My Queen, My Rules - 10

It's Me

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Ji Mingshu almost immediately spotted the problematic part in the screenshot. Assuming Cen Sen wouldn't have seen it so promptly, she frantically hit 'recall' on the image and the incriminating line "Learn from this," hoping to pretend the whole thing never happened.

But less than thirty seconds after she deleted it, messages started popping up on her screen.

Cen Sen: [What celestial fairy has descended to earth] 

Cen Sen: [The dress isn't haute couture, you are]

Cen Sen: [The way our Little Canary Baby showcases her beauty and spends money is truly mesmerizing]

Ji Mingshu: "…”

These string of effusive praise, completely stripped of its exclamation points, coming from Cen Sen's stark black profile avatar felt less like a compliment and more like a frigid, mocking mechanical copies. For a second, she couldn't tell if he was trying to show off his photographic memory or his ability to learn.

Cen Sen: [Did I learn it well?] 

Ji Mingshu: [...]

She got it. The Dog Man was showing off both. :)

The fact that he'd omitted the last line about "stealing her away" was clearly because he thought his mastery of the form was already impressive enough, and leaving it out left more room for imagination.

She put down her phone and gave the sales assistant a tight, mirthless smile. "Sorry, I've changed my mind about the tie clip."

Thanks to Cen Sen’s offense, the remaining three days of Couture Week were a glorious, unrepentant shopping spree. Ji Mingshu left a trail of swiped cards everywhere she went.

Designers, usually arrogant with celebrities, actively sought her out for photos, telling her how much they'd missed her. Executives carved time out of their impossibly busy schedules to have lunch and dinner with their distinguished guest from China. And as for the shows themselves, if an invitation wasn't for a front-row seat, it never even reached her hands.

Even Gu Kaiyang, long accustomed to the lady's luxurious lifestyle, couldn't help but get a little sour with envy: Waaah, money really CAN do anything! TVT

Gu Kaiyang arrived in Paris with her magazine's team. As the newly appointed deputy editor-in-chief, she had a million things to deal with and couldn't exactly ditch them. After Couture Week, the team had some additional shoots planned, requiring them to stay an extra day. The magazine's legendary stinginess was, as always, a constant—they'd feel like they'd lost a fortune if they didn't squeeze every last shot out of a trip to Paris.

Ji Mingshu originally planned to take Gu Kaiyang back with her on the private jet, a decadent end to a decadent trip. But Gu Kaiyang couldn’t get away, and with the jet due for maintenance anyway, she sent it off for servicing and decided to stay in Paris another day to fly back with her.

Despite flying back together, Gu Kaiyang was stuck in economy with her colleagues, furiously working the whole way, and therefore didn’t upgrade her seat.

As fate would have it, Ji Mingshu ran into Jiang Chun again in the first-class cabin.

Jiang Chun had lost weight since they'd last met. Her face, once softly rounded, now sharply pointed. She wore no makeup, just a simple grey T-shirt and jeans. The lack of cosmetics made her look tired, yes, but it also lent her a fragile, pitiable charm that was almost endearing.

Ji Mingshu slid her sunglasses down her nose for a better look and was genuinely surprised. She'd always known Jiang Chun had nice features, but this was the first time she'd seen her completely bare-faced. Well, well. Guess her parents didn't name her wrong. She really is quite the pure, pretty little thing.

Ji Mingshu had always had a soft spot for beautiful things. Her usual haughty indifference toward Jiang Chun momentarily softened, and she deigned to initiate a conversation. "You look like you're still nursing a broken heart, Miss Jiang."

Jiang Chun: "…"

Unlike their previous encounters, Jiang Chun didn't immediately bristle to full battle mode. She didn't snap at Ji Mingshu like she had in the hotel lobby. She just sat there, slumped in her seat, radiating a mysterious dejection that seemed to say: ‘Fine, I'm a discarded woman, humiliate me as you please.’

A flight attendant came by with drinks. Ji Mingshu nodded subtly toward Jiang Chun. "Could we get a meal for this young lady, please? And a Midsummer Breeze cocktail. Thank you."

Jiang Chun remained motionless in her seat.

The flight attendant glanced at her, then at Ji Mingshu, unsure how to respond.

Ji Mingshu offered a small smile. "We know each other. It's fine."

The flight attendant's heart did a little stutter-step.

God, she's beautiful. That smile alone could have redefined the very meaning of the phrases "pearly whites" and "stunning radiance."

After calmly walking away, the flight attendant immediately ducked into the galley to interrogate her colleagues: Was that woman in first class a celebrity? Why didn't she recognize her? Was she not famous? But how could someone that gorgeous not be famous?

Soon, the food and drink Ji Mingshu had ordered for Jiang Chun arrived. The flight attendant also presented Ji Mingshu with a small complimentary dessert, saying it was a new item for her to try.

Ji Mingshu politely took a bite.

Jiang Chun, however, remained despondent, showing no interest in the food.

Ji Mingshu didn't push it. She wasn't Jiang Chun's keeper, and she certainly wasn't going to beg her to eat.

Silence settled between them. Jiang Chun stared out the window, the very picture of melancholic suffering.

Ji Mingshu finished her dessert and flipped through a magazine. She'd already read all the fashion glossies on board. The only one left was Zero Degree, Gu Kaiyang's magazine, but that was a men's publication. She's not some virtuous wife who handled all her husband’s outfits, why would she bother?

She stifled a yawn, put on her eye mask, and settled in to sleep.

Outside the window, the sky was a brilliant blue, clouds spread out beneath them like giant clumps of cotton candy. The sunlight was thin and warm, catching the distant gold of the sun.

No longer hearing the sound of pages turning, Jiang Chun glanced out of the corner of her eye. Ji Mingshu was asleep, her eye mask on. Her gaze drifted to the tray of food and the drink beside her. She unconsciously licked her lips.

She hadn't eaten properly in three or four days. Out of sight, out of mind, she could manage. But with food right there, the aroma was intoxicating. Her misery receded, replaced by a single, primal urge.

Very, very quietly, she picked up the sandwich, then glanced at Ji Mingshu again.

Ji Mingshu wasn't moving, but her sleep was restless.

She was dreaming. In her dream, she was watching Jiang Chun catch Yan Yu cheating, but the roles were changed. It was her and Cen Sen.

In the dream, Cen Sen was even more scummy than Yan Yu. He grabbed her wrist and shoved her away, watching her fall to the ground without a second glance. A crowd of her plastic friends stood by, laughing at her. One of them sneered, telling her to just suck it up, to learn to serve his mistress tea with a smile, or else Cen Sen would throw her out on the street.

Ji Mingshu woke up furious.

She pulled off her eye mask, gulped down half a glass of water, and tried to calm down, repeating to herself it was just a dream. But she still couldn’t stop cursing that Dog Man, Cen Sen for not letting her be at peace even in her dreams.

She put down her glass and turned her head absently, only to catch Jiang Chun secretly nibbling her sandwich.

Perhaps starved silly, Jiang Chun had taken an enormous bite. Before she could swallow, Ji Mingshu's sudden movement startled her. The bite lodged in her throat, and she clutched her chest, coughing violently.

Ji Mingshu just watched as Jiang Chun coughed until she was red in the face, fumbling for a napkin, washing it down with a gulp of her cocktail. Then, suddenly, Ji Mingshu burst out laughing.

Jiang Chun, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristled. "What are you laughing at? So what if I'm eating? Cough! Cough, cough, cough!!!"

For some reason, Ji Mingshu's mood lifted. She propped her chin on her hand and looked at Jiang Chun. "You're kind of cute, do you know that?”

"…"

Jiang Chun stared at her like she'd grown a second head.

Ji Mingshu racked her brains for an analogy. "Like… a penguin that’s never left the Antarctic, suddenly finds out she's not cold anymore and can live in a subtropics… but still clumsy and clueless about it?"

Did such a penguin exist?

Jiang Chun was stunned for a second, then finally caught on. "Are you calling me rustic?"

"No. Rustic-Cute."

Jiang Chun: "…"

Gee, thanks for the compliment.

She rolled her eyes, sat up straight, and decided, with sudden resolve, that she was going to eat this food and enjoy it. 

The flight from Paris to Beijing was eleven hours long. Bored out of her mind, Ji Mingshu occasionally poked fun at Jiang Chun for entertainment.

At first, Jiang Chun was determined to ignore her. But the constructed wall of sorrow she'd built had long since crumbled. Seeing Ji Mingshu watching a variety show she also followed, she found herself unconsciously responding to Ji Mingshu's chatter. 

"I think Pei Xiyan is pretty handsome," Ji Mingshu said.

"I think so too," Jiang Chun agreed, unable to help herself. "Handsome and with personality. He’ll be amazing when he grows up.”

“High EQ too.”

Jiang Chun nodded vigorously. "Right, right, right! I even went back and watched that show he did with his mom when he was a kid. I'm not a huge fan of her, but he was so cute! All cool and aloof."

"I know, right?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing at Beijing International Airport in approximately fifteen minutes. The local time is 6:35 PM, and the ground temperature is 36 degrees Celsius..."

By the time they were getting ready to land, all traces of the defeated, heartbroken woman who'd boarded the plane were gone. Jiang Chun was glowing, her eyes practically hearts. She even insisted Ji Mingshu not fast-forward through any part. Her baby's god-tier visuals deserved to be savored frame by painstaking frame.

Speechless, Ji Mingshu simply tossed the tablet into Jiang Chun’s lap.

Her own luggage had been shipped back to China a day earlier. All she had with her was a small carry-on.

Getting off the plane, she'd planned to meet up with Gu Kaiyang, but an emergency had cropped up at the magazine, and she had to rush back for a meeting. So Ji Mingshu ended up walking out with Jiang Chun, magnanimously giving her a crash course of the duty-free shops as they strolled along.

Jiang Chun had no idea there were so many nuances to shopping. At first, she walked beside Ji Mingshu, listening as they went. Somewhere along the way, she'd seamlessly transitioned into Ji Mingshu's personal baggage handler. She'd found a cart, loaded both their suitcases onto it, and was now pushing it along with cheerful enthusiasm.

As they neared the exit, the airport crowd thickened.

Ji Mingshu was in the middle of explaining why a certain handbag was a classic when her voice suddenly faltered. Her pace slowed.

The ditzy sweetheart Jiang Chun asked, “What’s wrong?”

Ji Mingshu pressed a hand to her stomach, her brow furrowed.

"Stomach ache?" Jiang Chun looked around and pointed. "There's a bathroom over there."

Sweat beaded on Ji Mingshu's forehead as she speed-walked toward the restroom. Her heels were punishingly high, and the hurried steps left the backs of her feet feeling raw and numb.

The moment she stepped inside, her vision darkened.

Jiang Chun, who'd followed her in, let out a small gasp. "Why are there so many people?!"

There were at least seven or eight women in line. And, of all the bathrooms in the airport, this one had to be the smallest, only four stalls, one of which was accessible stall.

After two agonizing minutes, the line hadn't moved an inch.

Jiang Chun was about to suggest finding another one, but seeing Ji Mingshu’s desperate, I-can’t-hold-it expression, her gaze flicked around, and a terrible idea was born.

"Why not use that one?" she whispered, pointing at the men's room. "It's empty."

Ji Mingshu's expression clearly said, Have you lost your mind?

But Jiang Chun was earnest. She darted in to scout it out. "Really, no one's in there. I'll stand guard."

Ji Mingshu thought her own brain must have short-circuited, because a tiny, traitorous part of her was actually considering it.

Another sharp cramp twisted her insides, and the appeal of the idea grew exponentially.

Finally, she couldn't hold out anymore. She pulled her sunglasses back on with trembling hands and hissed at Jiang Chun, "Keep watch. WeChat me.”

Jiang Chun nodded solemnly, as if she'd just been entrusted with a vital state secret.

---

Three minutes later, Ji Mingshu finally realized what a stupid thing she’d done.

Jiang Chun: [Don't come out now. A guy just walked in.] 

Five minutes later.

Jiang Chun: [Oh no. A whole tour group just showed up. Just wait it out. Whatever you do, don't make a sound.] 

Ji Mingshu: [...]

I really must've been possessed to listen to you.

No sooner had Jiang Chun's warning arrived than a crowd of men flooded in. The awkward symphony of a busy urinal echoed around her. Then, a man stopped right outside her stall and pounded on the door. "Hey buddy, constipated? Been in there so long, you fall into the shit pit?”

Ji Mingshu's face burned, the flush creeping from her ears down her neck.

The stall was cramped, narrow, and reeked. She closed her eyes, wondering what she'd done in a past life to deserve this wretched plight, trapped in a men's room, too mortified to make a sound.

Her mind was blank. She had no idea what to do to escape this suffocatingly awkward situation.

To make matters worse, after five minutes, her legs had gone completely numb, and her phone had chosen that exact moment to die. Which meant she'd lost contact with her lookout outside.

The last message from her lookout had been: [Maybe just make a run for it? No one knows you anyway.]

Ridiculous!

She, Ji Mingshu, had lived gloriously for over twenty years! She could go without food, but never without dignity!

 

She'd rather be fumigated to death in this toilet than risk running out while people were still outside and get labeled ‘that pretty girl who’s enough of a pervert to use the men’s room’!

And so, she stubbornly stayed crouched there. Time crawled by. Ji Mingshu lost count of how many knocks she’d silently ignored. The lower half of her body had long since lost all sensation.

After what felt like an eternity, the restroom suddenly fell silent.

Ji Mingshu’s little heart revived from death, thinking the coast was finally clear. 

But the second she tried to stand up, a new knock sounded on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

How despairing :) 

She slumped back down, wrapped her arms around her knees, and buried her face in them. Not making a sound.

"Ji Mingshu." The voice came from just outside the door, calm and unmistakable. "Open up. It's me."

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