Chapter 177

Lately, Yang Pingzhou, the director of Y Province TV Station, had been caught in a strange mix of pain and joy.

The painful part? If only they had secured the guests earlier and pre-recorded a few episodes, they could have aired them right when the show was exploding in popularity across the internet. The ratings would’ve crushed the competition!

Sure, people were cursing them left and right online now, but let’s be real—when the time came to argue on the internet, those same people would binge every single episode just to win their fights. Otherwise, how could they argue if they didn’t know what happened?

But now? They hadn’t recorded a single episode in advance. All they could do was watch helplessly as the show’s popularity skyrocketed like a rocket. Even a short guest recruitment promo had racked up over a hundred million views online—and they hadn’t gotten a single benefit from it.

Just imagine: if those hundred million views had been on the actual episodes, they wouldn’t even need to work for the rest of the year. They could just kick back and wait to collect bonuses and awards at year’s end!

Forget it. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt.

The joyful part? When he reported the show’s core concept to his higher-ups, following Wei Sheng’s original pitch, not only did he avoid the scolding netizens predicted—accusing the show of “maliciously encouraging couples to divorce”—he was actually praised by the leadership for creating a program that “helps ease current tensions in family dynamics and gender relations.”

With the higher-ups backing him, what was there to be afraid of? Let the netizens rage all they want. The more they cursed, the better. Just don’t stop! Keep the hype going until the first episode airs!

This was real, living, breathing popularity! Other shows had to pay marketing accounts to stir up controversy. But them? They just sat at home and the hate posts rolled in from the sky. Heh. At that moment, Yang Pingzhou finally felt a genuine sense of admiration for Wei Sheng.

Seriously, the guy didn’t even have a girlfriend. How could he understand women so well?

Yang Pingzhou had been married for over a decade. He used to think he had it all—rising to a high position at a young age, married to a schoolteacher, a picture-perfect family.

But then one day, he casually shared the concept of Housewives Leaving Home with his wife, joking about it over dinner. A few days later, he discovered—his wife had secretly filled out the show’s application form.

Yang Pingzhou: “!!!”

What did I do wrong? Please, enlighten me! Why would you suddenly want to join a show like that, leave me and the kid, leave our home? Isn’t our life good enough?

To be fair, the Yang family lived quite comfortably. Maybe not the absolute top tier in the area, but definitely among the elite.

They lived in a villa bought by both sets of parents as a wedding gift. His wife drove a car worth over 300,000 yuan. As for him, he didn’t even need to buy a car—at his level, the station provided a car and a driver, with the driver’s salary covered too. Both of their workplaces offered excellent benefits. They barely spent any money and saved hundreds of thousands each year. With a life like that, what was there to complain about?

But when he asked her that, his wife burst into tears.

That night, the illusion of a “happy marriage” shattered under the weight of her words.

It turned out, while he thought his wife had no worries, she had been carrying the entire household on her back since the day their child was born. Because of his demanding job, she took care of the child, the elderly, all the housework, and maintained relationships with both families—all on her own.

It turned out, her job at school was also incredibly stressful. She was constantly harassed by overbearing parents and buried under bizarre, exhausting tasks from the administration. On the weeks she had morning duty, she had to be at school by 7 a.m., which meant dragging their sleepy child out of bed and rushing them to school.

It turned out, the reason he could travel for work at a moment’s notice, hold meetings until 11 p.m., and pull all-nighters at the office during holidays, was because she was silently shouldering everything at home.

That night, Yang Pingzhou couldn’t sleep.

Watching his wife sleep, her eyes still damp with tears, his heart ached. He finally understood why Wei Sheng was so determined to make this show.

As he scrolled through his phone, reading netizens arguing over whether housewives should be encouraged to leave home temporarily, or whether they had the right to pursue their so-called dreams, Yang Pingzhou felt like he’d been slapped in the face—hard.

Why is it that once a woman gets married and has kids, she’s expected to work tirelessly for the family, 24/7, without complaint? Why don’t we expect the same from men?

And why shouldn’t housewives be allowed to chase their dreams? They’re human beings, not slaves bought with a bride price!

Oh, so a man pays a few tens of thousands for a wedding, and that entitles him to a lifelong, unpaid maid? Doesn’t even give her an allowance, but expects her to raise the kids, support his career, and be “independent” by earning her own money? And she’s not even allowed to have hobbies? Even landlords in the old days weren’t this shameless!

After a sleepless night, the next morning, Yang Pingzhou personally followed up on the show. He asked Director Xu Cong if the guest list had been finalized and how soon they could start filming the first few episodes.

With the station’s top executive personally overseeing the project, how could the team not pick up the pace?

Just when the online uproar seemed to be dying down and everyone thought the controversy had passed, Y Province TV Station made another official announcement: Housewives Leaving Home would premiere this Friday at 10:05 p.m.!

Why not air it during prime time after 8 p.m.?

Please! Do you think real housewives are free to watch TV at 8 p.m.?

This time, Director Yang humbly consulted the most qualified housewife he knew—his own beloved wife. He learned that for many stay-at-home moms, especially those with school-aged children, 8 p.m. was the busiest time of day. The kids had just finished dinner, and it was time to wash dishes, clean up, supervise homework, cut fruit, and check assignments.

After that, there was bath time, bedtime stories, and getting the kids ready for bed.

Once the kids were asleep, there was still laundry to do, floors to mop, backpacks to check, and breakfast to prep for the next day. By the time all that was done and she could take a quick shower and collapse on the couch, it was nearly 10 p.m.

So why do so many women stay up late after getting married and having kids?

It’s not because they don’t know it’s bad for their skin. It’s because late at night, when the house is finally quiet, is the only time they get to enjoy a little piece of life that’s just for themselves.

After hearing his wife’s explanation, Director Yang made two decisions:

First, move the show’s airtime from the post-8 p.m. prime slot to after 10 p.m.

Second, his wife had been sacrificing for the family all these years. It was time someone else stepped up.

“Honey, how about this? From now on, I’ll cut my social dinners in half. On the nights I don’t have to go out, I’ll pick up our daughter from school, cook dinner, and help with homework. That way, after work, you can do a face mask or hit the gym—whatever you feel like doing.”

Mrs. Yang looked at her husband like he’d been possessed by something strange.

Turns out, whether a show succeeds or not really depends on listening to your audience.

Airing it at 10 p.m. turned out to be the perfect time slot for stay-at-home moms.

At 10:05 p.m. on Friday night, accompanied by the gentle sound of bamboo flutes, Housewives Leaving Home—this much-debated show—finally premiered.

Wei Sheng’s haters had even wiped down their keyboards, ready to pounce the moment the show aired. They were all set to mock him for trying to get famous by hanging around with housewives.

But when the show started, everyone was stunned.

What the heck? Why didn’t the celebrity guests and the ordinary women ever meet on screen?

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Wei Sheng had explained to the station execs. “We’re inviting these stay-at-home moms to enjoy a few days of peace and freedom. The whole idea is to let them escape social obligations. They don’t know the celebrities, and forcing them to live together would just be awkward.”

Everyone agreed he had a point. If they were the ones finally getting a few days off, they wouldn’t want to spend it socializing either.

So, the final format of the show was this: three ordinary women, selected based on the dreams and goals they wrote on their application forms, would each be paired with an “invisible friend.”

This “invisible friend” would, over the next few days, send a daily surprise gift box through the production team, helping the women embark on their personal “journey of dreams.”

To ensure the best effect for the show, Wei Sheng not only stayed off-camera, he didn’t even appear as a guest. For the first episode, the production team invited three “Dream Ambassadors,” all of whom were married women from the entertainment industry with children.

Each of them had experienced unhappy marriages and could genuinely empathize with the lives of stay-at-home moms.

To the audience’s surprise, the show didn’t do what the online critics had accused it of—spreading negativity about marriage or encouraging women to get divorced in the name of “self-discovery.”

Instead, the episode opened with scenes from the “wrecked daily lives” of the three women, each in a different setting.

The first guest, using the alias Momo, was 27 years old. She had once been a swimmer on a provincial team and later worked as a swimming coach at a sports school. But she hadn’t been in the water for three years.

After getting married, her mother-in-law claimed that frequent swimming would make a woman’s body too cold and affect her ability to conceive. So, in order to prepare for pregnancy, Momo had no choice but to quit her job and stay home, following her mother-in-law’s advice.

Eventually, she had a baby. But her mother-in-law turned out to be the type who only talks and never lifts a finger. Before the child was born, she’d constantly say, “Just give birth, I’ll help you raise the baby.” But once Momo’s daughter arrived, the mother-in-law was suddenly plagued by backaches and headaches—always with some excuse not to help.

As for her husband… Momo honestly wished he would never come home. As long as he wired her child support each month, that would be enough. Because whenever he did come back, she not only had to care for the baby, but also cook and do his laundry. Sometimes, the “lord of the house” would even invite friends over to drink and feast. Afterward, the place would be a mess, and she’d be the one stuck cleaning it all up.

Now, though, the sweet-talking but cold-hearted mother-in-law, the irresponsible husband, the daughter who thought she was too controlling, and the parents who had emotionally manipulated her all her life—everyone who had been suffocating her—seemed to have vanished overnight.

Yuan Stream Township was surrounded by mountains, with crystal-clear spring water flowing down from the peaks. All around were sparkling pools and streams. On her first afternoon there, Momo received a gift from her “invisible friend”: a beautiful swimsuit, a cozy bathrobe to keep her warm, a floating tea set, and a large bag full of snacks that girls loved.

Now, basking in the warm sunlight and breathing in the fresh mountain air tinged with the scent of flowers, Momo looked like a mermaid who had accidentally wandered into the human world. She lay in the spring water, her whole body relaxed. When she got tired of swimming, she’d sprawl out on a rock, sip tea, nibble on snacks, and enjoy life like a lazy, contented cat.

This scene absolutely stunned the stay-at-home moms watching from their living rooms.

(End of chapter)