Chapter Thirty-Two: Your Noodles Are Getting Cold

Exactly! Does Su Wannning have no shame?
What’s wrong with you all? By that logic, Sui Sui and Nian Nian are the youngest—does that mean they’re being bullied too?
It’s just a game, why take it so seriously?
Are there already brainless fans defending that fake Su? How many paid trolls did she buy?
The director still hadn’t announced the final reward, merely declaring hastily that Su Wannning was the ultimate victor. She didn’t care about the attacks from her haters.
After all, this afternoon was their break time; the livestream would pause, and it was a rare chance for some personal time. Su Wannning could barely contain her excitement.
When the director informed everyone of this, the comment barrage filled the screen with reluctant farewells.
No way, we haven’t had enough yet.
Please, just one more episode!
The male idol only just arrived—we want 24/7 nonstop coverage!
Director, if you keep this up, you’ll lose us.
The audience’s enthusiasm was at a fever pitch. The director hesitated, considering whether to keep the stream going, but suddenly saw Su Wannning beam a wide, dazzling smile and lean in close to the camera, waving excitedly at the viewers.
“Bye, everyone! Thank you all for your support. We’re taking a break now, and really, it’s for your sake too—especially you haters. Rest up so you can come back and hate me again later!”
With that, Su Wannning turned on her heel and left without a trace of nostalgia.
Director: “……”
What’s going on? Why does it feel like Su Wannning doesn’t want to do this at all?
Aren’t haters fans too? Unbelievable!
Told you she was just here for the money—now that she’s got it, she can slack off during the competition and can’t wait to end the stream!
But Su Wannning didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She simply gathered the two children and Qiu Rui and left.
She’d noticed earlier that the town had a market day today, and she had already promised Nian Nian to take her to have some fun.
The filming crew dispersed, and Su Wannning and Qiu Rui took the two children and headed grandly toward town.
Meanwhile, inside a private van, Yin Shanshan’s usual gentle, amiable smile—so often seen before the camera—had vanished. In the enclosed space, she listened to her assistant’s report on the recent live broadcast data, her face cold.
“…Among all the guests on the show, Su Wannning is currently the most popular, followed by you.”
The assistant’s voice grew quieter as Yin Shanshan’s expression turned even colder.
“That wretch!”
Exactly. Over the past few days, I’ve compiled clips of her most popular livestream moments—here they are.
The manager handed over a tablet. On screen, Su Wannning always wore a gentle smile—pleasing to the eye, no matter who watched her.
But Yin Shanshan frowned as she watched the entire video.
With a sharp snap, she flung the tablet down, her brow furrowing, her voice icy and speeding up: “Even someone who panders to the crowd in front of the camera can be more popular than me? What are you all doing?”
The assistant dared not protest, hanging her head. The manager quickly tried to appease her. “Don’t be too upset. A large portion of her comment section is still haters, mostly cursing her. In this respect, our livestream’s comment control has been much better.”
Yin Shanshan’s expression finally eased a little. She glanced out the window at Yangyang.
Thinking back to the competition just now, anger flared again.
“I didn’t get any screen time in that whole game, and our viewer numbers dropped sharply, all thanks to Qian Qian… By the way, did you save Su Wannning’s footage from just now?”
The manager nodded hurriedly.
Yin Shanshan’s lips curled into a cold, sinister smile that sent chills down the assistant’s spine.
At the market, Su Wannning and her group arrived as things were winding down. With a grand gesture, she led Qiu Rui and the two children to a noodle stall.
“Thank goodness, I don’t have to cook today. I’m going to enjoy myself for once.”
Su Wannning wore a face of utter satisfaction. As she spoke, she pulled out her phone stand and expertly set up her phone.
Qiu Rui, curious, asked, “What are you doing?”
“Livestreaming, of course,” Su Wannning replied as if it were obvious.
“I thought you were going to rest?”
She glanced at him with a mysterious look, lowering her voice: “You don’t get it. Working for yourself without a boss breathing down your neck—that’s as good as resting!”
Su Wannning started a livestream on her own account, and viewers quickly surged into the six figures.
“Hello, everyone! It’s only been an hour—did you miss me? Oh, and your favorite ‘big brother’ is here too—”
“Sister Su clearly understands exactly what you want—that’s why we’re here!”
Qiu Rui was forced to put on his professional smile for the camera, but Su Wannning was considerate, sweeping the lens past him quickly before turning it back on herself.
Sister Su, you are my goddess!
My bestie was just whining that she had nothing to watch this afternoon, I’m calling her over now—don’t you dare end the stream!
What’s happening? Are you eating?

Su Wannning took the camera on a quick tour of the village market, making the viewers in her livestream laugh out loud.
Meanwhile, in Qin Jingchen’s office, there was a heavy knock at the door. The assistant entered, face grave.
“Sir, a video has just gone viral online—it’s a smear piece about your wife.”
Qin Jingchen’s brow furrowed instantly.
It turned out that the footage from the name-tag-ripping game, showing Su Wannning ‘bullying’ Qian Qian with her son, had been maliciously edited and spread online, accusing her of picking on the weak with superior numbers.
The comments were filled with vitriol, and the shares and likes were climbing rapidly—it was already trending.
“How did this happen? Why wasn’t anyone watching?”
The assistant looked troubled. “Our people were monitoring the situation constantly. We thought since the show was off-air this afternoon, nothing would happen…”
Qin Jingchen cut him off sharply: “Get that video taken down immediately!”
“That might not be the best idea. Now that it’s trending, if we suddenly take it down, everyone will see it’s being manipulated behind the scenes, and the hate against Madam will only intensify.”
Qin Jingchen’s frown deepened, the atmosphere in the office growing tense. The assistant broke out in a cold sweat.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. “Perhaps you should call Madam and comfort her. After such a major incident, she must be feeling wronged and upset. Your support would surely help.”
He grew more enthusiastic as he spoke, silently congratulating himself for being so clever—this would strengthen the bond between Mr. Qin and his wife, and also take the heat off himself.
Qin Jingchen’s expression relaxed a fraction. “You may go.”
“Yes, sir.”
The assistant thoughtfully closed the door. Qin Jingchen sat quietly for a long while before finally picking up his phone.
The busy signal on the line seemed to echo his racing heartbeat, until at last the call connected and a bright, cheerful voice answered.
“Hello? What is it?”
“I—”
“Miss Su, your noodles are getting cold.”
Qin Jingchen’s dark eyes filled with gloom.