Waking Up to a Contract Marriage with the Film Queen - Chapter 8

Thanks to her agent Zhao Yu’s quick work, the production crew for Humanity’s Inner Evil—who had bought the rights through her—was happy to grant a request for an on-set screenwriter. Le Yiqiu was told to report to the set within three days.

She immediately began packing. Traveling was easy now; a few taps on her phone and she had a high-speed rail ticket. The filming location was on the outskirts of Jianglin, barely an hour away.

On the afternoon of the 20th, she was pushing her suitcase into the living room when the doorbell rang.

Browsing her WeChat history, she realized her “future self” had almost no friends. Aside from Luo Luo and Lin Xianing, she hadn’t received a single call or text in days. Who would be coming over now?

She opened the door to find a middle-aged woman. Without even glancing at Le Yiqiu, the woman strode into the apartment and surveyed the living room with a critical, disdainful eye.

Le Yiqiu quickly placed the face. It was Wu Yu, Lin Xianing’s mother. She had seen photos, but the living, breathing woman was far more intimidating.

“Auntie?” Le Yiqiu ventured.

Wu Yu spun around, her eyes narrowing. “Auntie?”

Right. She was married. “Mom… what brings you here?”

Wu Yu’s heels clicked sharply against the floor as she moved to the sofa. Her eyes landed on the suitcase. “Going somewhere?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

“Work.”

Le Yiqiu’s voice wavered slightly. This was her first time meeting “family,” and the pressure was palpable. Wu Yu had a gaze that felt like it could strip away layers of skin.

“Work?” Wu Yu let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “You? Since when do you have work?”

The mockery was thick. Is our relationship really this bad? Le Yiqiu thought. But it made sense. Any mother would be frustrated seeing her daughter married to someone who seemingly did nothing but hide at home all day.

Le Yiqiu realized her presence was a blemish on Lin Xianing’s reputation. Both online and in reality, she was the “weak link” people used to mock the Film Queen’s judgment.

The twenty-eight-year-old Le Yiqiu hadn’t cared, but the eighteen-year-old Le Yiqiu was a creature of action. She liked sports, games, and the heat of a crowd. If she became successful, the mockery would vanish.

She could accept being mediocre, but not in this way—not as a burden. Directing was her chosen path, and even if she didn’t remember why she’d stopped, she knew she wanted to see Lin Xianing through a lens. She wanted to capture every one of her wife’s radiant moments.

Interest was different from a goal; goals could be dry, but interest brought passion. And thinking of Lin Xianing made her heart flutter in a way that felt like destiny. She’s going to be so surprised when I show up on set, she thought with a secret smile.

*****

“Why are you so quiet?”

Wu Yu’s voice snapped her back to reality. Her distraction had only fueled the older woman’s annoyance.

“If you’d put in even half the effort you used to, Xianing wouldn’t be a laughingstock,” Wu Yu scolded. “But look at you—thick-skinned and indifferent. If you loved her, you wouldn’t have let her be ridiculed for all these years. Forget it, I’ve been saying this for years and you never listen.”

“I’m here to tell you: the Mid-Autumn family gathering is mandatory. Every time, she says she’s busy and neither of you shows up. This time, I don’t care what excuses you have. You both must be there.”

Mid-Autumn Festival was a month away. Her mother-in-law was clearly making sure there was no room for escape.

Le Yiqiu didn’t take the lecture to heart. If her own daughter had married a shut-in, she’d probably be even angrier.

“Mom, have you eaten? Let me take you to lunch.”

Wu Yu glanced at the clock. “At this hour?”

“Afternoon tea, then?” Le Yiqiu offered a bright, charming smile. “There’s a great café across the street.”

“I’ll just have water.”

Le Yiqiu froze. She hadn’t even offered the woman a glass of water. Negative points! Dammit! She’d been so nervous she’d forgotten the basics of hospitality. “I’ll get that for you right away.”

While pouring the water, she surreptitiously texted Lin Xianing.

Le Yiqiu: Your mom is here. She says we have to go home for the Mid-Autumn dinner. Did you know?

Lin Xianing must have been on a break; she replied instantly.

Lin Xianing: I know. What do you think?

[Le Yiqiu: If you decide to go, I’ll be your plus-one.]

[Lin Xianing: Tell her I’m filming and have no time. Tell her to talk to me directly.]

[Le Yiqiu replied foolishly: What about me?]

[Lin Xianing: …]

In her trailer, Lin Xianing looked at the screen, a small, involuntary smile tugging at her lips as she imagined Le Yiqiu’s dazed expression. Idiot.

Lin Xianing: Tell her that if I go, you go.

Le Yiqiu: Got it. I’ll let you know how it ends.

Le Yiqiu set the water on the coffee table. “Mom, here’s your water.”

Wu Yu drank half the glass in one go. She studied Le Yiqiu. This girl seemed… sharper today. More alert.

“So,” Wu Yu said. “What did you and your wife plot just now?”

Le Yiqiu’s heart skipped. Caught. She really was outmatched in the experience department. “She says she’s filming and might not have time.”

“And you?”

“If she goes, I go.”

A shadow of a smile finally touched Wu Yu’s face. “Your grandfather, uncles, and aunts will all be there. Don’t embarrass Xianing.”

She seemed certain they would attend. Le Yiqiu played along, realizing that when you don’t know the facts, it’s better to stay quiet and let the other person do the talking. Those detective novels she read as a kid were finally paying off.

After Wu Yu left, Le Yiqiu sent a summary to Lin Xianing but got no reply—she was likely back on set.

Lin Xianing had insisted that the fewer people who knew about the amnesia, the better. The Lin family dynamics were complex, and as a public figure, news of her “scumbag” wife losing her memory would only cause more unwanted gossip.

So, in front of her mother-in-law, Le Yiqiu had played the part of the dutiful—if slightly awkward—daughter-in-law perfectly.

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