“Yuan Yifei has been detained, which left a vacancy for this episode of Mission Impossible. We’ve managed to secure the spot.”

Fang Liuyun explained calmly and methodically.

“So, you’ll head over this afternoon to record the show. Their team will take care of your styling and make sure you shine on camera.”

Mission Impossible?

Cheng Youran was taken aback. This show wasn’t just any variety program—it was widely regarded as the national treasure of Chinese entertainment. Most variety shows had to beg big stars to participate, but Mission Impossible was the one that big stars fought to be on.

It was easy to imagine how much effort Yuan Yifei must have put into securing a guest spot, only to have it all go to waste now.

Even Cheng Youran couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. What bad luck.

However, when Fang Liuyun mentioned Yuan Yifei, there wasn’t the slightest fluctuation in her voice. This was simply how the Lu Corporation operated—calm, efficient, and ruthlessly pragmatic.

A cautious assistant trailing behind Fang Liuyun handed over a thick stack of documents. “Sister Youran…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Cheng Youran shivered at the sight of the familiar blue cover. “There are only four hours until the afternoon shoot.”

There was no way she could memorize all of this!

Fang Liuyun’s hand was already hovering over her phone, poised to dial 911 as she leaned forward slightly and carefully chose her words. “It only looks like a lot.”

Cheng Youran, skeptical, flipped open the stack of documents. Her expression relaxed slightly as she skimmed through. Fang Liuyun was right—most of it outlined the variety show’s process.

While there were traces of pre-planning, the material left plenty of room for the guests to improvise. It wasn’t like some shows that relied entirely on a rigid script, where the entertainment value depended on how well the guests could act.

After finishing the blue-covered documents, Cheng Youran’s expression which had been on the verge of fainting, turned into something remarkably colorful.

This wasn’t just a script—it was practically a guide to showing off!

If she still believed Lu Zixiao was broke, she’d have to be a complete idiot (｀Δ)ゞ.

…

That afternoon, at the filming location for Mission Impossible.

A stretched Bentley pulled up in front of the production crew. The moment it parked, several staff members paused their work to take a good look at the car.

“A Bentley Mulsanne 6.8T long wheelbase.”

The cameraman, hefting his camera on his shoulder, identified it with precision. “Just the base model costs over five million yuan. Who’s showing up to a shoot in a luxury car like this? They must be loaded.”

Mission Impossible was an outdoor reality show, and while this episode’s location was in the heart of Donghai City, the filming site was chaotic, with plenty of people bustling around. There was no guarantee the car wouldn’t get scratched or bumped. It was clear this person wasn’t just rich—they were ridiculously rich, treating a luxury car like a commuter vehicle.

“Who else could it be? Feng Tiantian, of course. Her dad’s the vice president of Zhongyuan Group—a true heiress, rich and beautiful. She only joined the entertainment industry for fun.”

A crew member in a baseball cap chimed in confidently.

His guess was spot on. A sweet-looking young woman with honey-blonde curls stepped out of the stretched Bentley. Her dimples ran deep, and her smile was like a dollop of honey.

“She’s just as sweet as her name suggests.”

Feng Tiantian was used to these kinds of stares. She glanced around the set and casually asked a nearby staff member. “Where’s Yuan Yifei? I don’t see her anywhere.”

After all, her father’s company was one of the main sponsors for this season of Mission Impossible.

Yuan Yifei had always followed her around, trying to curry favor. When Tiantian came to the show to promote her new movie, Yuan Yifei had practically cried rivers, stopping just short of getting on her knees to beg for a spot. Feeling generous, Tiantian had brought her along.

“You don’t know?”

The staff member blinked in surprise while the crew member in the baseball cap suppressed a chuckle, coughing lightly to hide his amusement.

Feng Tiantian frowned slightly, her delicate brows knitting together. She’d just returned from a vacation abroad—how would she know what had happened to Yuan Yifei?

“Here, take a look, sis.”

The crew member opened Weibo on his phone and handed it to her.

She took it, and there it was—Yuan Yifei’s scandal ranked fifth on the trending list: Yuan Yifei throws coffee, gets detained.

[Little Cat Doesn’t Eat Fish]: I remember these two used to be close when they first debuted. One married into a wealthy family, the other’s singing about “Iron Bars and Tears.” Life sure is ironic.

[Lemon Spirit]: Hahaha! Whoever said they were close probably doesn’t know how Yuan Yifei once spread rumors about Cheng Youran being transgender.

[Yan Junze’s Girlfriend]: Yuan Yifei has always been a bully, picking on the weak. Back then, she publicly insulted a small idol I used to follow. Honestly, she had this coming.

“Thanks.”

Feng Tiantian immediately pieced together the story. Her expression darkened slightly. Yuan Yifei was someone she had personally recommended, and now this scandal? It was embarrassing, to say the least. Without another word, she handed the phone back to the crew member.

“Whoa, you guys, look at that!”

“That car is insane!”

“I’m so jealous right now.”

Exclamations filled the air again. Feng Tiantian’s irritation eased a little—who didn’t enjoy a bit of admiration? With a wry smile, she glanced at the crew member in the baseball cap and said. “Was bringing this car really too much?”

“This car of yours? Not even close to excessive.” The crew member stammered, his gaze fixed on the massive RV that had just rolled up across from them.

Now that was over the top. He had only ever seen it in magazines—a DDSL trailer RV. When fully expanded, its total area reached an astonishing 45 square meters, complete with a lounge, shower, dining room, and living room. Just the base model cost over ten million yuan. Compared to this behemoth, the stretched Bentley felt utterly insignificant.

The DDSL came to a stop, and a strikingly beautiful woman stepped out. Her slightly wavy black hair caught in the breeze, a few strands framing a face so exquisite it defied description.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that, for a moment, everyone’s breath hitched.

“She’s stunning.”

The cameraman, driven by instinct, raised the camera hanging around his neck and snapped a picture to immortalize the moment.

Even someone as oblivious as Feng Tiantian couldn’t ignore the fact that all eyes had shifted away from her. She turned and saw Cheng Youran approaching, flanked by the magnificent DDSL RV—a vehicle that couldn’t be purchased for less than ten million yuan.

So, this was what had left everyone in awe.

Feng Tiantian’s face burned with embarrassment. This was the first time in her life she’d felt truly outshined. The feeling left a bitter taste in her mouth, and her impression of Cheng Youran soured instantly.

“Hello, I’m Cheng Youran,” Cheng Youran greeted, extending her hand gracefully.

“Hello,” Feng Tiantian replied, forcing a smile as she took her hand.

Feng Tiantian greeted Cheng Youran with a curt nod, skipping the handshake entirely before turning and walking away. It was clear to anyone watching that she wasn’t pleased.

Cheng Youran, however, wasn’t offended. Instead, she let out a soft sigh. If she can’t handle this, how was she going to survive the rest of the shoot? She might end up jumping into a river by the end of it.

About twenty minutes later, all three resident hosts and three guest stars had arrived.

The resident hosts included actor Meng Fei, singer Zhang Junlun, and variety show regular Yang Xixi—all seasoned entertainers a full decade older than Cheng Youran.

Alongside Cheng Youran and Feng Tiantian, the third guest was the legendary Zhou Huiwen, a diva who had dominated the Asian music scene in the last century. Today, she was undeniably the grand dame of Mandarin pop music.

The director, a round-faced and bald middle-aged man, handed out task envelopes after brief introductions. “Before we begin the mission, everyone must hand over any cash they’re carrying.”

Cheng Youran didn’t have any cash on her, so she took the envelope directly and opened it. Inside, there were only two words:

Lonely children.

The teams were quickly divided—three resident hosts in one group and the three guest stars in the other. Each team had to race against the clock to complete their mission.

Zhou Huiwen, who wasn’t much of a talker, stood to the side, casually twisting her voluminous curls. Feng Tiantian, uninterested in engaging with her, chose instead to chat and laugh with the cameraman.

The three of them fell into an awkward silence, a stark contrast to the resident hosts, who were bursting into fits of laughter every few minutes.

The assistant director stood to the side, looking increasingly anxious. “Will this even make for good TV?”

The director clapped him on the shoulder and said with a wry smile. “Then why don’t you tell our sponsor daddy that the show isn’t worth filming because it won’t have good effects?”

The assistant director faltered. “…Never mind, let’s not do that.”

They had thought Zhongyuan Group was rich, but compared to the price Lu Corporation was willing to pay, it was peanuts.

Mission Impossible had been running for ten years, but reality was harsh.

Despite its reputation as a national variety show, its ratings had been steadily declining in the face of newer, flashier shows with bigger budgets and fresher formats. Nostalgia didn’t pay the bills, but even so, the assistant director couldn’t help but mourn the damage to the show’s legacy.

The director let out a quiet sigh of his own.

“Lonely children?”

Cheng Youran read the words on the mission card aloud. It sounded like a puzzle game, and her interest was instantly piqued.

“School?”

“Orphanage?”

She began guessing possible locations, her enthusiasm lighting up her face.

“Left-behind children?”

Cheng Youran quickly thought of places associated with children.

“Orphanage.”

Suddenly, Zhou Huiwen, who had been silent until now, spoke up. Her expression was tinged with a palpable sadness—an emotion that seemed out of place in a variety show setting.

“If it’s an orphanage, I can check.”

Cheng Youran opened her navigation app, and sure enough, there was only one welfare home in Donghai City. This solidified her guess. The drive would take about thirty minutes. “It’s not far; we can just take a cab.”

“A cab?”

Feng Tiantian scoffed. “Do you even have money for that?”

“Alipay,” Cheng Youran replied calmly, holding up her phone. “The rules only said we couldn’t use cash; they didn’t say anything about mobile payments.”

That… actually made sense.

Feng Tiantian fell silent.

The three of them flagged down a taxi by the roadside and headed straight to the Donghai City Welfare Home.

Donghai City, being part of a prosperous southern province, provided generous funding to its sole welfare home. Contrary to Cheng Youran’s expectations of something shabby or underfunded, the welfare home was spacious and well-maintained, with a bright, open layout. As they arrived, her gaze immediately fell on a camera set up near the entrance.

So, it really is the welfare home.

“Congratulations on reaching the mission location! Please draw your task cards!”

Cheng Youran’s card tasked her with teaching English to the children. Feng Tiantian’s card instructed her to play games with them, while Zhou Huiwen’s task was to buy gifts for the kids.

Cheng Youran: …This doesn’t seem to match the process flow. Shouldn’t she be the one buying gifts for the kids?

She quickly recalled the contents of the blue handbook:

“Upon arriving at the task location, you’ll receive a new mission card—buy gifts for the children…”

“When you learn of their tragic circumstances, you silently retract the cheap teddy bear and, with effortless grace, donate ten million yuan (remember to look at the camera): ‘This is my true gift.’”

Meanwhile, back in the production van, the assistant director shot to his feet as the live feed from the camera reached him. Who would’ve thought Cheng Youran’s team would arrive first? Meng Fei and his group were still in the subway, busking to earn money for their fare!

The first set of task cards had been prepared specifically for Meng Fei’s group. Somehow, the order had been mixed up.

Anyone in the industry knew that Cheng Youran had a notorious history with English. On a previous show, when the host jokingly asked how many letters were in the English alphabet, she hesitated before answering, “Twenty-five.” The clip went viral, causing an uproar online. It was such a debacle that the station used it as a case study for serious live-broadcast mishaps.

Never overestimate the educational background of celebrities!

Some people may look the part, but in reality, they don’t even know the 26 letters of the alphabet.

“It’s too late to change now.”

The director, watching the live feed, wore a look of existential despair. Well, at least they didn’t need to worry about the show’s content anymore. Now, it was a matter of whether offending the Lu Corporation meant they could even continue filming.

Mission Impossible had its own website with live-streaming capabilities, and the director opened his laptop to glance at the comments. As expected, they were full of chaos. The level of “haha” was dangerously off the charts.

[Qingshan Chi] “Cheng Youran teaching English? Remember that time she said there were 25 letters in the alphabet?”

[Sanliangjiu] “The production crew is bold. Hope Lu Corp’s legal team doesn’t send over a cease-and-desist letter!”

[Pangpang] “HAHAHAHAHA, this episode’s trending for sure. Just look at her face—poor thing!”

[Xiao Juzi] “This is totally me when I get called on to answer in class!”

Cheng Youran’s face darkened as she read the comments. With a deep sigh, she realized her dilemma wasn’t really the English—it was how to donate ten million yuan in a way that seemed natural and casual. She was in urgent need of a solution.

=^_^=