Foreseeing the Future: The Scheming Movie Queen Married Me - Chapter 6

She had already guessed it, but seeing the name “Gu Shiqiu” still sent a jolt of shock through her.

Dong Yao recalled the details of her dream again. Gu Shiqiu’s face flickered in her mind constantly—unfading, inescapable, and impossible to drive away.

Dong Yao formed a bold hypothesis: those dreams were the future.

She was foreseeing the future.

Her gaze fell upon the tickets once more. Her fate with Gu Shiqiu likely began with this very concert.

However, Dong Yao frowned. Something didn’t add up. Even if it were the future, and even if she really met Gu Shiqiu because of this concert, at most they should just become friends. Though incredible, it wasn’t impossible.

But the ambiguous atmosphere in the dreams was far too much—so much so that Dong Yao instinctively felt they were “indecent” dreams.

Was I dating Gu Shiqiu?

Impossible. She didn’t know if Gu Shiqiu was gay, but she knew for a fact that she absolutely was not!

Unless… is Gu Shiqiu actually a man in disguise?

Dong Yao thought of many possibilities, but in the end, she couldn’t make sense of any of them. At her core, she didn’t truly believe in the supernatural. Perhaps this was all just overthinking, a product of her imagination.

Dong Yao turned on the TV and stared at the clock on the wall. Every time she had that dream, it was 6:00 PM—the time the drama started.

If she fell asleep and dreamed of Gu Shiqiu again this time, she would choose to believe. She would believe in the nearly impossible.

6:00 PM arrived. The drama started on time. Unlike before, Dong Yao was wide awake, without a hint of sleepiness.

Not giving up, she slumped onto the table, trying to force herself to sleep.

One minute passed. Two minutes. Three. Four…

Dong Yao opened her eyes. She was still in the shop. The old fan was whirring, and the TV was noisy.

She hadn’t fallen asleep, and she certainly wasn’t dreaming.

So, I really was just overthinking it.

For a moment, Dong Yao didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

In the days that followed, she didn’t dream of Gu Shiqiu again. The dreams seemed to fade with time, proving they were indeed just dreams.

Dong Yao looked at the concert tickets in her hand, hesitating. To go or not to go?

Forget it. There’s no point. I won’t go.

She tossed the tickets aside.

Saturday, the day of the concert. Dong Yao was sitting on a long-distance bus.

She hadn’t intended to go, but once Lin Yunyi found out she had tickets, her friend practically jumped for joy. Through a combination of persuasion and physical dragging, she had forced the reluctant Dong Yao onto the bus.

From Fuqian Town to Tubai, it took two hours by bus to reach the county seat, followed by a train transfer. The entire journey took five to six hours.

By the time they got off the bus and found their seats on the train, Dong Yao was exhausted.

Lin Yunyi, however, was still riding the high of the upcoming concert, showing no signs of fatigue. She was busy taking selfies here and there, having already posted four or five times to her social feed.

Dong Yao looked at Lin Yunyi, who was preparing her sixth post. “Give it a rest. You’re spamming everyone’s feed.”

Lin Yunyi looked at the photo she was about to send, hovered over the button, and finally clicked cancel. “True. I can’t post any more. The goal was to show off, but if I post too much, I’ll just look like a total newbie.”

Dong Yao stifled a laugh.

Lin Yunyi glared at her. “What are you laughing at? I really do want to brag! This is my Shiqiu’s concert. Front row! Do you know how hard it is to get front-row seats? You don’t. You have no idea how precious these tickets are!”

“And you actually wanted to throw them in a corner and not come! If I hadn’t found them in time, you would have wasted them!!!”

Dong Yao nodded. “Fine, fine. You keep doing your thing; I’m going to nap for a bit. This trip is too much work.”

Lin Yunyi checked the time. “The train arrives in about an hour. Go ahead and sleep; I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Dong Yao leaned her head on the table, facing the window. It had been sunny when they boarded, but now it was raining. The rain pitter-pattered against the glass.

As the scenery outside rushed past, Dong Yao slowly drifted into a deep sleep. The time was exactly 6:00 PM.

Dong Yao half-squinted her eyes, rubbed her stiff neck, and let out a yawn. “How long was I out? Are we not there yet?”

“You slept for half an hour. We’re almost there, about five minutes away,” a male voice replied.

Dong Yao’s brain short-circuited for a second. She snapped her eyes open, all traces of sleep vanishing.

Looking around, she found herself sitting inside a car. The person who had just spoken was the driver. She could see his face in the rearview mirror—square-jawed, in his forties, sturdy build, wearing a black suit.

He was a complete stranger.

Am I dreaming again?

The driver glanced at her through the mirror. Seeing her strange expression, he asked, “Are you alright? Do you feel unwell?”

Dong Yao didn’t answer. She looked down and accidentally caught sight of the back of her hand. Her pupils dilated. The wound she had made with the fruit knife was still there—not a bloody mess anymore, but a faint, distinct scar.

She turned to look out the window. Distant skyscrapers and unfamiliar street scenes flashed by. On a giant advertising screen in a far-off plaza, the year was clearly displayed: 2026.

Five years later? Is this the world five years into the future?

Dong Yao touched the scar on her hand, lost in thought.

The car pulled up in front of a restaurant. “Miss Dong, we’ve arrived.”

The driver got out and opened the door for her, placing one hand on the top of the frame to protect her head as he stepped aside.

Dong Yao steadied her nerves, took a deep breath, and stepped out. She scanned her surroundings and immediately saw Gu Shiqiu standing by the restaurant entrance.

She thought this dream might not include her, but there she was. She was always there, every single time, without exception. What exactly is our relationship?

Gu Shiqiu walked over slowly, her tone intimate. “What are you thinking about? You’ve been dazed since you got out of the car.”

Dong Yao gazed at the woman approaching her.

Gu Shiqiu raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers were pale and slender. On her wrist, there was a tiny, faint mole.

Against her snow-white skin, that small black dot made her hand look even more elegant.

Gu Shiqiu reached her and took Dong Yao’s hand. “Let’s go. Didn’t you say the other day that you wanted to eat sushi here? I’ve already ordered. Let’s head in.”

Dong Yao turned her head, her heart pounding. She adjusted her breathing and asked, “Are we… in a relationship?”

Gu Shiqiu looked at her with amusement. “Why ask that? Don’t tell me you suddenly don’t want me anymore?”

Dong Yao froze. It seemed they really were dating.

But she had liked boys her whole life. Even though she’d never been in a relationship, she was certain she was a “standard straight girl.” Though she appreciated beautiful women, appreciation was one thing—she had never considered dating one.

Dong Yao looked Gu Shiqiu up and down. The woman possessed every trait of feminine beauty; there wasn’t a hint of masculinity. She couldn’t possibly be a man in disguise.

“Um…” Dong Yao gave an awkward smile. “Forgive me for asking, but why are you dressed as a woman? Is it for work?”

“You’re doing it again,” Gu Shiqiu said helplessly. She leaned in, whispering ambiguously into Dong Yao’s ear: “Whether I’m a girl or not… didn’t you verify that a long time ago? If you don’t remember, I don’t mind letting you check again tonight.”

The breath hit her ear, tickling her. Dong Yao instinctively pulled back, her face heating up for no reason.

“Xiao Yao, wake up. We’re at the station; it’s time to get off.” The voice drifted from afar.

The scene before her eyes blurred and dissolved.

Opening her eyes, Dong Yao was back on the train. Lin Yunyi was clearing the trash from the table and putting on her backpack. “We’re here. Let’s go.”

Dong Yao patted her face to wake herself up. She gathered her things and followed the crowd toward the carriage door.

She went to the restroom and turned on the faucet. The water flowed loudly. She cupped the water in her hands and splashed her face. The icy water cleared her muddled thoughts completely.

Dong Yao recalled the details of the dream she’d just had. She remembered the small black mole on Gu Shiqiu’s wrist.

She hadn’t specifically followed Gu Shiqiu. Her only exposure was two episodes of a drama and whatever Lin Yunyi rambled about. There was no way she could know a detail as specific as a mole on her wrist.

Dong Yao pulled out her phone and typed into the search bar: Does Gu Shiqiu have a mole on her wrist?

If the result was yes, it would practically prove that the dream wasn’t a dream or a hallucination—it was the actual future.

The search results came up. There was no information about it.

Dong Yao clicked on a high-res photo of Gu Shiqiu and zoomed in. Her wrists were clean; there was no mole.

Dong Yao was stunned.

Refusing to give up, she found another photo where the wrist was visible. She checked four or five photos in a row.

Nothing.

How can there be nothing?

She was a mess of confusion. Was it the future? What was going on? Had she really lost her mind?

“Are you done yet?” Lin Yunyi called out impatiently from outside the restroom.

Dong Yao gripped the tickets tightly. Whether it was real or fake, today’s concert might finally provide the answer.