My Wife's Ears Are Fuzzy - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ding-dong, ding-dong…

Tu Yiyi sat regally at her grand long table, a large pot of steaming chicken soup before her. Zhuo Jin picked up a golden spoon, carefully ladled a bowl, and placed it respectfully in front of her.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Jian Lei immediately tensed up, slipping toward the window, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. He was a timid soul, naturally hyper-vigilant; the slightest disturbance sent him into a panic.

Tu Yiyi took a slow sip of the hot soup, narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, and gave Zhuo Jin a simple command: “Go open the door.”

Zhuo Jin went to the door. Moments later, his voice drifted back: “Miss, your neighbor is here for a return visit. She says you visited her place last night.”

It was the neighbor! Having just watched Unfinished Love of Mountains and Seas, Tu Yiyi’s fondness for her had skyrocketed. “Please, show her in!”

This was the first time Gu Xiaofeng had seen someone occupy such a massive table for a solitary meal, yet the girl sat there with such natural poise, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Gu Xiaofeng scanned the table. Seeing no fruit, she felt a small wave of relief and offered an inconspicuous smile. “I’m very sorry for disturbing you last night.” She placed the high-end fruit she had ordered through the property manager on the table.

Her subtext was clear: I’ve brought a gift to apologize in person; perhaps you should politely invite me to stay for a bite?

The odds of the aloof Movie Queen Gu “mooching” a meal were lower than winning a hundred-million-dollar lottery. Anyone else would have been overjoyed, likely dragging her into a selfie for their social media feed.

“Thank you, I accept your apology. Please, sit. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Gu Xiaofeng replied, wasting no time in accepting the “invitation.”

“Zhuo Jin, give… ‘Grass’ a glass of fresh juice.” Seeing grapes among the fruit, Tu Yiyi tried to be a considerate host. “Make a glass of grape juice.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Gu Xiaofeng’s brow twitched slightly. This girl looks refined and well-bred, so why does she keep saying ‘Grass’ (a common Chinese homophone for a swear word)? Furthermore: I don’t want juice, I want that chicken soup.

“Miss Grass, I was so sad when you died.”

Tu Yiyi took a large gulp of soup. Recalling the tragic and noble death of the heroine “Fang Cao” (Fragrant Grass), her nose tickled and her eyes welled with tears. “I’m so happy to see you alive! Grass, you really shouldn’t have taken that sword for Duan Tianqi! He’s a god; he has magic and wouldn’t have died. You’re different—you’re a mere mortal. I could kill you with a flick of my fingernail. Don’t go rushing out like that again. A human needs a little self-awareness.”

Gu Xiaofeng: “…” What?! Is she implying I have no self-awareness?!

Gu Xiaofeng turned a cold gaze toward her. White shirt, hair in a bun, fair skin… she realized that in normal clothes, the girl looked unexpectedly stunning—none of that “ethereal weirdness” from the night before. She had the fresh purity of a lotus emerging from water. One could almost use a line from a script: She is too beautiful to be mortal.

Gu Xiaofeng dazed for a moment, but quickly snapped back. This “Little White Lotus” was using a movie plot to insult her!

“I don’t need you to teach me how to be human,” Gu Xiaofeng replied frostily. “I was simply acting according to the script.”

Her tone was sharp. Though anyone living in Villa No. 1 was clearly influential, Tang Huan Entertainment was no small fry either. Her boss’s father was one of the wealthiest men in S-City.

The “White Lotus” didn’t seem to notice the barb. Instead, she excitedly grabbed Gu Xiaofeng’s wrist. Gu Xiaofeng’s body tensed instantly. She stared at the hand on her wrist, her brows knitting together, but seeing those clear, soulful eyes and that sweet smile, she hesitated and didn’t pull away.

“Oh! You were acting! I remember now! It’s a movie—you’re all just pretending! Grass! That’s wonderful!”

Gu Xiaofeng finally snapped. “My name is Gu Xiaofeng. Please stop calling me ‘Grass’.”

The girl blinked. “You’re not Grass?! Ah, I see. Fang Cao is the character’s name, but your real name is Gu Xiaofeng!” She looked genuinely apologetic. “I am so sorry, Miss Gu. I was being rude.”

In an instant, she reverted to her pure, sweet, “noble daughter” persona. It was as if the person swearing every other word just seconds ago had never existed. Gu Xiaofeng thought: If this girl entered showbiz, her looks and acting skills would make her an overnight sensation.

“Miss, the juice is ready,” Zhuo Jin announced.

Tu Yiyi nodded. “Did you wear gloves the whole time?” She couldn’t have her food touched by a “cockroach.”

Zhuo Jin gave a breeze-like smile. “The entire time. Please enjoy.”

Gu Xiaofeng realized both of the girl’s servants were exceptionally handsome. If they joined a boy band, their “flower boy” looks would cause a riot.

“Miss, please.” Zhuo Jin, in a black suit, stood perfectly straight and bowed as he offered the juice.

The level of respect was almost uncomfortable. Gu Xiaofeng took the crystal glass. “This is Miss Gu,” Tu Yiyi said. “Treat her with the same respect as you would the most distinguished guest.”

“Yes, Miss!” they chorused.

Tu Yiyi smiled sweetly. “These are my house servants. The one with the juice is Zhuo Jin, and this is Jian Lei.”

Zhuo Jin sounds like ‘My Wife’ and Jian Lei sounds like ‘My Lowly Wife’?!

The Movie Queen’s composure nearly shattered. She almost spat out her grape juice.

“What’s wrong?” Tu Yiyi asked.

“N-nothing,” the Movie Queen stammered, her face flushing as she made an excuse. “The juice is just… very sweet.”

Zhuo Jin suggested, “Miss, should we give Miss Gu a bowl of chicken soup to calm her nerves?”

Finally! Gu Xiaofeng thought. She put her acting skills to use, coughing delicately and looking frail, as if only that soup could soothe her throat. Zhuo Jin ladled a bowl and placed it before her. She offered an elegant thanks.

However, before the bowl could touch her lips, a slender white hand blocked it and pushed it back toward the center of the table.

“She can’t drink that.”

The soup flew away. Gu Xiaofeng: “…”

By the time she looked up, her face was a mask of cold indifference, but she was sneering internally. Protecting your food like a dog? What a stingy White Lotus!

“Miss Gu, this soup isn’t suitable for you. Drink something else to settle your nerves,” Tu Yiyi commanded. “Zhuo Jin, brew a pot of Bi Luo Chun tea for Miss Gu.”

And so, the scene became: Tu Yiyi bowing her head to drink soup, while Gu Xiaofeng sat clutching a cup of tea. Though the actress remained expressionless, she radiated a low-pressure chill.

Tu Yiyi, seemingly oblivious, began enthusiastically asking about how movies are made. Gu Xiaofeng gave clipped, lukewarm answers: “Green screens, props, wire work, blood bags, post-production…”

The more she asked, the colder Gu Xiaofeng’s gaze became. If looks could freeze, Tu Yiyi would be buried under a Siberian glacier by now.

When the pot was nearly empty, Tu Yiyi blushed slightly and stood up. “Pardon me, I must step away for a moment.” She instinctively tried to lift a skirt, realized she was wearing pants, and walked briskly to the restroom.

Zhuo Jin and Jian Lei followed her—one carrying a basin of warm water with rose petals, the other holding a towel, waiting outside the door.

Gu Xiaofeng was once again stunned. Such extravagance. However… now that she was alone… she turned her gaze toward the bowl of soup that had been snatched away.

Soon, Tu Yiyi returned, smelling faintly of roses.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. Thank you for the hospitality; I must take my leave.” Gu Xiaofeng rose, finding herself speaking in the same archaic, formal tone as the trio.

Tu Yiyi felt a pang of regret; she hadn’t learned enough behind-the-scenes secrets yet. “Miss Gu, please come by often.”

Thinking of that heavenly soup, Gu Xiaofeng’s lips curved. “I certainly will.” The girl is a bit of a nutcase, but for that soup, I’ll definitely be back.

After seeing her off, Tu Yiyi was over the moon. Fang Cao is so beautiful! Even in this world’s clothes, she’s a goddess! She turned back to the table and froze. The bowl of chicken soup that had been sitting in front of Fang Cao’s seat… was empty!

Tu Yiyi panicked.

Back at her own home, Gu Xiaofeng was glowing, perhaps due to the soup. She hummed a song as she picked up a script on the sofa.

This was her next project: a spy thriller. She was to play a brilliant undercover agent infiltrating the enemy. In the end, to cover her comrades’ retreat, she dies after killing a traitor.

Dead again? She sighed, resting her long legs on the coffee table as she studied the lines. Her phone rang—it was her assistant, Xiao Yuan, saying she wouldn’t be coming over tonight because she was staying with her girlfriend. Gu Xiaofeng smiled and told her to enjoy her night.

Gu Xiaofeng was selective with her roles. She usually played strong, complex women. Her debut was Unfinished Love of Mountains and Seas, where the ending broke everyone’s hearts. Her new film, Hidden, was a Republic-era piece involving qipaos, military uniforms, and gunplay—a new challenge for her.

The phone rang again. Her face darkened when she saw the name: Xu Yanzhe.

She answered. He started a long, rambling apology for his affair with an actress named Chen Xin, offering to buy her a luxury car to make up for it. Xu Yanzhe was the son of a wealthy tycoon and a “young master” in the industry, used to getting his way.

“Save your gifts for Chen Xin,” she said coldly.

“Gu Xiaofeng, that’s enough!” he snapped. “I’ve apologized and groveled! I just made the mistake any man would make—it was just a fling! You’re beautiful, but you’re a block of wood. I can’t even touch you! If you won’t let me, am I even your boyfriend?!”

“No,” she said without blinking. “You never were.”

Xu Yanzhe was stunned. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, yet Gu Xiaofeng treated him like nothing. He began to beg again, but she hung up.

The call ruined her mood. She showered and went to bed. Staring at the moonlight through the window, she gave a self-mocking laugh. Thanks to “Young Master Xu,” rumors of them dating were everywhere—likely his own doing through “leaked” set photos. She felt nothing but disgust for him.

She looked at her left wrist. Today, that strange neighbor had touched her there. Normally, Gu Xiaofeng loathed physical contact and would have recoiled. But today, she hadn’t. She didn’t find it repulsive at all.

Thinking of the neighbor’s face, she remembered the blurry person in her dreams.

Who could resist those innocent, sweet eyes? she thought. Nobody.

Feeling a sense of relief, she drifted toward sleep. Her last thought was a strange one: That chicken soup really is magical… I don’t even need my sleeping pills tonight.