Fake Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 16

Gu Nanxian said expressionlessly, “If you can’t speak properly, you can just shut up.”

“Hehe, what if I don’t want to shut up?”

Zhu Ningyue stuck out her tongue at her and happily collected the keys to the food shop along with the activity funds.

In the livestream chat:

Why does Zhu Ningyue seem to get along so well with Gu Nanxian? Are you sure there’s nothing going on between them?

Of course there is! Hehe, my rival-ship will come true one day.

Then why is Gu Nanxian still so close to my favorite actress? She’s the worst!

Ge Jiang couldn’t help but chuckle beside them. “Don’t celebrate too soon. What if Nanxian’s team performs really well tomorrow?”

“No way. Who would even go to Gu Nanxian for photos? It’s not like she’s—”

Zhu Ningyue stopped mid-sentence, realizing something. Her smile froze before completely fading.

“Surely we won’t be that unlucky, right?”

With Qiu Qing’an around, even if no one wanted photos from Gu Nanxian, their sales wouldn’t be terrible.

But with only 500 in activity funds, they’d need at least a hundred customers just to break even—and that wasn’t even accounting for costs.

There was no way Qiu Qing’an could handle that many people alone… right?

Ge Jiang mused, “If it’s just pressing the shutter, it shouldn’t take too long. But the production team probably wouldn’t make the rules that simple.”

“Jiang Jiang’s right.”

The host chimed in at this point. “For the photography shop, guests must be satisfied with the photos you take for it to count as a completed order~”

Just pressing the shutter a hundred times wouldn’t even take an hour.

But if customer satisfaction was required, the time spent could be endless.

After all, you never knew what kind of photos customers wanted or what demands they might have.

The host added, “Also, each customer’s spending is limited. They can’t spend more than 20 yuan per visit to the special commercial zone, and they can only visit each shop twice at most.”

This was to prevent fans from excessively boosting their favorite celebrities’ sales and creating an unfair gap in revenue.

Qiu Qing’an smiled helplessly. “Seems like building up our sales won’t be easy.”

Gu Nanxian also felt a headache coming on. Just the idea of taking photos for people already seemed like an insurmountable challenge.

Given her current reputation, not only would she be of no help, but she might even be deliberately targeted, affecting their performance.

Her initial plan was to just assist in the background.

After all, taking photos wasn’t that much work—Qiu Qing’an could handle it alone.

But now, it seemed she’d have to step up too. Otherwise, they might end up at the bottom due to insufficient sales.

What had seemed like the easiest task—running a photography shop—was actually full of hidden “traps.”

In contrast to the somber mood on set, the livestream audience was buzzing with excitement about the upcoming activity.

Some had already compiled the information revealed during the livestream and shared it on Weibo.

Those who get tickets to the special commercial zone tomorrow, make sure to take photos and share them!

Ugh, I can’t wait to see the award-winning actress in person.

Just thinking about getting a photo taken by the award-winning actress herself has me too excited to sleep.

Hey, wake up—you’re already dreaming. The entry threshold tomorrow is definitely going to be high.

I think so too.

The host watched as the three groups received their keys and activity funds, then smiled and said, “There’s still some time before eight o’clock. How about we play a little game to pass the time?”

“What kind of game?” Sikong Yuan asked.

“Truth or Dare.”

This time, the host didn’t keep them in suspense.

“The rules are simple. Everyone will anonymously send a message to the person they want to ask a question using a mobile app. The recipient must answer the question. How does that sound?”

Zhu Ningyue answered without hesitation, “Sounds good.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her eagerness was too obvious and quickly added, “But what if someone doesn’t receive a message?”

The host chuckled, “Then they don’t have to do anything. It’s just a simple little game.”

The others also found this reasonable and took out their phones to start composing their messages.

Half a minute later, notification sounds chimed from several phones.

The host waited for three minutes, ensuring no one was still typing, before asking, “Who’d like to be the first to share the question they received?”

Sikong Yuan raised her phone. “I’ll go first.”

Her expression was natural and confident, clearly happy to share.

The host politely asked, “Yuan Yuan, would you mind sharing your screen with us?”

Sikong Yuan nodded. “Of course.”

The cameraman stepped forward, adjusting the lens to focus on her phone so the live audience could see the content.

The question Sikong Yuan received was: What do you like most about yourself?

“This question is actually quite hard to answer,” Sikong Yuan pretended to struggle before joking, “Because I’m pretty satisfied with everything about myself.”

The live chat was instantly flooded with praise:

Our Yuan Yuan is the best!

“But if I had to pick, I’d say I’m most proud of my discipline,” she explained. “Whenever I set my mind to something, I make a plan and follow through. I’ve never failed to stay disciplined.”

The host remarked, “It seems Yuan Yuan really is disciplined. I envy your willpower.”

“Thank you,” Sikong Yuan replied, flashing a near-perfect smile at the camera.

Next up was Yu Qianxue.

Her question was: Who do you dislike the most in the entertainment industry?

“This one seems tricky,” the host said, giving her an out. “Qianxue, if you’re worried about offending anyone, you can just whisper the answer to me.”

Yu Qianxue shook her head with a faint smile. “It’s fine. The person I’m thinking of is well-known to many.”

Her response sparked speculation in the live chat:

Is it Gu Nanxuan?

Wow, are we about to witness a live feud?

Yu Qianxue then revealed a familiar name—a male actor notorious for harassing his female co-stars, a scandal that had once trended on social media. Multiple people had also accused him of assaulting assistants and coercing younger actors into compromising situations.

“Ah, him,” the host murmured, clearly recognizing the name, a testament to the actor’s infamy.

The live audience reacted with disgust:

Compared to him, even Gu Nanxuan seems decent.

Hey, don’t drag Gu Nanxuan into this. It feels like an insult to her.

+1, I feel bad for Gu Nanxuan now.

The barrage was filled with comments about Gu Nanxuan speaking up.

Am I hallucinating? When did Gu Nanxuan get redeemed?

Let’s be fair—she still deserves criticism, but comparing her to an animal is just wrong.

Exactly, we know the difference between a person and an animal.

The live chat was buzzing with activity.

The host then turned to the next person. “Jiangjiang, did you receive any questions?”

Ge Jiang had initially planned to pretend she hadn’t gotten any messages, but the host’s gaze and the camera lens were now fixed on her.

The red notification dot on her phone screen was unmistakably visible to the live audience.

Left with no choice, she stopped midway in her attempt to hide her phone and revealed the screen.

The message was still unread, marked by a red “①” next to an anonymous avatar.

In front of everyone, she tapped to open it: Do you have someone you like right now?

The host’s eyes lit up. “Wow, looks like a romance question!”

In a dating show livestream, these were her favorite kinds of questions—the ones that really got the audience engaged.

Ge Jiang put her phone away, her peripheral glance catching someone who had already perked up their ears. She answered, “I don’t think I have someone I like right now.”

“What do you mean by ‘think’?”

The host was quick to latch onto the ambiguity, cutting straight to the point.

“Could it be that you’re already feeling a little something but aren’t sure yet?”

Ge Jiang smiled. “That’s a secret.”

The host sighed dramatically. “What a shame.”

Zhu Ningyue, sitting beside Ge Jiang, wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or upset upon hearing her answer.

If happy—was it because Ge Jiang didn’t have someone she liked?

And if upset—was it also because Ge Jiang didn’t have someone she liked?

Or… because she didn’t like her either?

“Ningyue? Ningyue?”

The host called her name a few times, but when she got no response, she was about to move on to the next person.

Ge Jiang nudged Zhu Ningyue’s arm, snapping her out of her daze. “Huh? What?”

The host repeated, “Would you like to share the question you received?”

Zhu Ningyue nodded and pulled out her phone to show the screen.

Her question was: What’s your favorite food?

A perfectly ordinary question.

Even if asked openly, no one around would find it odd.

Zhu Ningyue stared at the question, unsure who would ask her something like this.

After a moment’s thought, she answered, “My favorite food is probably grilled meat.”

The host grinned. “What a coincidence! I love grilled meat too. Seems like we’re all carnivores at heart.”

Zhu Ningyue didn’t explain why and simply smiled along.

Ge Jiang, watching her smiling face, couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Next up is our award-winning actress, Qiu Yinghou. I wonder how many messages Qing’an has received?”

The host was well aware of Qiu Qing’an’s popularity.

Sure enough, when Qiu Qing’an revealed her screen, she had six unread messages—meaning nearly everyone present had sent her a question.

“I’ll pick one to answer,” Qiu Qing’an said with a gentle smile.

She was clearly accustomed to handling such situations with ease.

For the sake of the show’s entertainment value, the host teased, “Oh no, you don’t get to choose—our audience does.”

She turned to face the camera: “Don’t you all agree?”

The live chat exploded with responses:

Yes! x99

Qiu Qing’an gave a helpless smile. “Alright then.”

Seeing her agreement, the host took out a phone, opened the live stream, and checked the most frequently spammed content on the screen.

Then, looking up, the host said, “Everyone wants you to answer the third question.”

Qiu Qing’an clicked on the third anonymous profile, revealing the message inside:

Are you still waiting for me?