Foreseeing the Future: The Scheming Movie Queen Married Me - Chapter 3

Dong Yao hurriedly pressed down on her hand, her voice stuttering despite herself. “Wait—just wait a second.”

Gu Shiqiu pinned her wrist back with a counter-grip and used the momentum to press her down. “I can’t wait.”

Dong Yao opened her mouth to speak again, but her lips were sealed by the other woman, leaving her unable to utter another syllable.

Right at this critical moment, a voice called out in her ear.

“Xiao Yao, why are you sleeping again? If you sleep now, are you even going to sleep tonight? Dinner is ready, come over and help me serve the food.” Zhong Ximei’s voice drifted in from a distance.

Before Dong Yao could even react, the Gu Shiqiu who had been pinning her down and causing trouble vanished.

Zhong Ximei called out for a while, and seeing that no one was coming, she poked her head out of the kitchen window. “Why is your face so red?”

Zhong Ximei turned off the stove and walked out of the kitchen. “Do you have a fever?”

“That redness isn’t normal,” Zhong Ximei said, feeling Dong Yao’s forehead. It felt fine, but she still wasn’t convinced. “I’ll go get the thermometer.”

Dong Yao grabbed her hand. “No need, Mom. I don’t have a fever.”

“You’re red as a beet! No, we have to measure it, or I won’t feel easy.” Zhong Ximei pulled out the emergency medical kit.

Medical facilities in the small town were underdeveloped; there was only one health clinic that operated from nine to five. If someone fell ill in the middle of the night, there was nowhere to buy medicine, so the house was always stocked with essentials.

Zhong Ximei flicked the thermometer. “Put it in your mouth.”

Dong Yao had no choice but to bite down on the thermometer. Although she knew perfectly well she didn’t have a fever, she really didn’t have the face to admit she’d just had a wet dream—especially one where the partner was a woman.

The TV was still playing. The female lead, Gu Shiqiu, smiled at the camera, her eyes full of charm—exactly like the person in the dream.

Exactly the same, yet somehow different. On TV, her eyes were clean and gentle. In the dream, her eyes were too… lustful.

Dong Yao’s face heated up again.

Zhong Ximei frowned with worry. “Why is your face getting even redder? It’s been long enough, let me see.”

“36.7°C. No fever. Is this thermometer broken because we haven’t used it in so long?” Zhong Ximei turned the device over to inspect it.

Dong Yao snatched the thermometer back and gave an unnatural cough. “I’m fine, really. I’m not sick; it’s just the weather. It’s too stuffy and hot.”

Zhong Ximei looked at her closely. Seeing that she seemed normal aside from the flushed face, she finally relaxed.

Dong Yao breathed a silent sigh of relief. In a move of blatant “guilty conscience,” she turned off the TV. She didn’t dare look at that woman on the screen for a while.

The TV was off, but her mind was still hyperactive.

Finally, she pulled out her phone and typed into the search bar: Woman dreaming of kissing a woman…

As she typed the last few words, her fingers paused several times. Hesitant and slow, as if too embarrassed to even type it out, she finally finished the query: Why did a woman dream of kissing another woman and actually enjoy it?

Top Answer #1: Because you like women.

Dong Yao’s brow furrowed.

She scanned the second answer: Dreams are inherently nonsensical and imaginative; it’s not surprising to dream of anything. Most dreams have no connection to reality.

Dong Yao’s brow smoothed out.

She let out a long sigh of relief and exited the search interface.

Exactly. It’s just a dream. Why overthink it?

Dong Yao took out her sketchbook and began sketching randomly, trying to distract herself.

Dong Yao had always been a spontaneous artist. If she saw a butterfly flutter by, she’d draw a butterfly; if she saw a bicycle pass, she’d draw a bicycle.

She rarely drew people. But today, the moment she put pen to paper, she unconsciously drew a figure. When the rough outline emerged, Dong Yao froze, her spirit snapping back into her body.

Why did I draw Gu Shiqiu?

Dong Yao stared at the person on the paper. Her hand held the pen, moving, stopping, and moving again. Finally, she crumpled the paper into a ball, raised her hand, and tossed it toward the trash can.

A perfect shot.

She let out a long breath, forcing herself not to think about the events of the dream anymore.

One minute later, Dong Yao stood up, fished the paper back out of the trash, smoothed out the wrinkles, and tucked it into the very last page of her sketchbook.

Since I already drew it, why throw it away? Might as well keep it.

Dong Yao flipped to a new page, pondering what to draw next. But her brain seemed possessed—it was either Gu Shiqiu or more Gu Shiqiu.

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Did you run into some massive problem?” A person walked into the shop. Her hair was past her shoulders, and she wore a loose white T-shirt, casual shorts, and flip-flops.

Her outfit was quite similar to Dong Yao’s. This was Lin Yunyi, Dong Yao’s childhood friend—her “little plum blossom.”

“What brings you here today? No classes at school?” Dong Yao looked at her with slight surprise.

Lin Yunyi walked in. “You must be busy to the point of stupidity. Today is Sunday. The students are all on break; who am I supposed to teach, the air?”

Lin Yunyi sat down across from her and familiarly picked up the teapot to pour herself a drink.

After gulping down a cup of water, she sighed. “This hellish weather. I’m about to die of heat.”

Dong Yao smiled. “If it’s this hot, why didn’t you hide at home instead of running over to find me?”

“Because I missed you! You heartless thing—I think about you every day, but do you ever think of me?” Lin Yunyi looked at her with mock resentment.

Dong Yao placatingly poured her another cup of water. “My fault, my fault. Drink up.”

Lin Yunyi huffed but didn’t press the issue. She leaned over to peek at the sketchbook. “What are you drawing?”

Dong Yao: “Braised Chicken and Rice. When I’m done, I’m going to show it to my mom and act pitiful so she’ll make it for me.”

Lin Yunyi: “…”

Lin Yunyi said she came to play with Dong Yao, but the two didn’t actually “play” together. Dong Yao focused intently on drawing her braised chicken, while Lin Yunyi focused intently on playing with her phone.

Whenever she saw something funny, Lin Yunyi would shove the phone in Dong Yao’s face and laugh until she was out of breath at some comedy video. Then, the two would go back to their own things.

“Want an ice pop?” Dong Yao asked.

Lin Yunyi glanced toward the kitchen. “Is your mom out?”

Dong Yao nodded.

Lin Yunyi raised an eyebrow and then couldn’t hold it in—she burst out laughing. “I say, we’re not exactly kids anymore. Why do we still have to hide eating an ice pop from our parents?”

Dong Yao felt a bit helpless. “Who knows. What flavor do you want?”

“An ‘Old Ice Sucker’ (simple sugar ice pop). That’s the only thing that actually cools you down,” Lin Yunyi said.

Dong Yao put down her sketchbook and got up to leave.

From a corner of the sketchbook, half of a loose sheet of paper was sticking out. Curious, Lin Yunyi reached out and pulled the paper out.

Dong Yao wanted to call out to stop her, but before she could, the paper had already been snatched.

Lin Yunyi studied the wrinkled paper that had clearly been crumpled into a ball. She was surprised. “You drew a portrait?”

Dong Yao rubbed her nose and gave a small “hum” of affirmation.

Lin Yunyi: “I thought you didn’t like drawing portraits.”

Dong Yao gave a small smile. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just put the pen down and drew it on a whim.”

Lin Yunyi looked at her with genuine grievance. “I begged you a thousand times to draw a cartoon portrait of me, and you refused no matter what. How come you can draw other people? I want to see who this is…”

Lin Yunyi went to look closer, but the paper was snatched back by Dong Yao. “It’s nobody.”

Lin Yunyi held out her hand. “Give it here. All this secrecy… what’s going on? Are you hiding a lover behind my back?”

Dong Yao feigned ignorance. “There’s nothing to see.”

Lin Yunyi’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t force me to take it by force!”

After a three-second standoff, Dong Yao eventually compromised. It was only half-finished anyway—just a rough outline. Lin Yunyi could look if she wanted; she probably wouldn’t even recognize it.

“She looks a bit familiar.” Lin Yunyi tilted her head, scrutinizing the sketch.

Dong Yao snatched it back again. “Familiar my foot. I just drew it randomly. Do you want that ice pop or not? If you don’t eat it, you can just sit there and melt.”

Dong Yao tried to steer the topic away, but Lin Yunyi suddenly jumped up. “It’s Gu Shiqiu, right?! I knew it looked familiar! You actually drew my ‘Bias’! Has my constant preaching finally worked? You’ve fallen for her too, haven’t you!!!”

Dong Yao: “Stop being so loud. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Lin Yunyi put an arm around her shoulder, speaking with deep sincerity. “Feel free to love her. She’ll never let you down. My Shiqiu has an incredible work ethic and zero scandals. She has the face of the century, and she’s a powerhouse in singing, acting, and variety shows. She’s so talented—she’s worth your love!”

Dong Yao pried her hand off. “Okay, I get it.”

Lin Yunyi put her hand back on her shoulder. “No, you don’t.”

Dong Yao massaged her temples. Great. I get it. The superfan mode has been activated.

“My Shiqiu is an all-rounder in film, television, and music. She started as a child star and has been voted #1 Most Perfect Face for three years in a row. In 2015, she won the Golden Melody Award for Best Composer for the song ‘Hibiscus,’ and in the same year, ‘The Legend of Sunset Clouds’ won her the Golden Rooster for Best Actress…”

Dong Yao’s head was starting to throb. Lin Yunyi never got tired of these repetitive facts, and Dong Yao had heard them so often she could practically recite them from memory.

At this moment, Dong Yao began to suspect that the reason she was having those dreams was likely because Lin Yunyi whispered her name in her ear every single day. Otherwise, it really didn’t make sense.

Dong Yao nodded perfunctorily. “I know, I know. She’s amazing. Got it.”

Lin Yunyi: “You don’t know! Is ‘amazing’ even enough to describe her? Have you seen the drama Met by Chance that started airing on satellite TV recently? I reminded you a thousand times. Don’t tell me you haven’t watched it! It’s a drama starring my Shiqiu—if you don’t watch it, you’re missing out on a billion!”

Dong Yao: “…”

“Are you listening?”

“Shut up.”

“I won’t.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

Dong Yao couldn’t be bothered with her. She headed out to the small convenience store nearby to buy the ice pops.

When she returned, Lin Yunyi had finally quieted down, her head resting on the table as she scrolled through videos.

“Here.” Dong Yao handed her the ice pop.

Lin Yunyi took it, but her eyes never left her phone screen.

“What are you watching so intently? Eat the ice pop first; it’s going to melt.” Dong Yao curiously peeked at her screen.

Lin Yunyi bit open the packaging with her teeth. “What else would I be watching? My baby Shiqiu, of course.”

Dong Yao: “…”

“Look at this,” Lin Yunyi said, shoving the phone in front of Dong Yao. “The Tubai stop! My Shiqiu’s national tour concert—the next stop is Tubai City.”

Dong Yao took a bite of her ice pop. It was icy and cold, instantly dispelling most of the heat. To Lin Yunyi’s words, she just gave a casual, “Oh.”

“I want to go see it. Tubai isn’t far from here. When the time comes, let’s go together?” Lin Yunyi asked.