My Mother-in-Law and I Became the Internet's Hottest Power Couple-Chapter 44
Fireflies fluttered their wings, emerging one by one from the forest.
People often say how could the glow of fireflies compete with the sun and moon, but at this moment, the fireflies were the most beautiful sight—nothing could compare, not even the moonlight or the stars.
Yu Wanqiu couldn’t help but take a few steps forward.
Many movies and TV shows have scenes with fireflies, but most are special effects. The scattered, twinkling lights make audiences exclaim how romantic they are, yet the awe of seeing them in person is something a screen could never capture.
Who knew fireflies could be so breathtaking? They’re just insects, yet they’re stunning like this.
Like tiny fairies carrying lanterns, wandering lost through the woods—some braver ones even drift beyond the trees, circling people before flitting back.
Yu Wanqiu reached out, and a firefly briefly touched her palm before darting away. She spun in a circle, surrounded by fireflies, their lights swaying with her movements.
"They’re just… so beautiful."
No eloquent words came to mind—only "beautiful" echoed in her thoughts.
She had dressed in long sleeves and pants to enter the woods, bundled up tightly. Though not in a dress, Yu Wanqiu felt like a fairy from a fairy tale.
A woodland spirit bathed in moonlight.
Jiang Lan gasped. "How long will they fly? When do they go home?"
Yu Wanqiu looked dazed. "I don’t know… Maybe when the sun rises, they’ll sleep?"
"If the moon’s awake, they’re awake—bald little night owls," Jiang Lan joked, turning her phone camera toward the forest to show their fans. "Look, the fireflies are out!"
Though Jiang Lan’s hands weren’t the steadiest tripod, the fans watching the livestream saw the fireflies emerge.
The screen dimmed, but in that instant, one by one, they appeared, lanterns in tow—like the forest’s welcome ceremony for the two of them.
The pitch-black woods lit up with their glow, truly resembling a fairy-tale world. This kind of scenery actually existed.
Unlike the fireworks display before, this was nature’s own masterpiece—a sight unlike any other.
[Safety reminder: You can breathe now.]
[I hereby crown Jiang Lan the queen of romance.]
[Oh my god, my heart’s pounding—this angle feels like Jiang Lan set this up just for me.]
[Slaps myself awake—this is Yu Wanqiu’s happiness, not mine.]
[How do they always end up in such gorgeous places?]
[Meanwhile, my dates with my boyfriend are always the same few spots.]
[After the fireworks show, I finally admit I’m a country bumpkin.]
[This is pure joy—if it were me, I’d remember this forever.]
[They’re both so stunning. Honestly, even watching the livestream, I can’t forget this scene.]
[Who wouldn’t say they’re a perfect match?]
[I thought the fireworks were the peak, but then came the beach, the amusement park, and now the Firefly Forest.]
["Lanzhou Pulled Noodles" is real—I’m tired of saying it.]
[I just want the livestream to go till midnight.]
[I have my phone, tablet, and laptop—I can even spare a screen for Yu Wanqiu.]
Zhang Tian nearly spat blood reading this comment. The livestream had over 40 million views, with roughly four million people watching.
If it really went till midnight, what would happen to his show? Just as Zhang Tian was fretting, his phone buzzed with another notification: [The streamer you follow is live!]
...
It was Shen Xingyao.
Shen Xingyao had already met her weekly streaming quota, but the Firefly Forest was too mesmerizing—she wanted her fans to see it too.
"I came with Yu Wanqiu and the others, but we’re in a different spot. There are fireflies here too. Won’t stream long—gotta watch the show later."
This eased Zhang Tian’s worries a little. At least the guests had some professionalism. Jiang Lan didn’t plan to stream too long either, saying goodbye to fans before 9 p.m.
"The environment here is amazing. The homestay’s affordable, and the local food’s great. Tomorrow we might go mushroom picking—there are tons of fungi here. Bye!"
Fans were reluctant to let go, but today was double the joy—after the stream, they could binge Bilibili videos, many of which were fan favorites with sky-high view counts.
By the time they finished, it’d be around 10 p.m., just in time for Episode 5 of When the Mother-in-Law Comes.
Last episode’s ratings hit 1.5, but this one soared to 1.8 at the start.
A 0.3 jump might seem small, but in ratings, it’s a giant leap toward going viral.
Many young viewers dragged their families to watch—mothers, husbands, but mostly mothers-in-law.
Mother-in-law relationships are a common struggle, and if they could get along like Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan, who’d have issues?
Yu Wanqiu’s words were full of wisdom.
Should mothers-in-law live with their kids? How many children should a couple have? What’s the right distance to keep with a daughter-in-law?
These questions sparked deep thought—though in Episode 1, she and Jiang Lan kept their distance perfectly.
But every family’s different, and so are mother-in-law dynamics.
The only universal takeaway? For a good relationship, the son’s role is crucial.
To master family harmony, learn from Lu Yicheng.
Zhang Lixue, an ordinary office worker married for three years with a two-year-old daughter, faced a common dilemma.
With both parents working, the child was raised by her grandmothers—each taking six-month shifts.
Her own mom was a given, but her mother-in-law was just as devoted, following modern parenting methods to the letter. Yet Zhang Lixue had two frustrations: her mother-in-law’s push for a second child, and the awkward politeness between them.
Watching the show, Zhang Lixue felt a pang of envy.
Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan were so sweet—if her mother-in-law were half as warm, she’d be overjoyed.
But relationships go both ways. Zhang Lixue didn’t have a son, but she imagined—if her future daughter-in-law were like Jiang Lan, how happy she’d be.
To expect a mother-in-law like Yu Wanqiu, she’d have to be a Jiang Lan herself.
She coaxed her mother-in-law to watch the show. The old lady resisted—she usually slept by this hour.
"Who has time for TV with a toddler to chase all day?"
Zhang Lixue insisted it was worth it, and finally, her mother-in-law grudgingly sat on the sofa.
Zhang Lixue brought snacks. "Mom, let’s eat while we watch."
The old lady took a symbolic bite, then ignored the food—but her eyes stayed glued to the screen.
Unlike the first four episodes, Episode 5 had a mid-show ad—a one-minute mini-drama.
Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan made desserts and milk tea, a fresh twist on typical milk commercials.
The episode also featured Zhang Lin and Shen Xingyao’s auditions. Their new drama would start filming in late August. Zhang Lin’s role was minor, leaving her free for other projects.
...
For Zhang Lin, the road ahead was much tougher. Being pregnant meant she couldn’t film most of her scenes, and many directors weren’t inclined to cast her. Nowadays, everyone chased after trending celebrities—big-name stars took the lead roles, while seasoned actors were relegated to supporting parts. Zhang Lin didn’t fit into either category.
Shen Xingyao, on the other hand, had it much smoother. She had the luxury of picking her roles. Seeing Zhang Lin’s situation filled her with both sorrow and a sense of dread. If she kept relying solely on variety shows, once her popularity faded, she’d likely fade out of the entertainment industry altogether.
Perhaps she’d end up like Zhang Lin—having kids, posting about motherhood, and if she still had fans left, maybe joining a parenting reality show. That would be her future. Coming back after that? Nearly impossible.
Zhang Lin was well aware of her predicament. She knew netizens would mostly mock her. Being famous once didn’t guarantee lasting fame. Countless beautiful, talented actors never quite made it big.
Zhang Lin had missed her prime. As one netizen aptly put it, “Not everything stays where you left it. If you want a comeback, you have to put in the work.”
Zhang Lin worked hard, cherishing every acting opportunity she got—even auditions.
Shen Xingyao hadn’t been in the mood to comfort Zhang Lin lately. Earlier this week, she’d taken Du Wanzhou for a full-body checkup, and the results weren’t great. Du Wanzhou’s blood sugar was over eight, and her blood pressure was also high. Without control, she’d develop diabetes.
High blood sugar and blood pressure could lead to many complications. The doctor advised that if she didn’t want medication, Du Wanzhou needed to lose weight.
Du Wanzhou had initially brushed it off, thinking she was perfectly healthy.
Turns out, she was riddled with issues.
Shen Xingyao was just glad she’d taken her for the checkup. Otherwise…
She shared the news with Chen Hao, and the couple decided to start controlling their diet and exercising from now on. Many foods were off the table.
Du Wanzhou was scared. She’d always been overweight but never sick, eating whatever she pleased. Now, with high blood sugar and blood pressure, could she even handle exercise?
Shen Xingyao said, “You have to. Look at Teacher Yu, look at other mothers-in-law—see how they work out? You’re giving me a headache. Starting today, no more indulging. I’ll do it with you.”
Du Wanzhou: “???”
Chen Shuyun’s family had little screen time this episode, mostly just Aunt Zhao sighing and lamenting. The meals had become so bland that Aunt Zhao half-believed she was preparing to become a monk.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and asked Chen Shuyun, “If I quit this job, can I go back later?”
Chen Shuyun replied coolly, “Mom, you always complained I didn’t take care of the family. Why go back to work? That job paid well but was exhausting. It’s better not to.”
Aunt Zhao sighed again. “I didn’t understand back then. I never went to school, didn’t know anything, and you never explained it to me. Sigh. A good job, ruined because of me.”
For the first time, Aunt Zhao admitted it was her fault.
Chen Shuyun shifted her posture. “We’ll see. I worked there for years. Even a starved camel is bigger than a horse.”
Aunt Zhao quickly patted her chest. “Then you should really talk to your boss. I’ll get some organic eggs from back home, some local specialties… maybe give them to your old colleagues…”
Chen Shuyun didn’t commit. “We’ll see. It’s not that simple.”
Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan’s segment featured an interview scene, though the other three girls were edited out. The thirty-something minutes, spread over a week of interactions, felt rushed.
Jiang Lan got along well with her coworkers and was highly efficient. Fans even spotted a familiar face at Chen Ninglei’s studio—
Lu Xingran.
Following Xie Zheng, the former idol group leader who appeared on a mother-in-law reality show, Lu Xingran had now taken the same path.
More famous than his looks was his talent. Online, he was hailed as a genius composer, “the work of Nuwa’s favor.” Plus, Lu Xingran was always decked out in designer brands—rumor had it his family was loaded.
With his roguishly handsome looks, he had hordes of fangirls.
No one expected his first variety show appearance to be a mother-in-law reality show.
Just how much had the production team paid him?
Zhang Tian felt wronged by the assumptions. They just cast whoever was hot right now. Chen Ninglei had even made a cameo—why was no one talking about that? Was there no justice for the less attractive?
Fans swooned over Lu Xingran’s charm, declaring that nothing was sexier than a man hard at work. Zhang Tian just scoffed. If only they knew—Lu Xingran had asked for Jiang Lan’s WeChat.
Tch. What an idiot.
Zhang Tian had left that part out of the edit. Otherwise, fans would’ve seen Lu Xingran’s true colors.
This episode also featured Yu Wanqiu’s lovingly packed lunchbox, which had once trended online. But aside from Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu, no one knew what it looked like.
Now, everyone did.
Garlic chicken wings, dry-pot potatoes, and seaweed rice balls.
The presentation alone showed how meticulous Yu Wanqiu was—everything was arranged beautifully.
A pink piggy lunchbox with three compartments: chicken wings neatly lined up, sprinkled with sesame seeds; golden-edged potato slices stir-fried with green and red peppers, vibrant in color; and the cutest of all, rice balls shaped like little bears—the kind a mom might make for her elementary school kid.
On top of that, there were cupcakes, milk tea, and flowers—all for Jiang Lan.
Though it seemed like Jiang Lan’s usual fare, no one could accuse Yu Wanqiu of not putting in effort.
The show added a timer in post-production, showing Yu Wanqiu spending the whole day on the go, while Jiang Lan, like a little hamster, brought a bag of snacks for her.
At the end, Jiang Lan took an early vacation, and Yu Wanqiu called to say she’d take the private jet.
This episode’s comments:
[When some people say they’re taking a private jet, they actually have one. When I say it, my husband tells me to stop watching so many dramas.]
[So that call was to her husband?]
[Some people appear, but also… don’t?]
[Is that lunchbox made for a three-year-old? One bite and the bear’s head is gone.]
[Ughhh it looks so good. How are these two so perfect?]
[I just want to know—has anyone besides Jiang Lan ever eaten a lunch like this?]
[Let me pretend I can taste it.]
[Every time I think they’re living normal lives, they kick me awake.]
[Some people can pull all-nighters gaming and still ride jet skis. Some people can eat street food and still summon private jets. Some people can party nonstop and still stun with a violin. This? This is the difference.]
[Jiang Lan’s interview segment was impressive. But word is, Lu Xingran asked for her WeChat, and she refused. A lot of people saw it.]
[I heard that too, but Lu Xingran’s fans are rabid. Better not poke the bear.]
[Lu Xingran totally looks like a player. Only naive girls fall for that face.]
[These kinds of rumors pop up ten times a day. Doubt he’s desperate enough to chase someone else’s girlfriend.]
[What’s the deal with Lu Xingran? Handsome? LYC is handsome too. No wonder Jiang Lan turned him down.]
[OMG finally, an irreplaceable CP fan! Feels like finding family.]
[Right? LYC is seriously good-looking.]
[What’s Lu Xingran got on him?]
[No need to pit them against each other. Looks-wise, they’re about equal. Actually, they kinda look alike.]
[Now that you mention it… they do.]
"Stop arguing, stop arguing! One has a bunch of fangirls, the other has a boyfriend—what’s there to fight about when they’re not even remotely connected? Just enjoy the show, Aunt Zhao is absolutely hilarious."
"Du Wanzhou looks utterly done with life. Other people’s mothers-in-law are like this and that, but how come yours is like this?"
"I should schedule a health checkup for my mom too—this is way too risky."
"Older folks never want to get checkups, always saying they know their own bodies best."
"When’s the next episode airing? I can’t wait to see 'Firefly Forest'!"
"Jiang Lan’s phone livestream is so shaky, it’s hard to see anything. I really want to watch 'Firefly Forest'!"
"These two are just too good at this."
"Am I the only one who finds the ad super sweet? The cake they made looks delicious."
"This brand of milk tastes really good—rich and creamy, plus it’s fortified with calcium. Drinking the same milk and wearing matching bracelets with my wife? Basically makes us sisters."
Zhang Lixue and her mother-in-law finished watching the episode. The older woman didn’t seem particularly tired. "Is all of this scripted?"
Zhang Lixue replied, "No, it’s a variety show. They invited four groups of guests to live together in the same place, and it’s pretty close to their daily lives."
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The older woman asked again, "Are these two also a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law pair?"
She was referring to Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan. Older people don’t usually watch movies, so she didn’t recognize big celebrities. Yu Wanqiu looked too young—nothing like a mother-in-law to Jiang Lan.
Zhang Lixue nodded. The older woman didn’t say much else, and Zhang Lixue didn’t expect a show to magically fix their relationship. But it did remind her of something. "Mom, let’s schedule a health checkup tomorrow. It’s good to get checked out—no harm in it."
The older woman waved her off. "I’m perfectly fine. Don’t waste money."
Older folks are always afraid of spending unnecessarily. Zhang Lixue insisted, "It’s already booked. If you don’t go, the money won’t be refunded anyway. Alright, it’s late—let’s get some sleep."
The episode trended with several hashtags, one of which was [#Episode6FireflyForest12]. It sounded ridiculous, but Zhang Tian couldn’t even complain. The buzz Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan brought was beyond expectations—yet the two of them weren’t even watching the show, having spent half the day playing in the woods.
This small town felt like it was cut off from the world. The locals saw fireflies every day and were completely bored of them.
By 9 p.m., the fireflies from the forest started drifting into the streets, filling them with flickering lights.
Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan took tons of photos. The streets were nearly empty by 10, but they couldn’t bring themselves to leave.
The houses here were charming, surrounded by trees and flowers—nothing like the big cities like Magic City or B City.
The cameraman had captured so many shots today. This place was pure inspiration—serene, picturesque, and with Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan as subjects, every angle worked.
They wandered until 10 before heading back to the homestay.
Unlike hotels, homestays were spare rooms in locals’ homes, rented out to earn a little extra.
The kitchen was available, so Yu Wanqiu made a bowl of instant noodles. Jiang Lan had said she was hungry and suddenly craved the stuff.
In Yu Wanqiu’s mind, junk food was fine once in a while—carbonated drinks once a week, hotpot or skewers twice a week—but instant noodles? Best avoided.
No nutrition, easy to gain weight—what’s the point?
Jiang Lan argued, "But they’re so good! Add a sausage and an egg—actually, I’ll do it myself."
Jiang Lan had eighteen ways to cook instant noodles.
She stir-fried tomatoes, added milk, tossed in meatballs and sausage, layered on two slices of cheese, sprinkled the seasoning packet, and finished with a perfectly runny egg.
"Yu-laoshi, you really won’t try any? Should I make two packs?"
Yu Wanqiu: "No. You added so much stuff—are you sure you won’t overeat and need digestion pills later?"
Jiang Lan reassured her and, for health’s sake, threw in a handful of lettuce.
The finished noodles had a rich, golden-red broth, springy yet tender, and looked incredibly appetizing.
Not just looked—it smelled amazing too. The tangy tomato aroma blended with the creaminess of cheese and milk. The seasoning was beef-flavored, the egg yolk oozed just right, and the little meatballs and sausage slices made it a hearty bowl.
Jiang Lan felt like she was in heaven—fireflies, a leisurely walk, and now this? Perfection.
After a couple of bites, she asked, "Yu-laoshi, you sure you don’t want a taste?"
Yu Wanqiu had been firm—she’d checked the package. The noodles were calorie bombs, and the seasoning was pure oil.
But Jiang Lan was offering.
So Yu Wanqiu nodded.
Jiang Lan grinned. "Yu-laoshi, this is my specialty. It’s seriously good."
Yu Wanqiu took a bite. The noodles, coated in the rich broth, were undeniably delicious—nothing like store-bought instant noodles.
The tomato had a hint of creaminess, the cheese added depth, and the flavors exploded in her mouth. (Along with the calories, probably.)
The sausage was great, the meatballs were great, even the broth was great.
Yu Wanqiu had eaten instant noodles before—back when filming in remote areas left no other options.
But this? Completely different.
She took several more bites. "You have a real talent for cooking."
Jiang Lan watched as nearly half the bowl disappeared. "Yu-laoshi, didn’t you say…?"
That she wouldn’t eat any? Sure, Jiang Lan had offered, but she’d expected one bite—not this!
Now there wasn’t enough left for her!
Unacceptable. Even if it was Yu Wanqiu.
Yu Wanqiu hesitated. "…Should we make another pack? This is really good."
Jiang Lan: "I asked earlier if we should make two, and you said no. Now you’ve eaten half of mine and suddenly love it? Seriously."
Yu Wanqiu was guilty. "I didn’t know it’d be like this. Fine, I’ll make the next pack, okay?"
Jiang Lan: "You’d better. Finish this first, then we’ll make more."
The bowl was already sizable—with the egg, sausage, meatballs, and greens, they were about 70% full by the end.
Jiang Lan: "Maybe we shouldn’t make more. Overeating at night isn’t good." She went to wash the dishes while Yu Wanqiu scrolled on her phone.
When Jiang Lan returned, Yu Wanqiu said, "Oh, right—Lu Xingran added you, didn’t he? Accept it. He probably has music-related questions."
Jiang Lan froze. She’d gotten a friend request earlier with Lu Xingran’s name in the notes, but she hadn’t accepted.
First, she had a boyfriend. Second, she was just a part-timer—what could she possibly help Lu Xingran with?
But Yu Wanqiu’s tone suggested she knew him.
"Yu-laoshi, who is Lu Xingran to you?"
Yu Wanqiu said, "If we’re going by Lu Yicheng’s family tree, you’d call him 'cousin.'"
She meant Lu Xingran, of course.
Jiang Lan: "Huh??"
Yu Wanqiu: "He’s the son of Lu Yicheng’s uncle. They’re close—has Lu Yicheng never mentioned him?"
Lu Xingran was Yu Wanqiu’s nephew. When he entered the entertainment industry, part of the reason was her influence.
Families like theirs rarely let their kids go into showbiz—but having an award-winning actress as an aunt helped.
This blame lies with Lu Yicheng. When the two of them were together, even Yu Wanqiu never mentioned it, let alone some cousin.
Jiang Lan shook her head, "Then I’ll accept it, but I might not be much help, okay?"
...
Yu Wanqiu said, "Just adding for fun. Lu Xingran is a few years older than you guys—26 this year. You actually have quite a bit in common."
Running into each other this time was a coincidence, so it was a good chance to add him as a friend. Even if they hadn’t met now, they’d definitely have to meet eventually.
Jiang Lan accepted the friend request. Lu Xingran sent a "Hello," followed by: [Getting your WeChat was no easy task. Could you take a look at this part? Would it sound better with a cello?]
He attached an audio clip.
[If you’re busy, you can check it tomorrow.]
Jiang Lan gave it a listen. Yu Wanqiu noticed how focused Jiang Lan looked while working and glanced over a few times—until a WeChat call came through.
It was from Lu Yicheng.
Yu Wanqiu frowned. "Why are you calling so late?"
