After Binding the Face-Slapping System, I Rose to Fame [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 12

On Day 3 of Survival, the contestants had finally begun to adapt to their primitive lifestyles.

Lin Shuyu, relying on pre-set bait, successfully hunted a muntjac—enough meat to last three days. Meanwhile, Chu Jinzhi continued her streak of “failing upward.” Just as Lin Shuyu made her kill, Chu Jinzhi managed to bag a wild chicken with her DIY bow and arrow.

The term “bagged” was used loosely. In truth, the chicken was simply incredibly unlucky. Chu Jinzhi’s arrow had wobbled through the air, landing several meters away from the target. However, the chicken was so startled by the commotion that it panicked, bolted blindly, and dove headfirst into a snare trap Chu Jinzhi had already given up on.

Netizens jokingly dubbed her hunting style: “Scare the chicken with a fake bow until it’s so confused it traps itself.”

Disheveled and with mud streaked across her face, Chu Jinzhi gleefully declared herself the “Strongest Survivalist on the Island.”

【LOL I’m dying, she’s a born comedian!】

【Right on, Red Rose! You’re definitely the strongest. With luck like that, it’s harder to starve than to survive [doge].】

【What do I do? I came here with a basket full of insults ready to flame her out of the industry for polluting the internet, but now I find ‘Muddy Chu Red Rose’ so pure and unpretentious [crying at the sky].】

【Sister, stop struggling. Let’s just sink into the abyss of Chu Red Rose’s demonic memes together [smirk].】

【Hah, join the club!】

【Exactly, who isn’t?】

The comments section descended into a chaotic celebration of her new persona. Some noted that her previous lack of popularity was simply because she hadn’t found her niche. She was a natural-born variety star.

Newer viewers, unfamiliar with Chu Jinzhi’s debut as a “campus goddess” in idol dramas, began asking about the inside jokes involving names like “Zheng Meili” and “Zheng Cuihua.” The comment section quickly turned into a playground of “Goddess” memes.

【Good lord, is this a kindergarten? Did I walk into the wrong room? I thought I was here to see a national ‘Red Rose’ fall from grace into a village comedian?】

【Bro, you’re in the right place!】

【I can’t breathe ‘Gossip Fans’? More like ‘Heartbreak Powder’ LOL.】

On the Production Boat

In the director’s room, the staff were also struggling to contain their laughter at the bullet chat.

The Assistant Director remarked, “This Chu Jinzhi really has a knack for variety. Usually, solo survival is the most boring part—viewers lose interest quickly. But her room is the liveliest one we’ve got.”

While Lin Shuyu, Tong Zixuan, and Cao Xu had the highest raw viewership numbers, their chats were far less vibrant. Their fans mostly posted repetitive, harmonious “daily support” messages. While peaceful, it wasn’t particularly “sticky” or attractive to casual passersby.

In modern society, life is stressful. Most people don’t have the energy to deeply “stan” a celebrity; they just want a show that provides quick, easy laughs.

Director Chen nodded in agreement. “In just two days, Chu Jinzhi’s room has generated several viral memes. It looks like she’s actually going to have a comeback.”

The Assistant Director couldn’t hide a hint of pride. “So, should we make her a permanent cast member?” He had been one of the people who voted to invite her. At the time, he wasn’t sure why he did it, but now he felt it was his veteran instincts leading him to a goldmine. If she blew up, she’d owe him a favor.

Director Chen glanced at him and smiled. “Let’s see if she can survive the full seven days first.”

The Assistant Director understood immediately. He suggested the PR team double down on the viral memes to push the show higher on the trending searches.

The mood shifted, however, when Director Chen looked at Hou Mi’s livestream. Like Chu Jinzhi, he was surviving solo, but his numbers were dismal.

While Chu Jinzhi was a “professional amateur” who constantly messed up and inadvertently fueled the “Red vs. White Rose” rivalry with Lin Shuyu, Hou Mi was trying too hard to be a “pro.”

The problem was that Hou Mi was an action star—a martial artist, perhaps, but a total novice at actual wilderness survival. He was pushing in the wrong direction. Worse, he seemed blinded by the prize of an S-Rank film contract, forgetting that he was filming a variety show.

No matter how much a show chases “realism” or “thrills,” its foundation is entertainment. No one wants to watch a grown man crawl through a swamp for an entire day just for a chance to hunt a boar especially if he fails and goes back to a leaky shack to sleep on an empty stomach.

For a general audience already beaten down by the frustrations of real life, watching someone else fail miserably isn’t “gritty”—it’s just depressing.

As a result, the veteran action star’s rankings were bottoming out. His chat was nearly empty, populated only by a few die-hard fans trying to offer encouragement—an effort Director Chen predicted wouldn’t last much longer.

During the recording period, there was typically no interaction between the guests and the audience.

How long could one-sided cheering really last?

Evidently, Hou Mi’s agent had also noticed this downward trend. Thus, after the day’s livestream ended, the agent contacted the production team and used various channels of influence to persuade them. Eventually, the team agreed to add a temporary interactive segment between the guests and the audience.

Before the interaction began, each guest was granted a brief window to speak with their respective agents.

Aside from Chu Jinzhi and her manager, nearly everyone took this opportunity incredibly seriously, beginning their preparations well in advance.

When the executive director went to notify Chu Jinzhi, she was still gnawing on that wild pheasant which had only become tougher after roasting. Her face was smeared with oil, and her jaw was beginning to ache from the effort.

With a noncommittal grunt, Chu Jinzhi continued to contemplate the meaning of life over her roasted chicken.

Wuxia dramas are all lies, she thought. Roasted wild pheasant tastes absolutely terrible!

Wild pheasants were naturally all bone and very little meat; once hit by the fire, the skin and flesh simply shriveled onto the skeletal frame.

Forget it, I’ll just stew it.

Using a coconut shell filled with water, Chu Jinzhi began stewing the chicken. She kept at it until nightfall. It was then that she received a call from her agent, Sister Lin.

Chu Jinzhi: “…” My jaw hurts, my teeth hurt; I don’t want to talk.

Sister Lin: “…” For a moment, I don’t even know what to say.

The two shared a moment of speechless silence before Sister Lin finally cleared her throat. “What are you doing right now?”

Chu Jinzhi glanced at the pheasant, which was still nowhere near tender. She picked up a wild fruit to munch on instead. “Stewing chicken.”

Sister Lin had watched the daytime livestream and knew exactly where that poor pheasant had come from. After another bout of speechless exasperation, she finally got down to business. “That ‘Most Beautiful Sticking-Plaster’ plan your anti-fans cooked up seems to be working well for now, but you need to know when to stop. Once the first episode wraps up, we’ll release some press materials. It’s best if you stop associating yourself with Lin Shuyu, otherwise, you’ll be stuck as her ‘foil’ forever.”

Chu Jinzhi replied with boundless confidence, “What’s wrong with being the foil? Even as a foil, I’m definitely better than her. Didn’t you say the plan was getting a great response?”

Sister Lin: “Where did you wholesale all this confidence from? You have so much of it, can you sell me some?”

Chu Jinzhi: “With our relationship, why talk about money? I’ll just give you half for free.”

Sister Lin sighed. “In any case, Lin Shuyu isn’t that simple. If you’re truly dead set on outshining her, you’re the one who’s going to end up looking foolish.”

Chu Jinzhi knew this, of course, but she couldn’t resist teasing her manager. “Really? I don’t believe it. I mean, other than not being a ‘world-class beauty’ yet, in what way am I inferior to her?”

Sister Lin felt weary. “Baby, be good. Say that sentence again, but reverse it.”

Chu Jinzhi burst into laughter. “Hehe, I refuse!”

Hearing her laugh, Sister Lin stopped pushing the professional agenda. She jokingly scolded her as a “rebellious child” and reminded her not to go too overboard during tomorrow’s scheduled interaction.

It seemed Sister Lin had realized that expecting Chu Jinzhi not to cause trouble was an impossible dream.

That night, because Lin Shuyu had successfully hunted a musk deer during the day, Chu Jinzhi didn’t need to deliver any supplies. She went to bed early.

In the other two camps, however, things were different.

Even Lin Shuyu couldn’t help but lose herself in thought before bed. The others tossed and turned until late into the night before finally drifting into a fitful sleep.

A single phone call to the outside world seemed poised to shatter the current, fleeting peace.