389 Beijing University School Tyran

Qin Hanqiu didn’t understand what Qin Xiuchen had said to the manager.

But he understood what he meant by not using the script.

While sitting on the sofa, he put down the melon seed shell in his hand and looked honestly at Butler Qin. “He said that the show was real, and the director team didn’t arrange anything for Ran Ran.”

No arrangement?

No script?

So Qin Ran had come up with the cumbersome codes for the escape route in the first episode of the program?

Especially the section of the violin song, how did she play such a difficult composition without even using a score?

“Netizens have already started spamming.” The manager massaged his eyebrows. “But we have it under control.”

Qin Xiuchen’s team couldn’t be understated for his accomplishments today. His public relations were among the best in the entire entertainment circle.

The current situation was under the control of public relations.

He was afraid someone would step on it at this juncture.

Qin Xiuchen had almost no scandal in the circle, and many people were jealous of his standing on top of the pyramid in the film and television industry.

Things would blow up if someone wanted to make use of this situation.

Qin Ran was a bug in the program and was too inconsistent with ordinary people’s perception, so the majority of people actually believed it was fake. It wasn’t easy to find evidence for this kind of thing as well.

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What could they do?

Bring those who didn’t believe in Qin Ran to let them personally experience it?

Especially since Qin Ran had logged into her game account to play the game, which wasn’t something the production crew could write a script for.

After bearing it for a week, the effect of the reversal would be apparent.

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The director had also anticipated the current situation and had expected the second episode to completely cover the first episode. Thus, when Jiang Dongye had agreed to broadcast this episode, he hadn’t thought much about it and had finalized this version.

This version was the most authentic, and the director hadn’t touched it much.

Qin Xiuchen pressed his forehead and hung up.

Biting his cigarette, the smoke rose as he played with his phone. Finally, he called Qin Ran, who picked up after a few minutes.

“Ran Ran.” He put the phone to his ear, his voice as usual as the smoke enveloped his eyebrows. “Are you sleeping?”

“Not yet, I’m finishing a call with my roommate.” In Ting Lan, Qin Ran held the phone in one hand and opened the door with the other, looking lazy.