I Conquer the Entertainment Industry with My Medical Skills - Chapter 1

Sunlight streamed across the floor outside the room.

Scattered clothes, pants, and shoes stretched from the doorway to the large bed in the inner chamber. A slender wrist slipped out from under the covers, still marked with mottled kiss marks, a testament to the night’s passionate encounter.

When An Ningqing woke, she was startled to find the ceiling spinning. She rubbed her temples, feeling as if she’d been struck over the head the night before, her entire body aching.

As the blanket gradually slid down, a chill ran across her chest, and she suddenly sensed something was wrong.

The bizarre dreamscape vanished, leaving only the unfamiliar room and the woman lying face-down beside her on the bed—a woman who loved to sleep on her stomach, her cheek pressed against the pillow, making her look absurdly cute.

Why was there a woman in her bed?!

A flood of memories that didn’t belong to her surged into her mind, more nauseating than being struck over the head. She felt sick to her stomach, on the verge of vomiting.

And then she did.

After she finished vomiting, An Ningqing had successfully digested the bizarre influx of memories. The memories belonged to a woman named An Ningqing—a remarkable coincidence, sharing her exact name. This body’s An Ningqing appeared to be a traffic star, a household name, a renowned actress.

Last night, after drinking too much, she had accidentally shared a passionate night with someone. Based on An Ningqing’s years of medical experience, this body had likely died from excessive alcohol consumption combined with overly vigorous intimacy.

What was this supposed to mean?

Dying beneath a peony flower, even as a ghost, remains a romantic fate?

An Ningqing splashed cold water on her face, the mirror reflecting a flawlessly smiling face—captivatingly alluring, possessing the enviable assets that drew admirers like moths to a flame.

But her face stung slightly. It seemed this was all too real.

Since I’m here, I might as well settle in, An Ningqing thought. She calmly gathered the original body’s scattered clothes from the floor and dressed without haste. As for the man still in bed, she didn’t even glance at him.

This scandalous affair belonged to the original body, and had nothing to do with her.

An Ningqing loathed this kind of inexplicable intimacy. A fire smoldered in her heart, yet she had no one to vent her anger on. After some deliberation, she picked up a pair of black lace pants lying nearby and tossed them into the trash can.

She also retrieved her phone from under the bed and, following muscle memory honed through countless repetitions, powered it on. A barrage of calls and messages flooded the screen, freezing it for a full three minutes before it returned to normal.

By then, she was fully dressed, her hair neatly arranged, her purse slung over her shoulder, and her own phone in hand. She strode out of the room with an air of nonchalance.

The phone rang.

An Ningqing answered casually, curious to see if this device really worked as advertised—could it truly transmit sound across vast distances? To her surprise, a clear voice came through the speaker.

“Where are you right now?”

“The hotel.”

“An Ningqing, don’t you dare step outside! The paparazzi are swarming the entrance. Photos of you checking into a room with someone last night are all over the internet.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stay in the hotel and don’t open the door for anyone. Got it? And don’t go into the hallway—the paparazzi have probably stolen service staff keycards to sneak upstairs.”

“If they question you, don’t say a word. Don’t panic, don’t explain.”

An Ningqing glanced at the slowly rising elevator, pivoted on her heel, and returned to the room door.

Knock, knock, knock—

“Who the hell is knocking again? Try it one more time!”

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

The knocking grew increasingly urgent.

Xie Anran, jolted awake and furious, wanted to tear the knocker limb from limb. If this were her home, she’d have them thrown out immediately.

Barefoot, she stumbled out of bed and groggily opened the door.

Just as she was about to unleash a torrent of curses, a gust of sinister wind swept in. The person darted into the room, and the door slammed shut behind them.

The figure moved with lightning speed, instantly snapping Xie Anran awake. Her eyes widened in shock. “Who are you?!”

An Ningqing clicked her tongue in amusement. Last night, they had been entangled in passionate lovemaking, yet now this person acted like they didn’t know her.

What a scumbag. A complete scumbag.

Perhaps An Ningqing’s mocking gaze was too obvious. Xie Anran finally noticed she was only wearing a loosely draped bathrobe, its lapels gaping open. “What are you staring at? What’s so interesting? Haven’t you ever seen a body like mine before?”

An Ningqing nodded in agreement. From a doctor’s perspective, Xie Anran was quite well-proportioned—curves in all the right places, healthy development, and fair skin that bordered on flawless. “Quite voluptuous,” she remarked.

Xie Anran, who preferred sleeping nude at home and felt no shame in being seen, suddenly felt a bit embarrassed by An Ningqing’s clinical assessment.

But who was Third Miss Xie?

“Turn around,” Xie Anran snapped, “or I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

An Ningqing simply rested her chin in her hand, adopting a leisurely pose, her gaze becoming even more blatant. Xie Anran felt like the woman’s eyes were stripping her bare, dissecting her bone by bone. “You pervert!” she blurted out. “Never seen a woman before?”

An Ningqing remained unfazed, smiling sweetly. “Indeed, I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

In the past, her patients had always been secretive and evasive, few willing to honestly disclose their conditions. No one had ever been as open and candid as Xie Anran, allowing her to study them so freely.

Xie Anran’s face flushed, her heart pounding with anger. She did exactly what An Ningqing had done moments earlier: she began gathering her clothes, putting them on piece by piece. Only then did she realize her underwear was missing, nowhere to be found.

Forget it. If I can’t find it, I can’t find it.

As for what happened last night…

“Hey, did we… you know, last night?”

“Who knows?”

That part of her memory was almost completely blank. As for whether they had actually slept together, she was only inferring based on her body’s reactions and the scene before her.

Two women sharing a bed, both bearing the marks of recent intimacy.

Whether it had actually happened or not, to an outsider, it would certainly look like they had.

Xie Anran was clearly dissatisfied with this ambiguous answer. She glared fiercely at An Ningqing, unsure whether she was angry at An Ningqing herself or at the fact that she couldn’t remember anything from the night before. Had this woman tricked me?

“Open your phone and show me your payment code.”

An Ningqing, puzzled but compliant, followed the instructions. The phone’s voice assistant announced:

Payment received: 500 yuan.

Could this be… the legendary “prostitute fee”?

An Ningqing gave Xie Anran a strange look. Xie Anran glared back. “What? 500 yuan for the night isn’t enough?! A full-service session only costs 480 yuan. Consider the extra 20 yuan my treat for breakfast. No need to thank me.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this,” An Ningqing remarked.

Xie Anran choked on her words.

All her knowledge came from gossip with her girlfriends, so she was sure she hadn’t paid the wrong amount. Whatever, she thought. Even if I did, I’d never admit it was my fault.

With that, she went to the side to touch up her makeup.

An Ningqing’s phone rang again. Her manager’s voice filled her ear: “Who exactly did you piss off? They’ve completely surrounded the hotel, just waiting for you to show your face. They’ve even started a live stream. Even the underground garage is crawling with paparazzi. I’m stuck down here and can’t get up. You’ll have to figure out how to get out yourself.”

“Tell me the truth: did you actually sleep with your fans like the rumors say?”

“Well…”

“Forget it, it doesn’t matter. If you absolutely have to, just say it’s a relationship—fiancée, wife, whatever works. Just don’t admit to sleeping with fans.”

“A confirmed relationship sounds much better than ‘f**king fans.’ Yes, that’s it. Every celebrity has a relationship; they’re just good at hiding it.”

“You need to convince your fan. She’ll definitely listen to you. You have to keep her calm. Only if she cooperates can you get through this crisis today.”

“Otherwise, you’re finished.”

Fan?!

An Ningqing’s suspicious gaze lingered on Xie Anran. Is she my fan?

That doesn’t make sense. What kind of fan would pay 500 yuan for s3x just to humiliate someone?

Maybe… a hater in disguise?

An Ningqing replied with a curt “Got it” and hung up. Xie Anran, meanwhile, was stealing glances at her while applying lip liner. Her bold red makeup suited her perfectly; she couldn’t let anyone know she’d spent the night in a hotel tryst, only to end up pale-faced and with purplish lips, looking like she’d been drained by some mischievous imp.

Her whole body ached, and her legs felt weak.

Could I have been the bottom last night?

No! I, Xie Anran, refuse to admit defeat. I was definitely the one in charge.

An Ningqing waited patiently until Xie Anran strutted past her on towering heels. Suddenly, she rose and lightly pressed a few pressure points on Xie Anran’s lower back.

Xie Anran went limp.

Physically, no—in a purely bodily sense, she went limp.

An Ningqing caught her, letting Xie Anran’s full weight lean against her. She gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, murmuring, “Careful.”

Xie Anran was terrified, realizing she seemed to have lost control of her limbs.

An Ningqing’s face wore a warm smile, her voice soft as cotton, but her words left Xie Anran utterly bewildered: “Just a small favor. I need to borrow you for a bit.”

Xie Anran: “???”

What, am I a wooden stake? To be moved wherever you need me? Don’t I have any dignity?

By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, Xie Anran seemed to realize something: her current predicament was undoubtedly An Ningqing’s doing.

That wretched woman!

Five hundred yuan wasn’t enough to satisfy her greed.

An Ningqing wrapped her arm around Xie Anran’s slender waist, her fingers brushing against a ticklish spot on her lower back. At the touch, Xie Anran couldn’t help but giggle, her entire body trembling.

As soon as they stepped out of the hotel, they were swarmed by paparazzi who had been waiting outside, their flashbulbs popping incessantly as they snapped photos.

An Ningqing wore a gentle, doting smile, her gaze fixed on Xie Anran. She seemed puzzled by the other woman’s violent trembling.

Is she scared?

To onlookers, Xie Anran appeared to be leaning bashfully against An Ningqing’s chest, gazing up at her with eyes full of spring, utterly smitten.

“An Ningqing, are you really so desperate that you’re preying on your own fans? Are the rumors true?”

“Are you two going public with your relationship?”

An Ningqing knew that silence was the best course of action. The more she spoke, the more she would dig herself into a hole, like trying to cover up one lie with countless others.

In this world, divorce seemed to be a common occurrence.

“As you can all see, this is my fiancée.”

Click, click, click.

A frenzy of camera flashes erupted.

Xie Anran felt like her eyes were about to be blinded. Were these paparazzi insane? How dare they swarm her like this? Whose company were they from? She was going to shut them down—wait, something wasn’t right.

What the hell did that wretched woman just say?

Fiancée.

Ha! Her?

Worthy to be her fiancée?

This world has gone mad.