Chapter Sixty-One: Charity, Helplessness, and the Limits of Human Effort

Director Wang chuckled and said nothing more. His intentions were as plain as day—everyone knew what he was after. Still, since it was a charitable endeavor, there was no reason for anyone to feel resentment or resistance.

The group soon entered the school. From this point, the spotlight shifted away from the celebrity guests. The cameras lingered on the children in the classroom, reciting their lessons. They lingered, too, on the crumbling corners of the walls and the rundown playground. The place hardly looked like a school—it felt more like a neglected farmhouse, marked by years of disrepair.

For a moment, many viewers in the live stream were moved.

“These kids in Zhoujia Village have it really rough,” someone commented.

“There’s nothing to be done—rural areas lack economic development. The fact that they can even go to school is already a blessing.”

“My old town had kids who came up from the countryside to study—some had to walk ten kilometers every day.”

“But that was our generation. Things shouldn’t be like that now, right?”

“Yeah, I never expected such elementary schools to still exist.”

“These kids have such a hard life!”

“They’re all so unfortunate. I noticed that most people left behind in Zhoujia Village are elderly; the young must all be away working. These must be their children.”

“I saw that too—when they were catching the New Year pig, there weren’t many young people around.”

“So, they’re all left-behind children?”

“Suddenly, I feel so sad.”

“We have it pretty good and forget that there are still people in the world who suffer.”

“It’s true, everyone is born equal, but life treats us all differently. These children deserve better.”

“I hope the production team can help them.”

“If the crew genuinely wants to help, I’ll sing this show’s praises to the skies. But if it’s just a gimmick, well…”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Most shows like this are just for show—even the celebrities are just playing along.”

“Honestly, I’d rather do something myself than wait for the show to act. I’m thinking of donating some supplies.”

“Well said. Let’s hope the crew does some good, but in the end, standing on the moral high ground just tells others what to do.”

“Don’t just point fingers and preach. If you don’t like it, figure out a way to help yourself.”

“I was planning to spend some money on a new game this week, but now I’ve decided to donate it all instead.”

“Me too. What does gaming bring? A fleeting joy. Helping others might change a life.”

To be honest, these shifts in the live stream took Director Wang and his team by surprise. They had expected to lay much more groundwork, supplement the footage, and conduct interviews to stir viewers’ emotions. Yet, everyone got into the spirit almost instantly, some even spontaneously advocating for donations to impoverished regions.

At one point, the show’s crew for “Celebrate the New Year at My Place” nearly found themselves on the hot seat. It was astonishing to gain traction and spark discussion so effortlessly. Even Director Wang couldn’t quite grasp how it had happened.

But the reason was not hard to deduce. Most viewers in the live stream were devoted fans of Bai Ling, or newcomers drawn by her recent rise to fame, eager to learn more about her. While some original fans of the program remained, their numbers paled in comparison to Bai Ling’s phenomenal popularity.

And with Bai Ling as the focal point, everything made sense. Those familiar with her story knew she’d endured a difficult childhood. She was a rare case—someone who longed for a better education but was prevented by her family circumstances from attending university. Many who had supported Bai Ling from the start were deeply empathetic, moved by her struggles and eager to ensure that fewer children endured the same fate.

Now, all these people had gathered in the live stream, and those earnest comments were only to be expected. As for the cynics, the impatient, the fans who only wanted to watch celebrity antics or indulge in romantic fantasies, they were entirely drowned out.

Though the turn of events was sudden, it was precisely what the crew had hoped for—a positive outcome.

Soon, Bai Ling and her companions met the head of the school. She was, in fact, a teacher who had come to volunteer here more than twenty years ago—a woman with an air of sorrow about her, as though life had not been kind.

Yet, when the group saw her, no one felt any resistance. Even if they preferred cheerful faces, they could not help but be moved. For though her brow was furrowed, her gaze lit up when she looked at the children.

Bai Ling, Wen Huaiyu, and the others began chatting with the teacher, making it easier for viewers to learn about the situation.

But after the conversation, both the guests and the audience fell silent.

The teacher’s name was Zhang Ruchun. Ever since she had come to Zhoujia Village to teach, she had never left. For twenty years, she had educated these children, nurturing them, helping them get into good secondary schools. She hoped that one day they might leave this small world and see the vastness beyond, to have a new life.

Everyone could hear in her words the genuine care she felt for these children. Why else would she have stayed for twenty years, even sacrificing her own chances for marriage, remaining single to this day?

But love alone could not change everything. Zhang Ruchun had given so much for the village’s education, but she could not truly alter the fate of every child.

Because the village itself was so underdeveloped, even if a child excelled academically and had the chance to attend a better school, their families often could not afford it. Free education covered only tuition—not living expenses, not the costs of living in town or the city. And even if they made it to a good secondary school, was that enough? What about high school? The fees for that? University?

The dream was for every child to have access to education—to have a school to attend. But even now, this remains an imperfect reality.

At last, everyone understood why Zhang Ruchun always seemed so burdened with sorrow. A person’s strength is finite. Even with all her efforts, she could not give every child a bright future. Over these twenty years, she had surely witnessed many tragedies.