Episode 84: Recording Complete, Going Home!

In the next two or three days, everyone became busy. The students were making lanterns, painting on them, and preparing riddles—this task naturally fell to Su Yunjin, who was responsible for both the riddles and their answers.

After a day of preparation, the special Mid-Autumn Festival recording officially began!

To capture an atmosphere rich in ancient charm, the program team chose a remote mountain village as the filming location. The August weather in the mountains brought a refreshing coolness.

Early in the morning, everyone went to the martyrs’ cemetery. After paying their respects, the second activity was a boat ride on the lake. It wasn’t just about sitting in the boat; each boat engaged in a singing contest, exchanging mountain songs between teams. The winners received prizes.

The mentors, including Su Yunjin, hadn’t planned to participate, but with limited spaces on each boat, they couldn’t avoid joining in. Singing and playing as they went, they eventually reached a small pavilion at the center of the lake.

There, food had been prepared, but to receive each dish, one had to recite a poetic line about flowers—a simple game known as “Flying Flower Order.” One verse per person, and soon the table was filled with dishes. Paired with plum wine, everyone enjoyed an especially happy midday meal.

As night fell, lanterns were hung and riddles guessed; the prizes from earlier could now be exchanged, ranging from large to small, with food, drinks, and games. The Mid-Autumn Festival wouldn’t be complete without tangyuan and dumplings, so after the riddles, everyone gathered to cook and wrap them together.

To make the program more meaningful, the team also sent a gift to families with left-behind children.

Filming ended on the fourteenth of August. Those without further duties entered their holiday break.

“Yunjin, how do you plan to spend the fifteenth?”

The festival was approaching, and everyone was preparing to return home. Shao Xinghui and his friends discussed how to celebrate this Mid-Autumn Festival.

For most, the festival meant a chance to go home. But in the entertainment industry, Mid-Autumn was mostly a concept. If there were jobs, you couldn't go home; you had to finish the work and celebrate later, rushing back to work afterward.

Liang Feiyue was such a case. She had an appearance scheduled for the festival, needing to attend in the morning and return only in the evening.

Shao Xinghui also wanted to go home, but before that, he thought of Su Yunjin.

“I’ll spend it here.”

Since her fifth grandfather had arrived, Su Yunjin naturally planned to spend the festival with him.

Su Yunjin intended to be with her grandfather, but Shao Xinghui mistakenly thought she would be alone in the hotel.

“It must be lonely here once everyone leaves. Why don’t you come home with me? Our family doesn’t celebrate extravagantly, but at least you wouldn’t be alone. Xingyun said last time she wanted to play games with you—now you two can keep each other company,” Shao Xinghui suggested.

Su Yunjin understood his mistake and smiled, “You’ve misunderstood, Teacher Shao. My fifth grandfather is here. I’ll spend Mid-Autumn Festival with him, right here.”

“Oh, I see.”

A hint of disappointment flashed across Shao Xinghui’s face, but above all, he felt reassured.

Everyone’s plans settled, Su Yunjin returned to Jing Mountain District on the fifteenth.

Jing Mountain District was the upscale residential area of Qing City, where the Seven Sects owned a not-too-small villa. Before leaving the mountain, the elders had suggested she move in, but she always felt it was too conspicuous. If the paparazzi found out, it would bring unnecessary trouble. Thus, she’d followed the crowd and stayed in hotels.

But now, with her fifth grandfather here, she had no choice but to return to the villa.

Getting out of the car, Su Yunjin noticed the driver’s eyes filled with envy, and his speech was noticeably more flattering.

After paying, she entered Villa No. 22.

She pressed her fingerprint, and before she could lower the handle, the door swung open.

Standing inside was a woman in her sixties, about five feet tall, weighing around 130 pounds. Her face was kind, her hair jet-black, and though her figure had changed, she still exuded a scholarly aura.

Seeing Su Yunjin, her tiny bean-like eyes curved into slits of joy.

“Miss Yun is back!”

“Yes, Aunt Qiao, you’re here,” Su Yunjin greeted her politely.

Aunt Qiao was the usual caretaker of the villa, responsible for cleaning and cooking. Whenever the family stayed at the villa, Aunt Qiao would come to work; if not, she’d visit periodically to maintain it.

“I came the day I got Fifth Master’s call. This season, the bugs and ants are fierce, so I had to clean up in advance. I also prepared some vegetables and fruit, so Fifth Master wouldn’t arrive to find nothing to eat.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Aunt Qiao,” Su Yunjin said courteously.

Aunt Qiao waved her hand dismissively. “No need for thanks, Miss Yun. You’re being too formal. If you hadn’t helped back then, my ill-fated son’s injustice would never have been cleared.”

I have little to repay you with, so cooking and tidying up is my way of giving back. Besides, it’s not unpaid work—you all pay me, so my husband and I don’t have to worry about food.

These years, life has gotten better, my grandson attends school, and we can supplement his expenses and even save enough to run a small shop.

Talking about this, I can’t stop. You must be tired of hearing it every time, Miss Yun.”

Standing in the living room, Aunt Qiao turned to look at Su Yunjin.

She remembered meeting Su Yunjin ten years ago, when the girl was just a yellow-haired child. But even then, her aura was anything but small.

She still recalled—when her son died at a construction site, leaving behind a three-year-old child, she and her husband felt the sky had fallen.

After learning the details at the site, they sought justice. But the culprit was a big boss’s relative, well-connected and powerful. For two rural elders, seeking redress was like climbing to the heavens.

At that moment, Su Yunjin appeared, still childish, wearing a red school uniform with a high ponytail, her gaze steady as ever.

She walked up and asked, “Do you need help?”

She and her husband had thought of holding a banner in front of the relevant department to show their grievance. The little girl was so young, not yet grown—how could she help? Even adults struggled against such power.

But at that moment, having lost her only son, numb with grief, she nodded. That nod saved their lives.

Soon, they were interviewed by the media.

They gained recognition, lawyers came forward, and eventually higher authorities took notice and began an investigation.

They believed it was luck, but then heard the name: Su Yunjin!

It was thanks to this girl that everything changed.

From then on, their family owed this composed young woman a debt of gratitude.

They wanted to repay her, but Su Yunjin only asked that, if they had time, they come to help with cleaning.

She was prepared to serve for free all her life, but unexpectedly, working here earned her money.

Over the past ten years, her pay had only increased; thanks to this, she and her husband could raise their grandson, could keep hope alive in their lives.