variety shows Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation and The Wage Earners, the rest of Wei Sheng’s time was spent traveling across the country promoting the film version of New Song of Sending Off the Lover.

Ironically, this promotional tour ended up earning him some unexpected resentment.

As everyone knows, at any press event involving the entertainment industry, journalists tend to swarm the most buzzworthy figure in the room.

Unfortunately for Wei Sheng, even though he was a newcomer and not as high-profile as the female lead Chen Qingyao, he had a knack for attracting drama. He was a walking headline generator, with enough controversy surrounding him to fill a sieve. The moment reporters spotted him, it was like piranhas smelling blood—they couldn’t shove their microphones in his face fast enough.

Standing beside him, the impeccably made-up Chen Qingyao could barely keep her smile from twitching.

She knew she shouldn’t be petty toward a junior, but come on—she was supposed to be the biggest star in this film, with several acclaimed roles under her belt. She deserved at least a little respect from Wei Sheng.

And what did Wei Sheng have? Aside from one slapstick New Year’s comedy that did decently at the box office, he was just a variety show regular! No matter how popular he was, in the film world, comedians like him were at the very bottom of the pecking order.

These reporters were shameless. Just for the sake of clicks and clout, they ignored her and flocked to Wei Sheng like dung beetles to a fresh pile.

No matter how professional she was, it was hard for Chen Qingyao not to feel frustrated at being overshadowed by a rookie.

While Chen Qingyao envied Wei Sheng’s natural popularity, Wei Sheng, in turn, envied her ability to show up without actually doing much.

This was supposed to be a press conference to promote the film. Why was he the one being grilled while Sister Chen got off scot-free? That wasn’t fair!

The media events had all been pre-arranged by the production team, with red envelopes discreetly distributed. Naturally, the official press releases after the screenings were all glowing. But when several outlets published additional interviews focusing solely on Wei Sheng—without even mentioning the leading lady—it was as if Chen Qingyao had been reduced to a background extra. She was so furious she nearly smashed her phone.

Rationally, she knew that media attention would always favor trending stars like Wei Sheng over serious actors like herself.

But emotionally? She was livid.

So, by the second event, Chen Qingyao claimed she was unwell and needed to rest at home, completely bowing out of the nationwide promotional tour.

That was even more explosive than the film itself!

The paparazzi were thrilled. Chen Qingyao skipping out? Perfect. With her gone, they had free rein to make up whatever they wanted.

Rumors flew across the internet: the leads of New Song of Sending Off the Lover were feuding, the film’s main couple had already broken up before the movie even premiered. The gossip spread like wildfire.

Well, at least Chen Shu saved a ton on promotional expenses.

Now, without lifting a finger, the whole country was eagerly waiting for the film’s release. As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day—and neither are grudges. With the leads at odds like this, maybe the drama had started during filming.

Now that Chen Qingyao had stormed off and refused to join the tour, and the paparazzi couldn’t get a word out of Wei Sheng, what could they do? Wait for the movie to hit theaters, of course.

And so, a perfectly decent mainstream propaganda film became the center of nationwide gossip, the talk of every dinner table. Director Chen Shu was so angry he nearly passed out. He couldn’t get through to Chen Qingyao or her agent, and he was this close to smashing his phone in frustration.

New Song of Sending Off the Lover hit theaters amid a whirlwind of tabloid drama.

(End of this chapter)

Translator’s Notes