The Trending Topic Herself: The Villainess is the Superstar!

Chapter 262: Can’t Bear to See Her Suffer

The series of inquiries made Vincent Summers increasingly unable to cope. So, during these past two days of live streaming, Ian Rowe didn’t follow the rules at all, just kept looking at Maya Monroe’s face?

Isn’t this a classic case of infatuation?

Vincent thought for a moment and decided to explain: "Maya had rotten luck and drew this dilapidated house. Plus, the guests have to gather their own resources and eat whatever they find. You know Maya is hopeless at cooking, right? How can you expect her to eat anything that’s been cooked?"

He paused and continued, "She’s been eating a lot of vegetables lately. When she gets back, Ian, you can treat her to a big meal as compensation."

Ian Rowe’s gaze was deep, lost in thought.

The screen switched scenes again and Miles Wallace stood up. Not long after, he came over with hot soup. With limited ingredients and cooking utensils, it was just a simple tomato egg drop soup, but Maya was pleasantly surprised, her eyes sparkling as she thanked him.

Ian turned his face away in annoyance, not wanting to watch this frustrating live stream anymore.

He felt a mix of relief that she was getting better food, yet...

Overall, his emotions were quite complex.

Vincent thought that Miles Wallace was quite reliable, and Maya hadn’t gone hungry under his care. Although Maya could fill her stomach herself, the quality of meals was completely different.

Vincent felt this in his heart but wouldn’t foolishly express it out loud, given the formidable figure sitting beside him.

At some point, Ian Rowe lit a cigarette, holding it between his slender fingers, as smoke rose in spirals.

His mind was occupied with Maya’s smiling face.

Could a bowl of egg drop soup really make her this happy?

His eyes frequently landed on the screen, with a complex, unreadable gaze.

After a while, his voice finally sounded:

"We can’t let her eat like this every day. Arrange for someone to send her some supplies."

He had to admit, he couldn’t bear to see her living in such an old house, constantly bothered by mosquitoes at night. Even her meals were haphazardly solved with whatever fruits she could find.

Ian was surprised at how much her endurance for hardship had increased compared to before. Besides the surprise, the more noticeable emotion was a feeling of distress.

He saw her originally fair skin being reddened by the sun, working tirelessly under its rays every day.

Although Maya wasn’t pampered, she wasn’t one to enjoy hardship either. On the set, she’d find a shady spot to relax and leisurely eat fruit.

Ian couldn’t imagine how she managed to get through these episodes.

He lowered his gaze and added:

"Also, send some clothes and daily necessities."

Vincent swallowed: "Ian, are you kidding me? They’re filming a show with a theme of misery. How could they accept supplies? Besides, this is a live broadcast, everything is under the camera, there’s absolutely no privacy! If supplies are sent, who knows what stories people will spin online?"

Ian tapped his fingers lightly on the table and looked up at him: "Can’t this be done in private?"

"In private? What do you mean?"

"These supplies can either be sent from the villagers or as rewards from the show. Do you understand what I mean?"

Vincent nodded: "In that case, I’ll make arrangements."

He didn’t expect Ian to put so much effort into Maya.

Ian’s gaze returned to the screen, and he took a deep drag on the cigarette.

Vincent was about to turn and leave when he heard Ian’s deep voice again:

"Remember to be smart about it and avoid being obvious."

"No problem, I got it, Ian."

*

Thanks to Miles Wallace’s cooking, Maya finally had a warm meal.

Miles was indeed quite talented in cooking. He had learned the village chief’s ways of cooking and was able to handle simple meals perfectly.

Today’s meal was tomato scrambled eggs, cold cucumber salad, and a bag of toast. It counted as a hot dish and a cold dish, complementing with some bread.

Compared to the raw tomatoes before, the current meal was definitely a significant improvement, and Maya was already very satisfied.

It’s often said that those who feed you keep you modest. Every time she ate, Maya showered Miles with praises, complimenting his talent and how his cooking was becoming more impressive.

Such praise was not without benefits; rather, it was quite effective. Miles, though not very talkative, seemed to enjoy the compliments from Maya.

Who doesn’t enjoy receiving compliments, after all?

After their meal, feeling a bit guilty, Maya went with Miles to wash the dishes.

The kitchen was quite rudimentary, with no sink for washing, and the water they used came from the courtyard well.

The pair didn’t rest for long, as the place was plagued by mosquitoes and lacked any electronic entertainment; staying inside wasn’t much better than staying out in the sun.

This was their fourth day in Stonewell, and it was the longest they’d gone without finding any clues since joining the show.

Just thinking about this made Maya a little impatient. Actually, she had gotten a general direction for finding clues, but based on current progress, getting the return stone seemed elusive.

Before every action, Miles would ask Maya’s opinion: "Senior, how should we proceed this afternoon?"

Maya paused: "I heard Old Man Miller at the east end of the village is harvesting potatoes. Let’s go check it out today."

Miles nodded: "Actually, except for the mosquitoes, life here is quite fulfilling."

Maya nodded: "It is indeed a rather novel experience."

They didn’t chatter on, quickly tidying up before heading out.

"Hey, aren’t you Monroe and Wallace?"

A woman in her thirties approached, carrying two fans.

Maya took a couple of steps forward: "Where are you going? Want me to help you carry one?"

The woman smiled warmly: "You’re just in time, I was about to bring the fans over to you. The weather varies greatly here, and the noon sun is unbelievably harsh."

Maya was slightly surprised and took a look at the fans, which were brand new: "Thank you, sister-in-law, but we really don’t need such large items, you should take them back."

They’d received plenty of fruits and vegetables, but it was the first time someone brought fans.

"Don’t be shy, don’t be shy," the woman insisted, pushing the fan into her hands as if determined not to give up: "These are extra in our house, just sitting unused, might as well give them to you."

Maya took it and thanked her.

Who keeps so many fans at home? Looking at the woman’s eagerness as if completing a mission, Maya instantly understood a bit.

Someone must have arranged this.

The subsequent events further confirmed Maya’s suspicions.

The moment they settled the fans at home, villagers came by delivering mosquito repellent and bottled water.

Then came wave after wave of villagers bringing warmth. When they saw the branded bath products and premium beef, Maya couldn’t remain calm.

The table was piled high with goods, daily necessities, and various food items; there were even some electrical appliances.