My Mother-in-Law and I Became the Internet’s Hottest Power Couple

If you ask CP fans, "Don’t you know Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng might get married? So why are you still shipping 'Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles'?"

The fans would definitely reply, "Of course we know! We’d be thrilled if they got married. But what does that have to do with Lu Yicheng?"

"He just facilitated the connection. Even without Lu Yicheng, 'Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles' would still be amazing. A rising star and a legendary actress stepping off her pedestal—no matter which era you place them in, their chemistry is undeniable."

"And really, who wouldn’t want the actress to change like this for them? Who wouldn’t want a friend like Jiang Lan?"

"Friends can give you things a boyfriend never could. Isn’t that enough?"

At 10 PM on Friday, the fourth episode aired simultaneously on Penguin Video and Fruit TV.

The ratings for the fourth episode broke 1.5, while the boy group survival show airing in the same time slot only managed 0.8—almost half as much.

The fourth episode also racked up over 50 million views on Penguin Video. The editing in the show was different from the live broadcast. During the fireworks display, the two had streamed via phone, with shaky footage and lagging. But the version in the fourth episode was filmed with professional micro-cameras, delivering much clearer visuals.

The sky lit up with bursts of fireworks, like falling meteors. In that moment, Yu Wanqiu’s face glowed.

And then came the jet ski scene—Yu Wanqiu seemed like a completely different person. The 30-second clip from The Final Kill was extended, showing her performing a mid-air flip, riding the waves in a breathtaking dive that stole the audience’s hearts.

"How can someone be this cool? How is this even possible?" All you could hear was Jiang Lan’s screams, especially when Yu Wanqiu said, "Just cheer me on—that’s all you need to do."

Before the episode even finished airing, it had already spawned two trending hashtags:

[Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles is real 23]

[The right way to get along with your mother-in-law 39]

[I’m tired of saying Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles is real.]

[Tell me, has Yu Wanqiu ever acted like this with anyone else?]

[Lu Shuangchen? Lu Yicheng?]

[Are they even worthy?]

[I can’t handle this—seriously, I need a break. You guys go ahead without me.]

[If you’re a true sister, you don’t get to say ‘I can’t’! Charge!]

[I don’t even know who to envy anymore. Fine, I’ll just stick to shipping them. Sob.]

[Who wouldn’t say they’re a perfect match?]

[Yu Wanqiu on a jet ski—I’ll sum it up in one word: legendary. If I were riding behind her, I’d scream even louder than Jiang Lan.]

[Poor Lu Yicheng only got three seconds of screen time.]

[And Jiang Lan was the one sending him off.]

[Is this the director’s stance on mother-in-law variety shows?]

[Let me break down the show’s hierarchy: Irreplaceable is hotter than the dating show next door, and ‘Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles’ is hotter than Irreplaceable. I hereby declare ‘Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles’ the undisputed champion.]

[The behind-the-scenes clips are great, but I’ve become a dual fan now. Trust me, dual fandom is the way to go.]

[Exactly—double the happiness.]

[Female celebrities in the industry need to step up. These two look like screensavers in every frame.]

[Lu Yicheng is seriously too handsome—it’s a shame he’s not in the entertainment industry.]

[When are these two getting married? I need to save up for the gift money.]

[Can we get more Lu Yicheng screen time?]

[How inconsiderate—he’s busy earning money to marry his girl.]

[Chen Hao really gets it this time, supporting his wife’s career.]

[Who knew someone who looks so simple could be such a sweetheart?]

[Hope these two stay happy.]

[Aunt Zhao cracks me up—finally realizing how great her daughter-in-law is.]

[Aunt Zhao, how were the lamb skewers?]

...

[The funniest one is Li Jia. Zhang Lin has figured out how to handle her mother-in-law.]

[Zhang Lin: "It’s not that I want to eat—it’s your grandson who wants it."]

[Taking notes, taking notes.]

[If Zhang Lin wants to work, let her. Her acting is solid.]

[I agree. If she hadn’t left the industry, she’d be way more famous now.]

[Not necessarily. The entertainment scene is oversaturated now—everyone wants a piece. Zhang Lin can’t lead idol dramas, so unless she hones her craft, staying wouldn’t have been easier. This is just the harsh reality.]

[So here’s my advice to starlets dreaming of marrying into wealth: even if you do, don’t quit the industry. If things go south and you have to come back, it’ll be a rough look.]

[Am I the only one who thinks Zhang Lin brought this on herself? She chose this path—now she’s stuck with it.]

[You make your bed, you lie in it.]

[And then there’s Chen Shuyun. If it were me, I’d have divorced ages ago. She can earn her own money—why put up with this?]

[Chen Shuyun works, Aunt Zhao takes care of the kids. They both contribute, just in different ways. Don’t act like Aunt Zhao isn’t doing anything—raising kids is hard too.]

Netizens argued endlessly over these issues. Family drama is always divisive, and once the debates start, they never end. By midnight, when the episode wrapped, the show had two more trending tags:

[The director’s stubbornness in mother-in-law variety shows 12]

[The art of mother-in-law relationships 38]

[Not everyone can be like Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu. In real life, most mother-in-law relationships are like Chen Shuyun and Aunt Zhao’s. But we can still strive for better.]

[It might be idealistic, but a son plays a huge role in mother-in-law dynamics. Look at Lu Yicheng—he’s doing it right.]

[Exactly. Lu Yicheng is great.]

[We’ve all seen it.]

[Good sons take after their fathers. I bet Yu Wanqiu gets along well with her own mother-in-law too.]

[Brilliant take, sisters.]

The fourth episode outperformed the first three, evident in the surge in viewership and ratings. It became the highest-rated and most-watched variety show in its time slot.

Keep in mind, summer programming included a parenting show, two survival competitions, three dating shows, and several challenge-based entertainment programs—many featuring A-list celebrities.

Take the parenting show, for example. One of the guests was a veteran actor who’d retired from the industry, now appearing with his daughter. His fanbase was massive, and the father-daughter duo was a major draw.

The survival shows had judges who were top-tier singers with strong followings, plus a street dance mentor who was a former boy band leader and a popular young actress as a guest judge. The lineups were stacked.

The dating shows were packed with attractive singles. Though they lacked big-name stars, romance sells. Who would’ve thought a mother-in-law variety show would outshine them all—higher ratings, more viewers, and a bigger CP fanbase?

Zhang Tian was beyond satisfied. Fellow variety directors couldn’t help but needle him: "With the show this hot, you must be raking it in, huh?"

Zhang Tian just laughed it off. Sure, the profits were high, but so were the expenses—travel costs for the entire crew to Q City, food, renting out Golden Beach and the water park. It was like burning money.

But the other directors weren’t wrong. Brands were lining up to sponsor the show.

Household names in dairy, cooking oil, skincare, and luxury fashion were all vying for ad slots, some even requesting specific guest appearances.

A well-known milk brand, already a sponsor, had initially only secured a pre-show ad. But they invested an additional 20 million for a mini skit featuring Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu promoting their product.

Zhang Tian needed to check with Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan first...

Yu Wanqiu had no objections. When filming a show, she usually followed the director's lead on major decisions. Shooting such a short skit would come with a small compensation fee.

Jiang Lan whispered to Yu Wanqiu, "Teacher Yu, I don’t really like drinking milk."

Jiang Lan was worried she wouldn’t be able to act convincingly—she wasn’t a professional actress, after all.

Even though she spoke softly, Zhang Tian could still hear her in the same room. "We can reconsider if you’d like. The production team isn’t short on funds, so you don’t have to take this if you’re not comfortable."

Yu Wanqiu certainly didn’t need the money, and Zhang Tian respected the guests' opinions.

Yu Wanqiu asked, "How soon will the payment be deposited after filming?"

Zhang Tian: "...Uh, it’ll definitely be processed as quickly as possible. Once the sponsor transfers the funds, the production team will immediately deposit the payment into your account. The ad will be inserted midway through the episode—just a short two-minute segment, but filming might take a bit longer."

Yu Wanqiu turned to Jiang Lan. "Drinking milk is good for your health. It might even help you grow taller."

Jiang Lan: "???"

Zhang Tian coughed lightly. "The skit doesn’t necessarily have to revolve around drinking milk. There’s a script—we can incorporate milk into things like milk tea, yogurt, or cakes. This brand is very well-known and has consistently high quality. It’s even an official sponsor of the Olympics."

It would also boost Yu Wanqiu’s public appeal.

Jiang Lan: "Then let’s film it."

She just wasn’t used to the taste of milk, especially when heated. But milk tea? She loved that.

Zhang Tian and the assistant director quickly drafted a short script.

The main plot revolved around the two of them planning to have afternoon tea, only for the rain to delay their cake delivery. Left to make their own desserts, milk became the star ingredient—and the resulting sweets turned out surprisingly delicious.

Coincidentally, it rained that Saturday, the sky gloomy and overcast. Plus, ordering takeout fit Jiang Lan’s character perfectly.

Main cast: Yu Wanqiu, Jiang Lan, and milk.

For the afternoon tea segment, they had to actually make the desserts—no shortcuts like buying pre-made cakes or milk tea and passing them off as homemade.

Neither Yu Wanqiu nor Jiang Lan had ever baked a cake before. When the crew brought the oven and ingredients up to the fourth floor, the two of them exchanged uncertain glances.

Yu Wanqiu: "Let me look up how to do this first."

She sent Lu Yicheng a quick message.

The recipes were beginner-friendly—taro milk tea with pearls, sponge cake, and egg tarts.

The tea for the milk tea was high-quality black tea that Little Xu had delivered. The taro paste had to be made from scratch by boiling taro, and even the pearls and taro balls had to be handmade.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍production team provided the ingredients.

They did have tea on hand, but the kind Little Xu brought was clearly more expensive—no one was sure where he’d gotten it.

The first part—ordering takeout on a rainy day—went smoothly, but things got progressively messier from there.

Sometimes they forgot their lines, sometimes they burst out laughing, and sometimes their baking attempts ended in disaster.

This was Jiang Lan’s first time filming something so formally, and she felt a bit stiff. Following an online recipe for sponge cake, she replicated the steps exactly—only for the cake to collapse in the middle after baking.

It looked like a receding hairline.

"...Pfft—ha! Let me taste it first." Jiang Lan took a bite. Despite its unfortunate appearance, the cake was soft, sweet, and unexpectedly tasty.

"Not bad!" She handed a piece to Yu Wanqiu to try.

The cake had a rich milky flavor and was quite fragrant—just not very photogenic.

Zhang Tian shook his head. "This won’t work. People might think the milk’s to blame. Bake a few more, and we’ll use the best-looking one for filming."

They could stage the shots, but the end result had to look presentable.

By the end of the afternoon, they’d baked nearly eight cakes—each one uniquely hideous.

...

Yu Wanqiu checked her phone. "Let’s add some baking powder. It’ll help prevent collapsing."

This time, they finally produced a golden masterpiece.

Yu Wanqiu also brewed milk tea and baked egg tarts. The tarts turned out well, so she made a large batch. As usual, Jiang Lan brought some downstairs to share with the neighbors.

The less visually appealing cakes were too embarrassing to give away, and they couldn’t possibly finish them all themselves. Yu Wanqiu remarked, "By the way, when is Lu Yicheng coming over? You should bring some for him."

Jiang Lan: "Huh?"

Yu Wanqiu: "What do you mean, ‘huh’? You made these with your own hands—he should be happy to receive them."

This way, they wouldn’t have to worry about leftovers.

Jiang Lan thought it was a brilliant idea. "Hehe, sounds good."

Once the cakes were done, they filmed a few additional shots. The footage would be edited and inserted into the episode later.

Aside from the milk ad, there were others—Chen Shuyun’s family filmed one for personal care products, Zhang Lin for maternity-friendly makeup, and Shen Xingyao for a luxury fashion brand.

The production team had secured a fresh influx of funding, covering the expenses from their previous trip to Q City.

Once the sponsors approved, the payments would be processed.

Yu Wanqiu no longer had to worry about Jiang Lan’s financial situation.

For Jiang Lan, this was a life-changing sum—four million before taxes, leaving her with over three million after deductions. She had no idea how to spend it all.

First, she’d buy a high-quality violin—her only valuable possession.

After that?

Ice cream! Haagen-Dazs! Takeout! Barbecue! Meat every day!

Yu Wanqiu said calmly, "You could hire someone to manage your finances. That way, your money will grow. I can recommend an assistant who specializes in this. Or you could ask Lu Yicheng."

Jiang Lan leaned closer. "Teacher Yu, did you take this job because of me? Were you worried I’d run out of money?"

Yu Wanqiu rarely did ads.

Yu Wanqiu immediately denied it. "Of course not. Why would I care about your finances?"

"Even if you starved on the streets, it wouldn’t be my concern."

Jiang Lan didn’t believe her. Though the money hadn’t hit her account yet, just thinking about all those zeros made her heart race.

"Teacher Yu, thank you."

Yu Wanqiu sent her the financial assistant’s WeChat contact, along with another name. "This is Chen Ninglei’s studio account. They’re looking for a part-time violinist—two weeks’ work, but you’ll need to audition."

Chen Ninglei composed soundtracks for films and TV dramas. His studio was one of the largest, handling nearly half of the industry’s OSTs.

Jiang Lan nodded eagerly. "I’ll do my best. Thank you, Teacher Yu."

Yu Wanqiu pressed her lips together briefly. "No need."

She packed the remaining cakes into the fridge. "We can’t possibly finish all of these. Bring more for Lu Yicheng—if he can’t eat it all, he can take it home."

Lu Yicheng usually lived on his own, but his father was still around.