After Swapping Bodies with the Movie Queen, She Ended Up with Me (GL) - Chapter 45

Rong Qing’s tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes as she cried. Mu Lingwan found it both amusing and heartbreaking—why was this person crying harder than herself when she was the one sharing her own story?

Mu Lingwan wiped the tears from Rong Qing’s face and leaned in to whisper, “How are you feeling right now?”

“Wah, I think Ming Qiao is so awful. You’re so pitiful,” Rong Qing sniffled, grabbing a tissue from Mu Lingwan’s hand to blow her nose.

Mu Lingwan asked further, “And besides that?”

“I’m also really angry,” Rong Qing said. “You treated her so well, why would she do this to you? You helped her, yet she still wanted to harm you. If you hadn’t pulled yourself together back then, would I not be able to see you now?”

“Pretty much,” Mu Lingwan replied.

The more Rong Qing thought about it, the more upset she felt. She lowered her head, rubbing her reddened eyes, and said, “You should have told me. Then I could have helped you vent properly on the show—at the very least, I wouldn’t have spoken to her.”

The thought that she had occasionally exchanged words with Ming Qiao during “Heartbeat Moment” made Rong Qing feel even more miserable.

Mu Lingwan looked at her with amusement, wiping away her tears as she said, “Remember this feeling. This is the emotion you should show when you see Chu Xiangjun later.”

Rong Qing looked up at her blankly.

“Pain, resentment, yet unable to forget the past you shared—that’s the emotion they should have when they meet again.” Mu Lingwan spoke calmly. “They were once close friends, but unknowingly, they ended up on diverging paths.”

Mu Lingwan continued, “When they meet again, all that remains is the deepest calm.”

Rong Qing stared at her for a long moment before nodding solemnly.

When they got out of the car, everyone was shocked to see Rong Qing’s smudged makeup from crying. The makeup artist quickly took her away for touch-ups, while Zhou Ying approached Mu Lingwan with a conflicted expression. After a long pause, she finally advised, “Actually, she’s been acting pretty well. You didn’t have to make her cry, did you?”

Mu Lingwan sighed.

After Rong Qing returned from makeup and resumed filming, her performance in front of the camera was exceptionally good. Even the director was surprised, murmuring an approving “Hmm” before leaning closer to the monitor, gesturing for the camera to follow.

After one flawless take, even Ge Dong noticed Rong Qing’s remarkable improvement and couldn’t help saying after the shoot, “You seem to be in much better form. I almost couldn’t keep up with you earlier.”

Rong Qing was still immersed in that melancholic mood. When Ge Dong spoke to her, it took her a while to react. She stared blankly for a long moment before finally snapping out of it.

“Huh? Oh, thank you. You worked hard too.”

Ge Dong gave her a strange look before nodding slightly and walking away.

During the lunch break, Rong Qing remained in low spirits. She sat in the car, picking at her food without much appetite—her recent dieting had left her uninterested in eating. After a few bites, she gave up and started gulping down her iced coffee.

“Don’t drink too much cold stuff,” Mu Lingwan said, sitting beside her.

“Mmm,” Rong Qing replied, clutching the thermos filled with the iced latte her assistant Xiao Qu had bought earlier. The bitter taste, which she had initially disliked, had grown familiar after drinking it so often.

Mu Lingwan gazed out at the sunny sky, watching as large clouds shifted shapes with the wind, visibly drifting toward them at a steady pace.

“We finished early this afternoon, let’s take a stroll by the wheat fields,” Mu Lingwan said, gazing out the window. “In a few days when they harvest, there won’t be anything left to see.”

Rong Qing followed her gaze. The sky was exceptionally clear today, with wild geese tracing arcs across the heavens—it looked just like those beautiful autumn oil paintings.

“Alright,” Rong Qing nodded softly. “We can stop by after filming wraps up.”

Since it was just test shooting, the only person available for scenes opposite Rong Qing was Ge Dong. By around 3 PM, they’d finished filming. The director reviewed the footage with growing satisfaction and said to Rong Qing, “That’s a wrap. Teacher Mu, care to join me for a drink?”

Rong Qing didn’t drink. When the director made the offer, she was still removing her makeup. She blinked slightly and replied, “Sorry Director Ren, I already have plans.”

Director Ren slapped his forehead belatedly with an awkward laugh. “Right, right. Another time then. You two go enjoy your date.”

Relieved to have dodged the invitation, Rong Qing finished removing her makeup just as Mu Lingwan approached, already changing clothes. “You’re here?” she asked.

“Mhm,” Mu Lingwan waved the makeup artist away and began helping Rong Qing change herself.

Historical costumes were complicated to put on and even more so to remove, but Mu Lingwan seemed practiced at it. Starting with the waistband, she gradually loosened the garments while making casual conversation. “Zhou Ying had something come up and went back first. I’ll drive you to the wheat fields later.”

Rong Qing smiled. “Great! I want to take photos and post them on Weibo.”

Mu Lingwan countered, “Photos are fine, but skip Weibo—too much hassle.”

“It’s no trouble. I have a private account we can use.”

“Then why not just post to Moments?”

Mu Lingwan leaned closer to undo the hidden clasp at Rong Qing’s collar. “At least Moments only shows to people we know. Who knows what kind of comments you’d get on Weibo.”

Catching a whiff of Mu Lingwan’s faint lemon scent, Rong Qing’s face flushed pink. With a soft “Mhm,” she met Mu Lingwan’s eyes and chuckled. “Alright, we’ll post to Moments then.”

Once changed, Mu Lingwan helped Rong Qing into a hat, mask, and sunglasses before donning her own mask. They left together, with Mu Lingwan driving a detour to the nearby wheat fields—neatly divided into perfect rectangular plots like freshly cut tofu blocks.

Many film crews shot here, and as they stepped out of the car, they could see small groups scattered about filming.

An autumn breeze stirred the wheat into undulating waves, carrying the distinctive fragrance of ripened grain.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Rong Qing said, standing on the soft earth of the field’s edge. She turned to Mu Lingwan and extended her hand. “Come on, let’s go look over there.”

Mu Lingwan eyed the muddy black soil with reluctance—her shoes today weren’t cheap. But Rong Qing’s expectant expression won out. After a brief hesitation, Mu Lingwan took her hand and stepped onto the ridge.

Hand in hand they walked through the fields, the rustling wind in their ears and warmth clasped between their palms.

“Here, this spot looks nice.” Rong Qing took out her phone and stood beside Mu Lingwan, asking, “How about taking the photo here?”

Mu Lingwan nodded. As she watched Rong Qing raise the phone, she placed a hand on her waist. Rong Qing froze for a moment, looking up at her in confusion.

“Acting requires full commitment. Even pretending to be a couple has to look natural,” Mu Lingwan said, eyeing her. “What couple posts stiff ID photo-like pictures on social media?”

Rong Qing found her reasoning sound and leaned in closer, raising the phone high.

Click—

The camera captured the moment. Rong Qing opened the photo and examined it repeatedly—the golden wheat fields and blue sky in the background, with her and Mu Lingwan gazing at the lens, appearing intimately close.

They looked just like a pair of young lovers.

“I’ll send you a copy too,” Rong Qing said, tapping her screen to forward it to Mu Lingwan.

Mu Lingwan opened the photo on her phone, zoomed in, and lingered on their faces pressed close together. Glancing up at Rong Qing beside her, she noticed the girl was already posting a few scenic shots without people on her social media. Quietly, Mu Lingwan saved the photo to her gallery.

After the photoshoot, the two wandered around the area before heading home as the sun began to set.

No sooner had they arrived than Zhou Ying called. Mu Lingwan answered after a glance. “What’s up?”

“You two went out this afternoon?” Zhou Ying said over the phone. “Someone spotted you in the wheat fields, and it’s trending again. The comments and public sentiment are positive, so I pushed it a bit—show off the affection.”

Rong Qing, sitting on the stool to change shoes, asked, “Who is it? Something important?”

Mu Lingwan nodded. “Our date made it to the hot searches.”

Rong Qing froze, her face flushing involuntarily. She stood up. “What do we do?”

“Don’t worry,” Mu Lingwan reassured her. “I’ll have Zhou Ying handle it.”

“Alright,” Rong Qing said after a pause, realizing she couldn’t help much. “I’ll go make dinner then.”

Once Rong Qing left, Mu Lingwan told Zhou Ying, “No need to overdo the affection. Let it flow naturally. Just steer the narrative slightly—no need to intervene beyond that.”

Zhou Ying acknowledged and was about to hang up when Mu Lingwan stopped her.

“What now?”

“…” Mu Lingwan hesitated for a few seconds before asking, “Send me the contact of that master you mentioned last time. I have something to ask.”

“Huh? Oh, sure. I’ll forward it shortly. Anything else?”

“No.”

Shortly after hanging up, Zhou Ying sent over a contact. Mu Lingwan opened it—the profile picture was the kind of selfie middle-aged men favored: a master in a red Taoist robe against a drab temple backdrop, the username reading: The Great Dao to Simplicity.

Everything about it screamed “ordinary middle-aged man.”

After adding the contact, the master quickly accepted the request and greeted her casually.

Master: “Does the seeker have a query?”

Staring at the message, Mu Lingwan typed and deleted for over ten minutes before finally replying with a single word: “No.” She then turned off her phone, refusing to look further. Watching Rong Qing busy herself cooking shrimp in the kitchen, she felt a pang of absurdity.

Had she really considered believing in such nonsense?

The buzz on Weibo was all about teasing Mu Lingwan and Rong Qing, but since they were already an openly acknowledged couple, no one would bat an eye even if they went on a public date. Besides, trending now could help drum up more attention for the full version of Heartbeat in Progress.

Rong Qing’s freshly posted WeChat Moments was also lively, with crew members from the show she’d previously added all chiming in with likes and comments.

Xu Qing: “So romantic! Where is this? It’s gorgeous!”

Jiang Jiang: “Stunning, both of you are beauties.”

Shen Nian: “Looks like the wheat field at the photography base, doesn’t it? Last time I went, it was still green—now it’s all golden.”

Others left comments or likes, and when Rong Qing opened her Moments, she was greeted by a flood of red notification dots, almost making her think she’d leaked some confidential info. Skimming through the familiar faces’ remarks under the photo, she replied to each one.

To Xu Qing: “It’s a wheat field.”
To Jiang Jiang: “Hehe.”
To Shen Nian: “Yep!”
And so on for the rest.

But when she refreshed the page, she noticed a new comment at the very bottom.

Ming Qiao had just added: “The scenery is beautiful.”