"Long time no see, Junior Sister. It really has been a long time," Lan Wuyi greeted warmly.
"The last time we met should've been last September, at the Golden Rooster Awards. Both of us were vice-chairpersons of the jury then," Ban Ke replied. "I remember we even had a disagreement over the evaluation of the film Pit of Rebirth."
She deliberately brought up the details of their last encounter to bridge the gap for the sake of the show's atmosphere.
But the more clearly Ban Ke spoke, the more awkward Lan Wuyi became, as if they were strangers rather than old friends.
"I saw that film. The plot was decent," Kun Yun commented.
Pit of Rebirth was a complete loser at the Golden Rooster Awards. It failed to win Best Film, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. Ban Ke had never liked the film, believing that top-tier directors, actors, and writers had come together only to create a third-rate mess.
The issue, in her view, was that the director kept tampering with the script. The final product was an incoherent patchwork.
Ban Ke had voted against it for all the key awards, but of course, she'd never admit it aloud. Saying so would just offend people.
"Here, Teacher Ban, have some water." Kun Yun thoughtfully handed her a glass.
"Eat some melon, eat some pineapple, Teacher Ban," Zhou Dakong offered a plate of fruit.
As the introductions continued, it turned out both Chen Mei and Ban Ke were graduates of the Central Academy of Drama. But they were basically strangers, and their greeting was formal and distant.
Judging by appearances alone, Chen Mei looked about seven or eight years older than Ban Ke.
Having two guests from the Central Academy was no coincidence. In the entertainment industry, the Central Academy of Drama, Beijing Film Academy, and Shanghai Theatre Academy accounted for 70 to 80 percent of the talent pool.
Soon, the big goof noticed something.
"Where's Xiao Mei?"
"There's another guest who arrived today. She didn't come with Teacher Ban, so Xiao Mei went to pick her up," Kun Yun replied. "This guest also happens to be someone Brother Jiu knows."
Someone familiar? Chu Zhi became alert. He wanted to see what new twist the production team was planning.
A moment later, Tan Lu returned briskly, leading the new guest in.
He was a middle-aged man with average looks and no standout features, but somehow his face gave off an unintentional comedic charm—especially his eyebrows, which looked like they were dancing the tango.
"My dear Captain, we meet again."
That voice and face—there was no mistaking it. It was the comedic actor Min Jeongbae.
"Didn't expect you to be here too, Brother Min." Chu Zhi greeted him with a warm handshake. Min Jeongbae pulled him into a hearty hug.
So they brought in a comedian to balance out the two guests with depression? Or maybe they were afraid something might happen to Chu Zhi and thought a familiar face would help?
Whatever the reason, did no one consider that Min Jeongbae might have mental issues too?
Great. Out of four guests, two had psychological problems. No wait... Chu Zhi corrected himself. From a god's-eye view, he was one of them. This wasn't Longing for Life. This was more like Patients Sharing Their Symptoms.
Although both Min Jeongbae and Ban Ke were actors, their fame was worlds apart. Min Jeongbae was one of the biggest box office draws in the country. So their greeting was smooth and cordial.
"Red Nose, the Great Red Nose is here to preach some wisdom!" said Chen Mei. "I really like your movies."
"The Queen of Blood likes me? That means I can eat two more bowls tonight. I'm thrilled!" Min Jeongbae grinned.
Chen Mei had referred to one of his most iconic roles: the Red Nose, a clown who hilariously saved the world. Likewise, "Queen of Blood" was Chen Mei's breakout role during her prime. The two were playfully trading compliments by referencing each other's classic performances.
"Captain, you know, I have a dream. Not sure if it can come true," Min Jeongbae suddenly said.
"Go ahead, Brother Min. I'm listening," said Chu Zhi.
"I wonder if I could taste one of your home-cooked meals."
"Uh..." The so-called Emperor Beast had no kitchen skills in his past life or in this one. Even making pear syrup after watching a tutorial had nearly gone sideways.
"Sure. As long as you're brave enough to eat it, I'll be brave enough to cook it," said Chu Zhi.
"I'll eat anything you make, no question." Min Jeongbae was firm.
"Looks like Chef Lan's out of a job today," Kun Yun laughed.
"Dinner, huh? If Brother Jiu is cooking, I can be his sous chef," Lan Wuyi offered. "Or maybe I'll just take it easy for once."
"Really looking forward to Brother Jiu's cooking," Zhou Dakong chimed in, then nudged Tan Lu. "Aren't you, Xiao Mei?"
Tan Lu nodded eagerly. Getting to eat food made by her idol—of course she was happy.
On a variety show, keeping quiet usually meant no screen time. That's why both Zhou Dakong and Kun Yun made a habit of initiating scenes. In a way, Tan Lu had become everyone's little favorite.
"Hope it doesn't kill anyone," Chen Mei joked.
"Unlikely to be fatal," Chu Zhi mused. "Probably just... half-dead."
"Oho, this job's getting dangerous," Min Jeongbae laughed. "But Captain, I believe in you."
Chu Zhi didn't know how the conversation had ended up with him cooking. He started thinking of simple dishes, trying to keep it within his skill range.
He braced for failure. The system didn't come with cooking skills. And even if it did, he'd have to spend points to unlock them. Besides, no one expected idols to be perfect. Showing some flaws made them more relatable.
"Then tonight, I'll make coconut chicken," Chu Zhi decided.
"A signature dish from Qiong Province. Coconut chicken works," said Chef Lan.
Meals were a big deal on Longing for Life, and after some discussion, dinner plans were set.
First, Ban Ke and Min Jeongbae went to drop off their luggage. Ban Ke had requested her own room, so Min Jeongbae naturally got one too.
"This room's pretty nice. Bed's comfy," Min Jeongbae said as he tidied his clothes. Then he did a dramatic belly flop onto the bed.
With a loud "whoops"—he rolled right off.
Bouncing up like a spring, Min Jeongbae rushed to the camera.
"You didn't see that, right? That footage isn't going on air, right? Good. I trust we have an agreement."
Ban Ke, meanwhile, noticed her bed faced directly toward the window. She pulled the curtains shut.
She liked the sun, but not when it shone straight onto the bed. It made her uneasy.
A small detail: she didn't unpack her clothes. Only her skincare and cosmetics came out, haphazardly arranged on the vanity, like a messy battalion of mismatched soldiers.
Clouds gathered, dimming the sunlight. The air seemed to carry a warning. The cows in the barn were restless and breathing hard. The hens in the pen flapped their wings like they sensed their fate and tried to fly out.
Around 3 p.m., it was time to prep dinner. Coconut chicken obviously needed coconuts, and the mushroom house's backyard had coconut trees.
The production team had planned a coconut-picking segment. Perfect timing.
"You want me to climb up there? No way, I'm scared of heights," said Min Jeongbae, waving his hand like a beckoning cat.
"Lan and I are too old for this. Hardware's not up to the task," said Kun Yun.
Lan Wuyi protested. "I work out regularly. My hardware's top-tier."
Kun Yun said nothing. He just glanced at Lan's toned abs. The silence said everything.
"I'm not scared of heights, but I've got poor coordination. I'd probably fall with a 'thud,'" Chen Mei gestured.
"I'll go."
"I'm good at climbing."
"Let me."
Three voices rang out at once. Chu Zhi and Zhou Dakong made sense. But Ban Ke volunteering was surprising.
The ever-sensitive Emperor Beast felt something was off.
Ban Ke hadn't shown any interest in the climbing discussion. But when Chen Mei mentioned the idea of falling with a "thud," she suddenly offered to go.
Two coconut trees stood by the door. The left was about eighteen meters tall, the right twenty-two. Chu Zhi and Zhou Dakong each went first, gathering four to five coconuts apiece.
They used proper equipment: climbing spikes and safety harnesses. First, the belt wrapped around the waist and tree trunk. Then special shoe hooks gripped the bark as they slowly inched upward. With care, it was quite safe.
"Be careful, Teacher Ban," Chu Zhi reminded her. He wasn't afraid of heights, but looking down from halfway up still made his heart race.
Ban Ke started climbing seriously. But when she got two-thirds of the way up, just short of the fruit, she froze.
Not all depression patients experience suicidal thoughts. But those with strong survival instincts usually avoid dangerous spots like rooftops or cliffs.
Right now, Ban Ke felt an overwhelming urge to let go, to slide down. Her mind blocked out all thoughts of her daughter. If she slipped, she might see her son again.
"Feeling tired, Teacher Ban? No rush. Just rest for a bit," Kun Yun shouted up.
"It's exhausting," Lan Wuyi added. "Even Brother Jiu and Zhou Dakong were panting when they came down."
Only Chu Zhi remained tense. He couldn't prove anything, but something felt wrong.
He spoke silently to the system.
"System bro, if anything happens and I rush over to save her and end up seriously injured, I need a warning. You're basically my half-brother."
[Preemptive alerts are part of the system's function,] the cold reply came.
Then everything happened in an instant.
Ten seconds later, Ban Ke began climbing again. Chu Zhi let out a breath. Watching someone fall in front of you could lead to PTSD.
Though some fans suspected he had it, he didn't want it to be true.
Then Ban Ke's foot slipped.
She dropped.
Thanks to the safety harness, it wasn't a freefall. The descent made a loud whooshing sound, faster than sliding down the trunk but slower than a fall.
Everyone's expression changed—Lan Wuyi, Kun Yun, Chen Mei, even Min Jeongbae and Zhou Dakong froze in shock.
Chu Zhi didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, arms ready.
"Grab the belt! Lean back! Use your body weight to stop yourself!" he shouted.
Ban Ke snapped out of her daze. Fear triggered her survival instinct. She leaned back, the strap cut into her back painfully, but it halted her fall.
Just before she hit the ground, Chu Zhi caught her. The weight still slammed into him, and his right arm throbbed from the strain.
It all happened in seconds. The others stood frozen like statues.
Only after Ban Ke was safely on the ground did they come rushing in.
"Are you alright, Teacher Ban?" Lan Wuyi looked visibly shaken.
If something had gone wrong, the showrunners would be in serious trouble. As one of the producers, Lan Wuyi had every reason to panic.
"Does anything hurt? Any discomfort?" Zhou Dakong and Tan Lu hovered anxiously.
Kun Yun immediately called the medical team via radio. Since they were filming in Yunnan, the team had prepared for emergencies like food poisoning or wild fungi.
"Captain, are you alright?" Min Jeongbae asked Chu Zhi. That catch looked painful.
"My leg hurts a bit. Nothing else," Ban Ke said, still shaken.
"What would happen to my daughter if something really did happen to me...?" she thought.
"Why did you do that?" Ban Ke scolded herself silently.
"And you, Teacher Chu? Are you okay?" she asked.
As grateful as she was guilty, Ban Ke couldn't imagine what might've happened if Chu Zhi hadn't shouted and caught her. She could've ended up with a fractured leg—or worse.
"Just a bit of pain in my right wrist. Should be fine," Chu Zhi answered.
"Doesn't matter if it's minor. A doctor should still take a look," Kun Yun insisted.
The medical team rushed over. After a quick check, Chu Zhi was diagnosed with a sprained wrist. Ban Ke had a linear fracture near her left ankle. They needed an X-ray to confirm, so she was taken to the nearby town hospital.
"The descendant of a hero... is really something else," Lan Wuyi murmured.
Kun Yun overheard. "No hesitation. Didn't care if he got hurt. Just like during the Ishikari earthquake. That kid... breaks your heart."
"Exactly. Didn't even consider getting crushed himself," Lan Wuyi nodded.
The more he saw, the more he hated Kangfei Entertainment and Dahua Entertainment. One betrayed him, the other slandered him.
He looked them up on his phone. Kangfei had long since gone bankrupt, and Dahua had crumbled from its former glory. They were robbing Peter to pay Paul now. Lan Wuyi made a mental note: no Dahua artists would appear on Back to the Countryside again.
Ban Ke was sent to the town hospital for treatment, while those with lighter injuries stayed behind for on-site care.
As the doctor treated Chu Zhi's wrist, his system suddenly spoke up.
[Host, you ran in without waiting for my warning. That was dangerous. Please do not act like this again.]
"It didn't warn me, which means there was no real danger. If there had been, I would've prioritized survival. You don't have to worry. I'm not the self-sacrificing type," Chu Zhi thought to himself.
"But still, how does this not count as saving a life?" he grumbled, glancing at the "King of the World" achievement tab. The count hadn't gone up. His eyes narrowed.
[After analysis, the height from which she fell would have caused severe compound fractures in both legs, not fatal injuries.]
Chu Zhi muttered internally, "What a waste."
Meanwhile, dinner preparations resumed without him. The signature coconut chicken dish fell to Chef Lan Wuyi, with Zhou Dakong and Min Jeongbae helping out. Min, tasked with slaughtering the chicken, managed to create one hilarious scene after another.
"Brother Jiu's different. You can really tell," Zhou Dakong murmured, his mind still on the earlier incident. Only someone who'd experienced it firsthand could understand the weight of such split-second decisions.
In that instant, Zhou Dakong had only two reactions: "Oh crap" and "We're screwed."
"No kidding. The entertainment industry can't afford to lose Chu Zhi, just like the West can't afford to lose Jerusalem," Min Jeongbae said. In Journey Among the Stars, he was a hardcore fan of Chu Zhi.
He added, "Back during the earthquake, our Captain didn't even hesitate before saving me."
Elsewhere, Ban Ke sat in the rattling van. The road wasn't bad, the car just sucked. The jolts matched the storm swirling in her chest.
She only got small gigs and obscure commercial events, but still pulled in over 300,000 yuan a year. She gave her daughter everything she could, almost as if trying to pour the love meant for her late son into her surviving child.
Her daughter was growing up healthy and well — but that only deepened Ban Ke's guilt, not her pride. She didn't feel relieved or like she had made up for something.
Because deep down, she believed that if not for her, her son might've lived to experience this world.
With only one child left, Ban Ke tried to give her daughter everything. That obsessive compensation became a vicious cycle. Her depression stemmed directly from that cycle.
At the hospital, they took an X-ray first. Sure enough, it was a linear fracture near her left ankle. For peace of mind, they did a full-body check as well. No other problems.
A splint was applied. Her left leg now looked like an elephant's. Still, Ban Ke decided to keep filming. By dinner, she was already on her way back to Mushroom House.
She made it just in time for hot coconut chicken.
"Coconut chicken tastes better with Qingyuan chicken. It's more tender," Lan Wuyi said. "Not that salt-cured Wugu chicken is bad. It's just better suited for soup."
This kind of backhanded humility was classic Chef Lan. No matter how much the guests praised his dishes, he'd always point out two non-issues, just to show how refined his skills were.
"Depression causes stiffness in the body, right? Was that why it happened earlier?" Kun Yun asked, cutting straight to the point mid-meal.
Ban Ke's earlier fall had been part accident, part self-harm. She didn't want to outright admit she'd been suicidal, so she nodded along. "A little. Sometimes it feels like my body is trapped inside a suit of heavy armor."
"Makes sense," Kun Yun nodded. "What about you, Jiu? Do you get that too?"
"Sometimes," Chu Zhi replied. "But not too badly."
"You too, Teacher Chu?" Ban Ke was stunned.
You couldn't blame her for being out of the loop. Between raising her daughter and making ends meet, she had no time to keep up with industry news. She only knew Chu Zhi had become a popular singer two years ago. Nothing more.
"Jiu was diagnosed with major depressive disorder two years ago," Lan Wuyi said. "Also moderate anxiety."
Thanks to Mango TV's variety show Red Mansion, the entire internet knew about Chu Zhi's condition — and his past suicide attempt. It wasn't a secret.
"Major?" Ban Ke couldn't believe it. Chu Zhi always seemed so gentle, kind, and considerate. It was hard to imagine someone like him struggling with such darkness.
But she also knew Kun Yun wouldn't bring it up unless it was completely true.
She had so many things she wanted to say, but they all got stuck in her throat. In the end, Ban Ke could only manage a single sentence:
"Teacher Chu, how did you do it?"