Waking Up to a Contract Marriage with the Film Queen - Chapter 2

The woman standing at the door stared at her, her expression unreadable and her tone cold. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Didn’t we agree? You were supposed to come find me.”

Le Yiqiu was momentarily dazed by the woman’s beauty, but as someone who had grown up largely independent, her guard went up instinctively. She was wary of strangers, and this stranger’s tone was anything but friendly.

Still, a gut feeling was beginning to take root. This woman had the keys to her house and spoke with the sharp authority of someone who had every right to demand answers.

Between the “Married” status on her registry and the reality of her current life, Le Yiqiu already had a strong suspicion about who this was.

The woman walked toward her, pulled a document from her bag, and handed it over. Bold letters at the top read: Divorce Agreement.

“Sign it.”

The command was blunt, stripped of any obvious emotion.

Le Yiqiu didn’t care about the cold shoulder. She was focused on one thing: confirmation. So, this really is my wife.

From the agreement, she learned her wife’s name: Lin Xianing. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

Knowing Lin Xianing was her wife allowed Le Yiqiu to relax. Since they were married, there was no need to treat her like a threat. Instead, she took the liberty of shamelessly admiring her.

Lin Xianing was more stunning than most celebrities. She wore a long red dress—a simple cut, yet on her, it looked regal and sophisticated. The vibrant red made her pale skin look luminous, giving her a sultry but elegant glow.

She had perfect proportions and looked to be about 170cm tall. Her aura was a curious mix of gentle restraint and bold radiance. Usually, these traits would clash, but on her, they existed in perfect harmony. Perhaps it was the dress, or perhaps it was her exquisitely refined features, but she was breathtaking.

Lin Xianing was the kind of beauty people would lose their minds over. Le Yiqiu was no exception—especially since this woman was her literal “ideal type.”

Seeing Le Yiqiu staring blankly at her, Lin Xianing frowned, ready to speak. But before she could, Le Yiqiu snatched the divorce agreement and hid it behind her back, her expression turning playful.

Le Yiqiu had skimmed enough to see the “breakup fee”—ten million dollars. It was a lot of money, but she had no real concept of wealth yet. She was far too preoccupied with the joy of finding out her dream girl was actually her wife.

Divorce? What divorce?

You don’t just find a perfect, tailor-made wife and then let her go. Le Yiqiu didn’t know why the “future her” wanted out—maybe the spark had died? Well, that had nothing to do with this Le Yiqiu. She hadn’t even started yet! She deserved a chance to woo her.

“Um… Wife?” Calling her that out loud made her a bit shy.

Le Yiqiu gave a sheepish smile. “How about we think this over? Maybe… maybe we still have feelings for each other?”

Lin Xianing: “???”

Le Yiqiu blinked innocently. She just wanted to experience romance, and now that she had a goddess for a wife, she wasn’t giving up without a fight.

Whether this was amnesia or time travel, she knew she couldn’t hide it forever. People who knew her would eventually notice she was missing ten years of her life. She didn’t plan on faking it.

To the world, she would just be an amnesiac. At twenty-eight, her peers were too old for “Chuunibyou” fantasies; no one would believe she was actually an eighteen-year-old soul in a grown woman’s body.

Speaking of amnesia, Le Yiqiu realized she might have actual brain trauma. She needed a full check-up. Her head had been throbbing since she woke up. She valued her life; life was too short and there was too much to do to let her health fail her now.

“You…?”

Lin Xianing looked at the sunny, smiling woman before her and felt a sudden, disorienting sense of deja vu. It was as if the person in front of her hadn’t changed at all—as if she was the same girl from years ago.

The moment passed quickly. Lin Xianing realized something was wrong. This wasn’t the Le Yiqiu she knew, even if the face was the same.

Seeing her trail off, Le Yiqiu tilted her head. “Why do we want to get a divorce, anyway?”

Lin Xianing didn’t answer immediately. She couldn’t fathom why Le Yiqiu was even asking. To her, their marriage had been a mistake from the start, and divorce was simply correcting a long-standing error.

But Le Yiqiu was different today. Her words, her smile, her entire vibe… it was like the girl from university. Radiant. The kind of person who could turn a cloudy day into pure sunshine just by being there.

She wasn’t the gloomy, silent woman she had become—the one who refused to say a single word regardless of the situation.

And just now… was Le Yiqiu trying to get her to stay? Their relationship was not the kind where the word “stay” even existed.

Lin Xianing wanted to dig deeper, but remembering what Le Yiqiu had said the other day, her expression hardened again. Just as she was about to press the issue of the divorce, a hurried voice came from the hallway.

“Boss, we’re running out of time!”

Boss? The person at the door seemed to be Lin Xianing’s assistant. Le Yiqiu looked up, but the assistant didn’t even acknowledge her. As the woman left, she caught Le Yiqiu’s eye and flashed a look of pure, unadulterated disdain.

Lin Xianing looked exhausted. Whether it was the relationship or work, deep fatigue was etched into her eyes. She didn’t have the energy for a long talk.

“Tell me when you’re ready to sign,” she said, and then she was gone.

******

Le Yiqiu was left in a state of high-strung excitement. The “new” house was starting to feel real, and she had just met her dream woman. Meeting your ideal type was like witnessing a miracle. She wasn’t “in love” yet—it had only been a second—but her heart was definitely racing.

Her priority now was figuring out her situation. Her head was still thrumming with a dull ache.

She opened WeChat and her first thought was Luo Luo. Her parents had never been her support system; while other eighteen-year-olds ran to their mothers, she ran to her friends.

She navigated the “new” WeChat features and found Luo Luo pinned at the top. She checked their history before calling. The last messages were from two hours ago.

Luo Luo: How’s your head?

Luo Luo: Maybe go to the hospital? I’m flying back now. Should be there in three hours.

Wait, I’m injured? Le Yiqiu touched the sore spot on her head. No wonder the pain was so sharp.

Her own reply was short: I’ll just sleep it off. If it still hurts later, I’ll go.

Twenty-eight-year-old me is an idiot, she thought. Who sleeps off a head injury?

She searched her room and found her documents in the nightstand, right where she always kept them. Her ID and insurance cards were updated. The photo showed a version of herself with light makeup and much paler skin.

Back in 2013, she was athletic and had a healthy, sun-kissed glow. But the woman in the 2020 ID photo was strikingly pale. Looking in the bathroom mirror again, she saw her lips were bloodless and she looked sickly.

She couldn’t imagine what had happened in these ten years to turn her into such a shut-in. Her pajamas were faded from too many washes. The “old” Le Yiqiu was a fashionista; she wouldn’t be caught dead in rags. Had her career gone so poorly she couldn’t afford new clothes?

Her wardrobe was small, mostly full of new-looking clothes she seemingly never wore. It was as if she spent every day lying around in pajamas. The house was clean, though—almost obsessively so. Everything was arranged with clinical precision.

Am I… retired? Living the hermit life?

She changed into a white T-shirt and jeans. Suddenly, she looked like a college student again—full of life.

She looked around the room, feeling like something was missing. Then she noticed the heavy curtains. It was broad daylight, yet they were pulled tight. No wonder I look like a ghost; I haven’t seen the sun in years.

She walked to the balcony connected to the living room. As she pulled the curtains back, the sight of the outside world hit her like a meteor.

In ten years, the old factory district had been replaced by a forest of skyscrapers. But what truly shocked her was the massive LED screen on the shopping mall across the street.

Lin Xianing was on it.

Le Yiqiu pulled out her phone and searched the name.

Lin Xianing: Grand Slam Film Queen. Ultra-A-list superstar. Every title was a pinnacle of the industry. Le Yiqiu felt a surge of pride. My wife is amazing!

Then she remembered the assistant’s look—the look you give a “scumbag” partner. It suggested she was the one at fault for the divorce.

How could I let a wife like this go? she wondered. Was my twenty-eight-year-old brain actually broken?

Then she noticed something. The divorce agreement had two pages. She flipped to the second sheet and scanned it quickly.

Contract Marriage.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her marriage to Lin Xianing was a lie? They were just… business partners?

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