At dusk, the light in the forest gradually dimmed, the twilight spreading like ink, leaving only the faintest trace of daylight at the treetops. The chirping of birds faded, and only the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze grew clearer in the stillness.
The guests at each campsite were busy preparing dinner, creating a scene of bustling activity. The Blue Team, Chen Yu and Su Qing, had fairly good luck—their bird trap had caught two wild birds. The two of them crouched by the fire, handling the prey. Su Qing cleaned the innards efficiently, while Chen Yu covered his nose, his face full of disgust at the smell.
At the Purple Team’s campsite, Sun Xiaoya crouched by the stream, gripping her fishing gear as she repeatedly cast and reeled in the line. After a long time, she caught nothing and could only cling to Li Haoran pitifully, acting spoiled. The fishing net by the bank remained completely empty.
The Orange Team, Liu Yue and Wang Hao, had picked half a bag of unknown wild fruits. They examined the fruits over and over but didn’t dare eat them, afraid of being poisoned.
At the Red Team’s campsite, Lin Weiwei watched Zhao Lei fail to start a fire three times in a row. The sparks barely appeared before being blown out by the wind. She was already irritated inside, yet her face still carried a gentle smile as she lightly patted his arm.
“Brother Zhao Lei, take it slow. Don’t rush—you’ll get it eventually.”
She didn’t actually care whether they could start a fire or have food—she was certain the production team would never let the guests truly starve. Sooner or later, there would be an “unexpected” supply drop. What she truly cared about was how to create more trouble for Zhou Mumu, how to steer public opinion in an even worse direction.
Lin Weiwei leaned closer as if unintentionally, lowering her voice. A perfectly measured concern flickered in her eyes.
“Brother Zhao Lei, don’t you think… Mumu didn’t need to come to this kind of wilderness show? I heard from people in the company that she was in a car accident not long ago and was quite seriously injured…”
Zhao Lei was blowing on the firewood pile, trying to spark a flame. Hearing this, he responded casually, “Probably arranged by her company? Her reputation’s been terrible lately. She’s probably here to clean up her image.”
“But…” Lin Weiwei lowered her voice even further, her brows slightly furrowed, her concern deepening. “I’m really worried about her. Coming to survive in such a harsh place while injured—wouldn’t that be bad for her body? What if her old injuries flare up?”
Her words sounded like concern, but they were filled with hidden implications—if she could still perform so smoothly while injured, then either the injury was fake, or something else was going on. The livestream chat instantly exploded with speculation:
【Wait, Zhou Mumu was in a car accident? And she came here injured?】【That’s suspicious! If she was badly hurt, how can she move so efficiently?】【So she got onto this high-profile show because of backing? Working while injured just to fix her image?】【What if the accident was fake too? A classic sympathy trick!】
Zhao Lei suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked up in surprise. “Really? She was in a car accident?”
“I only heard it in passing. It might not even be true…” Lin Weiwei waved her hands quickly, appearing innocent and afraid of spreading rumors. But her tone suddenly shifted. “But come to think of it, Mumu performed way too well today. She doesn’t look injured at all. Do you think… maybe her injuries weren’t that serious, and she exaggerated them to gain sympathy?”
Every word was wrapped in the guise of “concern,” yet each sentence guided suspicion like needles aimed at Zhou Mumu. Zhao Lei frowned and looked toward the Yellow Team’s campsite in the distance, his eyes now filled with scrutiny and doubt.
At the Yellow Team’s campsite, Zhou Chaochao had already started a fire. She used dry moss as tinder, struck the fire starter lightly, and the sparks landed precisely on the moss. With a gentle breath following the wind, the flames instantly rose. The entire process took less than a minute, her movements so practiced it was as if she had done it thousands of times.
The flickering firelight illuminated her profile—sharp lines, calm and focused expression. Holding an entrenching shovel, she bent down to handle several branches of moderate thickness. With precise movements, she shaved off the smaller twigs and sharpened one end into a point, quickly forming the shape of a wooden spear.
Zheng Kai hurried back carrying a bundle of firewood. As he passed a large, lush tree, he subconsciously stopped to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
The next second, a faint rustling sound came from above. Before he could react, a snake as thick as a forearm—a white-lipped pit viper—slid down from the branches and landed directly on his shoulder, coiling around his right arm!
The green snake’s body was icy cold. Its triangular head lifted slightly, its tongue flicking rapidly as its venomous fangs glinted coldly, staring straight at Zheng Kai’s neck. His entire body froze instantly, as if his blood had solidified. He didn’t dare breathe loudly, his legs trembling yet unable to move even half a step. He didn’t dare scream either—there was only one thought in his mind: Don’t move. If I move, it will bite me!
His face turned deathly pale, his lips trembling. Cold sweat streamed down his face, soaking his collar. His eyes were wide open, fixed on the venomous snake coiled around his arm. He didn’t even dare blink.
The scene was captured clearly by the camera. The livestream erupted again, comments flooding the screen too quickly to read:
【This is insane! That’s a white-lipped pit viper—it’s highly venomous!】【Zheng Kai doesn’t dare move at all—his face is white as a sheet!】【Help! The snake is about to bite his neck!】【Production team, do something! Someone could die!】【Where is Zhou Mumu? Hurry and save him!】
At the campsite, Zhou Chaochao heard the commotion. She looked up and immediately understood the situation. Her eyes sharpened, and the entrenching shovel in her hand fell to the ground with a clang as she rushed over almost instinctively.
Her movements were extremely fast. In just a few steps, she reached Zheng Kai. Without hesitation, she pressed down firmly on his stiff right arm with her left hand to prevent him from moving and alarming the snake. At the same time, her right hand moved so quickly it was almost invisible, precisely grabbing the snake at its vital point!
The snake struggled violently, its tail thrashing as it tried to break free, but Zhou Chaochao held it firmly, leaving it no chance to escape. Her grip was steady, her eyes frighteningly calm, without a trace of panic. She maintained her hold on its vital point while using her other hand to grab its body and yank it off Zheng Kai’s arm in one swift motion.
Only when the cold sensation disappeared did Zheng Kai finally react. His legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed to the ground, gasping heavily. Still shaken, he looked at Zhou Chaochao, his voice trembling.
“Th-thank you…”
Zhou Chaochao didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the snake in her hand. After confirming it could no longer harm anyone, she flung it far into the depths of the dense forest. She had spared its life, resolving the crisis without violating ecological principles.
Only then did she turn to Zheng Kai, who was still trembling. Her tone remained calm, with a hint of instruction.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s venomous, but since it didn’t bite you, you’re fine. Stay away from dense foliage in the future—snakes are most active in late summer.”
Zheng Kai hadn’t fully recovered. He could only nod repeatedly. The way he looked at Zhou Chaochao had completely changed—there was no longer resistance or doubt, only lingering fear and genuine admiration. Just moments ago, he had thought he was going to die. But her barehanded capture of the snake had steadied his panicked mind like a talisman.
The livestream comments completely reversed, shifting from panic to shock and praise:
【This is insane! Zhou Mumu grabbed a venomous snake with her bare hands!】【That reaction speed! That precision! Who is she really?】【People said she was pretending—if this was acting, she’d be dead already!】【This is so cool! I’m stunned!】【Zheng Kai was terrified—thank goodness she reacted in time!】【She’s definitely not simple—this isn’t something a normal celebrity can do!】
In the distance, Lin Weiwei watched everything unfold, her nails digging deeply into her palm, her expression dark and terrifying. Seeing Zhou Chaochao’s calm composure made the unease in her heart grow stronger. This Zhou Mumu… not only understands wilderness survival, but her skills are also this formidable. Just how much is she hiding?
But soon, a trace of ruthlessness flashed in her eyes. All the more reason to activate Plan B immediately. She cannot be allowed to stay.
After a long while, Zheng Kai finally found his voice. Looking at Zhou Chaochao’s back, he hesitated before asking, “Y-you… how did you dare to grab a venomous snake with your bare hands? Weren’t you afraid of being bitten?”
Zhou Chaochao bent down, picked up the entrenching shovel, and returned to the fire to continue shaping the wooden spear. Her tone was calm and steady.
“Fear is useless. The more you panic, the more likely something will go wrong. Grabbing a snake at its vital point is basic knowledge.”
She paused, then looked up at him, her gaze deep.
“If you’re really curious,” she cut him off gently. Her voice remained calm, yet carried an invisible pressure that made Zheng Kai’s heart jolt, “then think carefully about why someone everyone believes ‘knows nothing’ can be the first to find water, set up a tent skillfully, start a fire in under a minute… and catch a venomous snake with bare hands.”
She stood up, picked up a half-dried wooden spear, and weighed it lightly in her hand. It felt solid, sharp with potential.
“Sometimes, what you see isn’t necessarily the truth,” she said, looking directly at Zheng Kai, her tone meaningful. “And what you hear… even less so.”
After that, she didn’t look at him again. Holding the spear, she walked toward the stream, leaving Zheng Kai standing by the fire, his mind in complete turmoil. Her words echoed repeatedly in his heart, shaking everything he thought he knew.
By the stream, night had deepened, the water flowing softly. Zhou Chaochao crouched down slowly and looked at her reflection in the water—a face identical to her younger sister Zhou Mumu. Every feature was the same, yet the calmness, sharpness, and resilience in her eyes made it completely different, devoid of her sister’s former fragility.
Baby Mumu, I know all the grievances you’ve suffered.
These seven days… I will reclaim justice for you and make those who harmed you pay the price.
Holding the spear, she lightly touched the water. Ripples spread outward, shattering her reflection into fragments.
Just like the current public opinion. Like the illusions people believed—blurring the line between truth and disguise.
At the Red Team’s campsite, Lin Weiwei kept staring at Zhou Chaochao’s back. Watching her composed demeanor, she thought to herself: This Zhou Mumu… something is very wrong. She’s completely different from the soft, easily bullied person she used to be.
But she wasn’t afraid.
So what if Zhou Mumu knew wilderness survival? So what if she could catch snakes with her bare hands? Even if her presence had grown stronger, so what?
The entertainment industry had never been about ability.
It was about tactics, about manipulating people—about dragging your opponent into the mud and making sure they could never climb back out.
Lin Weiwei quietly stood up and walked to a secluded corner of the campsite. Her hand slipped into her clothing, pulling out a small backup phone—the production team had confiscated all communication devices, but they hadn’t found this one she had hidden so carefully.
The screen lit up. Her fingers typed quickly, her eyes cold and devoid of warmth:
Change of plan. Zhou Mumu is performing abnormally—far beyond expectations. She can even handle venomous snakes barehanded. Activate Plan B immediately—create an “accident” during the show to injure her and force her to withdraw. It must look natural. Leave no trace.
She pressed send. The recipient displayed clearly: “Wang Qiang.”
Lin Weiwei put the phone away and hid it again. She smoothed her hair and returned to the fire, her face once again wearing that flawless, sweet smile—as if the vicious person from moments ago had never existed.
Zhou Mumu, do you think coming to this show will let you turn things around? Do you think these little skills will win the audience’s approval?
I’ll make you understand—
Once you fall into the pit I’ve dug for you, you’ll never climb out again. You’ll only sink deeper… into eternal ruin.
The night grew darker, completely enveloping the forest. The sky was pitch black, without stars or moon. Only the campfires at each campsite flickered in the darkness, illuminating the ten guests’ vastly different expressions.
Some were satisfied.Some were confused.Some were anxious.And some harbored killing intent.
At the Yellow Team’s campsite, Zhou Chaochao sat by the fire, holding a whetstone as she slowly sharpened the blade of her entrenching shovel.
The scraping sound of metal against stone was crisp and rhythmic, especially clear in the silent night—like a silent declaration, or the prelude to a coming battle.
Seven days was a long time.
Long enough for buried truths to gradually surface and be revealed to the world.
Long enough for carefully layered disguises to be torn apart, exposing their ugliest cores.
Her sharpening paused. She lifted her gaze toward the Red Team’s campsite. Firelight flickered in her deep eyes like a silent flame, carrying an edge of inevitable determination.
The game had already begun.
Lin Weiwei.
Were you ready?