I Conquer the Entertainment Industry with My Medical Skills - Chapter 7

Seeing An Ningqing suddenly lean in, Xie Anran had to lean back. “What are you doing getting so close?! An Ningqing, let me tell you, I’m not the kind of girl who’s easily—”

An Ningqing gently placed two fingers on Xie Anran’s wrist, her profile soft and graceful, like an elegant portrait.

“Liver qi stagnation, phlegm-fire disturbing the heart.”

Her diagnosis aligned with Xie Anran’s own assessment. However, An Ningqing glanced at Xie Anran with a curious expression. “Third Miss, your condition is… somewhat unexpected.”

“Huh?!”

“What do you mean?”

An Ningqing grabbed a piece of paper and glanced at Xie Anran’s complexion. Her face was radiant with healthy bl00d flow, rosy and luminous. She had noticed this during their first meeting at the hotel, but her mind had been too preoccupied to offer a proper diagnosis then.

Fortunately, the woman had the self-awareness to seek help.

With a few swift strokes, An Ningqing wrote out a prescription. “This condition has been lingering for years. Take this for half a month, then come back for a follow-up.”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Xie Anran finally managed to interrupt. Puzzled, she asked, “I haven’t even finished explaining, and you’re already jumping to conclusions? Do you even know why I came here?”

“To see a doctor.”

“Uh…”

Technically, that wasn’t wrong.

But hearing those words from An Ningqing’s mouth felt so strange.

Slightly embarrassed, Xie Anran carefully rephrased, “Actually, it’s about a friend of mine. She accidentally took that… aphrodisiac. I wanted to ask a doctor if there might be any long-term side effects or serious health risks. Wait, why am I even telling you this? You’re not a doctor.”

“You’re just making things more complicated.”

“The side effects of aphrodisiacs vary widely. For male patients, overdoses can lead to marital discord or even death by internal rupture. There was one case where a man insisted on using it before every sexual encounter—” An Ningqing met Xie Anran’s bright, curious eyes. “Forget it. Have your friend come see me herself.”

With that, she picked up her phone again and resumed watching the video she had been watching earlier.

Xie Anran, who had only heard half the gossip, was left utterly bewildered.

Finish the story! she thought, glaring at An Ningqing.

But An Ningqing remained unmoved, her focus entirely on the video playing before her. She hadn’t even muted it, so the sounds drifted clearly to Xie Anran’s ears.

“Ah… ah…”

“Open your legs wider! Push harder!”

!!!

Xie Anran glanced at An Ningqing, who remained languid and composed.

Meanwhile, Xie Anran’s face flushed crimson.

This woman! Watching such filth right in front of me! How shameless!

The next moment:

“I see the head! Keep going!”

“Breathe in, breathe out. Let’s try again.”

The situation seemed to be taking an unexpected turn.

Realizing she might have misunderstood something, Xie Anran craned her neck and edged closer to An Ningqing. She nudged and nudged, convinced her subtle movements were going unnoticed. “Hey, woman, what are you watching?”

An Ningqing, cramped in the corner of the sofa, shifted instinctively for comfort. As she stretched her leg, Xie Anran panicked and tried to move, losing her balance and tumbling forward.

The phone flew out of her hand.

She buried herself in An Ningqing’s embrace, her face pressed against a soft warmth. The steady rhythm of An Ningqing’s heartbeat filled her ears, but it was quickly drowned out by the frantic pounding in her own chest.

“Mmm.”

Beep beep.

Hidden by the video’s audio, no one noticed the sound of the door’s keypad unlocking.

“An An, the peaches looked so fresh today, so I bought some for you to try,” Su Guo said, looking up to see the two women entwined on the sofa. “Ah, I didn’t see anything!”

She hastily covered her eyes with one hand, but couldn’t resist peeking through her fingers.

Rumors about An Ningqing and Third Miss Xie’s relationship had been swirling for days. Even after the trending topics were removed, the gossip persisted.

She never expected to witness it firsthand.

“Should I… leave you two to continue?”

“……”

Xie Anran wanted to die.

An Ningqing lowered her gaze to the fluffy head nestled in her arms. “When did Third Miss learn to throw herself into my arms?”

Who threw themselves into whose arms?!

Xie Anran scrambled out of An Ningqing’s apartment, practically fleeing. Her face flushed crimson, she snapped, “I have things to do. I’m leaving now.”

Su Guo watched Xie Anran suspiciously as she bypassed the elevator and bolted down the stairs. “An An, did I interrupt something?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

“No,” An Ningqing replied curtly.

An Ningqing had her own matters to attend to and cared little whether there was one more or one fewer person in the apartment. Xie Anran’s visit had caused barely a ripple. After watching a video for a while, her gaze drifted to the coffee table.

Xie Anran had left behind the prescription she had written.

An Ningqing lightly pinched the paper between her fingers. “Xie Anran, I’ll remember this.”

This was the first time anyone had treated her prescription so casually. Hmph.

However, Xie Anran’s words had reminded her of something. “Su Guo, why don’t celebrities see doctors when they’re sick?”

She had watched numerous public videos, including the recent live broadcast of a woman giving birth—something unimaginable in her past world. Yet she was surprised to find that celebrities, like most people in her original world, avoided seeking medical care.

Su Guo tilted her head. “They’re afraid of the publicity.”

Even celebrities get sick, but they prefer to seek medical care discreetly or consult trusted doctors to avoid the risk of their medical records being leaked. Most stars avoid hospitals unless it’s a serious illness.

Imagine the scandal if news broke that a female celebrity had hemorrhoid surgery…

Or that a male star was diagnosed with prostatitis…

Their fans’ idealized image would shatter into a million pieces.

Everyone has their pride, after all.

An Ningqing suddenly developed a keen interest in the people in this industry. For the first time, she showed genuine delight. Su Guo’s little head was filled with question marks.

Does An An enjoy gossip too?

Seizing the opportunity while An Ningqing was in a good mood, Su Guo reminded her, “An An, you have an ad shoot this afternoon and a fan meet-and-greet tonight. We need to prepare in advance.”

“An ad?” An Ningqing asked.

After a moment’s thought, she realized what it meant.

Since Third Miss Xie hadn’t retaliated against her, it meant her plan to use the Company to blacklist, shelve, or force her out of the industry had failed.

For now, she could only take things one step at a time.

The only thing that brought her a sliver of joy was that the original owner had gained a bit of fame, and as a result, most of the events she booked now paid more than before.

If she worked hard enough, her dream of owning a manor might not be so far-fetched.

After three days in this world, An Ningqing had calmly accepted the mess left behind by the original owner.

During the commercial shoot, she mimicked the original owner’s performance from memory. The process wasn’t entirely smooth—after all, she wasn’t the real deal—but the final result was satisfactory.

It took her a full three hours to film a single commercial.

Back in the dressing room, she gulped down a cup of warm stomach tea. Her current assistant wasn’t Su Guo, but she still diligently reminded her, “Sister An, should you go greet the fans outside?”

This had been specially arranged by Guan Lang.

An Ningqing glanced at the clock. It was already 8 PM, and in summer, mosquitoes and other insects would be swarming outside. “Prepare mosquito repellent pouches for each of them.”

The assistant blinked. “Huh? Sister An, what’s a mosquito repellent pouch? Do you mean mosquito repellent spray?”

An Ningqing paused. “Never mind.”

The assistant nodded. “Don’t worry, Sister An. Brother Lang has already prepared milk tea for the girls.”

An Ningqing changed into a light-colored dress to meet her fans. The young girls held up glittering support signs and surged forward the moment she appeared.

Meeting their star-bright eyes, An Ningqing could feel their wholehearted adoration for her original self. The girls’ affection was pure and fervent. She smiled gently. “Thank you for waiting.”

Even the sweltering heat couldn’t dampen their enthusiasm.

An Ningqing invited them to the fan meet-and-greet, which Guan Lang had meticulously arranged. Her role was simply to nod, smile, sign autographs, and pose for photos—a decorative figurehead.

Fearing she might flirt with fans again, Guan Lang had even confiscated her WBo account, which boasted tens of millions of followers.

With Su Guo’s help, An Ningqing created a secret, anonymous account: Little Divine Physician of Medicine King Valley. She only followed prominent figures in the medical community on WBo.

Beyond casual chats, photo ops, and fan service, Guan Lang’s true purpose was to monitor the individuals who had flirted with the original An Ningqing. She had shown him all their chat logs, and he had his own methods for placating them.

As long as no physical relationship had developed…

The unspoken implication was clear: as long as they weren’t caught in the act, they could deny everything. Guan Lang had even prepared a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario—if their chat logs were leaked, he would blame it all on his assistant.

He had already found a scapegoat.

An Ningqing wouldn’t confess, since she hadn’t done anything wrong. Nor did she want to interfere with Guan Lang’s schemes; in fact, she would welcome it if the truth came out. As a result, the fan meet-and-greet was a resounding success, filled with cheerful energy.

The fans even received a unique gift from An Ningqing: a limited-edition Queen figurine, one for each attendee.

Though she couldn’t understand why these young fans were so thrilled over a small toy, as if they’d won the world, she graciously posed for photos with them, signing autographs with a smile.

It was nearing the end of the event when An Ningqing caught a glimpse of a man in a jacket. Slightly overweight, he walked slowly behind a young girl, his head bowed, next in line.

For some reason, she glanced at him twice, her keen senses picking up a foul odor that stood out sharply against the sweet fragrance of the crowd.

Her instincts sharpened.

As the man approached, the faint stench grew more pronounced, like the sour smell you might accidentally pick up when passing a garbage bin. He was filthy from head to toe; the original color of his clothes was indistinguishable, and his shoes looked as if they’d been splattered with tomato sauce, with a few stray noodles clinging to them.

“An An, I love you so much! Can I get your autograph?”

“What should I sign?”

“Sign… ‘You love me.'”

He looked up, the madness in his eyes barely concealed by his wire-rimmed glasses. “An An, I really, really love you. You love me too, right?”

An Ningqing took a step back.

This man’s behavior was clearly off.

As soon as he finished speaking, he lunged at her, arms outstretched. “An An, let me kiss you!”