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

The scene was oppressive, suffocating just to look at.

On the left side of the television screen were four words—Beneath the Iceberg—the title of this documentary. The person in charge had spent a long time deliberating over the name. Initially, it was called Watching the Sea, but it didn’t feel quite right. Several other titles were considered before finally settling on Beneath the Iceberg.

The metaphor was clear—what we see is merely the tip of the iceberg. What they filmed was also just a fraction of the truth. The real state of the marine environment, the endangered animals, and so much more lay hidden beneath the surface.

In the documentary, both Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu wore gloves—milky-white rubber gloves. The moment they dipped their hands into the water, the gloves were instantly stained blue.

Their brows remained furrowed the entire time, a testament to how unbearable the smell of the paint was.

A voiceover explained, "The fumes from the paint pollute the ocean, damaging the marine environment. Though both are blue, compared to the source of life, this is nothing but pure contamination."

Everywhere the eye could see was covered in blue paint. The sea’s surface reflected the cold, unnatural sheen of the paint, devoid of any signs of life. Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu used machines to clean the paint, section by section, across the waters.

By the end, they discovered a massive paint barrel floating on the surface—the source of the pollution in this area. When the lid was opened, the stench was overwhelming.

Inside the barrel lay two dead fish, their bellies and tails stained blue, their eyes wide open. The pollution had caused severe harm, and this was only the tip of the iceberg.

No one spoke in the footage. Only the sound of waves could be heard. The sky was overcast—it was December, the coldest time of the year. The two women in the video kept their heads down as they cleaned the paint from the water’s surface. Yu Wanqiu’s hair was still short, tousled by the wind.

In the last twenty minutes of the video, the narration detailed the dangers of the paint. By the end, viewers were shown a restored, pristine stretch of ocean.

Sunlight broke through the clouds, waves lapped against the shore, and seabirds soared overhead. The forty-minute documentary came to a close.

Most of the footage consisted of wide shots—the sea, the sky, the surrounding clouds. In this documentary, Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu were not the protagonists. The true stars were the ocean and nature itself—enduring hardship, suffering wounds, and slowly regaining vitality with human intervention.

There were four episodes in total. The preview for the next episode hinted at more rescues—sea turtles in need, the breathtaking yet destructive bioluminescent seas, a family of polar bears on the glaciers, and the dazzling auroras.

There were no dramatic plot twists, no elaborate costumes or makeup—just simplicity at its core.

As soon as it aired, the show received a rating of 8.6 on Douban from over 20,000 viewers and trended on Weibo with two hashtags.

Fans missed Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu dearly. No matter how many new idols they followed afterward, Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu remained their favorite duo.

Yu Wanqiu hadn’t made a public appearance in a while. The last time was after returning from filming Salute, after which she kept a low profile.

She posted a Weibo update on New Year’s Day, but since then, neither paparazzi nor gossip accounts had any information about her activities.

Jiang Lan had also been absent from the public eye.

Some Tsinghua University students posted in the "Lanzhou Lamian" (a fan nickname for Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu) supertopic, mentioning that they often spotted Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng in the library or study halls.

Jiang Lan’s daily routine revolved around the library, cafeteria, and dormitory—a simple three-point cycle. Lu Yicheng followed a similar schedule, though he occasionally went to the company. For over two months since the New Year, this was how the two had been dating.

Seeing Jiang Lan like this, who had the energy to binge-watch dramas? With college entrance exams and high school entrance exams approaching, everyone was buckling down to study. Still, fans hoped their favorite duo would thrive for years to come.

Gossip accounts, eager to capitalize on the hype, posted blurry photos of questionable origin:

[Entertainment New Gossip: Lanzhou Lamian reunites to spread sweetness, joining forces as volunteers for the Marine Animal Protection Association! #ProtectTheOceanWithLanzhouLamian# Let’s all watch Beneath the Iceberg together! #EnvironmentalProtectionIsEveryone’sDuty# Both are in great shape—who says only romance is sweet? Friendship can be just as heartwarming! I declare this the sweetest duo I’ve ever shipped! [Image]]

The post was clearly chasing clout, saying whatever fans wanted to hear. While it might have seemed cringeworthy to outsiders, Lanzhou Lamian fans adored it.

Finally, someone with taste! If you love Lanzhou Lamian too, we’re instant friends.

But then, People’s Daily reposted it.

[People’s Daily: Strive to be positive influencers, strive to be exemplary youth. Protecting the environment is everyone’s responsibility. //@Entertainment New Gossip: Lanzhou Lamian…]

Shortly after, Communist Youth League also shared the post.

[Communist Youth League Central: As young people, we should take pride in protecting the environment and feel ashamed to harm it. Let’s be civilized youths. //@People’s Daily: Strive to be positive influencers… //@Entertainment New Gossip: Lanzhou Lamian…]

At this point, the gossip account could only wonder—Is it too late to delete this post?

Deleting it outright was impossible, but they did scrub many of their older posts. As an entertainment gossip account, being noticed by People’s Daily and Communist Youth League was a first.

From now on, they vowed to reform—to spread positivity and be a wholesome influencer.

They almost felt like enshrining Jiang Lan and Yu Wanqiu. It wasn’t easy for a ship to gain this level of recognition.

This also reflected the authorities’ approval of the two.

For Yu Wanqiu, reaching her current status meant the road ahead was even tougher. It was like climbing a mountain—once you reach the summit, there’s nowhere higher to go. She had already won all the awards there were to win, gained countless fans through variety shows, and enjoyed an impeccable public image. She had both skill and confidence.

Her career was flourishing, her family life harmonious, and she was soon to become a mother-in-law.

At her level, the only way up was to build her own ladder.

And then, out of nowhere, People’s Daily praised her as a "positive influence"—an actor, not an idol or entertainer. It was a professional affirmation.

The praise for Jiang Lan carried weight too—positive, civilized. These two words alone could silence many haters.

After Mother-in-Law is Coming aired, Jiang Lan gained many fans, but she also attracted a fair share of detractors. At first, she didn’t dare check Weibo—her inbox was flooded with hate.

Gold-digger. Hypocrite. Bootlicker. A rich family’s lapdog.

Over time, her fanbase grew loud enough to drown out most of the negativity, but dislike was dislike. Jiang Lan adopted the mindset that if she didn’t see it, it wasn’t directed at her. In a way, these two reposts shut a lot of mouths.

[I’m ecstatic for all three of us!]

[My wives are making me proud, sniff sniff.]

[Double-checked—it’s really People’s Daily and Communist Youth League!]

[Other fans flex their idols’ magazine covers and luxury endorsements. Meanwhile, my idols are out here doing PSAs, documentaries, and tribute films.]

[Before, when I fangirled, my mom threatened to break my legs. Now? Her: Who? Lanzhou Lamian? Oh, carry on.]

[HAHAHAHAHAHA I can’t with you guys.]

【We should really protect the environment. Whoever threw paint buckets into the ocean, I swear to XXXX them!】

【What idiots, doing things that harm others without benefiting themselves...】

【They should all be arrested.】

【Throwing paint buckets into the sea? That’s practically criminal.】

【There are still three episodes left, forty minutes each. Later, they’ll go to the Arctic—those polar bear cubs are so adorable!】

【Going to the Arctic this season takes some serious courage.】

【Though my contribution may be small, I’ll still do my part to protect the environment.】

【Learning from my idol, wuwuwu!】

【I love the phrase "positive energy." Idol, idol, I’m so proud of you!】

【Another day of shipping sweetness, hahaha—officially recognized friendship!】

【My OTP is the sweetest in the world. Lanzhou Lamian (Jiang Lan x Yu Wanqiu) is real—I’ve said it a hundred times already!】

【Three more episodes left! More content to enjoy. One episode a day means we’ll finish in three days.】

【Watching the bioluminescent sea together, then the aurora—so romantic! My heart can’t take it.】

【Dear heavens, at least give me either Jiang Lan’s brains or Jiang Lan’s looks!】

【Heavens, how will you repay me for what you owe?!】

【After the show ended, there’s been so little content of them together. Zhang Tian, are you even trying?】

【Summer vacation is almost here.】

【Graduate and get married!】

【Exactly! Hurry up with Season 3. I’m about to take the college entrance exams—I hope it airs this summer. Zhang Tian, don’t make me beg on my knees.】

【I’m also taking the exams, but my scores are way below Tsinghua’s cutoff. I won’t aim that high—just a university in Beijing will do.】

【Studying every day is exhausting. This show is my only motivation.】

【Spam the comments with "Zhang Sweetie (Zhang Tian) is useless."】

【Zhang Tian: Do you have any manners?】

If Mother-in-Law is Coming were an antique, fans would’ve polished it to a shine by now. The Lanzhou Lamian (Jiang Lan x Yu Wanqiu) fandom is fiercely loyal—even after a year, the fan community remains active. But the general audience for the show has dwindled. Soon, even the fans hoping for Season 3 might disappear.

Zhang Tian is indeed planning Season 3.

With technology advancing, the show must evolve too. After reviewing past seasons, Zhang Tian identified several issues. In Season 2, only a few cast members gained popularity—the others’ lives were too mundane.

Take Zhang Lin, for example. Her daily routine consisted of watching movies, taking notes, and weekly prenatal checkups.

Chen Shuyun and others were even more uneventful, dealing with trivial matters.

While fans enjoy glimpses into wealthy lifestyles, too much monotony becomes boring. The "ordinary life" segments barely had any material worth editing.

So, Season 3 won’t just be observational. Zhang Tian plans to increase production interference, adding game segments inspired by other variety shows. Filming won’t be confined to one location—each cast group will move between four different settings over eight episodes.

Zhang Tian also realized that Season 2’s two-month filming period was too long and costly, especially for the cast and crew.

With only two hours of footage making the final cut per week—out of 600+ hours of raw material—he decided to condense filming to weekends, allowing participants to work or study during the week.

This idea came from Jiang Lan.

Jiang Lan is effortlessly romantic—her travels and whimsical ideas always leave people amazed.

Zhang Tian scouted numerous scenic spots, carefully selecting the best to give Season 3 a fresh feel.

Four groups will participate.

One ordinary-life pair has already been cast: Cheng Lixue, a working mom, and her mother-in-law, Chen Yunzhi.

Cheng Lixue has been married for four years and has a three-year-old daughter, Duo Duo.

Childcare is split between Chen Yunzhi and Cheng Lixue’s mother, each taking six-month shifts.

Chen Yunzhi has two children—a son (Cheng Lixue’s husband) and a married daughter with a five-year-old son.

Cheng Lixue feels her mother-in-law favors her nephew over Duo Duo. While she doesn’t expect her in-laws’ resources to go solely to her daughter, the disparity stings.

For instance, Chen Yunzhi buys snacks for her grandson but never for Duo Duo. At meals, the first chicken drumstick always goes to him.

Cheng Lixue watched Mother-in-Law is Coming Season 2 with Chen Yunzhi, hoping to emulate Jiang Lan’s friendly dynamic with Yu Wanqiu. But their personalities clashed.

She’s not forcing a bond, but the favoritism bothers her. How will she explain it to Duo Duo when she’s older?

On top of that, Cheng Lixue faces constant pressure for a second child. It’s exhausting.

She hopes the show will bring positive change.

Zhang Tian also reached out to Zheng Qiu’s wife. Zheng Qiu, nearly 50, has a 23-year-old son who married a little-known actress last year.

His wife, a former actress who retired early, has minimal interaction with her daughter-in-law. She joined the show purely for fame.

Only these two groups are confirmed so far. Zhang Tian reserved spots for Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan, with filming set for summer.

Oddly, Yu Wanqiu hasn’t announced any new projects lately. When asked, she only says she’s "busy." Did she join another show? Why no updates?

In reality, Yu Wanqiu is buried in textbooks. Studying is grueling—her memory isn’t what it used to be. Lu Shuangchen tutors her in science and math, but being academically outshone irks her.

To make it worse, Lu Shuangchen is an earnest teacher, even preparing midnight snacks and fruit platters. Yu Wanqiu can’t bring herself to complain.

Sometimes, she considers quitting. "Maybe I shouldn’t take the exams. I’ll just embarrass myself."

Lu Shuangchen replies, "It’s your choice. I’ll support you either way."

Yu Wanqiu hesitates. Would she regret giving up after months of effort?

Lu Shuangchen grades her practice tests. Her language and English scores are solid; biology is decent, but physics lags. With more work, she could pass.

After a pause, he adds, "But Jiang Lan might be disappointed if you quit."

Yu Wanqiu: "..."

Lu Shuangchen: "You always say she’s your fan. When you announced your plans, she cheered you on. Now, suddenly backing out... Well, as your idol, she’d probably understand."

Lu Shuangchen closed the book. "Anyway, I’ll always understand you and respect your decisions. Jiang Lan probably would too."

He gathered the books on the table. "Alright, let’s stop here."

Yu Wanqiu protested, "Put that down! What are you doing? Who said we’re stopping? I was just making an offhand comment—I never said I wouldn’t keep going."

A good idol should set a positive example for their fans.

Yu Wanqiu wasn’t one to go back on her word.

Lu Shuangchen chuckled. "Then shall we continue? This pulley concept is actually quite simple. If you look at it this way, it’ll make much more sense..."

He resumed flipping through the book and explaining the problems. Here he was, well into his years, still tutoring his wife. If word got out, who would believe it?

Yu Wanqiu might grumble for a moment, but she’d still study what needed to be studied. If Jiang Lan found out she didn’t want to take the exam, she’d surely support her—though she’d probably be a little disappointed.

Jiang Lan was currently preparing for the second round of auditions for the orchestra position, so Yu Wanqiu didn’t want to disturb her. Once the preliminary results were out and she passed the next round, they could celebrate together.

Besides, ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‍Yu Wanqiu had been busy lately, studying until the early hours. Lu Shuangchen still had to go to the company during the day, while she’d get up around 8 a.m. and dive back into her math books.

The least busy person in the household was Lu Yicheng—or so it seemed. But Lu Yicheng felt wronged. Which of his mother’s eyes saw him as idle? Between the company, his graduation thesis, and competing for awards like "Outstanding Student" and "Model Cadre," how could he possibly be free?

Busy as he was, Lu Yicheng still made time to see Jiang Lan. After all, time could always be squeezed out if one tried.

That afternoon, Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng went out for a meal. Afterward, she returned to her dorm and slept from 8 p.m. to past 9. Job hunting was like this—you did your best and left the rest to fate.

Jiang Lan had put in the effort, but after a month-long documentary shoot, the New Year trip back home, and visiting Yu Wanqiu’s family, she hadn’t touched her instrument in over a month. Her fingers felt rusty.

The competition was fierce. If she didn’t pass the preliminary round, it just meant others were better. She’d have to start looking for other jobs.

While job hunting, she waited for the National Symphony Orchestra’s recruitment results. Joining the orchestra was her dream, and Jiang Lan wasn’t ready to give up. From April 2nd to April 8th, her inbox remained empty.

The official website hadn’t posted the list of candidates who passed the preliminary round. Jiang Lan didn’t know if others had received replies, and there were no updates online. If no email arrived by that afternoon, chances were slim she’d made it.

She kept refreshing her inbox, checking every five minutes from morning till night—still nothing.

She even wondered if the email had been flagged as spam and blocked.

By 5:15 p.m., she checked the time again. Office workers usually finished by 5:30. If no email came by then, she’d have to wait until tomorrow.

And tomorrow’s hopes were even slimmer.

Jiang Lan sighed. If she didn’t pass the preliminaries, she’d go work at Chen Ninglei’s studio, find a job, and try again next year.

At 5:20 p.m., still nothing. At 5:25, an email finally arrived—only for it to be a mobile recharge notification. Jiang Lan was on the verge of losing it.

5:29 p.m. Another check. Still nothing.

Fine. There were plenty of talented people out there. Failing the preliminaries just meant she wasn’t good enough.

She called Lu Yicheng. "Let’s go eat."

Lu Yicheng asked, "Did the orchestra reply?"

Jiang Lan said, "No. Probably not happening. I should’ve worked harder. Let’s just go eat. I haven’t had a proper meal or sleep in days waiting for these results. Time for a treat."

Lu Yicheng replied, "Mm. There’s always next time. You’ll make it eventually. I’ll make sure you practice more from now on. What do you feel like eating?"

"BBQ and crayfish!" Jiang Lan applied lipstick in the mirror, changed her shoes, grabbed her bag, and headed out.

Xu Xiang wasn’t in the dorm. She was also busy job hunting and rarely returned. Her replies were slow, making Jiang Lan wonder if she’d gone home to get married.

The two went to their usual night market. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled meat and thirteen-spice seasoning. The street was lined with stalls selling skewers and snacks. Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng picked a spot, ordered barbecue and crayfish, and sat at a small table on low stools to wait.

The place was known for its great flavors and affordability. Everything was cooked right on the street, so you could watch the process—it looked clean enough.

Lu Yicheng pinched Jiang Lan’s cheek. "It’s okay. If not this time, then next."

He didn’t have to job hunt—he’d already joined Lu Yuan. After a stint as an HR interviewer, he’d met many top graduates. Lu Shuangchen had suggested it: seeing how talented others were kept him from becoming complacent.

"I know. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll find something else. It’s just… I didn’t even pass the preliminaries. I thought I’d at least make it that far." Jiang Lan had practiced for over a decade, yet she couldn’t clear the first hurdle.

She felt useless. She’d prepared the audition piece meticulously, recording it multiple times. How much better were the others? Jiang Lan poured herself a beer and one for Lu Yicheng. "There’s always someone better. Yu Wanqiu will be so disappointed."

Yu Wanqiu had always supported her, certain she’d make it, even promising to be her first audience. And now Jiang Lan hadn’t even passed the preliminaries.

Lu Yicheng downed his drink and comforted her, "No way. My mom doesn’t know music. She’d think you’re amazing no matter what you play."

Jiang Lan: "..."

Talking to Lu Yicheng about this was like playing the lute to a cow—he didn’t get it at all.

"Eat up, before it gets cold."

Midway through the meal, Jiang Lan checked her phone. Xu Xiang had sent several voice messages. She played them—the volume was blaring.

"Babe!!! The orchestra posted the list on their website—you passed the preliminaries! First place!"

"Babe, you’re incredible! I’m freaking out! First place! Holy crap, you’re amazing!"

"Mwah mwah, hahaha! Start prepping for the next round!"

Jiang Lan stared at her phone, then at Lu Yicheng, completely stunned.

Lu Yicheng ignored the term of endearment. "You passed?"

Jiang Lan rushed to check the official website. After confirming, she checked her inbox—the email had been sent at 5:35 p.m., just five minutes after she’d left the dorm.

"Lu Yicheng, look! The preliminary acceptance notice!" Her eyes sparkled. She’d really made it—and as the top candidate.

Lu Yicheng read it word by word. "First place. The second round’s on April 11th—three days to prepare."

The next round involved the judges selecting pieces to test her skills on the spot. Unlike the preliminaries, which could be recorded multiple times, live performances didn’t offer do-overs.

Jiang Lan cupped her face. "Praise me! I want a hundred compliments."

Lu Yicheng patted his head. "Let me think. A hundred’s nothing—I’ll rattle them off. You’re amazing, brilliant, I’m trash compared to you..."

Jiang Lan laughed. "Okay, okay, enough. Let’s eat. I should’ve picked a fancier place today!"

Lu Yicheng said, "After the next round—no, no, after you ace it, we’ll go somewhere even better."

The audition was held in the performance hall on the third floor of the B City Concert Hall. After finishing her meal, Jiang Lan took her violin and went to the sports field, practicing every day for three straight days until April 11th arrived.

Lu Yicheng had a meeting today and would come after it ended. Yu Wanqiu was busy studying, so Jiang Lan took a taxi alone.

Truthfully, she felt even more nervous when they accompanied her.

A total of fifteen candidates made it to the audition, with the order based on their preliminary rankings. Jiang Lan was first.

After entering, she introduced herself, and then the judges handed out the test piece.

Six judges sat at the front, each the principal of different sections in the orchestra. The violin piece assigned was Swan Lake. After her performance, the principal cellist asked, "I see you played the cello for your college entrance exam. Do you still play? Would you like to give it a try?"

Jiang Lan had auditioned for the position of violinist, but she wasn’t about to let an extra opportunity slip by.

Her cello piece was Cello Sonata No. 3 and No. 5. Once she finished, the judges told her to wait for the results.

"The audition results will be sent to your email within seven working days. Please be patient." The judge glanced at the assistant and said, "Next."

Jiang Lan bowed and left. She felt fairly satisfied with her performance—the final decision would consider both the preliminary and audition scores. But why had they asked her to play the cello? Did her violin performance fall short?

She couldn’t help worrying, but there was no use dwelling on it now.

Better to treat herself to a good meal.

As soon as she stepped out of the B City Concert Hall, she spotted Lu Yicheng. Next to him stood Yu Wanqiu, a short-haired beauty wearing sunglasses. "Professor Yu! You came too?"

Yu Wanqiu took off her sunglasses and shrugged helplessly. "Couldn’t focus on studying, so I came out for a walk. Let’s grab something to eat?"

Jiang Lan rushed over and hugged her. "I was so nervous just now—I could barely speak! My introduction felt mediocre, and I don’t know if I’ll make it."

Yu Wanqiu believed that some things were simply a matter of doing one’s best and leaving the rest to fate. Still, she wasn’t about to say anything discouraging. "You’ll definitely make it. Let’s not think about it now. Time for good food—I’ll treat you."

Lu Yicheng ruffled Jiang Lan’s hair. "You’ve already cleared the hardest hurdle. That’s amazing enough. Come on, let’s eat. I’ll buy you ice cream too."

Jiang Lan patted her forehead. "You’re right! No more overthinking. Results come out in seven days—good or bad, we’ll know then."

On April 16th, Jiang Lan received the audition results from the National Symphony Orchestra.

The final interview was scheduled for April 18th. The night before, Jiang Lan took a long bath, slathered on fragrant lotion, and prepared for the last step.

Her audition score had also ranked first.

As long as she didn’t say anything wrong during the interview, her spot was practically secured.

She called Xie Yunzhen. "Mom! I passed the audition—listen, the National Symphony Orchestra’s audition! My interview’s the day after tomorrow. This is a government-affiliated position!"

Xie Yunzhen replied, "That’s good, but don’t get too full of yourself. Look at you, practically preening. If you had a tail, it’d be wagging all the way to the sky."

Jiang Lan laughed. "Just for today! Mom, I want roast chicken!"

Xie Yunzhen chuckled. "I’ll have your dad buy some when you get back. Jiang Lan… you really did great."

Eight candidates made it to the final interview, but only four would be selected—a fifty percent chance. On April 18th, Jiang Lan headed to the B City Concert Hall for the last round.

The other candidates were a mix of men and women. Jiang Lan didn’t know them, but they certainly knew her.

First place in both the preliminary and audition rounds—impressive. Some had suspected foul play, but if that were the case, why not just skip the process and place her directly?

All performances were recorded. There was no room for doubt.

After the interview, Jiang Lan exhaled in relief. She slung her instrument case over her shoulder, walked downstairs, and sat on a bench outside the concert hall for a while.

The hall was massive. Standing on that stage, facing six judges—soon, she might be performing for countless audiences.

The results would be announced within three working days.

On April 20th, Jiang Lan received the acceptance email. The official website also posted the results. She needed to complete a medical check-up at a designated hospital—no issue there, as she’d undergone a full examination the previous year for a brain scan.

That same afternoon, her thesis review came back. It had passed the blind review and plagiarism check—just a few revisions based on the feedback. Her advisor said, "Start preparing your presentation."

Her defense was in May, and the graduation performance was scheduled for early May. Only then did Jiang Lan truly feel it—

She was about to…

graduate.