My Queen, My Rules - 14

News

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The night was still, moonlight spilling across the lake surface, casting a gentle, hazy glow.

Mingshui Manor stood at the lake’s center, surrounded by lush greenery that rustled softly whenever the wind stirred through the leaves.

Ji Mingshu had a terrible dream.

It clung to her, relentless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free. She was aware she was dreaming, yet her eyelids felt sewn shut, stubbornly refusing to open.

By six in the morning, the first light of dawn began to seep through.

Ji Mingshu finally jolted awake.

Her silk nightgown was damp with cold sweat, the dusty pink fabric at her back now a shade darker from moisture. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened along her neck and jawline.

She lay there, eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. A few seconds later, she twitched her fingers, reaching up to touch her own heart.

Thump, thump.

It was beating fiercely.

Still there, still there. Thank goodness.

As her consciousness fully returned, Ji Mingshu grabbed half her pillow, flipped it over, and pressed it against her face.

She never should have read that kidney-and-heart-stealing novel last night. In her sleep, her brain had concocted this bizarre plot where Cen Sen dug out her heart and kidneys to cure his ex-girlfriend.

Thinking back on it now, dreams truly had no logic. If he dug out her heart first, wouldn't she be dead? How could she still be alive for the kidney extraction? And if Cen Sen dared dig out her organs to treat that little green tea bitch, she’d dig up the entire Cen family grave first and toss them all in.

Then again, the Cen Sen in her dream was terrifying. He’d even worn a white lab coat and gold-rimmed glasses to perform the surgery himself. What a psycho.

Ji Mingshu glanced at Cen Sen lying beside her and instinctively shrank away.

But seeing him breathing evenly, deep in sleep, something sparked in her. Her courage returned, and she quietly edged closer, extended a hand, and abruptly gave him a slap.

Smack! 

It was a feather-light tap, incomparable to the full-force slap she’d delivered at the birthday party last night.

After delivering her strike, Ji Mingshu prepared to retreat.

But Cen Sen, eyes still closed, accurately caught her by the wrist.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, raspy with sleep.

“You, you’re awake? There was… a bug.”

Ji Mingshu froze, completely baffled as to how this dog man had woken up so suddenly. Her heart raced with fright, tripping over her words.

Cen Sen slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her. “What bug?” His gaze was calm, knowing.

“…”

Ji Mingshu strained, trying to pull her hand back, but couldn’t break free.

So she decided to brazen it out with the truth. “I dreamed you dug out my kidney. I barely slept all night. What’s wrong with hitting you once?”

Cen Sen: “…”

His grip loosened slightly. Ji Mingshu seized the chance to pull her hand back, then dramatically clutched her side, as if to prove she wasn’t lying.

Cen Sen glanced at her hand. “That’s your stomach.”

Ji Mingshu paused, quickly switching sides. But then it hit her, didn’t people have two kidneys? What did it matter which side?

Now she was confused. She patted her left side, then her right, forgetting where the kidneys were actually located.

In the end, she simply covered her heart and declared righteously, “You didn’t just dig out my kidney, you took my heart too! Why were you such a psycho in my dream!”

“Didn’t take your corneas?”

Cen Sen’s tone was lightly mocking.

…?

Ji Mingshu’s mind exploded. She immediately sat up, groping for her phone.

Not on the nightstand. Not under her pillow. Then she looked up and saw it on Cen Sen’s side.

“You psycho! You went through my phone? That’s a violation of privacy, you know that?!” Ji Mingshu was livid, snatching up her pillow to hit him.

“Then I’ve violated quite a lot.”

Cen Sen shifted slightly, his gaze lingering on her chest for a moment.

Ji Mingshu saw black.

If not for the crystal-clear prenuptial asset division agreement, she’d gladly smother Cen Sen with this pillow right now and inherit his massive fortune :)

After such a quarrel first thing in the morning, Ji Mingshu had no mood to go back to sleep. She got up, washed, and dressed, deliberately making as much noise as possible to ensure Cen Sen couldn’t sleep peacefully either.

Once Cen Sen, thoroughly disturbed, also got out of bed, she flicked her hair and swept out the door with a flourish.

This petty victory had initially lifted her spirits. But when she opened WeChat to find someone to hang out with, she remembered she hadn’t used the blackmail she had on Cen Sen, her anger flared anew.

Unwilling to let it go, she did a quick online search, then sent Cen Sen a screenshot.

By then, Cen Sen was already in the back seat of his car.

The screenshot showed an online explanation: “Yam. When used as an interjection, it replaces ‘ya’ to express a playful, cute tone… conveying a mood similar to acting sweet or childish, hoping to leave an impression of being adorable and youthful…”

Ji Mingshu: [President Cen, you should spend more time online. If you keep isolating yourself like this, I feel Junyi is heading for bankruptcy under your leadership :)]

Cen Sen scrolled up through their chat history, letting out a soft scoff.

Both the driver and Zhou Jiaheng instinctively glanced in the rearview mirror at the sound, but looked away just as quickly, not daring to ask.

Working for a man of few words like Cen Sen for so long had eroded everyone’s desire for chatter and curiosity. Not long ago, a bodyguard from the following car had quit. Not because of the pay or workloads, the young guy just couldn’t stand a car full of people with perfectly functional mouths who wouldn’t utter a word all day.

Soon, Ji Mingshu received a reply from Cen Sen.

The first two messages were his typical, nitpicking responses to her screenshot.

Cen Sen: [So you were trying to act cute and youthful. I’ll make a note to play along next time.]

Cen Sen: [Though you’re twenty-five now. No need to impress me as ‘youthful’, I have no interest in molesting children.]

The third message was a link to a celebratory announcement from the Junyi Group official account.

The article boasted about the group’s glorious achievements in the hotel industry, ending with some motivational words for employees and a bit of flattery for the leadership.

To Ji Mingshu, of course, it translated to: “Don't worry, Junyi won’t go bankrupt even by the time your grandson gets married.”

Ji Mingshu sent back a ‘smiling’ emoji, located Cen Sen’s WeChat avatar, then in one smooth motion, blocked and deleted him.

After the block, Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen didn’t see each other for a week.

Cen Sen had a two-week hotel inspection tour, flying all over the country and abroad, with at least three meetings a day to ensure close follow-up on the projects he was spearheading.

Ji Mingshu, meanwhile, had succumbed to Jiang Chun’s relentless pleading and agreed to supervise the little earth goose's dramatic transformation.

Ji Mingshu wasn’t entirely sure why she’d taken on a role usually reserved for male leads in novels, but since she had, she was determined to be strict and thorough, leaving no trace of tackiness alive.

“Why is it still fifty-eight kilograms?” The strict Teacher Ji stared at the scale, demanding an answer.

Jiang Chun looked innocent. “I don’t know. I haven’t had any milk tea or barbecue.”

Ji Mingshu circled the still-unrenovated ugly apartment and accurately fished out three packs of instant noodles from a corner. “Then what are these? Free gifts with fruit?”

Jiang Chun, completely unfazed, took the noodles from her and stepped back onto the scale.

“See? My weight hasn’t changed. These don’t make you fat.”

Ji Mingshu looked at the unwavering “58” on the scale, choked for three seconds, and for a fleeting moment actually thought she had a point.

Fortunately, the quick-witted Teacher Ji soon found the flaw. “Do you eat the noodles dry? Do they just pass right through you without digesting?”

Jiang Chun: “…”

So she hadn’t dodged that one.

Teacher Ji continued her lecture. “And you still have the nerve to post on WeChat and Weibo every day about taking your weight loss seriously? With that kind of attitude, why bother? Why not save energy, go back to Shenzhen, sell fish, and scroll through your feed updates watching Yan and his little green-tea bitch live happily ever after?”

“I am taking it seriously! I say so every day!” Jiang Chun couldn’t help muttering under her breath.

But seeing Ji Mingshu’s ‘Say one more word and you won’t live to see tomorrow’, she immediately backtracked. “Okay, fine, I was wrong. I won’t eat instant noodles anymore.”

“Elliptical machine. Thirty minutes. Incline eight. Don’t even think about slacking.” Teacher Ji issued the cold command.

After doing the elliptical daily, Jiang Chun felt her thighs and calves ache at the mere mention of it.

But Ji Mingshu was already standing by the machine, her death glare locked precisely on target.

Jiang Chun took a deep breath and marched over as if heading to her execution.

Truthfully, Jiang Chun’s iron determination to transform this time was fueled by a burning desire for vindication.

The incident of Ji Mingshu slapping the little white lotus that night had been recorded and photographed by many present. Although Zhang Lin had checked everyone’s devices upon exit and deleted all footage as per protocol, some had slipped through the net.

Within a couple of days, the story of that little white lotus getting slapped for being a mistress had been leaked online.

Now that she was a minor celebrity with some name recognition, naturally, there was some discussion.

Somehow, the little white lotus had managed to present herself as the victim to Yan, who seemed to have been thoroughly bewitched. In a fit of rage for his beauty, he issued a statement claiming they were in a legitimate relationship and even went to the Jiang family to warn Jiang Chun against any more ‘underhanded tricks’.

Jiang Chun nearly fainted from rage, wanting nothing more than to hire water armies, buy trending topics, and drag them both through the mud, sending them off to eat shit together!

But her father, ever diplomatic and patient, amiably called off the engagement and stopped Jiang Chun from stirring up more trouble, saying there would be plenty of ways to make Yan regret this deeply in the future.

Jiang Chun, unlike her father, was impulsive. She wanted Yan to join the ‘Scumbags Go Die’ club right this instant.

So she’d clung to Ji Mingshu, begging her to supervise, holding her breath as she aimed for a stunning transformation that would crush that little green-tea bitch in every way. Then she’d find a tall, rich, handsome guy like Cen Sen and make Yan regret it so hard his intestines turned from red to green to white with remorse, kneeling down and calling her daddy!

Her father was fully on board with her finding a wealthy, handsome man to overshadow Yan.

Jiang Chun was three months younger than Ji Mingshu. Her family had struck it rich in recent years, money was the last thing they lacked. Naturally, no one expected her to find a proper job to support herself.

Her father’s only wish for her was to marry into a prestigious family with fanfare. He’d been less than thrilled when she’d stubbornly fallen for Yan. Now that she’d seen the light, he was overjoyed and promptly arranged a gathering, essentially a blind date, for the following Friday.

Ji Mingshu knew a bit about the guy Mr. Jiang had picked for Jiang Chun. She’d already gotten a photo for Jiang Chun to see. He was quite handsome—refined, good-looking, clearly well-educated.

After a week of hellish training, Jiang Chun could almost pass for an heiress when she didn't talk.

As Ji Mingshu picked out clothes for her to wear to the gathering, she instructed, “The Tang family are all highly educated. Don’t say anything stupid when you meet them. If you don’t know what to say, just shut up.”

Jiang Chun nodded like a little goose pecking at rice.

Come Friday, Jiang Chun donned the battle attire selected by Ji Mingshu and went forth to meet her tall, rich, and handsome prospect.

Ji Mingshu went to bed early that night and forgot to ask how the date went. Early Saturday morning, she was bombarded with frantic calls from Gu Kaiyang, who needed to borrow a dress.

Gu Kaiyang’s magazine had invited a popular on-screen couple for a cover shoot, but the dress prepared for the actress had suddenly run into issues. They urgently needed an identical dress to complete the shoot.

It was this year’s autumn/winter latest release. Ji Mingshu happened to have it, she’d worn it once, didn’t like it much, and had banished it to the closet to gather dust. Hearing Gu Kaiyang’s plea, she agreed without hesitation. 

Gu Kaiyang planned to send an assistant to pick it up, but since Ji Mingshu had nothing else to do, she offered to deliver it herself.

On the way to the magazine office, Ji Mingshu finally remembered Jiang Chun’s date and called to ask how it went.

Jiang Chun answered quickly, but her voice was listless, the dejection practically crawling through the signal to Ji Mingshu’s end.

Ji Mingshu: “What, didn't go well?”

“Probably not. I don’t know what I did wrong, but the way he looked at me… he always had this sort of… smirk. It made my skin crawl a bit.”

Jiang Chun, still in bed, recounted the whole date process to Ji Mingshu.

She went into excruciating detail, down to what lipstick she’d worn that morning, what they’d eaten for lunch, and how many bowls of rice she’d had.

Ji Mingshu impatiently cut her off, telling her to get to the point.

Jiang Chun paused, then jumped to the crucial part when they were alone.

“He asked me which painters I liked. How would I know any painters? I only remembered you saying your husband had bought a few paintings by the Eight Great Masters, so I said I quite liked the Eight Great Masters, their work was very unique. I didn’t dare say more than that.”

“Wait,” Ji Mingshu thought she’d misheard. “You think that was ‘not much’?”

“I only said one sentence, how is that too much? Aren’t they unique? I was being vague on purpose, was that wrong?”

“No, you, did you think the ‘Eight Great Masters’ were like the ‘Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove’ or the ‘Eight Eccentrics of Yangzhou’? It’s one person, not eight! I told you, if you don’t know, just shut up!”

Ji Mingshu was practically laughing in exasperation.

Jiang Chun was stunned. “Then why didn’t he correct me? He even went grocery shopping with me afterward. Maybe he doesn’t know either?”

“Don’t project your ignorance onto others!”

When Ji Mingshu got fierce, Jiang Chun cowered.

After meekly admitting her mistake, she recalled what happened at the supermarket.

“When we got to the fruit section, he mentioned a few fruits I’d never heard of and said he liked them. Then he asked me what my favorite fruit was. I thought I couldn’t lose face, so I said I liked pears, especially that really popular one now, shi duo pi li. But we looked all over and couldn’t find that pear…”

…?

Jiang Chun kept rambling.

Ji Mingshu’s face was blank. She interrupted with precise English pronunciation: “Straw-ber-ry. Listen carefully, strawberry. You went to elementary school, right? Strawberry. Shi duo pi li is strawberry. Not a pear.”

Jiang Chun: “…”

Ji Mingshu: “Please, for my sake, never tell anyone we’re friends. Thanks.”

My mistake then.

Jiang Chun silently hung up.

By the time Ji Mingshu reached the magazine office, she was still caught in a mix of fury and amusement.

 

Because of her friendship with Gu Kaiyang, almost everyone at the magazine knew her. Seeing her arrive, they stood up to greet her.

Ji Mingshu’s mind was still full of Jiang Chun’s goose-brained nonsense. She responded absently and didn’t notice the slightly odd expressions on their faces.

When she arrived at the deputy editor’s office, she found Gu Kaiyang less busy than expected. In fact, the moment Ji Mingshu entered, Gu Kaiyang shot up from her chair, offering her tea with an excessively cautious demeanor.

Ji Mingshu took off her sunglasses, puzzled. “Aren’t you rushing for the shoot?”

Gu Kaiyang: “Headquarters issued an emergency notice. We’re canceling the shoot.”

“Why?”

“Well, the actress… something happened. The news just broke…”

Gu Kaiyang’s voice was soft and muffled, dripping with guilt.

Ji Mingshu felt weirdly unsettled. “What’s with you? You’re acting strange.”

Seeing that Ji Mingshu was completely in the dark, Gu Kaiyang wrestled with herself, tormented.

But thinking that sooner or later it would come out, she steeled herself, closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and blurted it all out—

“Fine, I’ll tell you! That shameless woman Zhang Baoshu and your Cen Sen are in the news! It broke just twenty minutes ago!”

“It hasn’t blown up publicly yet, we received an internal heads-up. I think you should contact your husband first, maybe there’s some misunderstanding! Don’t do anything rash!”

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