The task of story-writing is simply perfect for Mu Qiu, just like playing Werewolf, creating the story as she goes, getting more into it the more she plays, five minutes is no sweat.
When the director called time, she still wasn't done.
Qing Rong sighed in relief, "If we keep going, these plots might uncontrollably appear in my books."
If that happens, the publisher might return his books.
Mu Qiu's eyes lifted with a smile, "I guess I'm really at fault then. Should we hang up now or listen to the results first?"
Qing Rong: "A task requires a result; of course, we should listen to the result."
Mu Qiu said alright, then turned back, nervously asking the director, "Did we pass? How many likes did we get?"
The director made an okay gesture and said, "Thirty-three thousand."
"Thirty-three thousand?!" Placing the phone back to her ear, she excitedly told Qing Rong, "Did you hear that? Thirty-three thousand!"
"Guess you hit a lot of viewers' sore spots."
