After Swapping Bodies with the Movie Queen, She Ended Up with Me (GL) - Chapter 24

Mu Lingwan turned her head to look at the person beside her. After a morning out, Rong Qing’s makeup had faded somewhat, dark circles now evident under her eyes as she slept soundly against Mu Lingwan’s shoulder. Just as Mu Lingwan was about to speak, the car jolted again, prompting her to quickly pull Rong Qing into her arms, shielding her head.

“Sorry, there was a rock back there,” the driver whispered an apology. Through the rearview mirror, he saw Mu Lingwan protectively cradling Rong Qing’s head before shooting him an annoyed glance.

Her eyes were filled with impatience, her expression clearly displeased.

“Drive slower,” Mu Lingwan said, holding Rong Qing close. “No more bumps.”

The driver hunched his shoulders slightly and murmured, “Understood,” before discreetly adjusting the camera mounted on the rearview mirror. Unaware, Mu Lingwan lowered her gaze to Rong Qing sleeping in her arms, guessing she must have had poor rest these past couple of days. After walking all morning, exhaustion had likely overtaken her in the car.

Mu Lingwan draped her coat over Rong Qing’s shoulders and studied her intently.

The eye bags were pronounced, her complexion lackluster.

Gently, Mu Lingwan brushed her fingertips over Rong Qing’s cheeks, her eyes lingering on the sides of her nose. She wondered what foundation the makeup artist had used that morning—Rong Qing’s makeup had settled into fine lines.

Even the eyebrows weren’t done particularly well—too flat, making Rong Qing look as if she were sulking.

Mu Lingwan blinked slowly, suddenly recalling the early days when their relationship had shifted. Rong Qing had sat on the sofa, nervously wringing her hands, watching Mu Lingwan argue with Zhou Ying with a helpless expression, her brows tightly knit in pitiful distress.

“Say what you mean. Why so much sulking?” Mu Lingwan murmured under her breath, smoothing her thumb over Rong Qing’s brow bone.

Then she remembered the microphones were recording. Pressing her lips together, she lifted her head, propping her chin on one hand as she gazed out the window—while the other arm remained firmly wrapped around Rong Qing’s waist.

The car crawled along, taking over forty minutes to reach the villa. The driver had barely hit 20 mph—even the stray dogs on the roadside outpaced them.

By the time they arrived, the furniture delivery truck was already there, workers hauling items inside.

Rong Qing woke in a daze. As she sat up, something slid off her shoulders—Mu Lingwan’s coat, the very one she’d worn that morning.

Clutching the white garment, Rong Qing stared blankly. The car was empty, the door shut, the AC circulating a gentle breeze. Outside, crew members bustled about.

Had she… fallen asleep?

Hugging the coat, Rong Qing pushed the door open. Qu Xiaojing had been waiting nearby and hurried over with a bottle of water. “Teacher Mu, have some water.”

Rong Qing took a sip to moisten her throat before asking, “Where is everyone? Why was I alone in the car?”

Qu Xiaojing explained, “You fell asleep on the way back. Since filming had to continue, Teacher Rong Qing let you rest here while she went upstairs to work. She asked me to keep an eye on you.”

Nodding, Rong Qing handed back the water. “Where is she now?”

“Upstairs, arranging the new room.”

“I’ll go take a look.”

After a nap, Rong Qing felt much more refreshed—at least the sun no longer appeared green as it had in the morning. Still, she was a bit groggy upon waking, disoriented as if unsure what year it was.

The villa was now bustling with people. Aside from the production crew, there were also staff from the furniture store. They had purchased quite a few items that morning, and the store manager had sent them over in a van. Eager to advertise on the show, he had even brought along several workers to help set everything up.

With the cameramen, director, and assistant director all packed inside, the room was crowded to the brim.

Mu Lingwan stood by the wall, holding a cup of coffee as she observed the busy scene. Spotting Rong Qing out of the corner of her eye, she casually remarked, “Awake now?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Rong Qing lingered at the doorway, watching the swarm of people making beds, folding sheets, and applying wallpaper. The flurry of activity made her feel oddly out of place. Clutching Mu Lingwan’s coat, she asked blankly, “What’s going on here?”

“Home renovation,” Mu Lingwan replied.

“Does home renovation require this many people?”

“We’re paying customers. Good service is expected.”

“…”

Rong Qing found it hard to believe. They had only bought soft furnishings—aside from a mattress, there was hardly any need for so many workers. Bedding sets were one thing, but why did even the placement of vases and photo walls require staff assistance?

Used to handling everything herself, Rong Qing felt strangely idle just waiting for others to finish the work.

“Shouldn’t we help?” She gestured toward the room.

Mu Lingwan considered this, surveying the progress. The wallpaper was halfway up, the mattress laid out, the photo wall hung, and the sofa and floor lamp positioned. Only the bedding, duvet covers, and storage boxes for the wardrobe remained.

It was time to pitch in.

“Everyone, take a break. We’ll handle the rest,” Mu Lingwan set her coffee down on the newly bought side table and addressed the group. “Thank you all—please wait downstairs.”

The moment the workers noticed Rong Qing at the door, they swarmed her for autographs and photos. Flustered, she obliged each request, exhaling in relief once they finally left.

Thankfully, she had practiced Mu Lingwan’s signature—otherwise, she would have been exposed.

“Alright, time to get to work.” Mu Lingwan tied up her long hair and rolled up her sleeves, eyeing the half-finished wallpaper. She turned to Rong Qing. “Come help me with this.”

Rong Qing quickly set down the coat and rolled up her sleeves, joining in.

The wallpaper was a deep emerald green, and under the warm glow of the floor lamp, it exuded a vintage charm, as if transporting them back to the last century.

Mu Lingwan had watched the workers apply the wallpaper swiftly, but now that it was her turn, she fumbled awkwardly. Rong Qing stepped in, and together, they managed to finish one wall after half an hour of painstaking effort.

“Should we do the ceiling too?” Rong Qing asked, tilting her head up.

“Forget about the roof,” Mu Lingwan said, following her gaze upward before giving up on the idea. She started unpacking the new bedding set, about to shake it out and spread it on the bed when Rong Qing suddenly stopped her with an “Eh!”

“How can we use a brand-new bedding set right away?” Rong Qing tugged at the cotton sheets. “I’ll wash and sun-dry them first. We should be careful with things that touch our skin.”

“Why bother with all that trouble?” Mu Lingwan frowned. “Washing and drying will take until tomorrow.”

Rong Qing smiled. “That’s why I’ll handle it. The quilt needs sunning, and so do the pillows. The weather forecast says the next couple of days will be perfect for drying bedding.” She then asked, “How about I take our quilts out to sun them too?”

Mu Lingwan raised an eyebrow but didn’t refuse.

Watching Rong Qing run up and down the stairs with armfuls of bedding, Mu Lingwan leaned against the second-floor railing, resting her chin in her hands. She observed Rong Qing bending over, pouring detergent into the washing machine, then dashing up and down again with the quilts.

It really did feel like the two of them were living together.

Mu Lingwan’s expression faltered slightly. She quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts and turned away to continue her work.

The villa’s lawn was spacious—perfect for drying bedding, Rong Qing thought. With two clothes racks set up on the wide lawn, all the quilts could bask in the sunlight.

She looked up at the sun, calculating that three hours of drying time before sunset would be sufficient.

To prevent the quilts from blowing away, Rong Qing secured them firmly with clips.

Inside the living room, the director watched Rong Qing bustling about and listened to the clattering sounds of Mu Lingwan hammering something upstairs. Scrolling through the comments on his tablet, his expression darkened.

“This show is getting boring. Why do they keep focusing on Mu Lingwan and Rong Qing? There’s zero chemistry between them.”

“Xu Qing’s segment is the same—just her and her assistant acting like boss and subordinate. I wanted to see a popular singer and her clingy assistant. Where’s the fun in this?”

“Only Ming Qiao and Shen Nian have some interaction, but even that feels stiff, like they barely know each other.”

“If these are the only guests, I’m dropping the show. It’s so dull.”

Similar complaints filled the feed. After the initial buzz from Mu Lingwan’s confrontation with the director, the show’s ratings had plummeted—today’s viewership was nearly half of the first two days.

“Audiences these days have no patience,” the assistant director remarked, watching Rong Qing fluff the quilts. “I actually think Mu Lingwan and Rong Qing are a good pair—just lacking more interaction.”

The director agreed. The bigger issue was Mu Lingwan and Rong Qing covering the cameras at night. With Mu Lingwan as the show’s main draw, failing to capture intimate moments between them would only drive viewers away. He needed a solution.

“Let’s arrange something for tonight,” the director said to his team. “We need to spice things up.”

“You mean… bring in a surprise guest early?”

“Besides, we need to arrange some other things as well.”

The director looked at Rong Qing on the lawn and said, “Didn’t Shen Nian pull Teacher Mu aside to talk about something yesterday? Let’s take out all the footage we captured and edit it into something big.”