Chapter 420: Two Film Emperor Powerhouses Join Forces, Swindling Two Pounds of Shrimp for One Yuan and Twenty Cents!
The next day, at Sanya’s First Farmers’ Market.
Director Wu Tong stood at the entrance, grinning like a fox that had just raided a henhouse.
“Everyone, what’s for dinner is entirely up to you.”
Wu Tong pointed at the bustling stalls behind him.
“The rules are simple. The program crew won’t provide a single cent of funding.”
“You can trade with your labor, your talents, or… barter.”
The camera swept across the guests’ faces.
Zhao Kuo Tai pinched her nose, a look of pure disgust on her face as she eyed the wastewater flowing on the ground.
Lin Ouyang still wore that pair of semi-permanent sunglasses, trying to maintain the dignity of a traffic idol.
Only Chu Hong’s eyes lit up.
“Action!”
With Wu Tong’s command, Lin Ouyang was the first to dash out.
He set his sights on a stall selling grouper.
The stall owner was a shirtless middle-aged man, swinging a knife to kill fish, scales flying everywhere.
“Big brother!” Lin Ouyang took off his sunglasses, flashing a standard professional smile. “I’m Lin Ouyang, do you know me? I’ll dance for you, how about giving me that fish for free?”
Saying this, he did a slide step on the slippery aisle, ready to perform his signature song, “Love Like Fire.”
The man’s knife froze mid-swing.
He gave Lin Ouyang a once-over, looking at him like he was an idiot.
“Dance? Young man, I’m busy here! Don’t block the way! Go dance in the square ahead; there are more people there!”
Lin Ouyang’s dance move froze in midair, his smile slowly fading.
On the other side, Zhao Kuo Tai wasn’t faring much better.
She stood in front of a lobster stall, untying her Hermès scarf from around her neck.
“Proprietress, I bought this scarf for over five thousand. Trade it for two of your Australian lobsters, and you’re getting the better deal.” Zhao Kuo Tai felt like she was doing charity.
The aunty selling lobsters glanced at the flashy piece of cloth. “Five thousand? I have one too, nine ninety-nine with free shipping on Pinxixi.”
“Little sister, if you want free food, just say so. Passing off fakes is just not right.”
Zhao Kuo Tai trembled with rage, nearly needing an oxygen tank on the spot.
Just as everyone was hitting dead ends, Jiang Ci moved.
He pulled that battered straw hat down a little lower, revealing a sunburned nape.
At this moment, he was just a filial son who had come out of the mountains, short on cash but wanting to improve his family’s meals.
Huang Jiahui was strolling nearby. Seeing this, his footsteps paused.
The veteran actor’s radar went off.
This kid, he’s starting to act again.
Huang Jiahui’s eyes darted. He rolled up his tank top a bit, revealing a sliver of his lean belly.
His mouth twisted, and his gaze turned murky and vacant.
He tremblingly reached out and grabbed the hem of Jiang Ci’s clothes.
“Grandson… Grandpa is hungry…”
Jiang Ci turned back, giving Huang Jiahui a look that said, “Your addiction to acting is really something,” then seamlessly fell back into character.
He supported Huang Jiahui, his eyes reddening, voice hoarse. “Grandpa, we’re buying food now. Just hold on a little longer.”
The two of them, supporting each other, walked over to a stall run by the meanest-looking aunty.
The stall was piled high with live tiger prawns.
The aunty was swinging a fly swatter, her face full of menace. “Buying or not? If not, don’t touch!”
Jiang Ci didn’t speak.
He just stared silently at those prawns.
That look was far too complex.
He reached out, as if to touch the prawns, then pulled back.
He fumbled in his pockets for a long time.
In the end, he only pulled out a crumpled one-yuan bill and two coins.
He counted once. Then he counted again.
The aunty’s fly swatter froze in midair.
Right on cue, Huang Jiahui coughed twice, a wrenching, chest-tearing cough. “Grandson… Grandpa wants to eat those shelled bugs…”
Jiang Ci sniffled, then held out that one yuan and twenty cents.
“Auntie… Can this buy one? Just one, for my grandpa to taste the flavor.”
The aunty was stunned.
She looked at this handsome young man with a bitter face, then at the old man who looked like he was on his last legs.
A motherly instinct awakened deep in her heart!
“Such a sin!”
The aunty threw down the fly swatter and directly grabbed the largest plastic bag.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
She didn’t even weigh them; she just scooped prawns straight into the bag, grabbing only the biggest ones.
“Take it!”
The aunty pushed the one yuan and twenty cents back and forcibly shoved the heavy bag into Jiang Ci’s arms.
“Auntie is giving these to you! Take that money back and buy your grandpa a flatbread! Such a handsome young man, how did you end up living so miserably!”
Jiang Ci hugged the prawns, his tears threatening to fall. “This… this won’t do…”
“Take them! Stop dawdling!” The aunty’s eyes were reddening. “Come back often! Auntie doesn’t have much else here, but there’s always enough shrimp!”
Not until they were ten meters away did Huang Jiahui straighten his back, his gaze clearing once more.
“Not bad, kid.” Huang Jiahui patted Jiang Ci on the shoulder, eyeing the bag of tiger prawns that weighed at least two pounds.
Jiang Ci wiped away the non-existent tears, flashing a cheeky grin. “That’s because you, sir, cooperated perfectly. That cough earlier was absolutely brilliant!”
The live stream’s bullet comments had gone wild:
[I’m reporting them! These two are using cheats!]
[Is this the legendary top-tier fraud? Auntie’s heartbreak value +10086!]
[Jiang Ci using his acting skills to buy groceries is basically a dimensional reduction strike! So shameless! But I love it!]
On the other side, Chu Hong’s turf was equally spectacular.
She didn’t need acting.
She was the queen of the vegetable market.
“This eggplant is still five yuan? Old Wang next door is selling it for three fifty! Look at yours, it’s all wilted. It’ll just soak up oil if you make eggplant boxes with it!”
“This fish’s eyes are already cloudy. Even if you gave it to me for free, I’d have to think about whether it’s worth the scallion I’d need to cook it!”
Wherever Chu Hong passed, she left devastation in her wake.
The stall owners were routed by her haggling, eventually not only lowering prices but also throwing in a bunch of cilantro, two scallions, and even half a winter melon.
Zhao Kuo Tai followed behind Chu Hong, holding the “spoils of war”—two large scallions.
Watching Chu Hong command like a general, she actually felt a glimmer of admiration.
“See?”
Chu Hong turned back, shoving a freshly haggled head of cabbage into Zhao Kuo Tai’s arms.
“If you want something, you have to speak up.” Chu Hong pointed at a stall selling clams ahead. “Go on, that one’s yours.”
Zhao Kuo Tai stood in front of the clam stall, clutching the cabbage.
In her entire life, she had only ever called out bids at auctions, never spoken a word in a vegetable market.
“This… this…” Zhao Kuo Tai’s voice was as thin as a mosquito’s.
The stall owner, a bald man, impatiently waved his hand. “Speak up! Didn’t you eat breakfast?”
That shout ignited Zhao Kuo Tai’s temper.
She had gone hungry all night, suffered all day today, and now she had to be looked down upon by a clam seller?
“I said! How much for these clams!” Zhao Kuo Tai suddenly exploded, her voice shooting up an octave, startling Lin Ouyang beside her.
The stall owner was taken aback. “Fifteen for two pounds.”
“Ten bucks for three pounds! Deal or not!”
The stall owner was intimidated by the sudden burst of force.
“Fine, fine, fine! Take them, take them! Running into a tigress…”
Zhao Kuo Tai stood frozen in place, holding the heavy bag of clams.
She stared at the bag of still-spraying shellfish, her heart pounding violently.
That feeling of satisfaction was even more intense than swiping her card at the Hermès boutique.
This was something she had earned with her own skill.
“Well done.” Chu Hong walked over, patting Zhao Kuo Tai’s mud-splattered back approvingly. “Little sister, you’ve got potential.”
Zhao Kuo Tai flicked her disheveled hair, unable to suppress the smile on her lips. “Of course. Don’t you know who I am?”
As the sun set.
The bus started up again.
Unlike the gloomy atmosphere on the way there, this time the carriage was stuffed with all kinds of ingredients.
Jiang Ci’s little cart was the most extravagant.
Besides the bag of swindled shrimp, there were beers and fruits gifted by the vendors.
And a live chicken that someone had inexplicably stuffed in, poking its head out of the bag, curiously sizing up Lin Ouyang.
Director Wu Tong sat in the passenger seat, staring at the carriage full of spoils, completely shell-shocked.
The script he had designed was “Star’s Survival Challenge,” but this group had stubbornly turned it into “A Bite of the Vegetable Market.”
“Jiang Ci.”
Huang Jiahui was sitting in the back row, peeling a tangerine, when he suddenly spoke.
“Teacher Huang?” Jiang Ci turned around.
Huang Jiahui handed him half the tangerine, his gaze calm. “That act today, well done.”
“You flatter me.”
“I’m not flattering.” Huang Jiahui looked out the window at the retreating coconut groves, his tone even.
“Young people nowadays act like they’re floating in the sky. They think playing a domineering CEO or an immortal is what acting is all about.”
He turned his head, fixing his eyes on Jiang Ci.
“It’s no big deal to play an emperor or a general. The real skill is being able to squat on the ground, stomp your dignity into the mud for two prawns, and still make people believe it.”
“Life is full of drama. Catch it, and you’re a lead actor.”
Jiang Ci took the tangerine and nodded solemnly.
Given the antics of the two big shots, the Director’s Team secretly went back to pay the bill.
That was also what Jiang Ci and the other guy had intended.
Back at the villa, night fell.
For dinner, two large woks were set up in the courtyard.
Chu Hong was in charge of cooking, and Zhao Kuo Tai actually volunteered to peel garlic—although the cloves were mangled, no one laughed at her.
Lin Ouyang also dropped the act. He rolled up his sleeves and squatted by the sink to clean the fish, getting slapped in the face by a fish tail, which caused a roar of laughter from everyone.
Jiang Ci made Beggar’s Chicken with the chicken they had swindled. When the mud shell was cracked open, the aroma could travel for miles.
They didn’t keep the bag of tiger prawns to themselves. Instead, they boiled them plain and placed the dish in the very center of the table.
“Come on! Cheers!”
Huang Jiahui raised his stainless steel cup filled with beer.
“To… this damn broke-ass life!” Zhao Kuo Tai raised her cup, clinking it boldly.
Froth splashed everywhere.
They all sat together, their faces reflecting the red glow of the stove fire.
There were no stars, no wealthy wives. Just a group of comrades-in-arms fighting side-by-side to fill their stomachs.
Jiang Ci bit into a chicken leg, looking at his mother beside him, who was teaching Zhao Kuo Tai the “Thirty-Six Strategies of Haggling.”
That feeling he called “home” became crystal clear.
This was probably why Ms. Chu insisted on joining the show.
To drag her son, who was floating in the sky, back down to this burning-hot mortal world.