Chapter 134: Therefore, One Must Forge Their Own Strength

The next day, Bai Lu, still battling a sleep-deprived haze, stumbled along behind the group, dazed and exhausted. After a grueling mix of subways, buses, and endless walking, they finally managed to check off all the designated landmarks.

Her mind was a complete blur throughout the ordeal, barely distinguishable from a walking corpse.

Despite the fog in her head, she couldn’t help but curse Shen Xinluo and Liu Jiajia silently. Those two had chatted until well past two in the morning, then fallen asleep immediately, while her ears still buzzed incessantly all night. She had hardly closed her eyes.

Truly, a masterclass in sabotage.

Di Jiaer announced, “With the mission complete, we are now free to roam—”

Before he could finish, the production team chimed in, “Hidden mission activated! Excited? Surprised?”

If it weren’t for Zu Xinen’s quick reflex to grab Lin Ye’s shoulder, Lin Ye would have lunged at the production team on the spot.

Lin Ye snapped, “We barely finished the mission with all our effort, and you only tell us there’s a hidden mission now? Are you deliberately making things difficult?”

The production team was just as distressed. Their budget had already been slashed by a third, yet the group managed to finish early.

After some thought, they pinned the blame on Di Jiaer. His intimate knowledge of Seoul—down to which streets had rats—had been their undoing.

It was infuriating.

With a day and a half left for “free activities,” what was the point? Where was the entertainment?

In the end, they decided to artificially manufacture challenges—hidden missions to keep the show engaging.

Bai Lu, feeling utterly drained, leaned against a lamppost, a cold smile curling in her heart.

She had known all along the production team had been scheming behind the scenes last night.

Lin Ye was still haggling with the production team in his usual brash manner.

Bai Lu, resting against the lamppost, said with a smile, “Director, if we accept the hidden mission, is there any benefit? If not, can we choose to opt out?”

Before the production team could reply, she added sweetly, “You set the rules and act as referees—that’s hardly fair. No benefits, and I’ll just quit the performance, okay?”

Lin Ye echoed, “Right, we quit!”

Zu Xinen and Li Huan quietly nodded in agreement.

The production team was momentarily speechless.

The producers huddled together, whispering.

Three minutes later, the director announced, “Complete the hidden mission, and we’ll provide free accommodation for the next episode.”

No need to spend on hotels—saving money meant better meals and the possibility to rent cars, no more exhausting walks.

The guests readily agreed.

The production team unveiled the hidden mission, which was surprisingly simple.

Or rather, the mission was tailored exactly to the remaining budget after deducting food, lodging, and transport costs.

Clearly, the production team had no intention to make things difficult or torment the guests for entertainment’s sake. They simply wanted to add a bit more challenge to create show highlights.

Bai Lu, however, disagreed.

Tasks like these were mechanical and monotonous; essentially, they just sent guests from one landmark to another for check-ins.

Tedious and repetitive.

Leveling up by fighting monsters repeatedly—what was so entertaining about that?

Anyone who’s played games knows that open-world maps are far more engaging. Constantly grinding gets dull and tiresome quickly.

If she were the director, she wouldn’t impose tasks. She’d let the guests decide how to spend the budget—wherever they wanted to go, they could go.

An unpredictable journey, full of surprises—that’s far more captivating than mechanical missions.

Neither the guests nor the audience would know what to expect, and the thrill of the unknown would entice viewers.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the director. So, with a foggy head, she trailed behind the group again, marking off landmarks.

Bai Lu was listless, completely drained and too sleepy even to banter with Lin Ye. She quietly followed the team.

Viewers in the live stream began to worry about her.

“These trolls have scared Bai Lu into silence on the show!”

“No, no, she doesn’t seem unwilling to interact. She looks sick.”

“She’s definitely sick! Check the fan forum—some fans saw them at a restaurant, and Bai Lu secretly asked the waiter for hot water to mix cold medicine!”

“That poor girl never says anything! If she did, everyone would surely sympathize and refuse the hidden mission!”

“Do you think she dares? Look at how harshly she’s been criticized. If she spoke up, she’d get attacked again. Remember how Shen Xinluo wore heels in the first episode and was in pain? The backlash was brutal.”

“Yeah, yeah, here you go playing the victim again. She’s sick and keeps quiet just to avoid criticism. So it’s the netizens’ fault?”

“I’m pretty sure the ones blaming Shen Xinluo for holding the team back were your fans, right? Now you’re blaming the netizens? No thanks.”

As the guests prepared to take the subway back to the bathhouse, Yu Xing Entertainment posted a message on Weibo.

—@Yu Xing Entertainment: The circle is small, and it’s easy to find out. The circle is large, and everyone keeps to themselves.

At the same time, a screenshot began circulating online.

It displayed hundreds of user IDs densely packed together, all sharing IP addresses from the same location.

Where the screenshot originated remained unknown, but within moments it flooded the entire internet, shared widely by marketing accounts.

It was easy to guess that Yu Xing Entertainment had leaked it. As the official account, they couldn’t afford to do such a thing directly—it would be too risky.

So, they likely paid marketing accounts to spread the screenshot.

Netizens quickly caught on.

Damn!

Someone was deliberately targeting Bai Lu!

Their tactics were insidious—fake victim fans, instigators, mindless trolls... Were they all working together?

A true game of espionage, layers upon layers.

Bai Lu’s reputation reversed instantly.

Yet both netizens and fans were puzzled—who were these people? What grudge could they possibly hold against Bai Lu to go to such lengths?

Naturally, suspicion fell on Liu Nana.

Only someone who loathed Bai Lu that much would set such a vicious trap.

She was the prime suspect.

Yu Xing Entertainment had cultivated numerous fan accounts for their artists—highly influential voices within the fandom.

Lai Jian had already instructed these accounts to step down and urged fans not to focus on who was behind the attacks.

What was the point of finding out?

As long as Bai Lu remained in this industry, such incidents would keep recurring.

Rather than speculate about the perpetrator, it was better to consider how to prevent these things altogether.

If this happened to Lu Yiting or Ting Xiangxue, such petty tricks wouldn’t work at all.

Everyone knew Ting Xiangxue was the most composed and reasonable—any obvious smear attempts would be dismissed outright.

So, the key was to be unassailable.

As long as one performed well enough, no one could sully their reputation.