It was five in the afternoon, with two or three hours before dark.
The original plan for this episode was to last almost the whole day.
After the first game, it was lunchtime, then a break before the second game, which should take three hours, right? With the third game, it should definitely last until dark, right?
After dark, there would be a dinner gathering to choose tomorrow’s dance music, perfectly timed.
But they didn’t expect that everyone in this episode was so rebellious. Cutting the second game short was one thing, but in the third game, someone actually lay down and gave up, willing to be a permanent NPC in the next episode!
This is more than rebellion; it’s sacrilegious!
Now that all three games are done, there’s about two hours left from the original schedule. What should they do?
Director Guan, sitting in the command room, was having a headache and wished he could dive into the camera, grab Shi Yuhuai, and point him back to the battlefield.
The accompanying director was still reporting real-time updates through the walkie-talkie, continuously saying:
"Brother Huai is so tired of lying down he’s started fiddling with our small speaker."
"They’re starting to reveal their point allocation."
"They’ve realized Brother Huai’s points are indeed all deducted."
"Shu Ran is almost beating Guan Yu to a pulp."
"Director, should we end it? They’re all targeting me now!"
"Director, say something, I’m freaking out!"
Director: ...And I’m not freaking out?!
He was so upset he couldn’t even watch the live stream, frantically thinking of ways to extend the time. The assistant next to him peeked at the screen and the comments, murmuring:
"Director, it seems like the fans are even more excited. Maybe we could let them put on a show for the remaining two hours?"
The director glared at him: "Don’t think I don’t know you’re a fan of Li Yang!"
The assistant shrank back and didn’t say another word.
Another person popped up and said, "Director, I’m not a fan of Li Yang, can I make a suggestion?"
"Speak."
"How about we let them discuss among themselves and come up with a plan to pass the two hours? What we arrange might not please the fans, but something they arrange might."
The director pondered for two seconds and nodded: "That could work."
The assistant who claimed to be a Li Yang fan said wistfully: "Director, did you know he’s a fan of Brother Cheng? Why are you treating fans differently? We just want to see Li Yang perform."
Fans of Cheng Zhirang: "What’s the rush? If they think of a performance, it might just be Li Yang performing."
"So that was your plan. I was narrow-minded. Director, you should listen to him; it’s a great idea."
The director glanced at the two of them, raised a finger in a flamboyant manner, and said, "I have my own plans."
Then he called out to the engineer behind him: "Give me the broadcast mic!"
——
Everyone was flipping and waiting for the electronic voice to say "Game Over" but to no avail, and they were all tired.
The point allocation was checked twice to ensure everyone told the truth—the main thing was Shi Yuhuai telling the truth. His points were indeed all deducted, and he was even in a debt of two points, so the game should be over.
But there was no notification.
Shi Yuhuai tried lying flat, to the side, then half-paralyzed, but the small speaker by the roadside remained silent.
He struggled to sit up with the mattress against his back, frowning seriously at the staff behind the camera:
"I’m sure my points are all deducted, and I’m even at minus two. Why isn’t the game over?"
The staff didn’t know why either, and while thinking of asking the director again, Li Yang suddenly said:
"Maybe it only ends at zero points?"
Shi Yuhuai’s mind was very clear at that moment and refuted immediately:
"But I’m at negative points now. If negative conditions can keep the game going indefinitely, it’s impossible for the game to end. Even if I make it to positive three by catching someone, one point will always remain undeductive."
"Then someone else can end the game." Mu Qiu said quietly.
Guan Yu: "Doesn’t that make the end of the game very distant? Would the show plan be this perverse?"
Mu Qiu: "No. It’ll be even more perverse."
The crew: "......"
Fortunately, there are still some decent people in the crew. Just as Shi Yuhuai was about to lie down again and take a nap, the little disguised stone speaker by the roadside finally made a sound.
After the crackling static, a somewhat familiar voice, different from the cold electronic sound, came through.
"Attention all guests, attention all guests."
Guan Yu raised an eyebrow: "The director’s involved now. What’s the new trick?"
Shi Yuhuai: "If you could just be quiet for a moment, I’ll tell you immediately."
Guan Yu was immune to his male-centered, unkind remarks to female guests by now but still choked for a moment, pouting and softly complaining.
"Which straight guy on earth is strongest? Variety shows go find Huai Jiang. Forever alone."
Those three words pale compared to the interest sparked by "Game Over." Shi Yuhuai didn’t care at all.
He picked up a small speaker from the roadside, brought it close to his ear, lying on his side, focusing while waiting for the director’s next words.
A bit like an old man, blurred vision and hearing impaired, listening to the radio, having to bring the speaker directly to the ear to hear it clearly.
Mu Qiuxin thought of this analogy. Looking at his unmoving crossed legs and the waist sunk in after lying on the side, she mentally added half to the analogy.
This is an aged, visually impaired, hearing-impaired, quadriplegic old man listening to the radio.
From this picture, she could see the tenacity of human life and the unwavering faith in not giving up on a happy life.
So inspiring.
While she was engrossed in her thoughts, her left pinky finger was hooked.
Cheng Zhirang looked down at her, his eyes asking her what she was looking at.
She smiled, pursed her lips, and focused on listening to the director’s voice.
"All guests, the original end time and dinner were scheduled for 7:30 PM. But with everyone’s passive non-cooperation and collective laziness, the game ended two hours early.
The hot pot feast at Shell House that the production team booked for everyone isn’t ready yet. So, the production team decided—"
After speaking in a sarcastic tone, the director suddenly took a half-minute break, leaving everyone hanging. After another bout of crackling static, it was as if he took a sip of water, then continued.
"The production team decided that the third game can be officially considered over, but the remaining two hours need to be filled by yourselves.
As long as it’s legal, normal, meaningful, and appears in front of the camera with dialogue and action worth watching.
Any objections? Good, none. Then the remaining two hours are for you all to handle. Please feel free to express yourselves."
Others: "..." Could this habit of answering one’s own questions be contagious?
Mu Qiu’s eyes lit up, speaking in a light tone: "Isn’t this like a class presentation?!"
Guan Yu pouted: "With all these petty requirements, it definitely feels like a presentation."