Chapter 129: Reaping What One Sows

“Congratulations to both of you, you may proceed to the next task.”

Before Mo Shu could step forward to ask, a new task card was already placed before his eyes.

Without a word, Mo Shu took the card and, pushing the still elated Lin Meinv, swiftly set off toward the next checkpoint.

Having painstakingly regained the lead, this was hardly a moment to celebrate.

As Mo Shu departed from Nanshan Extreme Park, the remaining teams were only just beginning to arrive one after another.

On the platform above, Zheng Xiongshi, having once again failed the challenge, cast a resentful gaze at the hurriedly retreating figures of Mo Shu and Lin Meinv. Deep down, he understood that the seemingly small gap between their teams now could very well become an insurmountable chasm.

As a seasoned football veteran familiar with competition, Zheng Xiongshi’s assessment of Mo Shu’s abilities was uncannily accurate.

Though the Tianwang team had not succumbed to the “high-altitude task” a third time, they never caught sight of Mo Shu and Lin Meinv again.

In fact, whether it was the subsequent “Half-Court Long Shot King” task or the ultimate “Underwater Treasure Hunt,” Mo Shu allowed no opportunity for his rivals to catch up, just as he typically did in ERC competitions.

Spectators might have caught glimpses of Mo Shu only at the start and finish, but throughout the entire event, his opponents felt as though they were competing against thin air—tedious, helpless, and utterly elusive.

After fighting alone for so long, Zhang Tianwang began to harbor a certain illusion.

Are they really in second place and not first? Are Mo Shu and Lin Meinv truly ahead of them? Why is there no trace of them anywhere?

Could it be that Mo Shu withdrew? Or perhaps they got lost?

Though Zhang Tianwang could not make sense of it, he kept urging Zheng Xiongshi to speed up, his expression gradually transforming into one of inexplicable confidence.

He was not one to give up easily; until the very last moment, Zhang Tianwang clung to a flicker of hope, pushing the absent-minded Zheng Xiongshi to the final checkpoint of this reality show.

From a distance, director Xiao Yao and a large crew had been waiting patiently. Once the Tianwang team struck the golden gong amidst the crowd, their game for the day would be considered complete.

Drawing nearer, they still saw no competitors standing in the finish area.

Zhang Tianwang exhaled in relief and slowed his pace.

“I told you we were overthinking. After all, Mo Shu is pushing a real person; there’s no way they could complete all the tasks so easily,” Zhang Tianwang said, his disbelief rooted in a steadfast refusal to accept defeat without proof.

“...” Zheng Xiongshi said nothing, lips pressed tightly, following behind Zhang Tianwang.

Years of professional athletic instinct told Zheng Xiongshi that though Mo Shu was young, he possessed the undeniable strength of a new wave surpassing the old.

Winning? Since Mo Shu had breezed through the “high-altitude task,” Zheng Xiongshi had not entertained that thought again.

He refrained from crushing Zhang Tianwang’s desire to win, because the cameras were constantly tracking them every moment.

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

Zhang Tianwang charged ahead, striking the gong three times with excitement.

Director Xiao Yao stepped forward, leading the applause and announcing, “Congratulations to the Tianwang team for completing the tasks. We are all moved by the two stars’ unyielding competitive spirit!”

The applause roared, as if truly celebrating the birth of champions.

Zhang Tianwang glanced smugly at Zheng Xiongshi and encouraged, “Old Zheng, I told you, the championship will be ours after all.”

Zheng Xiongshi smiled, though awkwardly, wondering what had gotten into Zhang Tianwang today—was he losing his mind?

If they had won, why did the director only say they had “completed the tasks” instead of declaring them the champions?

“Uh...” Director Xiao Yao’s face betrayed a hint of awkwardness upon hearing Zhang Tianwang’s self-proclaimed victory.

“Zhang Tianwang, you might have misunderstood. Today’s champions belong to Mo Shu and Lin Meinv,” Xiao Yao lowered his voice, trying to avoid being picked up by the microphone.

“What?!” Zhang Tianwang was stunned, spreading his hands in disbelief as he turned to his Follow PD to confirm.

“Zhang Tianwang, why are you asking the Follow PD? That’s pointless. I am her superior and know the progress of the show better than she does,” Xiao Yao continued to explain, while Zheng Xiongshi seemed to finally understand why Zhang Tianwang appeared “confused.”

The cause lay with the overly flattering and sycophantic Follow PD, Sister Juan’er, whose constant flattery had unwittingly fueled Zhang Tianwang’s misplaced confidence.

Though Mo Shu clearly possessed formidable strength, Sister Juan’er told Zhang Tianwang that Mo Shu was nothing but a flashy, well-connected poser.

She insisted that the Shadow team was far ahead of the Tianwang team, yet claimed Zhang Tianwang’s team was so exceptional that they might have already unknowingly surpassed the Shadow team.

But a Follow PD’s job was simply to assist and prompt their guest to complete tasks. For fairness, the production team never disclosed other teams’ progress or results to any Follow PD.

Sister Juan’er’s words were merely an attempt to curry favor with Zhang Tianwang.

After all, in previous rounds, the guests’ skills were relatively close, and Zhang Tianwang had consistently led the pack.

Therefore, Sister Juan’er’s praise often seemed genuine.

Until the unexpected appearance of the “unknown” Mo Shu—a racer who always played the fool but was actually a tiger in disguise—who shattered Sister Juan’er’s illusions. Her severe misjudgment of Mo Shu’s strength led Zhang Tianwang to underestimate his opponent, culminating in a humiliating defeat and a bitter disappointment.

Mistakenly believing he had won, Zhang Tianwang’s face showed a trace of despondency. Director Xiao Yao, worried about the star’s pride, quickly stepped forward to offer whispered consolation.

Zhang Tianwang appeared magnanimous, laughing at himself and letting it pass.

But matters rarely went so smoothly. While the stars maintained a polished public image and rarely showed dissatisfaction, their agents were far less accommodating.

Before Xiao Yao’s whispered words concluded, Zhang Tianwang’s agent called him aside.

Though their conversation was inaudible, the agent’s expression and gestures revealed much—he was visibly agitated.

“Please, Director! I was with them the entire time, saw everything with my own eyes, heard everything firsthand. Isn’t this gross negligence?” The agent’s sudden raised voice sent a shiver through the staff, each scrambling to recall if they had erred.

For a superstar guest, not only Xiao Yao but the entire Nanshan Broadcasting Corporation had to show some respect. After pondering, Xiao Yao said earnestly, “Alright, I understand. For the next shoot, we’ll assign Tianwang a more composed Follow PD. How about that?”

Though his tone was low, the sudden silence made his words crystal clear to all.

The production team was going to replace Zhang Tianwang’s Follow PD, and all eyes turned toward Sister Juan’er, who had long claimed seniority.

At that moment, Sister Juan’er’s face was pale as death, her lips purple, and a thick stack of script sheets scattered chaotically at her feet.