After the Soul Swap Between Love Rival AO - Chapter 2

“Priorities matter. Two hours isn’t too tight,” Song Qiuchi replied calmly.

“Two hours and you’re not nervous?! It takes time to get to the filming location, right? And you need time for hair and makeup, right? Plus, I know nothing about the plot of that movie of yours—what was it called again, April Fool’s Game, right?”

“It’s Fool’s Game,” Song Qiuchi frowned. “You haven’t seen it?”

Who said just because a movie is a blockbuster, everyone has to have watched it? Cheng Luanxin was unapologetic: “Nope, haven’t seen it.”

Song Qiuchi seemed baffled. “The Golden Ear Film Festival’s Best Picture of the Year, and you haven’t seen it?”

Cheng Luanxin shot back, “The Golden Ear Film Festival’s Best Original Score, Against You—have you listened to that?”

Song Qiuchi: “…I’ve heard of it.”

Cheng Luanxin huffed, “Then there you go. Tell me what this movie is about.”

Song Qiuchi lowered her head and sent a message to Cheng Luanxin: “This is the script my agent wrote for me. It includes potential interview questions. Take a look and prepare.”

Cheng Luanxin scrolled down several times but still couldn’t reach the end. The entire page was densely packed with text—just reading it would take ten or twenty minutes, let alone memorizing it.

“I don’t have to memorize this word for word, right? Just the gist is fine, isn’t it?”

Song Qiuchi stared at her. “Assuming you can even get the gist right.”

Cheng Luanxin: “…”

She really felt like giving up.

Song Qiuchi could tell Cheng Luanxin wasn’t reliable. “Forget it, I’ll go with you.”

Half an hour later, the two arrived at the live broadcast venue. The site was divided into several studios, each hosting different recordings and shoots. As a newcomer singer, Cheng Luanxin usually worked in recording studios and rarely found herself in such settings. She couldn’t help but look around curiously.

Song Qiuchi said sternly, “Could you act a little more poised? Don’t look like you’ve never seen the world before.”

Cheng Luanxin: “…”

She took a deep breath and straightened her posture.

The two entered the makeup room. The makeup artist happened to know both of them. At first glance, she said, “Ah, Teacher Song is here! Huh? Luanxin, you’re here too?”

Cheng Luanxin felt a pang of bitterness. Why was Song Qiuchi addressed as “Teacher Song” while she was just “Luanxin”? Didn’t she deserve to be called “Teacher Cheng”?

Song Qiuchi said politely, “I happened to have some free time today and ran into Qiuchi, so I came along with her.”

The makeup artist smiled. “I watched last night’s awards ceremony—congratulations to both of you!”

Song Qiuchi smiled back. “Couldn’t have done it without your support.”

The makeup artist turned to Cheng Luanxin and familiarly pulled out a set of brushes from her kit. “Here, your special brushes. Why didn’t you even put on a base before coming out today?”

Cheng Luanxin felt a little guilty, especially since Song Qiuchi beside her hadn’t neglected her makeup at all. “I woke up a bit late today and was in a hurry, haha…”

“Even if you’re in a hurry, you should at least put on sunscreen. Your skin’s thin—you’ll burn easily.” The makeup artist expertly applied sunscreen to Cheng Luanxin. “Don’t slack off like this in the future.”

Cheng Luanxin puffed out her cheeks. “Oh…”

The makeup artist laughed. “Why do you seem a little off today? Switching to a cute vibe now?”

“Cough, cough…” Song Qiuchi, who was drinking water nearby, nearly choked.

Cheng Luanxin hurriedly said, “No, no, what vibe? Haven’t I always been like this?”

As she spoke, she frantically shot glances at Song Qiuchi.

Song Qiuchi wagged her index finger in front of her chest, signaling for her to stop talking.

Fortunately, the makeup artist didn’t say much more. Having worked on Song Qiuchi’s makeup many times, she was very familiar with the contours of her face and quickly finished the look.

Cheng Luanxin had to admit that Song Qiuchi’s beauty was truly striking—both sophisticated and alluring. Paired with the outfit provided by the sponsor, it perfectly highlighted the advantages of her figure, making it easy to win over fans.

The two entered the waiting room early to prepare for the shoot.

Cheng Luanxin finally relaxed, leaning back into the sofa with a sigh. “Didn’t we get exposed way too quickly?”

Song Qiuchi frowned. “And you have the nerve to say that? Sit up straight and go over the live broadcast content.”

Cheng Luanxin straightened her back and pulled out her phone. “Being you is exhausting.”

But there was no other choice. She had no choice but to diligently study the questions and answers. These answers might have been simple for Song Qiuchi herself, but Cheng Luanxin, who hadn’t even watched the movie, couldn’t even sort out the character relationships, let alone discuss their life trajectories or personality development. All she could do was memorize everything by rote.

Her head spun from reading, and she grew drowsy. Seeing no other option, Song Qiuchi broke everything down and explained it to her bit by bit, but it didn’t help much.

As the live broadcast time approached, Song Qiuchi had to lower her expectations. “Cheng Luanxin, I’m not asking you to deliver the interview content perfectly. Just be poised and graceful—can you manage that?”

Cheng Luanxin suspected Song Qiuchi’s definition of “poised and graceful” might differ from most people’s. “I’ll try, but don’t set your expectations too high.”

Under Song Qiuchi’s watchful gaze, Cheng Luanxin walked into the live broadcast room like a robot, sitting stiffly beside the host and flashing a practiced, professional smile.

Song Qiuchi: “…”

The live broadcast officially began.

The camera in the studio was placed on the table, with the screen behind it displaying real-time viewer comments. The barrage of messages was already overwhelming from the start, making Cheng Luanxin genuinely nervous.

The host smiled and opened the segment. “Dear viewers, thank you for waiting. Today, our guest is none other than Song Qiuchi, who has captivated audiences since her debut in the film industry. Qiuchi, why don’t you say hello to everyone?”

Cheng Luanxin waved at the camera. “Hello, everyone. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Qiuchi.”

The comments exploded:

Wuwuwu my wife is absolutely stunning

AHHHHHHH Qiuchi’s makeup today is killer!!!

Congratulations to Qiuchi for winning Best Actress!!

The host smoothly continued, “Last night, Qiuchi won the Golden Ear Award for Best Actress. What would you like to say about that?”

This was a question Cheng Luanxin could answer. “I’m deeply honored to receive the title of Best Actress at the Golden Ear Awards. Thank you all for your unwavering support. I’ll continue to work hard and bring you more outstanding works.”

The host then asked, “In The Fool’s Game, Siwen is a very captivating character. What do you think is the trait you share most with Siwen?”

This one was also in the script. Cheng Luanxin replied, “I think it’s maintaining curiosity about the unknown at all times…”

She answered several questions in a row, all of which Cheng Luanxin was familiar with, responding smoothly as the live chat remained harmonious. Her confidence grew, and her movements became more natural and relaxed.

At this moment, the host suddenly shifted the topic: “So, were there any interesting incidents during filming? I think our audience would be curious to know as well.”

Cheng Luanxin froze—this question wasn’t in the script. Where was she supposed to pull an answer from?

Bracing herself, she replied, “I think the entire filming process was quite fun. Every day brought new experiences, and I received a lot of care and encouragement from friends…”

The host: “Oh? Which friends, specifically?”

Cheng Luanxin: “…”

Did they really have to dig so deep?!

She had no idea about Song Qiuchi’s social circle, let alone which friends might have cared for or encouraged her. She was completely at a loss.

Under the host’s expectant gaze, her eyes darted around before she blurted out, “Uh… Cheng Luanxin?”

Song Qiuchi, who was watching the livestream outside the door: “…”

The barrage of comments erupted:

？？？？？

The host’s expression turned gossipy: “Oh? Are you and Cheng Luanxin very close?”

That was just perfect. At this point, she had no choice but to make things up: “Yes, we’re very close. We’ve been classmates since high school, supporting each other all the way to where we are now. We often encourage one another when facing difficulties.”

“What an enviable friendship,” the host finally stopped pressing her. “Cheng Luanxin also won the Best Music Award last night. Truly, outstanding people have outstanding friends.”

The “outstanding” Cheng Luanxin finally found a way to steer the conversation: “And everyone is welcome to listen to Cheng Luanxin’s new song, Dreaming of Her for Half a Day!”

The barrage:

Out-of-nowhere dog food?!

Wow, is this the legendary meeting at the summit?

Got it, got it, will listen as soon as the livestream ends!

Isn’t this the first time Qiuchi has talked about her personal relationships in public? Why do I feel like I’m shipping them?!

Song Qiuchi couldn’t take it anymore and closed the livestream, stepping outside to clear her head.

This livestream was undoubtedly a stain on her career.

She hadn’t walked far when her phone rang—the caller was Cheng Luanxin’s assistant, Xia Wenwen.

“Hello.”

“‘Hello’ my foot,” Xia Wenwen’s personality was strikingly similar to Cheng Luanxin’s—both were loud and excitable. “Disaster! Did you watch Song Qiuchi’s livestream?”

Song Qiuchi: “…I did.”

Xia Wenwen’s tone was exaggerated: “Did you hear what she said? She actually claimed the two of you are super close, supporting each other all this time, and even said you encourage each other often. Has she been cursed or something?”

Song Qiuchi: “…I have no idea what she was thinking.”

“Oh my god, she even promoted your new song. The sun must be rising from the west today. She’s not going to demand advertising fees from us later, is she?”

Song Qiuchi: “…She won’t.”

Xia Wenwen finally noticed something was off: “What’s wrong with you today? Not in a good mood?”

Given the circumstances, it was hard to be in a good mood. Song Qiuchi took a deep breath. “It’s nothing, just a bit tired.”

Xia Wenwen understood immediately: “You didn’t pull another all-nighter composing, did you? Go get some rest while you can. You’re still young now, but in a few years, your body won’t be able to take it!”

Song Qiuchi recalled waking up that morning clutching a guitar—it had been horrifying. “Thanks for your concern.”

After hanging up, Song Qiuchi took another deep breath.