For the first time, Baby Daddy Battle premiered on Fruit TV, and the moment the episode ended, Director Zhang Daxi and the official show account were instantly flooded with comments.
While the viewers howled about how good it was and how they couldn’t get enough of their beloved little girl, they also cursed the director and the production team for being heartless—refusing to release everything at once, cutting off the episode at the most crucial moment and making everyone itch with frustration.
“Pah! If not for my baby I wouldn’t even watch this show!”
“Trash production team, acting all high and mighty!”
New pages of comments refreshed every few seconds, all of them scolding them, yet Zhang Daxi was smiling like a blooming flower in front of the backstage monitor!
He watched as the ratings, which had started at a high 1.0, shot upward, changing nearly every second. After the broadcast began, they soared triumphantly—1.5, then 1.8—and by the end, they had climbed to an astonishing 2.1!
What did a 2.1 rating even mean?
In the current variety-show landscape, the top shows on major TV stations rarely reached 1, hovering around 0.8–0.9 most of the time.
The highest-rated program on Fruit TV before this had already been taken off the air. Its ratings dropped due to lack of novelty, surpassed by a competitor. It lost the number one spot, then even lost the second, often ranking third or fourth.
Fruit TV had been stewing in frustration. Zhang Daxi wasn’t the only one who pinned hopes on this show—the station executives were even more desperate to produce another hit variety show and reclaim the top spot.
Times were different now. Years ago, entertainment shows were few, audiences weren’t picky, and any variety program could easily gain traction.
But now? Variety shows came in endless forms, and audiences had long been spoiled—their standards were sky-high, and they wouldn’t click into a show easily.
Last week’s top variety show was Love at First Sight, a dating program on rival Hai Jiang TV—handsome men, pretty women, constant laughs, very appealing to viewers.
Since its launch, Love at First Sight had consistently performed well, leading ratings with an average of 0.86 and peaking at 0.9 last week.
With that in mind, what did their peak rating of 2.1 represent?
Without exaggeration: as long as the production team didn’t self-sabotage, and the season continued smoothly, this would become a phenomenon-level reality show!
Not only in variety shows—even in the entire entertainment sphere, few TV dramas nowadays broke past 2 in ratings.
Zhang Daxi quickly instructed the staff, “Gather all the statistics—average ratings, highest rating time-slots, everything. This will be precious experience in the future!”
This was his first time producing a show, and he still wasn’t very familiar with everything. He was feeling his way through the dark. Fortunately, he had thickened his skin and begged King Zhu and his daughter to participate. Otherwise, his program might not have beaten Director Zhao’s dating show.
Zhang Daxi silently thanked his own sharp eyes countless times.
On Weibo, the father-daughter duo were once again sent to the trending topics.
#MovieKingZhuSellingVeggiesWithDaughter
#BabyDropsHerDisguise
#MovieKingZhuIsActuallyAHiddenHacker
#BabyDaddyBattle
The first three hashtags were pushed up by furious yet enthusiastic viewers, fans, and mothers. The last one was the production team once again shamelessly riding off the father-daughter duo’s popularity, barely squeezing into the top ten.
As they watched the heat rising nonstop, the production staff were flushed with excitement. Even though they worked overtime late into the night, not a single person felt sleepy.
This show, which was clearly about to explode in popularity, had been created by them. The station would definitely hand out big bonuses later—and even if they left in the future, this would be a dazzling highlight on their résumés!
Meanwhile, viewers and mommy-fans who watched the episode were suffering from emotional distress—stuck at the cliffhanger, unable to move on. They felt like sending razor blades to the production team if the show dared not release more.
After storming the official accounts to scold the “garbage director,” some mommy-fans went back to rewatch the episode.
“The first time I only watched my baby Yin. I didn’t catch the show rules at all. I’ll rewatch it!”
“Wuwuwu, my little girl is too adorable! Seeing her face every problem with optimism was so moving. Even when her dad didn’t draw the big house, she didn’t get upset—she genuinely felt happy with that little pink tent. She worked so hard selling veggies too. Watching her trying so earnestly makes me feel like even working overtime tomorrow won’t be so bad. I can do this!”
“I love my Yin!”
“I’m calling it—the auntie will recognize her, smirk evilly, and go, ‘I’ll take all these vegetables!’”
“233333 the person upstairs is a genius!”
Among the comments, there were also several “old cadre–style” replies—using the most basic emojis and stiff, proper wording, unlike how young people talked.
Li Da helplessly watched his own empress-dowager-like mother clutching her phone and fighting online battles. She wouldn’t sleep, and wouldn’t let anyone else sleep either—dragging her husband to help cheer for their little girl. Their son didn’t want to interfere—after all, if he wanted to be a filial son, he needed to treat their precious granddaughter well!
Li Da: “…”
He felt like he was about to go insane. The show aired once a week; at this rate, every Saturday in their household would be chaos.
Mama Li was still unsatisfied. She scolded the director on Weibo until he was metaphorically covered in blood, complaining that since the show provided four houses, why did their little girl end up without a place to stay?
Just evil. Too evil!
Recently she learned plenty from her group of online “old sisters.” To make the little girl more well-known, they had to keep cheering for her online. The sisters said—online popularity mattered. The more people who knew her, the more famous she’d become.
Not only Mama Li—Yin Yin’s mommy-fan club was extremely active. Half the group consisted of women in their thirties or older, proudly calling themselves “Mama fans.” Usually they would’ve been asleep at this hour, but that night, they stayed awake past midnight.
The next morning, Zhang Daxi was called into the station director’s office. The director spoke to him earnestly for half an hour, patted his shoulder, and told him to seize this moment and secure the show’s dominance.
The director squinted and said, “Based on your report, all the trending topics revolve around Zhu Ji and his daughter. Think of a way to sign them for season two. Whatever the price, get them.”
Zhang Daxi regretted his decisions—if only he had signed them for more than one season earlier. If he had secured two or three seasons upfront, he wouldn’t have to worry now.
While Zhang Daxi struggled in regret, someone else rewatched last night’s show and remembered an industry rumor circulating that morning. They became thoughtful.
Director Zhao, who had worked in variety shows for over a decade, wasn’t discouraged by a single failure. He had long been watching the reality show that toppled him.
He heard earlier than most that the show’s peak rating reached 2.1, with an average of 1.88—almost hitting 2. His thoughts began to stir, and his previously vague idea became clearer.
When his dating show failed to air in the prime time slot, his months of preparation were wasted. He went back and studied Zhang Daxi’s program carefully.
With his years of professional experience, Director Zhao concluded that while the format was fresh, the main reason for its explosive success was that lovable three-year-old child.
But in the next season, if the cast changed, would the show still stay that hot? Especially after such an explosive first season—if the child who carried the show left, how would audiences react?
And Director Zhao heard that the child hadn’t signed on for season two…
If Zhang Daxi couldn’t find another child who could maintain this level of popularity, the show would likely start strong and end weak. The better the start, the more painful the decline.
This was the double-edged sword of relying on a single star.
Director Zhao learned his lesson. A spark lit in his mind—what if he produced a personal reality show centered solely around the nation’s beloved little girl?
Those fans on Weibo were screaming to see the child. King Zhu didn’t seem interested in opening an official social media account for her. If Zhao made a show just about the little girl—no script, just her daily life—wouldn’t the fans go insane?
Think about it: those fans had been able to push Baby Daddy Battle’s vote count past one hundred million just for her. If the show featured only Zhu Yinying, the fans would be ecstatic!
Even viewers who weren’t fans would watch such a cute, fun child to relax.
Director Zhao rewatched every video related to Zhu Yinying.
While watching, he completely forgot his original purpose—he watched all the way to the end before remembering he was supposed to be studying the rival show.
But his eyes only grew brighter. If a professional like him got completely pulled in, how could ordinary viewers resist? This proved just how naturally gifted the three-year-old girl was for variety shows.
Director Zhao no longer worked at Fruit TV. He had never been their full-time staff anyway—he would have signed a contract only if his show succeeded. After it failed, he left and accepted an invitation from rival Hai Jiang TV.
If he could produce a show starring the movie king’s daughter alone, and invite her as the main guest, then once it succeeded, he would establish himself firmly at Hai Jiang TV.
That morning, the atmosphere at Hai Jiang TV was gloomy. The executives’ brows were knotted tightly. No one dared speak aloud, afraid of provoking their anger.
Their long-standing rival, Fruit TV, had made a comeback. The ratings were terrifyingly high—more than double their own flagship show. It was infuriating.
Sitting in his office, Director Zhao picked up a pen and wrote a proposal.
Two hours later, he knocked on the deputy station director’s door.
“A live-streamed web variety show?”
Hai Jiang TV had resources and money. They also operated a streaming site, just like Fruit TV’s Banana Video.
Director Zhao said, “I researched it. The main popularity of Fruit TV’s program comes from Zhu Ji’s daughter. They didn’t sign her for season two—that’s our opportunity.”
“I’m referencing the rising trend of livestream platforms and proposing a personal livestream variety show. Then we can edit highlights into episodes for TV broadcast. They will complement each other.”
…
Director Zhao stayed in the office for a full hour before leaving, expression relaxed and full of confidence.
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I... I just realized.. Ive mispelled yinying's name the entire time 💀
I.. I didn't notice the g! 😭
I beg for thee mercy, yinying! Mama-fans! 🧎