Chapter 86: The Expected Failure

“No, how could this happen?” Bai Mengqing was at a loss, her face instantly flushed a deep red. “Did you explain it to Auntie?”

“What was there to explain? You know, the more you explain, the worse it gets. I just said you’re a classmate, that Officer Yi accidentally hit you and now you need to be hospitalized. As for the rest, she can just ask her son when she gets home.”

The two of them ended up discussing at what age it’s appropriate to date and get married for quite a while. By eight-thirty, the chubby boy was getting sleepy, and Chen Xin finally picked up Zhang Zhang to take him home.

That night, the hospital arranged for a caregiver to look after Bai Mengqing, mainly to help her get out of bed and use the bathroom. The cost of the caregiver was covered by the Bai family; they weren’t the sort to make unreasonable demands. Although Yi Bai was at fault for hitting Bai Mengqing, her serious condition was also due to her own underlying health issues, so it couldn’t all be blamed on him. After accepting a one-time compensation for the hospitalization from Yi Bai, the Bai family firmly refused to take any more money. They just hoped that while their daughter was in the hospital, Officer Yi could drop by to check on her once in a while.

If it hadn’t been for what they’d learned about Bai Mengqing’s condition from Chen Xin, Zhou Hao and Yi Bai would have thought that the Bai family had taken a liking to Yi Bai and wanted him as a son-in-law.

But after a couple of interactions, Yi Bai found that although Bai Mengqing was ill, she remained cheerful and open-hearted. He became quite concerned about her mental state and each time he visited, he would chat with her for a long while, telling her stories about his colleagues or other cases they’d handled—always positive tales, hoping she would find her way out of the darkness.

In fact, Bai Mengqing herself knew that something was wrong, but mental illness is a tricky thing; it’s not as simple as knowing you should change and then being able to do it. Many people who suffer from such conditions simply can’t control themselves. Bai Mengqing was the same—she knew shutting herself off was wrong, but she just didn’t want to communicate, didn’t want to know about the outside world, didn’t want anything at all.

Fortunately, she had a good friend.

Chen Xin was never short of patience and attentiveness. And then there was Zhang Zhang, who, not understanding what it meant to be mentally ill, simply thought Aunt Bai was feeling down after getting hurt. So every day, he would bring storybooks to share with her, hoping to cheer her up.

With the company of Chen Xin and Zhang Zhang, Bai Mengqing’s condition improved. Since she hadn’t been seriously ill to begin with, her latest assessment by the psychiatrist showed improvement. They hoped she would continue treatment and make an effort to go out more and interact with people.

By the time the doctor declared Bai Mengqing ready for discharge, nearly a month had passed. Her fracture was minor, and since she was young, the doctor had recommended letting it heal naturally without pins or hardware.

During that month, Yi Bai’s visits became much less frequent. He was genuinely busy—year-end meant wrapping up old cases, preventing new ones, and sometimes he and his colleagues would spend twenty hours a day in the car, barely finding time for a hot meal. Instant noodles and bread had become their feast.

Zhou Hao was also busy; the military had even more to handle at the year’s end—discharge arrangements, transfers, and all sorts of tasks needed his attention. He also had to accompany senior officers on goodwill visits to military families and support organizations, which was a demanding and exhausting job.

Even Chen Xin was swamped.

An article Chen Xin had posted on her blog had gone viral. The food photos were mouthwatering, and the stories behind the dishes were authentic and moving. Some readers had followed her recommendations and verified them, confirming they were genuine. They posted their own photos on the blog and in chatrooms, drawing even more attention to the local delicacies, and sparking curiosity about whether Grandpa Qian’s son had returned.

A spontaneous campaign to help Grandpa Qian find his son had thus moved from the internet into the real world.

Chen Xin had her hands full with the café, finalizing her graduation project and thesis defense with her professor, and answering countless questions from netizens. She was stretched impossibly thin.

Most importantly, Lü Yimeng had finally persuaded the TV station’s higher-ups to produce a special program before the New Year—about four episodes, airing weekly, just to test the waters.

Though the show was four episodes, filming was done in two days. With no prior experience, the first day’s shoot was awkward and clumsy, but the second day went much better.

As expected, Chen Xin didn’t appear on the program, though she was given a nominal consultant role, with standard pay—nothing special. Song Yi, however, after working some connections with his older brother, succeeded in getting on the show and managed to steal the spotlight from the female host.

“You have no idea, that female host is a real piece of work. We told her this was a show about everyday life, but she insisted on acting like she was reading the evening news—so stiff and proper, I felt embarrassed for her,” Song Yi complained after filming, dropping by the hospital to chat with Chen Xin and Bai Mengqing.

“She even criticized me for being too dramatic! My god, does she expect me to measure every ingredient precisely when I cook? Should I use a measuring cup for everything? Was she raised on spring water and air? Even the audience started making fun of her, but she stuck to her guns, saying that even though it’s a food show, it should be more rigorous or people would question its credibility.”

Bai Mengqing had never been on a program or seen a live shoot, so she didn’t know much about these things. But even someone like her, who had never so much as touched a kitchen knife, knew no one actually measures everything so strictly in home cooking. Most of the time, it’s just “add as needed.” Whether the food tastes good depends entirely on experience gained through practice.

“So what happened in the end? Did the female host change?” Bai Mengqing asked.

“What do you think? She’s got powerful backers, so of course she stayed. But I think even her supporters warned her to just focus on hosting and let others handle the rest,” Song Yi said with a sigh, swearing he’d never do another show like that. If he had to deal with someone so clueless again, he feared he wouldn’t be able to hold back his temper.

Song Yi had always struck people as a carefree young man who loved good food and a good life. When it came out that he was the rich second son of a family with plenty of money, no one treated him any differently—they got along just as they always had. That was one of the reasons Song Yi chose to stay; he felt comfortable and at ease.

“I’m telling you, I think this show is doomed,” Song Yi predicted, unimpressed by the production team. “People watch these shows for fun and relaxation. If you present a food show like a news broadcast, who’s going to want to watch? I know I wouldn’t.”

As it turned out, Song Yi’s complaint was right on target. The first broadcast in December went over very poorly; everyone familiar with the show found it painfully awkward, to say nothing of the general public. According to a call from Lü Yimeng, someone had even written to the TV station, asking them to replace the host. They said what should have been a pleasant mix of cooking and storytelling was instantly ruined by the female host, who made viewers want to switch the channel the moment she started speaking.

Lü Yimeng knew the whole thing was basically a flop, but at least it was a learning experience. In terms of planning and production, the team hadn’t made any major mistakes; the biggest problem was the well-connected female host, who was a disaster. If the show was graded out of ten, the planners and directors deserved seven points, while the female host was worth negative seven!