FIG CHAPTER 41

The two of them returned fully loaded, but none of what they brought back was edible, which left the other members deeply disappointed.

Fortunately, Fu Rong had already anticipated this situation. Earlier, he had sent Koty to dig around a distant part of the beach, and he still hadn’t returned.

Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t tired at the moment, so he strolled over to see whether Koty was actually doing any serious work.

“I found another good thing, dear viewers! It’s a portable shovel!” Koty squatted on the ground, muttering to the camera by himself. “This will make digging a lot faster.”

Zhu Lianzhen spotted Koty’s location at a glance. A large stretch of the beach in front of him had been dug up, as if chewed by a pack of wild dogs, full of uneven holes and pits as far as the eye could see.

“Anything useful?” Zhu Lianzhen asked as he walked over.

Aside from the shovel in Koty’s hand, there were only a few scattered shells. The meat inside wasn’t nearly enough to fill their stomachs.

Spending a night hungry wasn’t a big deal. In any case, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t have much of an appetite right now.

“Hey, look at this.” Koty noticed that after the tide had receded, a few round white shells remained on the beach. He hurried to pick them up for a closer look.

They looked familiar to Zhu Lianzhen. After thinking for a moment, he actually remembered the name of the creature. “These are sand dollars! I saw them when I was playing Animal Crossing. They’re also called cake urchins.”

As he spoke, Zhu Lianzhen brushed the sand aside a few times, picked up a sand dollar, and held it up in front of Koty’s face, pointing at him. “Look, dear viewers, a massive sand dollar!”

“You’re such a child!” Koty scolded.

The two of them kept digging in the sand, goofing around until the sky grew darker and they finally lost the mood for laughter, focusing on the task at hand.

“Behold, another mineral water in the wild!” Koty added commentary, holding it up for the camera. “This species is clever. It hides under the sand to avoid predators. And since it’s naturally transparent, it blends into its surroundings no matter where it hides. Truly a master of stealth!”

Zhu Lianzhen squinted at him, unable to figure out what kind of shows this guy watched all day to learn Chinese like that.

Bottled water was, in fact, the easiest resource to obtain on this beach. Regardless of the situation, the crew had to prioritize health; they couldn’t actually let the celebrities drink random freshwater. Every bottle was buried shallowly, guaranteed to be found with just a bit of digging. Even if they didn’t find any food for now, just staying hydrated would be enough to get through the night.

Just then, Ji Yunting blew a whistle using a rolled-up leaf—loud enough for the two who had wandered off to hear.

“Sounds like he’s calling us back,” Zhu Lianzhen said.

The two of them carried six or seven bottles of water back to the tent area, only to find several packs of instant noodles laid out on the ground, along with some sticks and stones. These were what Ji Yunting had gathered while searching for fire-starting materials. Some of the stones had been ground sharp enough to temporarily serve as tools for cutting branches.

Zhu Lianzhen let out a sigh of relief and sat down on the spot. “Alright, so what should we do now?”

Ji Yunting replied, “Start a fire, boil water, cook noodles.”

Zhu Lianzhen: “Then let’s begin.”

No one moved.

He glanced at the materials on the ground, then turned to the nearest cameraman. “Don’t tell me we don’t have a lighter or matches?”

A director in the back whispered, “We only provided the tent.”

Sure enough, no one had brought a lighter—airport security had confiscated them all.

In other words, they either had to search the entire island in hopes of randomly finding a supply package with a lighter, which would be incredibly time-consuming, or resort to the most primitive method: starting a fire by friction.

There was no doubt the audience would be more interested in the latter.

As people who had grown up in a modern technological society, they could only stare blankly at the pile of wood and branches. However, Ji Yunting recalled a method he had seen in a science book. Earlier, he had even managed to gather some flammable tinder from a patch of plants. Unfortunately, knowing the theory was one thing, putting it into practice was another.

“This stone’s too dull. I can’t sharpen the branches.” Ji Yunting sighed.

Zhu Lianzhen silently pulled out a pencil sharpener. “I found this just now.”

No one had expected such a thing to come in handy.

With tools at the ready and tinder in place, the only thing left was the physically demanding task of fire-making. Ji Yunting stepped on a wooden board with a drilled hole and rapidly rubbed a branch between his palms. His hands moved so fast they blurred, yet not a wisp of smoke appeared.

“I can’t go on.” He let go and flopped onto his back, utterly exhausted.

“It’s only been a few minutes.” Zhu Lianzhen rolled up his sleeves, full of determination. “Let me try! Watch this!”

As it turned out, he had underestimated the task. After a brief burst of effort, his arms were unbearably sore. The wood didn’t even start to smoke, but his palms felt like they were on fire. He let out a few howls and shoved his hands into the cold sand to ease the pain.

Tan Qing turned on a flashlight, picked up the pieces of wood, and examined them carefully. Then he said, “They’re a bit damp. You can’t start a fire like this.”

To dry the wood, they would need sunlight, but the sun was already setting.

Koty quickly accepted the situation, tossed the shovel aside, and stretched. “Alright then, let’s figure it out after we get some sleep.”

“What were you holding just now?” Tan Qing asked.

“A shovel.” Koty picked it up again and threw it to him.

Tan Qing examined it. “It’s an entrenching tool.”

Koty: “Hm? So what?”

Without another word, Tan Qing twisted open the handle of the shovel and poured out the accessories stored inside the hollow tube: a small knife and an awl.

The tools were small, but on a deserted island, they were especially useful.

The others stared in surprise. Koty had been playing with the shovel for a long time without realizing the handle could be unscrewed, or that it even had a hidden compartment.

“This is the important part.” Tan Qing held up the handle and showed it to the cameraman for a close-up. Attached to it was a small black stick. “A magnesium rod. You can use it to start a fire.”

At those words, everyone’s spirits lifted again.

Tan Qing had no real fire-starting experience, so he had to rely on what little he knew. First, he scraped some magnesium shavings onto the tinder using the blade. Then he braced the rod against a stone and struck it quickly with the blade.

A sharp “zing” rang out, and sparks flew instantly.

“Whoa—” the others reacted like they’d just witnessed a magic trick.

But sparks alone didn’t mean success. They needed to actually ignite the tinder. Tan Qing tried several times before finally seeing a wisp of smoke rise from the dry fibers. He immediately cupped his hands around it and bent down to blow, causing the smoke to grow thicker.

Half a minute later, dense smoke billowed from the tinder, and a small flame appeared at the center of the stone pile.

Even the crew joined in the cheer of celebration.

“Rare footage of early humans taming fire!”

Out in the wild, once you had fire, most problems became manageable. Qiu Hao walked over with a satisfied expression and patted a few of them on the shoulder. “Well done. You’ve completed the hardest part. Everything else will be much easier. It’s already getting dark. Let’s pack up and go eat dinner.”

The members looked at him in confusion. The other staff were already packing up equipment, checking gear, and even the lighting technician had started organizing his backpack.

Zhu Lianzhen stopped Qiu Hao. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“Clocking out,” Qiu Hao replied matter-of-factly. “You’re the ones doing the survival challenge. There’s no way all of us are staying here. We’re heading back to the hotel for barbecue.”

“Wait, even our cameramen are turning off their cameras… then who’s going to film us!”

Qiu Hao pushed over a large black case. “Relax. We’ve left you all the camera and lighting gear. The chargers are in there too. Just don’t lose the memory cards.”

Seeing how decisively the production team was packing up, the members realized there was probably no room for negotiation.

In fact, a long time ago, Acemon’s group variety show had featured a similar task of producing an entire episode independently, without any involvement from the staff. The members had handled both the filming and post-editing themselves.

But now, the setting had changed to a deserted island, which made things significantly more challenging.

Before leaving, the directors gave each of them a phone for emergency contact, a large first-aid kit, a map of the island, and a marine life identification guide.

The phones had signal, which meant the island wasn’t actually far from inhabited areas—it was simply surrounded by sea and remained undeveloped.

“We’re off, bye!” Qiu Hao stood at the back of the boat and waved. “Oh, and don’t forget to check if things are poisonous before you eat them!”

“Get lost!”

After the production team left, the beach grew noticeably quieter, with only the sound of waves accompanying them.

They set up the cameras and lighting. Once everything was working properly, they gathered around the fire to boil water and slowly cook the noodles. Tan Qing chopped down some bamboo, cleaned it, and shaved a few sticks into chopsticks using the blade.

The remaining bamboo tubes were cut in half and temporarily used as bowls. They were a bit narrow, but at least they didn’t have to crowd around the pot, taking turns scooping bites. With Fu Rong’s obsession with cleanliness, that kind of contact was absolutely unacceptable.

After finishing the noodles, Koty started whining about wanting a Coke. “How is there not even a single coconut tree on such a big island?”

“Just being near the sea doesn’t mean coconuts will grow. The climate isn’t right,” Zhu Lianzhen replied—and immediately felt a bit cold.

In terms of accommodation, the production team had been fairly humane. Besides providing tents, they also included inflatable mattresses and five insulated sleeping bags to keep them warm during the early summer nights.

The bathhouse on the hillside had just been built and was quite clean and tidy.

Calling it a bathhouse was generous—it was really just a wooden hut that blocked the wind. The water pipe had to run for several minutes before clean water came out. If they wanted hot water, they had to heat it themselves, though there were plenty of wooden barrels for that purpose.

On the ground were two sealed plastic buckets: one containing clean clothes for changing, the other holding toiletries, including razors.

A printed note was stuck to the wall, clearly written by Pei Qiao: “Always maintain a neat appearance! Don’t forget to apply sunscreen every morning!”

Below her note, there was another line, likely handwritten by Qiu Hao: “This is basically just a vacation for them!”

Zhu Lianzhen sighed. “Compared to Director Qiu, this is the first time I’ve felt like Pei-jie actually cares about us like a mom.”

Ji Yunting held a handheld camera. “That’s only because we’re on camera now. Did you forget how Pei-jie used to send us to the countryside for military training? The conditions were no better than this. We had to get up at the crack of dawn every day when the roosters crowed.”

While they were chatting, Tan Qing had already laid out all the clothes and supplies on the wooden table, then washed the empty barrels and began filling them with water.

Koty: “You’re boiling water already?”

“To store for later,” Tan Qing replied. “We might not have enough clean drinking water, and using seawater to wash our hands isn’t ideal.”

One of the water barrels was extremely heavy. Zhu Lianzhen and Ji Yunting struggled to carry it together, wobbling as they walked down the slope, clearly having a hard time. Fu Rong couldn’t bear to watch any longer and turned back to lend a hand.

The two were instantly flattered, but Fu Rong said coldly, “Let go.”

Before they could even react, they felt the weight lift from their hands.

Then they watched, wide-eyed, as Fu Rong effortlessly carried the massive sealed barrel all by himself, striding forward without breaking a sweat.

Zhu Lianzhen’s arms were still trembling slightly from the effort. “Feels like if the sky fell, Fu Rong could hold it up with his hands.”

“Totally. And since you’re shorter than Fu Rong, if he’s holding it up, it definitely won’t hit you.” Ji Yunting picked up the camera Fu Rong had left behind. “Sigh. If it were me, no chance.”

Zhu Lianzhen immediately swung his arm in a wide arc and punched him.

Back in the tent, everyone picked their favorite sleeping bag colors and placed them where they intended to sleep.

Zhu Lianzhen turned his head and saw Tan Qing organizing things beside him. His heart suddenly skipped a beat.

He had almost forgotten that back when the group used to film variety shows, it was common for them to sleep together. To avoid the hassle of discussing arrangements, they had stuck to a default sleeping order.

Fu Rong and Zhu Lianzhen always slept on the far left and right sides—Fu Rong because he hated sleeping too close to others, and Zhu Lianzhen because he tossed and turned in his sleep and tended to disturb people.

Also, Fu Rong absolutely refused to sleep near Koty. The person next to him was usually Ji Yunting, since he had the most well-behaved sleeping posture.

That meant Tan Qing almost always ended up next to Zhu Lianzhen. Add in the need for CP fanservice, and the two of them naturally ended up side by side every time.

Zhu Lianzhen felt a tightness in his chest.

They had probably exchanged fewer than three sentences all day. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t dare look directly at Tan Qing, and Tan Qing hadn’t initiated any conversation either. Somehow, the atmosphere between them had turned awkward.

It was all because of guilt.

Blame Tan Qing for saying “let’s pretend we’re friends” the other day. How could they keep pretending when even a simple glance was enough to expose the ambiguity in their eyes?

After all five of them lay down in their sleeping bags, Koty, who was in the middle, was in charge of turning off the lights. Darkness immediately enveloped the tent, and the sound of waves rolled on endlessly, as if carrying a sleep-inducing rhythm.

Suddenly, Koty asked, “Leader! Are you sure it’s okay to leave the camera gear outside? What if it rains in the middle of the night?”

“If you want to bring it into the tent, you’ll have to go out to make room for it,” Ji Yunting replied. “Don’t worry, the box is waterproof.”

A few seconds of silence passed. Then Koty asked again, “What if someone steals our pot?”

Ji Yunting: “Who’s going to steal it on this island?”

Koty: “Friday.”[mfn]Character from Robinson Crusoe[/mfn]

Fu Rong: “Psycho.”

It was unclear whether he was insulting Koty or answering his question.

“Kissy, Kissy,” Koty whispered.

Tan Qing: “Hm?”

“Can you cook us some seafood tomorrow?”

“Mm. Remember to check the shore when the tide goes out.”

They continued chatting idly, but Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t listening; his thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

Before long, Koty asked, “Zhu Lianzhen, why are you so quiet?”

Only then did he snap out of it.

“I’m sleepy,” he mumbled.

“It’s not even that late. That’s not your usual routine. Don’t tell me you’re having trouble adjusting to the environment? Director Qiu left us some medicine. Want to pick one you like and give it a try?”

“Idiot.” Zhu Lianzhen deliberately made his voice breathy to sound drowsy.

Tan Qing cut in, “Let’s move the tent farther uphill tomorrow. It’s a bit too close to the water.”

The others agreed, and just like that, the topic was naturally diverted.

Zhu Lianzhen turned onto his side, facing away from the group, and shut his eyes.

Even after the others had gone quiet, he couldn’t fall asleep. The mattress was just barely tolerable, but the sleeping bag confined his entire body to a tiny space, which was completely at odds with his habit of sprawling out in all directions.

He stuck an arm out of the sleeping bag, thought for a moment, then pulled it back in. Still not comfy. He decided to change positions but, worried about disturbing Tan Qing beside him, shifted little by little every few seconds.

Eventually, he managed to lie flat on his back and took a slow, deep breath.

At that moment, he sensed a shadow shift beside him in the dark, then felt Tan Qing’s hand brush against his sleeping bag.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t dare breathe too loudly. He heard the sound of a zipper being pulled open.

In the dim moonlight, Tan Qing’s silhouette became faintly visible. He sat up and unzipped the side of Zhu Lianzhen’s sleeping bag from top to bottom, then gently tugged it outward.

Zhu Lianzhen had no idea what Tan Qing was doing, but he cooperated in a daze, lifting his body slightly. At that moment, he realized the sleeping bag that had been binding his limbs had suddenly turned into a quilt.

So it could be unfolded after all.

Tan Qing quietly finished helping him, then lay back down without making another move.

Zhu Lianzhen subtly turned his face in Tan Qing’s direction, but couldn’t make out his expression.

Accompanied by the soothing sound of waves, everyone had a decent rest that night.

The next morning, after washing up, they worked together to move the tent to a clearing farther up the slope. It was drier there, more suitable for building a fire, and the sea breeze that blew in didn’t smell as fishy.

Ji Yunting sorted through the camera equipment, checked the battery levels, and handed out handheld gimbals and head-mounted cameras.

Now it was time for everyone to split up and search for supplies and food. Koty went to the beach to dig for sand crabs, while Ji Yunting used the fishhooks, bait, and bamboo rods they had found the day before to make a simple fishing rod and headed toward the rocks to fish.

The remaining three headed deeper into the forest.

Zhu Lianzhen climbed to a higher spot and looked back, taking in the view of the sunrise over the sea. It was rare to see such a complete and beautiful sunrise in the city. He couldn’t help but stop, holding the camera and sighing, “So beautiful.”

“Zhu Lianzhen,” Tan Qing called from ahead, urging him to catch up. Fu Rong was already so far ahead he had almost disappeared, not even glancing back.

Zhu Lianzhen responded and remembered that Ji Yunting had set up a camera earlier to capture a time-lapse, so they didn’t need to take extra landscape footage themselves.

He hurried forward, and as he caught up to Tan Qing, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

What had Tan Qing just called him? His full name?

“Hold on, there’s something under here,” Tan Qing said, interrupting his thoughts.

Zhu Lianzhen looked down and saw a bump on the otherwise flat roadside. He grabbed a sturdy stick, loosened the soil, and dug it out.

It turned out to be a vacuum-sealed bag of glutinous rice!

Inside the moisture-proof outer bag was also a prop card with a fan message from the official website: “We heard this episode will air during the Dragon Boat Festival. We want to see the A-Group eating zongzi[mfn]Sticky rice dumplings [/mfn] on a deserted island!”

Zhu Lianzhen read it aloud, then gave Tan Qing a helpless glance.

Tan Qing picked up the bag of rice and smiled at the camera. “Sure.”

The two of them continued walking. After that brief delay, Fu Rong was completely out of sight. Zhu Lianzhen muttered worriedly, “He’s not gonna get lost, is he?”

Tan Qing turned to look at him and gave him a slight smile, saying nothing.

Zhu Lianzhen knew exactly what that look meant. He was definitely thinking: Compared to Fu Rong, you’re the one more likely to get lost.

Who are you looking down on!

To get some content for the recording, Zhu Lianzhen would sometimes talk to fill the silence. “That thing that looks like a Devil Fruit.[mfn]Fictional fruit from One Piece manga/anime [/mfn] Can you eat it? I saw a bunch of them on the island.”

“That’s a pandanus tree. The fruit’s also called wild pineapple,” Tan Qing told him. “You shouldn’t eat it unless absolutely necessary. It has trace toxins and will leave a dry feeling in your mouth.”

“What book did you learn that from?”

“I saw it on an adventure show. I vaguely remember.”

“You’re into that kind of show? I thought you’d prefer something more stay-at-home… like food programs?” Zhu Lianzhen said.

Tan Qing turned his face and whispered, “Actually, there are a lot of places I want to go—”

Zhu Lianzhen noticed his lips part slightly, assuming there was more to that sentence. But Tan Qing didn’t say anything else. He pressed his lips together and continued walking.

After a while, Tan Qing called out to him, “Zhu Lianzhen.”

Then he reached into a bush and plucked something, turning back to hand it over.

It was a brownish cylindrical object, shaped like a candle—ugly, too. Zhu Lianzhen weighed it in his hand. It was very light, and he couldn’t figure out what it was for.

He looked up at Tan Qing in confusion. Tan Qing said, “Squeeze it.”

Zhu Lianzhen did as he said. As he squeezed it, there was a soft rustling sound, and then a large tuft of fluff burst out between his fingers.

“What the heck? Gave me a scare.” As he spoke, Zhu Lianzhen gave it a few more squeezes, and more of the cottony stuff came pouring out. It felt like some kind of stress-relief toy.

“Cattail,” Tan Qing said. “You can play with it by the beach. The wind will blow it everywhere.”

“Oh.” Zhu Lianzhen picked a few more and stuffed them into his pocket.

After a while, he started to feel something wasn’t right. He realized the only reason Tan Qing had picked that thing was to let him play with it. What, did he think he was some kid who liked blowing dandelions?

Who are you looking down on!

Up ahead was a fork in the trail. Zhu Lianzhen thought maybe they should split up. This kind of forced interaction in front of the camera was too much of a hassle. He’d rather talk to the camera alone.

But Tan Qing didn’t give him the chance and simply said, “Let’s go this way. Feels like something might be hidden ahead.”

Zhu Lianzhen hurriedly followed.

His handheld camera beeped with a low battery warning. He had assumed it would last and hadn’t brought a spare.

Luckily, Tan Qing had brought two. They paused the recording and stood there to switch batteries.

During that brief break without the cameras rolling, Zhu Lianzhen relaxed a little. Recalling their earlier conversation, he asked casually, “Where do you want to go?”

“Hm?”

“Didn’t you just say there were a lot of places you wanted to visit?”

Tan Qing’s expression remained calm as he looked down, adjusting the equipment. “It’s nothing. To me, every place is the same.”

Made sense. Whenever the two of them had taken vacations abroad before, it had always been Zhu Lianzhen who picked the destination. Tan Qing never had much of an opinion; he was only in charge of planning the itinerary.

“Wanna go somewhere in a bit?” Zhu Lianzhen asked. “All of us together, like now. Might actually be kind of fun.”

But the moment he said it, he regretted it. Where had that ridiculous idea come from? What fun could the five of them possibly have together? They could argue from morning to night just over what to eat for three meals a day.

“Probably not anytime soon. Didn’t Director Qiu say there’s a new show, and someone from the group’s going to be invited?” Tan Qing said.

Zhu Lianzhen paused. “Oh.”

He had almost forgotten about that.

Zhu Lianzhen: “So, are you going to do the show?”

Tan Qing: “They didn’t say it was me.”

“Of course it’s you. You’re the most suitable choice. I remember fans always say they want to see you on a dating show.”

Considering social trends and public preferences, a male-female couple was always easier to market than two guys pushing boundaries. If this opportunity could be used to break up the QingZhen CP, maybe it would be a blessing in disguise for both of them.

Tan Qing finished changing the battery and placed the gimbal back in Zhu Lianzhen’s hand. “Do you think I should go?”

“That kind of job isn’t even hard for you. You’ve always been good at fanservice.”

Tan Qing gave a barely noticeable smile. “Like what I do with you?”

Zhu Lianzhen knew this topic couldn’t continue. He reached to start filming again, but realized Tan Qing’s hand was still pressing down on the gimbal, applying just enough pressure to keep him from pulling away.

“It’s time to record,” Zhu Lianzhen said seriously.

Just then, a rustling sound came from the bushes nearby. They both looked over to see Fu Rong strolling out at a relaxed pace. He paused and looked up to meet their eyes.

He probably hadn’t expected to run into them so soon. Fu Rong raised an eyebrow slightly, then spent a few seconds observing them.

He quickly came to a conclusion. “Am I interrupting something?”

As he spoke, he didn’t forget to turn off both his handheld and head-mounted cameras.

Tan Qing smiled at him. “Yeah.”

“…We weren’t doing anything!” Zhu Lianzhen quickly snatched back his gimbal and strode ahead.

Fu Rong gave him a sideways glance and noticed that his ears had turned red.

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