Waking Up to a Contract Marriage with the Film Queen - Chapter 12

Le Yiqiu decided that total honesty was her best tactical move. She laid everything out for Lin Xianing.

“I’ve realized that as long as I look at professional materials—the things I studied before—the knowledge just floods back into my mind,” Le Yiqiu explained. “The more I study, the sharper the impression becomes, and I can use the skills just as skillfully as I ever did.”

Lin Xianing stared at Le Yiqiu’s forehead with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Has your memory returned?”

“No. My experiences are still gone, but the academic and professional data is restoring itself.” Le Yiqiu tapped her temple. To be honest, she wasn’t in a rush to remember her past. Professional skills were useful in the modern world; traumatic memories were not. She suspected that for her “future self” to have become a shut-in, something devastating must have happened. If it was bad, why chase it?

Lin Xianing nodded slowly. She felt conflicted—this version of Le Yiqiu was wonderful, yet she also felt incomplete. Human emotions were never simple, and hers were no exception.

“By the way,” Le Yiqiu added, shifting gears. “I ran into Luo Yaxi on the high-speed rail today.”

She recounted the entire encounter, from the initial “stranger danger” to the revelation of the hit-and-run scandal. As she spoke, she forwarded the address of the hotel where Luo Yaxi was hiding. “She’s already checked in nearby.”

Lin Xianing let out a soft “Mm” of acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

She knew the stakes. With so many paparazzi lurking around the set, any association between her name and a “luxury car hit-and-run” would explode from a local scandal into a national headline. Scammers and tabloids would feast on it. Le Yiqiu had handled it perfectly by keeping the girl away from the set.

“I’ll take care of it,” Lin Xianing said. She called Luo Yaxi immediately. After listening to a frantic, tearful explanation, her response was clipped: “Go home tomorrow. I’m sending a lawyer to handle the situation.”

“Don’t tell my mother, please!” Luo Yaxi wailed over the phone. “She’ll tear me apart!”

Lin Xianing’s head throbbed at the thought of her aunt. The woman didn’t just pick favorites; she picked fights with everyone, including her own daughter. “Stay put. Don’t go anywhere until the lawyer arrives.”

“But the stuff they’re saying online…”

“I’ll handle it,” Lin Xianing said, then hung up.

Public relations and internet “water armies” were the domain of talent agencies. Lin Xianing had her own studio, but she didn’t want her team’s name attached to this. If a rival agency caught wind that her studio was suppressing a hit-and-run story, they would use it as ammunition against her.

Le Yiqiu watched her pensive expression. “I know someone in talent management. If it’s inconvenient for your team, she can handle it quietly.”

Lin Xianing wasn’t worried about convenience; she was calculating the safest distance. This kind of mess required money and discretion. It needed to be contained. Le Yiqiu’s suggestion of a third party was actually more logical.

But then, she paused. “Since when do you know a talent agent?”

“I don’t know,” Le Yiqiu admitted. “I found her in my phone. Apparently, we’ve been in frequent contact for years and have a good relationship. She’s the one who got me this screenwriting job.”

Years of frequent contact. Good relationship.

Lin Xianing’s chest tightened with a sudden, inexplicable irritation. “No need.”

“Why not?” Le Yiqiu asked. “You were just trying to figure out who could step in without making a scene. You find the lawyers, and I’ll handle the internet side.”

Lin Xianing didn’t respond immediately. She looked at Le Yiqiu, her gaze fixed. “Given our relationship… you don’t need to do this.”

She tried to keep her voice cold, but she could feel a warmth spreading through her chest at Le Yiqiu’s protective streak. She knew what that feeling was, and she hated how easily her iron-clad resolve was melting.

Le Yiqiu tilted her head, her eyes so sincere that Lin Xianing had to look away. She turned to the floor-to-ceiling window. Her floor was high enough to be private; the curtains were open, revealing the sprawling Film City below. Under the night sky, the lit-up sets looked like a glorious ancient capital. It was a beautiful view, but Lin Xianing’s words remained frozen.

“What is our relationship?” Le Yiqiu asked softly. “A contract marriage?”

“That was something that happened in a past I don’t remember. Whatever the reason we became this, I have no memory of it. It’s as if it never happened.” Le Yiqiu stepped closer. “In my heart, we have no history. But the law has us tied together.”

Lin Xianing’s heart turned to ice. Her tone became as sharp as a winter wind. “In that case, my family matters are none of your concern.” She turned back, her face a mask of cold indifference. “Sign the divorce papers as soon as possible. Let’s stop wasting each other’s time.”

Seeing the misunderstanding, Le Yiqiu stepped into her space. “The first person I saw when I woke up was you. If that first spark was an illusion, then every meeting since has only made it deeper.”

“I think I love you.”

Love? Le Yiqiu had never loved anyone before, but Lin Xianing was her literal ideal. Every flutter in her heart felt undeniably real.

Lin Xianing suddenly lunged for the curtains. Just as she was about to pull them shut, she froze. “What could you possibly love about me?”

Her voice was thick with helplessness. No matter how many walls she built, they seemed to crumble the moment this woman spoke. But she couldn’t allow this. Not again.

Le Yiqiu leaned casually against the window frame, watching her with an intense, focused gaze. She held up her hand and began ticking fingers. “You’re beautiful. You’re a mature, sophisticated goddess. You’re my exact type.”

“Mature goddesses are the yyds (GOAT).”

yyds? Lin Xianing blinked. She’d seen the slang online but never expected to hear it in a confession. The absurdity of it washed away her melancholy, and she had to press her lips together to keep from smiling.

She tried to regain her composure. “I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “But I prefer younger girls.”

“Sister,” Le Yiqiu chirped, instantly switching to a “good girl” act. “I’m only eighteen.”

Technically, she was. Waking up ten years older wasn’t her choice, after all.

Lin Xianing: “…”

Looking at the utterly shameless woman before her, she felt a wave of exhaustion—and an even stronger wave of attraction. She turned away and sat back on the sofa. “It’s late. Go back to your room.”

Le Yiqiu checked her phone. It was only 8:00 PM. But she didn’t push her luck. She walked toward the door, stopping just as her hand hit the handle.

“Can I court you?” she asked suddenly.

Before Lin Xianing could even process the question, let alone answer it, Le Yiqiu pulled the door open and vanished into the hallway.

As long as I run away fast enough, she can’t say no.

Lin Xianing: “???”

The question echoed in the quiet suite. Lin Xianing sat in the dim light, her eyes shimmering. No one could have guessed what she was thinking in that moment.

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