After Flirting with the Wrong Stand-in, I Overturned (GL) - Chapter 49
The first season of The Princess of Qin officially announced its premiere date during the summer vacation. Initially, most people tuned in for Rong Yu. Although Leaving Home had accumulated some popularity for Lin Shuyan, the two dramas—one a modern slice-of-life and the other a period piece—were worlds apart, and skepticism online remained rampant.
[Will Lin Shuyan’s acting be crushed in the comparison?]
[I really don’t understand why Rong Yu would act in this, paired with a “no-name” artist.]
[The Eldest Princess is supposed to be noble. Looking at Lin Shuyan’s face, she’s fine for playing a delicate “white lotus,” but playing a princess? Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?]
[Same-sex theme? You have to wonder what Rong Yu was thinking. She must be desperate for money.]
Beyond doubting Lin Shuyan’s acting, criticisms regarding Rong Yu’s script selection and career planning were everywhere. Before the broadcast, almost no one outside of the hardcore fans had high hopes for this drama.
However, when the official trailer was released, netizens suddenly realized it wasn’t as bad as they thought. The young general played by Rong Yu immediately captured the hearts of many. And as for the princess played by Lin Shuyan… how was it that she actually looked so regal?
Especially the shot of the Eldest Princess kneeling in the rain at night, and that look in her eyes when she lowered her head.
Was the trailer a “scam”? At 8:00 PM, everyone would find out. Thus, on the first day, besides the fans, many people tuned in with a casual “nothing better to do, let’s look at the visuals” attitude.
After watching the first two episodes: Well… I want to see more.
[Argh! Why did I click on the first episode? How am I going to survive until the next ten episodes are out?]
[Plus one. I wish I hadn’t found this until the finale was already out.]
[The Princess’s visuals are killing me. That wedding dress is way too beautiful. I love this face.]
[Love seeing beautiful women together. Usually it’s a bunch of ugly men; it’s really a disservice to our “Sisters.” Beautiful women are the best match!]
[Can’t agree more with the person above! But I love the story even more. I’ve watched the trailer six times. Can I just time travel to 8:00 PM tomorrow?]
[Did the Princess and General know each other before? I bet they have a history. Childhood sweethearts.]
[How did they fall in love? How did it happen? I want to see the beauties being affectionate.]
On the premiere day, casual viewers were drawn in for various reasons. By the second day, when two more episodes aired and the plot reached a minor climax, the online buzz for The Princess of Qin soared.
It was at this moment that the production crew officially announced the filming of the second season. Lin Shuyan could feel that more and more people were joining the crew.
By the end of the second week’s broadcast, The Princess of Qin was a total hit. Because it was an original script, more and more people across various platforms began analyzing the future of the story. Makeup tutorials and fan edits became innumerable. Many people started “shipping” the Princess and the General (CP), and some even started shipping the actresses in real life.
Lin Shuyan scratched her head, looking awkwardly at the constant messages from fans on her phone. “The two of us…”
She and Rong Yu were truly just friends. The netizens had guessed correctly about the sexual orientation, but who would have thought that both of them already had partners? “Rong Yu,” Lin Shuyan leaned closer to her, “Should we clarify things?”
“Clarify what?” Rong Yu looked at her with amusement. “They’re just entertaining themselves. Do you really want to go out of your way to clarify?” That would only make it look like they had something to hide.
Lin Shuyan nodded, thinking it made sense. Most people could distinguish between reality and fiction; they were shipping the characters. However, remembering the fan edits she had seen, Shuyan’s face turned red. The netizens were far too bold—she and Rong Yu were nowhere near that ambiguous during filming, okay?
I wonder if A-Xuan saw them?
It wasn’t like that at all. Shuyan wanted to send a message to explain, but thinking of A-Xuan’s recent busyness and Rong Yu’s words, an explanation seemed a bit redundant.
“Rong Yu,” Lin Shuyan leaned in, checking that no one was around before covering her mouth with her hand and whispering, “When you took this role, did Miss Ning ask about it?”
Ning Yinman. Rong Yu’s heart stirred slightly. Of course, Ning Yinman had asked; she hadn’t even wanted her to film such a drama, but she couldn’t stop Rong Yu’s persistence… Rong Yu stopped herself from thinking about those meaningless arguments. That wasn’t what Shuyan was asking anyway.
“Are you,” Rong Yu’s expression stiffened, “worried she’ll feel uncomfortable?” Rong Yu didn’t really want to say Ren Xuan’s name. She had avoided Shuyan for a few days, but there was no avoiding each other on set.
“A-Xuan wouldn’t.” Lin Shuyan chuckled, shaking her head. She hadn’t really seen A-Xuan get jealous. A-Xuan was always calm and composed. She just didn’t want A-Xuan to feel a single moment of—even a flash of—unhappiness.
“If,” Rong Yu suddenly realized a very serious matter, “she asked you to stop acting…”
“A-Xuan wouldn’t.”
“What if she did?” Rong Yu pressed. “Everyone is selfish. Maybe she isn’t now, but compared to letting someone appear openly before everyone, most people would probably want that person to belong only to themselves.”
Rong Yu gave a bleak smile. “If it were like that, Lin Shuyan, would you?”
Don’t nod, don’t nod, Rong Yu prayed in her heart. You can stop being a star, you can stop acting, you can even leave the industry, but it absolutely must not be because of one person. Especially not that unworthy person.
“I…” Lin Shuyan still shook her head, dismissing the hypothetical. “A-Xuan wouldn’t.” Ren Xuan had always supported her career. Ren Xuan never interfered in what she filmed or who she filmed with. She would only look at the script after Shuyan made up her mind and check in on her filming daily life.
Rong Yu knew she couldn’t persuade her further, so she said no more. If The Princess of Qin becoming a hit was a good thing for Lin Shuyan, then if the day ever came when the ugly truth was revealed, Rong Yu thought, at least Shuyan would still have her career.
The second season of The Princess of Qin was filmed in an intense but orderly fashion. The cliffhanger at the end of the first season had kept netizens on edge, with everyone guessing what agreement the Eldest Princess had reached with the Emperor.
[I wish I could just cleave this dog of an Emperor with a sword.]
[Don’t angst the girls; go angst my ex-boyfriend instead.]
[Argh, the General is really suffering this time. The Princess must be heartbroken.]
[If the General saw the Princess kneeling in the hall for so long for her sake, she’d be heartbroken too.]
[The Ning family has been loyal for generations. Do they not deserve a good ending? Scriptwriter, don’t make me send you razor blades.]
[…]
The first season required early training in etiquette, martial arts, and script study, so the second season took less time. It was completed in two months and, after editing, happened to catch the peak of the winter vacation broadcast.
The twin sister posing as her deceased brother to support the entire Ning family and lead the Ning Family Army, who had secured peace for the people for generations. The Eldest Princess, who initially held onto hope for family ties, slowly lost heart after realizing the reality and sought a new meaning for her life.
Only much, much later did Qin Yuantang realize that before she even knew what “liking someone” meant, she had already placed a girl in her heart. For the sake of this girl, she married the girl’s “brother,” just to be a little closer to her—only to find out later that the one who died was actually the brother.
The wary General slowly and cautiously drew closer to the Princess, willing to bet everything she had.
[I’m really worried. The scene where the Princess reached an agreement with the Emperor was too realistic; I’m scared she’ll sell the General out in the next second.]
[It turns out she’d sell anyone out before her own “husband.”]
[User above, are you sure it’s “husband”? Smirk. I think the General is more like the little wife.]
[Definitely husband. You just haven’t seen what the Princess is like in front of the General. Image 1, Image 2]
While netizens were intoxicated by the sweetness, some began to notice the small details in the drama. The cheerful atmosphere lasted until the latter half of the second season. The moment the General donned her armor to go to the battlefield again, everyone’s hearts tightened.
The situation inside and outside the court became increasingly tense. The Princess feigned a unified front with the Emperor, using everything she had learned and all her connections. She only wanted to save the Ning family, who were being “roasted over a fire.”
The ending seemed destined, no matter how hard the Princess tried. Dying on the battlefield was perhaps the fate of a general. In the Ning family, not a single person had ever retired peacefully.
The true Ning An had fallen in the sand of the vast desert. The father of Ning An and Ning Chun had died of an arrow wound that wouldn’t heal.
“Qin Yuantang,” Ning Chun (as Ning An) murmured with a light laugh, clutching her abdomen where blood was gushing out, “I might not… might not be able to watch the next moon with you.”
“I regret it,” in the rolling yellow sands, Ning Chun heard herself say, “I regret provoking you when we were children.”
“Don’t enter the Ning family genealogy.” She couldn’t bear it.
Beautiful memories flashed through her mind. The fans didn’t even dare to keep watching. The enemy was still pursuing, and even with eyes closed, the sound of clashing swords could be heard.
In the tenth year of Emperor Chu Yuan, General Ning met the Mobei forces and unfortunately died. Hundreds of thousands of the Ning Family Army fell at the border; the army was left without a commander.
The direction she faced when she closed her eyes at death was the capital—where the girl stayed, for whom she had first wanted to shed the identity of the Ning family. The wind seemed to blow past her ears.
“How about you marry into the Ning family?” “I’ll definitely make sure you’re fed. A daughter-in-law of my Ning family will never be allowed to suffer a bit of harm.”
Ning An was dead. The person she cherished was still busy working for her sake until, half a month later, the news reached the capital.
Ning An was dead. Qin Yuantang never saw her body. She didn’t cry; she showed no grief—fitting everything the Emperor wanted.
The scrolling comments on the screen were all words of sorrow. They couldn’t believe that Ning An hadn’t escaped death this time. In truth, every bit of joy before had been foreshadowing, but beautiful things always make one forget sadness.
Qin Yuantang was no longer that soft-hearted princess. She vowed that everyone who harmed Ning An would pay in blood.
She waited for a full five years. Netizens watched her step-by-step use her status as Eldest Princess to participate in politics, assisting the Emperor until she finally became the Eldest Princess in actual power.
She finally reached that high position and took her revenge. She killed every single participant from back then, personally sent off the Emperor, and supported a new Emperor’s ascension.