Sister Shan’s expression flickered with surprise when she saw “Lin Shuwen” take the medicine so readily.
Lin Shuwen was famously averse to bitter things. Even bitter melon—just a few slices of it to keep in shape—could make her frown for ages, let alone bitter pills like these. The fact that she downed them without a fuss and didn’t even ask for candy or preserved fruit afterward showed just how badly her head must have been hurting.
“Wenwen, are you okay? Maybe we should cancel today’s event—”
“No… no! Sister Shan, Director Liu has been so good to me. I have to go. But with the way I’m feeling right now, I probably can’t do my makeup, and I don’t remember the lyrics too clearly either. Please make sure to prepare a teleprompter for me when we get there.” Luo Ming put on a frail, weak voice.
Since Lin Shuwen had insisted, Sister Shan didn’t try to talk her out of it. She patted her on the shoulder and said, “Those are small things—I’ll take care of it.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell of Lin Shuwen’s apartment rang. Sister Shan went to open it, and a young woman carrying a makeup kit came bustling in.
“Wenjie, I’m here!”
Luo Ming had no idea who this girl was, so he could only pretend to feel unwell and give a faint nod.
“Miaomiao, cut the chatter and get to work on your Wenjie’s look.” Sister Shan gave her a little shove.
“Got it, Sister Shan.”
With Miaomiao’s help, the makeup and outfit change went smoothly.
Sticking to the principle of “don’t look at what isn’t proper,” Luo Ming tried his best not to look down when he took off the nightgown.
Once everything was in place, Luo Ming got into the van and they set off.
On the way, he listened to the song titled Flying to the Universe on repeat, without saying a single unnecessary word.
At times like this, saying too much meant making too many mistakes—it was better to stay quiet.
Sister Shan and the rest of Lin Shuwen’s team simply assumed her old ailment was flaring up and that her headache was particularly bad, so none of them tried to strike up conversation with him either.
Over on the other side, Lin Shuwen washed her face, took a quick shower, and headed out.
She could handle a smaller living space, but what she absolutely couldn’t accept was sharing a toilet with strangers.
Lin Shuwen didn’t touch any of Luo Ming’s other belongings—she just took the laptop he had specifically mentioned, withdrew 10,000 yuan from a nearby ATM, and took a taxi to a hotel.
Sitting in the passenger seat on the way there, her mind was flooded with thoughts. All she remembered was that last night she’d had a bit to drink, felt dizzy, and went to bed early.
Then, when she opened her eyes this morning, something felt immediately wrong. Her chest felt so much lighter—no more of that familiar pressure.
Lin Shuwen froze for a moment, then quickly began checking her own body. She didn’t even need to use her hands—it was like a thunderbolt had struck right above her head. How… how did she suddenly have an extra set of things that didn’t belong to her?!
Where were her breasts?
Why did she have an Adam’s apple?
She… she had turned into a man?!
After the initial shock subsided, Lin Shuwen calmed down. First, she searched the place and found Luo Ming’s ID card and graduation certificate, confirming his identity.
Luo Ming, 23 years old, computer science graduate. Half a month ago, he’d been working as a front-end developer at a small company, but for some reason, he’d suddenly quit. Now he made a living by taking on freelance gigs on computer forums.
Seeing the familiar name of the school on Luo Ming’s diploma, Lin Shuwen let out a long breath. Like Luo Ming, she was from Shanxi, but her parents had taken her to the capital when she was twelve because of work, and she’d rarely gone back home since.
But she still remembered that school—which meant she probably hadn’t transmigrated into some other world.
So she unlocked Luo Ming’s phone with his fingerprint and called her own number—which led to the earlier conversation.
Fifteen minutes later, Lin Shuwen arrived at the nearest Home Inn, checked into a room, and settled in.
After that, she followed Luo Ming’s instructions, opened the laptop, and sent the “3” folder to “Doggy.”
Doggy said he’d check it out.
A few minutes later, Luo Ming’s phone buzzed with a text message alert. Lin Shuwen picked it up and saw it was from the bank—1,500 yuan had been deposited.
At the same time, Doggy replied: “Good work. I’m very satisfied. Hope we can work together again.”
Lin Shuwen said thanks, and the other side sent an “OK” emoji and went quiet.
After getting all that done, Lin Shuwen sat on the sofa and thought, “By now, Luo Ming should have arrived at the event, right?”
And indeed, Luo Ming had already made it to the movie promotional event.
But right now, Luo Ming was in a daze. He’d only been in this world for half a month, and he really didn’t know many celebrities—at least, he didn’t recognize a single one of the people coming up to greet him.
“Wenwen, long time no see!” A woman with heavy makeup walked over and took Luo Ming’s hand.
Luo Ming instinctively pulled his hand back, and the woman’s expression froze instantly.
Seeing this, Sister Shan quickly stepped in to smooth things over: “Sorry, sorry. Wenwen’s old condition is acting up today—she’s not feeling well. Please bear with her.”
Thankfully, Sister Shan was there. She explained the situation to the celebrities who had come over to say hello. When they learned that Lin Shuwen was suffering from a migraine, they wisely kept their distance.
The first hurdle was cleared. Next up was the director.
Luo Ming didn’t know this Director Liu either, but fortunately he’d managed to glean some information from Miaomiao earlier.
This Director Liu was fairly well-known in the TV drama circuit. When Lin Shuwen first started out, she’d played a supporting female role in one of his dramas—not a huge part, but it gave her some exposure.
That was how Lin Shuwen caught Sister Shan’s attention. Under Sister Shan’s management, she appeared in two more dramas and sang their OSTs. The dramas themselves didn’t take off, but the two songs became massive hits, and Lin Shuwen became one of the poster children for “bad movies, great soundtracks.”
On one hand, there was her iffy reputation in film and television; on the other, her voice was praised to the skies.
Sister Shan made a sharp 180-degree turn—she stopped booking Lin Shuwen for acting roles and went all-in on music. Half a month ago, Lin Shuwen won the Best New Artist and Best Song awards at the Golden Melody Awards.
She was now hailed as the new pop diva, riding high on her popularity.
And Director Liu’s movie was a make-or-break project for him—his big transition from TV to film. He took it very seriously, which was why he’d reached out to Lin Shuwen.
Director Liu had been a mentor to Lin Shuwen, so she naturally couldn’t refuse. Plus, she genuinely enjoyed acting, so she agreed to a cameo in the film and also promised to sing the theme song.
Unfortunately, an unexpected turn of events this morning meant that instead of Lin Shuwen singing the theme song, it would be Luo Ming.
