The Film Queen’s Live-In Son-in-Law is the King of the Women's Kingdom (GL) - Chapter 1

It’s over. She’s gone mad—completely mad.

Flames. A sea of fire raged, devouring everything in sight.

Shen Ji lounged with one leg casually draped over the other, rocking lazily as though this inferno had nothing to do with her. The person in her arms had long since stopped breathing.

She didn’t care that the fire was about to swallow her too. Even if she did, it was useless. After all, the poisoned wine in the nuptial cup hadn’t killed her instantly, but it had destroyed her bloodline and drained her of all power.

The king’s bedchamber was an inferno, yet outside, there was still no stir. Shen Ji didn’t waste the effort calling for help. If anyone intended to save her, they would have come already. And besides, she couldn’t even make a sound anymore.

Her enemies hadn’t meant to leave her any chance of survival. Afraid the poison might not finish her, they’d set the palace ablaze as well.

On her twenty-third birthday, on the very night she should have been at the peak of her life—her wedding night—the only person ruthless enough to do this could only be her mother. Shen Ji could think of no one else.

It was just a pity about the one in her arms. Her fingertips brushed the red bridal veil but didn’t lift it. Instead, she murmured under her breath, “Whose pawn are you? That person must truly hate me to even use you.”

The flames licked higher, consuming her inch by inch. The pain forced her to remain conscious until the very end. For twenty-three years, Shen Ji had never envied anyone, but in that final moment, she suddenly envied her late queen—at least she had died quickly, without suffering.

Her last thought was a bitter one: what an ugly way to die.

******

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, wake up!”

Through a haze, she felt someone shaking her violently. Shen Ji pried open her heavy eyelids and slapped away the hand disturbing her dreams.

“Ugh…” She turned over, exhausted to the bone. She only wanted to sleep a little longer. Perhaps today’s morning court could be postponed.

With a loud thud, her body hit the floor. Dazed, she blinked awake, not yet able to make sense of her surroundings. Someone hurriedly helped her up, exclaiming, “Oh my god, Your Majesty! You’ve really got nerves of steel, being able to sleep so soundly on this crappy sofa.”

“What… what?” Shen Ji frowned. She wanted to rub her sore backside but restrained herself in front of the stranger.

It was only then she realized how strange everything looked. The furnishings, the air, the atmosphere—utterly foreign. And the person before her? A stranger clad in bizarre clothes, their hair dyed in clashing neon colors, sticking up like a rainbow hedgehog.

Shen Ji shook off the hand holding her and said coldly, “Insolent.”

“???”

“Who are you? How dare you intrude into my bedchamber?”

“???”

The rainbow hedgehog stared at her like she’d lost her mind. She reached out to press Shen Ji’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

Smack. Shen Ji slapped her hand away, bristling with fury. “Without my permission, you are not to touch me. Do it again, and I’ll have you flogged twenty times.”

The hedgehog bristled in turn, her hair seeming to explode further. She spat off to the side. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you drink yourself stupid? What’s with the whole act?”

She grew angrier by the second, kicking an empty soda can across the floor.

“With acting skills like that, with a face and body like yours, you’d be a superstar by now instead of living like this!”

As she ranted, Shen Ji’s head throbbed sharply. Fragments of unfamiliar memories flashed before her eyes—vivid, scandalous images of another life. She realized she had inherited someone else’s past: memories of another “Shen Ji” living in this world, of countless flirtations with beautiful women.

The rainbow hedgehog was her closest friend, Wang Xiaobao, who dreamed day and night of becoming a modern-day Wei Xiaobao.

Her own name in this world was Shen Dabao. Her mother had given her the deliberately “cheap” name when she was born—people said children with humble names were easier to raise. Her mother had raised her alone, stubborn and proud after the wealthy Shen family rejected their marriage.

Life had been hard, but the two of them had been happy enough—until her mother was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer when Shen Ji was sixteen. Fearing for her daughter’s future, she had contacted Shen Ji’s father and sent her back to the Shen family. That was when “Dabao” was renamed Shen Ji.

But her father had long since remarried and had two more children. Shen Ji’s presence was awkward at best. At eighteen, she chose to move out. Aside from tuition, she refused to take another cent from her father, working part-time to cover her living expenses.

She had one goal: earn enough money to pay back every penny her father had spent on her.

Fresh out of university, she had relied on her striking looks to become a small internet celebrity. Her following was modest but growing—exactly 34,821 fans. She checked the number every day.

Still, even as the eldest daughter of the Shen family in Hucheng, she was broke enough to struggle with rent.

“Don’t just sit there zoning out. Get up, wash your face, change clothes. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late,” Wang Xiaobao urged, dragging her thoughts back.

Shen Ji pressed her temples, trying to sort through the jumble of memories. Incomplete as they were, they were enough to deal with the situation. Tonight, Wang Xiaobao was taking her to a high-society banquet in Hucheng.

She could enter easily enough under the Shen family name, but Shen Ji wanted nothing to do with them. This invitation, in fact, came courtesy of one of her ex-girlfriends.

Wang Xiaobao’s circumstances were better than Shen Ji’s. Though her father preferred sons, he hadn’t neglected her entirely. As the Wang family’s daughter, she too had access to such events.

Shen Ji stood in the bathroom washing her face, still disoriented by the modern world. Her thoughts were a mess, so she shoved them aside for now.

From outside, Wang Xiaobao called, “Hey, Your Majesty, is your old man really that stingy? He doesn’t give you a single dime?”

She used to call Shen Ji “Dabao,” but after Shen Ji’s mother died, she couldn’t stand the name anymore. She’d made her friends call her “Your Majesty” instead.

On the coffee table, Shen Ji’s phone lit up with a new message. It was her landlord reminding her to pay the rent. Wang Xiaobao sighed quietly. Her friend was really too stubborn. The Shen family’s wealth was vast—even a crumb from their table would let her live comfortably.

“Mm.” Shen Ji didn’t know how to respond. A short hum slipped from her nose. She wiped the water from her face and muttered, “I… need to change.”

Turning away, she headed into the bedroom to find something suitable to wear to the banquet.

Here’s the next part translated in the same natural, flowing style as before:

******

Twenty-three years of habit don’t change overnight. Even with fragments of another life’s memories trickling in, Shen Ji still remembered clearly—she had been the King of Changyuan, who perished on her twenty-third birthday, on the very night of her wedding.

Wang Xiaobao pulled up in a car just as flashy as her hairstyle. The car itself wasn’t expensive—just a beat-up BMW—but it had been painted a garish fluorescent green that screamed for attention. Shen Ji hesitated for a good three minutes before finally giving in to Wang Xiaobao’s threatening look that said “Get in, or you’re walking.”

The banquet hall on the thirty-third floor of the Lannord Hotel was usually reserved for those who ranked among Hucheng’s upper crust.

That night, the city’s wealthiest family, the Yus, had booked out the entire floor. Word was, it was to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of their youngest daughter, Yu Keke.

Wang Xiaobao was going for the sake of admiring pretty women. Shen Ji, on the other hand, was going in search of opportunity.

For an ordinary person, livestreaming brought in plenty of income. But to become one of the platform’s top streamers? That required backing. Serious backing.

And the Yu family, sitting at the top of Hucheng’s wealth pyramid, carried just that kind of weight. Rumor had it that Yu Keke was planning to step into the entertainment industry. If that was true, plenty of industry figures would be at this banquet.

Shen Ji thought to herself: I may not be professionally trained, but with this face, landing a minor role shouldn’t be difficult. A streamer with thirty-four thousand fans crossing over into entertainment—yes, it’s possible to make a living off this world.

“Hey, Da Wang, I’m telling you,” Wang Xiaobao said, one hand on the wheel, the other fluffing her spiky rainbow hair, “people from Feifan Media and Xingxia International will be here tonight. Keep sharp. If you can wedge your way into either of those two, you’ll be set.”

Shen Ji sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, stiff as a board. She still wasn’t used to this thing they called an automobile.

Her nerves betrayed her. She gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, then added, “Got it.”

But Wang Xiaobao picked up on her oddness right away. “What’s with you today? Why are you so quiet?”

The car swerved sharply around a bend, and Shen Ji clutched the seatbelt with both hands. Startled, her words slipped again.

“Gu… still hungover.”

“…” Wang Xiaobao was beginning to grow used to her friend’s occasional eccentricities.

It wasn’t that Shen Ji lacked courage. She’d stared down assassins and poisoners before. But faced with an unfamiliar world filled with strange contraptions and customs, even a king couldn’t help but falter.

Her excuse sounded reasonable enough. Wang Xiaobao nodded, buying it, and added, “Want me to get you some hangover medicine?”

“No need.”

Shen Ji rejected it immediately. Poison still lingered in her memory; the word “medicine” alone was enough to make her frown.

By the time the car finally rolled to a stop, her face had gone a shade pale. Wang Xiaobao only then realized her friend hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup. Typical. Such an unreasonable woman, weaponizing her beauty.

“Just because you’re gorgeous doesn’t mean you can abuse it like this,” she muttered, sighing as she rummaged through her bag for makeup. She leaned forward to apply it, only for Shen Ji to dodge, glaring at her with wary eyes.

“Don’t move!” Wang Xiaobao groaned. “I must have owed you in a past life, putting up with you like this.”

At the mention of “past life,” Shen Ji instinctively asked, “So… it was you who killed Gu?”

“…” Great. She’s lost it. Completely lost it.

Wang Xiaobao gave her the kind of look reserved for lunatics, then shoved a jar of tone-up cream and lipstick into her hands.

“Fine, do it yourself. Showing up bare-faced to an event like this isn’t innocent—it’s rude.”

Shen Ji didn’t own any high-end clothes. The black strapless gown she wore had been a birthday gift from Wang Xiaobao, and it was the only thing in her closet worth presenting. The dress was simple, embellished with a scattering of tiny rhinestones.

With skin pale as porcelain, she applied the cream lightly across her cheeks, then twisted open the lipstick, brushed it on, and pressed her lips together. Her sleek, straight hair flowed obediently down her back, grazing her waist.

Wang Xiaobao stared, slack-jawed, before deciding something was still missing. She dug into the glove compartment and pulled out a small jewelry box, handing it over.

“Here. Wear this.”

Inside lay a slender platinum chain, adorned with a four-leaf-clover pendant set with tiny diamonds. Elegant yet understated, it matched her dress perfectly.

“Thank you,” Shen Ji said simply, fastening it around her neck.

The King of Changyuan, now thrust into this bewildering modern world, had only one thought: whatever mysteries there were, survival came first.

As the two stepped into the VIP elevator that would take them to the thirty-third floor, a black luxury van glided into the hotel’s reserved parking area. The place was nearly deserted, lending an eerie stillness.

The hotel manager hurried forward, bowing slightly. “Miss Yu, welcome to the Lannord Hotel.”

The woman who stepped out wore a blazing red evening gown. Red was an unforgiving color—on the wrong person, it screamed gaudy. But on her, it radiated sophistication. Crimson lipstick, simple sapphire-drop earrings, no excessive embellishment—nothing to steal attention, only enough to sharpen her radiance.

Seven-centimeter gold heels clicked against the pavement. Standing at around 172 centimeters even without them, she cut a striking figure. From the passenger seat, a broad-shouldered man in a black suit—clearly her bodyguard—followed close behind.

The hotel manager swallowed his nerves, plastering on a smile.

“This way, Miss Yu.”

“Mm,” she answered coolly, chin tilted ever so slightly, signaling for him to lead the way. Her aura alone outshone the towering bodyguard beside her.