Foreseeing the Future: The Scheming Movie Queen Married Me - Chapter 1

Summer. Street-side. An overcast sky. A light breeze.

Dong Yao sat on a step ladder, a palette in one hand and a brush in the other. Her movements were practiced and skillful as she sketched and painted across the wall.

A lush, leafy tree gradually took shape with every stroke of her brush.

Just as she was becoming one with her work, a cacophony of noise erupted nearby. Her brush stopped, and she looked down.

“Gu Shiqiu is my wife!” a boy around ten years old shouted. His cheeks were flushed red, his neck straining as he yelled.

The scrawny boy standing opposite him refused to back down, yelling back just as loudly: “Is not! She’s my wife!”

“You’re lying! She’s mine!”

“No, she’s MINE!!!”

The debate over Gu Shiqiu’s “ownership” grew heated. Spit flew, and the two began shoving each other in their excitement.

Dong Yao rubbed her temples and tossed her brush back into the jar. “How about this: why don’t you guys just chop Gu Shiqiu in half so you can each take a piece home?”

The two boys looked up toward the person on the ladder.

Dong Yao continued, “You’re barely old enough to tie your shoes and it’s ‘wife’ this and ‘wife’ that. Does Gu Shiqiu even know she has husbands as tiny as you?”

The first boy pouted, clearly unhappy. He stuck his tongue out at Dong Yao, hoisted his backpack, and ran off.

Dong Yao shook her head with a sigh. Gu Shiqiu’s charm was truly a force to be reckoned with; her fanbase spanned every demographic, from middle-aged uncles and aunties to ten-year-old kids.

Even someone like Dong Yao, who didn’t follow the entertainment industry and barely knew any celebrities, had heard a thing or two about her.

She looked into the distance. Not far away, on the door of a small convenience store, hung a promotional poster featuring Gu Shiqiu.

In terms of looks, Gu Shiqiu was indeed so stunning she had few rivals in the industry. It was no wonder these little brats were shouting “wife” at every turn.

Lifting her gaze further up the slope, she saw an elderly woman with white hair pulling a tricycle. The flatbed was piled high with cardboard boxes and flattened plastic bottles.

The old woman took one step and paused for three, occasionally wiping the sweat from her brow.

Dong Yao quickly hopped off the ladder and ran over. She pressed her body against the back of the tricycle, taking on most of the weight.

Feeling the sudden relief of pressure, the old woman turned around and peeked through a gap in the cardboard. “Oh, it’s Xiao Yao.”

After helping her push the cart to the top of the hill, Dong Yao wiped her own sweat. “I say, Grandma Qin, your son has told you a thousand times not to pick up these boxes anymore. Why are you still doing it?”

Grandma Qin patted the boxes like they were treasures. “These can be traded for over ten yuan. I’ve got nothing to do at home anyway; I might as well find a way to earn a little to help out.”

Dong Yao gave a helpless smile. “If you keep this up, I’m going to tell on you to Uncle Qin.”

“Go on then, you,” Grandma Qin teased with a mock glare.

Dong Yao chuckled. “Just don’t pick up so many next time.”

Grandma Qin nodded. “Alright. I owe you one today, Xiao Yao. Thank you.”

Dong Yao pouted, feigning offense. “Just a ‘thank you,’ Grandma? You used to give me candy. Why aren’t you giving me any today?”

Grandma Qin laughed even harder and pulled a brightly colored candy from her pocket. “Fine, fine. How old are you now? Still asking me for candy… three-year-olds aren’t as greedy as you.”

Dong Yao took the candy, peeled back the wrapper, and popped it into her mouth. The flavor spread across her tongue. It was very sweet—just the way she liked it.

As she went to discard the wrapper, she noticed a cartoon character printed on it. Looking closer, it wasn’t hard to tell: the character was the wildly popular Gu Shiqiu.

She even endorses this candy?

She really endorsed everything—from high-end luxury brands down to little candies like this.

Seeing her staring at the wrapper, Grandma Qin asked, “Do you like it?”

Dong Yao hummed in affirmation. “It’s quite sweet.”

Grandma Qin pulled a few more out of her pocket and stuffed them into Dong Yao’s hand. “Eat more if you like them. Your Uncle Qin bought these for me online. Apparently, they’re quite expensive. He really shouldn’t have; what’s an old lady like me doing wasting money on things like this?”

“How is it a waste of money? You bought him candy when he was little, so it’s only right he buys you candy now that he’s grown,” Dong Yao said.

Grandma Qin was charmed. “You child, you’ve had a silver tongue since you were a sprout.”

Dong Yao unceremoniously stuffed the candies into her pocket. “I’m taking the candy, but don’t think this is a bribe. We had a deal: no more overloading the cart with boxes next time.”

“I know, I know. You’re more of a nag than your Uncle Qin.”

After saying goodbye to Grandma Qin, Dong Yao walked with a light step, the candy still in her mouth. Seeing a boy named Xiao Wu playing in the mud by the road, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Playing in the mud again? Your mom’s gonna tan your hide when you get home.”

Xiao Wu stuck his tongue out. “My mom would never hit me.”

Fuqian Town was small. Everyone knew everyone else. There were no cinemas, no cafes, and no food delivery. You even had to go to the county seat just to pick up a package.

It was poor and isolated. In one sense, it had nothing. But in another, it had everything.

In front of a small noodle shop, Zhong Ximei stood at the door wearing an apron. She was holding a broom, sweeping away fallen leaves.

She looked up. “You’re back.”

Dong Yao beamed and ran over.

“I’m so tired,” Dong Yao said, stretching her arms. “Mom, what’s for dinner? Is there that beef stew I’ve been dreaming of?”

Zhong Ximei shot her a look. “It’s pickled vegetables and radishes. Eat it or starve.”

Dong Yao giggled and ran into the shop.

Inside, there were four wooden tables topped with vinegar and chili oil. Four old-fashioned electric fans hung on the walls. There were no customers, and only one fan was running, its “whoosh-whoosh” sound exceptionally loud.

It was humble but clean—the only noodle shop in town.

A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen. Dong Yao sniffed the air. “I knew my Mom was the best! You really did make beef stew.”

She hurried into the kitchen, unable to wait.

Seeing her daughter’s greedy expression, Zhong Ximei shook her head in disdain. “Well, you’re leaving for Tubai City in two days anyway. Once you’re there, you won’t be able to eat home cooking, and you won’t be back for a while. I figured I’d let you eat your fill these last few days.”

Dong Yao’s eyes were fixed on the fragrant pressure cooker. “I’m not going.”

Zhong Ximei’s brow furrowed. “Such a good company sent you a job offer. If you don’t go, what do you plan to do? Just run wild every day? Look at you, covered in paint. How many times have I told you to wear an apron? That paint doesn’t come out; you’ve ruined so many clothes.”

“I’m still not going. I have a family business to inherit, after all. The Dong Family Noodle Shop is waiting for me to bring it to glory.” Dong Yao leaned toward the pressure cooker, impatiently trying to open it.

“Ouch!”

She burned her hand.

Hearing the commotion, Zhong Ximei rushed over. She practicedly grabbed Dong Yao’s hand and held it under cold water. “When are you going to fix that scatterbrained attitude of yours? How many times have you been burned by this cooker? Why don’t you ever learn!”

Dong Yao looked at the reddened skin. “See? I clearly can’t take care of myself. Do you really have the heart to send me so far away? What if I die out there…?”

“Pah, pah, pah!” Zhong Ximei raised a hand and gave her daughter’s head a firm smack. “Don’t talk such nonsense.”

Dong Yao stumbled forward from the force of the smack. “Mom, can’t you be a little gentler?”

Zhong Ximei rummaged through a drawer and pulled out some burn ointment. “Apply it yourself.”

Dong Yao took it happily, found a seat, and began dabbing it on.

Zhong Ximei watched her and sighed helplessly. It seemed that no matter the time or situation, Dong Yao was always cheerful—heartless and carefree.

“Tubai is a big city. That’s where young people like you belong,” Zhong Ximei said.

Dong Yao’s hand paused for a moment. After a brief silence, she joked, “If I leave, won’t you become a ‘left-behind’ mom?”

Zhong Ximei rolled her eyes. “Always talking nonsense.”

The ointment felt cool and refreshing on the burn. Dong Yao dropped her playful facade, turning uncharacteristically serious for a moment. “Mom, stop trying to persuade me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zhong Ximei opened the pressure cooker. Steam billowed out. She ladled out a bowl and set it on the table. “Eat.”

Dong Yao grinned. She picked up a spoon and, without waiting for it to cool, shoved a mouthful into her mouth, inevitably huffing and puffing from the heat.

Zhong Ximei: “Were you a starved ghost in your past life? With the way you act, never mind making a living in Tubai—it’ll be a miracle if you even manage to get married.”

Dong Yao’s eyes crinkled. “So good. Your cooking is unparalleled, Mom. This beef is so fragrant. Don’t eat any, Mom—this whole pot is mine.”

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew,” Zhong Ximei glared.

Dong Yao gulped down a mouthful of broth.

Zhong Ximei seemed a bit distracted.

Dong Yao asked, “Aren’t you eating? You’re really giving the whole pot to your precious daughter?”

Zhong Ximei replied, “I know why you don’t want to go to Tubai. Truly, I’ll be fine here alone. The neighbors are all old friends; we look out for each other.”

Dong Yao swallowed a large piece of beef. “Stop right there, Mom. Don’t make me out to be some saint. I just want to stay home and mooch off your cooking.”

Smack!

Zhong Ximei hit her on the head again.

Dong Yao clutched her head, slightly annoyed. “If you keep hitting me, I’ll turn stupid.”

“You were already born stupid,” Zhong Ximei barked. She grabbed a tissue and tossed it at her. “Your mouth is covered in grease. Wipe it.”

Dong Yao took it and gave her face a messy rub. The bowl of beef vanished in minutes. She picked up the bowl to get more, but—unsurprisingly—got another smack on the head.

“We’re having dinner soon. You can eat more then.” Zhong Ximei snatched the empty bowl away.

Dong Yao started to complain but was silenced by her mother’s sharp glare.

Zhong Ximei put the bowl in the sink and turned on the water. After washing up, she looked through the window at the person sitting outside, sketching on a piece of paper with a pencil.

The drawing didn’t turn out right. Dong Yao crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it toward a nearby trash can.

Clang.

A perfect shot. The paper ball landed squarely in the bin.

“Mom, did you see that? With my talent, why didn’t you train me to play basketball when I was a kid?” Dong Yao tilted her head back proudly. With her clean face, simple ponytail, and loose white T-shirt, she looked like a high schooler barely seventeen or eighteen.

Zhong Ximei ignored her.

Outside, a pitter-patter of rain began to fall, washing away the summer heat.

Dong Yao tossed her pencil and sketchbook onto the table and turned on the TV. The sound of commercials drowned out the whirring of the old fan and the sound of the rain.

The clock on the wall was about to hit six.

Dong Yao yawned and slumped onto the table. Watching the TV, her eyes flickered open and shut.

The commercials ended and a drama began. The person who appeared on screen—long hair flowing, elegant and poised—was Gu Shiqiu.

The clock ticked to exactly 6:00 PM.

Dong Yao closed her eyes and drifted into a hazy sleep.

“Time to get up.”

A soft, warm voice reached her ears.

Dong Yao was exhausted. She couldn’t get up, and she wasn’t even sure where she was. She just hummed a response instinctively.

The gentle voice was relentless. “If you don’t get up, I’m really going to spank you.”

There was a hint of teasing in the words, but even more indulgence.

Swish. The curtains were pulled open.

Dong Yao rubbed her eyes and squinted to adjust to the light. Once she could see, she took in the scene.

A strange room. A strange layout.

Wasn’t I just sleeping on the table in the shop? Where is this? And the person sitting on the edge of the bed…

“Gu Shiqiu?”

Dong Yao chuckled. She lazily lay back down and closed her eyes to go back to sleep.

So it’s a dream. What a weird dream. I don’t even follow celebrities, so why am I dreaming about Gu Shiqiu?

“Why are you lying back down? I’m really going to hit you,” Gu Shiqiu threatened, but her tone was too soft to be intimidating.

Dong Yao replied lazily, “Go ahead then.”

Gu Shiqiu leaned in and actually gave her a light pat.

It didn’t hurt. But then again, you don’t feel pain in dreams.

Gu Shiqiu sounded helpless. “Be good. Breakfast is almost ready; it’ll get cold if you don’t get up. Go wash up quickly, I’m going to heat up a glass of milk.”

The sound of footsteps faded away.

Dong Yao breathed a long sigh of relief. Finally, she could sleep.

Just as she drifted off, the alarm on the nightstand started blaring—ding-ding-ding—a piercing sound.

Dong Yao rolled over in frustration, covering her ears with a pillow, but it was no use. She struggled to reach out and slap the alarm off.

The noise had killed most of her sleepiness. She stared blankly at the ceiling.

What is up with this dream? It feels strangely real.

Dong Yao tried to sit up, but as soon as she moved, she fell back down.

Her waist was incredibly sore and weak.

Frowning, she realized something was wrong. She scanned the room: a spacious, bright area, clean and minimalist, decorated mostly in black and white. The floor was a bit messy, with clothes scattered about. Her undergarments were even draped near the windowsill.

She lifted the blanket. She was stark naked.

The sore waist, the lack of clothing, and the messy room… everything pointed to one thing.

This was a wet dream.

Dong Yao twitched her lips. Fine, a wet dream is one thing, but how come I get the sore waist without the actual ‘process’?

It’s bad enough when novels and TV shows fade to black, but my own dreams are censoring the good parts too??