My Wife's Ears Are Fuzzy - Chapter 3

Chapter 4

After the party last night raged until the early hours, Gu Xiaofeng—rarely free from filming—crashed and slept the entire day away. When she finally woke up, it was already 4:00 PM.

She lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. It had been a long time since she had fallen into such a deep, heavy slumber.

Since high school, a blurry figure had haunted her dreams—a figure she couldn’t quite see clearly, though the silhouette suggested a girl in ancient attire. Gu Xiaofeng held a strange, conflicting knot of emotions for this phantom: a mixture of love and hatred.

In this most recent sleep, she had inexplicably superimposed the face of the girl who knocked on her door last night onto that dream-figure. To her surprise, the face fit perfectly.

The love intensified. So did the hate.

Even awake, her mind was filled with that beautiful, exquisitely sweet face, yet her teeth itched with a dark impulse to pin her to the ground…

To do what?

Gu Xiaofeng felt like she was losing her mind. She actually imagined a scene where she was both brutally kissing her and violently strangling her. The sheer morbid intensity of the thought startled her. Why would she feel this way? She had only caught a brief glimpse of the girl yesterday.

Gu Xiaofeng puzzled over it. It must be because she wore those ancient clothes, she reasoned. And she wore them so naturally.

She sat up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. As an award-winning actress, her physique was flawless—tall, long-legged, and slender. Her fingers were long and elegant, and as she brushed her hair aside, her snow-white profile seemed to glow with a noble, ethereal beauty. This “cold and otherworldly” aura was exactly why she was the top choice for every major director casting historical dramas.

As she moved to her walk-in closet to pick out clothes, her phone buzzed incessantly. The caller ID read “Wang Baozhen.” Gu Xiaofeng hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, before finally answering.

“Mom, what is it?”

“Nothing much, just wondering if you’re up yet. Figured you would be by now.”

Gu Xiaofeng remained silent, waiting for the real reason for the call.

Predictably, Wang Baozhen’s voice rose in pitch. “Xiaofeng, are you picking a fight with Xiao Xu again? He called me this morning saying you’re ignoring him. He says you haven’t replied to a single message. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Gu Xiaofeng!” her mother snapped. “What’s wrong with Xu Yanzhe? He’s the second son of the Qiangsheng Group, he’s devoted to you, and he does everything to please you. How can you look down on someone like that?”

Gu Xiaofeng had no interest in the lecture. “Mom, I have things to do. The company wants me to discuss a script. Goodbye.”

“What? You do this every time! I’m not finished—”

Gu Xiaofeng tapped the screen, cutting her off. A cold, cynical smile touched her lips.

As she stepped back into the closet, her phone rang again. This time it was her assistant, Xiao Yuan.

“Sis, CEO Tang says there’s a great script he wants to turn into a movie. He thinks you’re perfect for the lead. He wants to meet tomorrow morning at the office.”

Gu Xiaofeng only asked: “What genre?”

“Don’t worry, Sis. You know Tang’s taste. It’s not ‘mature’ content or some low-brow trash. It’s another ancient fantasy, similar to Unfinished Love of Mountains and Seas.”

“Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

After hanging up, Gu Xiaofeng headed to her home gym. Fitness was a mandatory part of her life; whenever she wasn’t on set, she made time to work out. After thirty minutes on the treadmill, she showered and headed to the kitchen for some fresh juice.

The fridge was well-stocked with beer and wine—leftovers from when her friend Fang Yueshi stayed over months ago—but she realized she had forgotten to ask Xiao Yuan to buy fruit. With a sigh, she called the property manager to arrange for a delivery of fruit and yogurt.

It was a rare day of rest. Gu Xiaofeng sat on her terrace, doing nothing, thinking of nothing. Scripts, filming, schedules, her mother, and that strange dream… she let it all drift away.

She sipped her freshly squeezed orange juice, watching the sunset bathe the mountains in a golden glow. It was a moment of perfect relaxation—until she caught a scent.

It was chicken soup.

Gu Xiaofeng had tasted “mountain-raised, organic” chicken soup many times, but she had never smelled anything like this. She couldn’t help but sniff the air. It was wafting over from Villa No. 1.

The aroma was unique, yet strangely familiar. It felt as if a memory buried deep in her soul was being awakened, a scent designed specifically to lure her in.

The “Cold Queen” of the silver screen sat motionless, expressionless, taking a calm sip of her juice. It tasted bitter and flat. She frowned. For the first time, Gu Xiaofeng felt a genuine disdain for her own orange juice.

Recalling her brief encounter with the neighbor yesterday, Gu Xiaofeng’s lips curled slightly. That girl in the ancient robes… she had odd speech, but she was polite. She probably wouldn’t turn her away.

At that thought, the usually aloof and reserved Best Actress could no longer sit still.