My Queen, My Rules - 17

Gathering

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It was almost mealtime. Cen Sen had Zhou Jiaheng book a restaurant nearby.

Ji Mingshu wasn't particularly keen on going. Her appetite always suffered when she ate out with Cen Sen.

Cen Sen didn't like talking while eating, and though he appeared unhurried, he actually finished his meals very quickly.

Once finished, he would just sit there across from you, watching, glancing at his watch from time to time. It was exactly like during exams when the proctor would stand over your shoulder saying, "Just write anything, hurry up and hand it in, five minutes left, three minutes left, one final minute!" Who could endure that?

But she had just caused that awkward scene and accepted the bribe of a bracelet. She couldn't very well refuse her nominal husband's offer. So, she pretended to happily agree.

Cen Sen still had work left to do. Ji Mingshu, in a rare show of generosity, expressed understanding. "Go ahead, it's fine. I can look around this floor by myself."

Cen Sen: "Then have Zhou Jiaheng show you around. If you need anything, just ask him.”

Ji Mingshu gave an ‘ok’ sign, then glanced past him at the desk.

The divorce papers that had bounced off his head were lying quietly on the desktop.

She sidled over to the desk first, casually pulled it out from under whatever was on top, and hid it behind her back before skipping lightly out of the office.

Thank goodness Cen Sen hadn’t glanced at the paper when she threw it. Even without a law degree, she could tell how informal and pathetic this downloaded divorce agreement was. If Cen Sen saw it, who knew how he’d seize on it to mock her.

Opposite Cen Sen’s office was the Chief Assistant's Office. Two of its walls were solid, the other two enclosed by a circular clear glass. Every workstation inside faced the President’s office.

The moment Ji Mingshu emerged, several assistants in the Chief Assistant's Office noticed her. With perfect synchrony, they stood up and nodded in her direction.

Ji Mingshu paused slightly, turning to Zhou Jiaheng. “These are all President Cen’s assistants?”

She counted silently. Nine. Plus Zhou Jiaheng made ten. Did one man really need that many assistants? Was he incapable of taking care of himself?

"Yes," Zhou Jiaheng nodded.

He led Ji Mingshu inside, introducing them one by one. “These two are President Cen’s translation assistants; Assistant Luo is fluent in four languages, Assistant Wang graduated from the Graduate Institute of Interpretation and Translation. Assistant Li mainly liaises between President Cen and the group’s overseas departments. Assistant Huang currently handles liaison between President Cen, the group’s internal departments, and Jingjian…”

"…"

"The division of labor is… meticulous."

Ji Mingshu had no work experience and didn’t fully grasp the specific functions he described. She was nearly dizzy listening to him. After he finished, she feigned comprehension and commented, "Meticulous." Then added, "Please, carry on with your work. Don't mind me. You've all… worked hard."

The assistants bowed in unison again. 

Ji Mingshu almost thought they were going to chant “We serve the President!” and instinctively took half a step back.

Truth be told, as the CEO's wife, she had frequented their hotels countless times, but this was her first visit to the group headquarters.

She wandered around until mealtime. Then, arm-in-arm with Cen Sen, projecting an image of a loving couple, she left the group's building under the watchful eyes of the employees.

Simultaneously, gossip began spreading within the company.

"The CEO's wife is kinda pretty."

"Kinda??? I object to your choice of adverb!"

"Being observant, I noticed the CEO's wife came out wearing a new diamond bracelet. Hehe."

"? Sis, you're truly next level."

"Sis, with your keen eye for detail, wanna come scrub some dust for our cleaning team?”

"Conclusion: The married couple is deeply in love."

While Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen’s plastic marriage was mended, on another side, Zhang Baoshu had landed herself in major trouble over the exposure incident.

 

"Please believe me, it's really just a misunderstanding. I also don't know why it suddenly…"

Zhang Qi cut her off impatiently. “Stop fucking acting innocent with me. Can’t you weigh your own damn worth? You dare play me? I’m telling you, if you dare show your face in front of me one more time, I’ll fucking end you!"

"I…"

Before Zhang Baoshu could say more, Zhang Qi hung up directly.

She clutched her phone, lips pale, trembling all over as she sat on the sofa.

It had all started with a momentary lapse in judgment. She’d wanted to use her connection with Zhang Qi to hype up a persona: a low-key, wealthy, beautiful woman with a deeply connected boyfriend.

She’d thought with so much news out there, and given their… fleeting intimacy, Zhang Qi wouldn’t make a fuss over one ambiguous press release.

Who could have known that on the night they first met, at that business dinner, a reporter, tipped off with internal club info, had been staking it out for news on another actress who was supposed to be there. That actress never showed, but the reporter incidentally snapped photos of her and Cen Sen.

A thought struck her. She had the reporter replace the photo in the release with one of Cen Sen, while keeping the text and video unchanged.

This way, she could later hire people to stir up discussion, posting exposés claiming the man in the photo wasn't Zhang Qi, but the even more well-connected Jingjian heir.

She figured even if Cen Sen’s side came knocking, she could play ignorant and distance herself, just say the reporter made a mistake, that the one she was involved with was Zhang Qi.

But she never expected that Cen Sen couldn’t be bothered with her at all. He went straight to Zhang Qi, causing trouble and halting cooperation between their families. Which directly led to Zhang Qi taking his displeasure out on her.

Her mind went blank, filled with both confusion and panic.

---

Around noon, the French restaurant near the CBD had few customers. Gentle notes of music floated in the air, waiters gliding silently back and forth.

Today’s main courses were French-style roast veal and sautéed mushrooms. After the waiter left, Ji Mingshu repeated her question from earlier. “Then why were you smiling at her?”

Back in the office, she’d been sidetracked and forgot the details. Now at the restaurant, eating away, she suddenly remembered that rare smile of Cen Sen’s in the photo.

It was just so strange. In front of his own wife, he wore a cold expression, not even showing a hint of tenderness after intimacy. Yet he’d smiled quite happily in front of that D-list actress.

The thought alone killed Ji Mingshu's appetite. She mulled it over left and right, and finally asked.

Cen Sen swirled his wine glass, giving her a deep look. "I wasn't smiling at her."

Was he smiling at a pixie then?

This Dog Man, talking in half-sentences, went back to eating without any intention of further explanation. Perplexed, Ji Mingshu couldn't resist pulling up the paparazzi photo again for a look.

In the photo where he was smiling, Cen Sen's gaze seemed directed slightly downward.

Mentally tracing his line of sight, it landed on Zhang Baoshu’s handbag.

That bag…

If even Cen Sen, who paid little attention to women's attire, could recognize it at a glance, how could Ji Mingshu, steeped in luxury brands since childhood, be less perceptive?

She immediately recalled her series of glorious achievements: using that very bag to cover Cen Sen’s head, pummeling him, and declaring she'd kill him, the pervert.

After a moment of silence, she put down her phone, picked up her knife and fork, and said as if nothing had happened, "This French restaurant is quite authentic. The steak is good."

Cen Sen gave her a faint glance but didn't respond.

As usual, the meal was another excruciating exam-hall experience with the proctor sitting across from her, urging her to hand in her paper.

Just as Ji Mingshu couldn't take it anymore and wanted to tell Cen Sen to gouge his own eyes out so he'd stop staring at her while she ate, Cen Sen suddenly asked, "In a couple of days, Jiang Che, Zhao Yang, and the others are returning to the capital. We're meeting up at Heyong Club. Are you coming?"

Ji Mingshu looked up. "Why should I?"

"Suit yourself."

"…"

"Is that any way to invite someone? If you don't want me to go, then don't ask. Is that it? You don't want me to go? Well, now I'm definitely going."

Ji Mingshu was getting a little huffy.

Cen Sen rubbed the bridge of his nose, once again sensing a severe communication barrier with this wife of his whose brain had short-circuited.

He said no more, simply stating, "I'll send someone to pick you up when the time comes."

Jiang Che, Zhao Yang, Shu Yang were guys of Cen Sen's age from the same compound. After Cen Sen moved back to Nanqiao Hutong, they gradually began spending time together and later attended the same schools. They were childhood friends with a bond of over a decade, if not two.

Ji Mingshu naturally knew them as well. But having once led her little clique in ostracizing Cen Sen, she naturally harbored no goodwill toward the company he kept either. Whenever they met at school, her treatment of them universally consisted of cold snorts, eye-rolls, and the pop of blown chewing gum bubbles.

Of course, this animosity existed solely on Ji Mingshu’s side. The boys were all older and regarded her as nothing more than a spoiled younger sister, occasionally teasing her for amusement.

So when news of Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen’s marriage broke without warning, these childhood friends were stunned. Awed at their brother’s courage, or death wish, and the depth of his pockets, bold enough to marry the little lady. Some even felt a trace of sympathy for him. 

---

In the ‘Dream of Nanke’ private room at Heyong Club, a warm yellow square lamp cast a slanted glow behind a partially obscured screen. Jiang Che lit a cigarette, the ember a fine, glowing line, flickering.

After lighting it, he pushed the cigarette case towards Cen Sen. Cen Sen didn't take one.

Zhao Yang, now a respectable doctor, usually didn't touch the stuff either.

Shu Yang, however, nudged his chin towards his new, young girlfriend, signaling her to fetch one for him.

Zhao Yang and Shu Yang were always the rowdier ones, especially Shu Yang. Their outings usually involved calling over a few ‘companions’ to liven things up. Today, he had only restrained himself because he’d heard Ji Mingshu was coming. Otherwise, Miss Ji would probably have doused him in wine again, berated him for dragging down her standards, and declared him unworthy of sharing the same Shu in their names.

Cen Sen, on the other hand, preferred quiet and couldn’t stand that kind of rowdiness. He usually interacted more with Jiang Che.

The two also have several joint investments, so whenever they got together, the conversation inevitably turned to work.

Now, seated around a square table playing cards, Cen Sen and Jiang Che launched straight into financial jargon the moment they opened their mouths. Which Shu Yang found extremely tedious.

Shu Yang: "I'm telling you guys, can we not talk about your various projects when we finally get together?"

“Especially you, Brother Sen. What’s the point of making all that money if it all ends up going to that woman Ji Mingshu? I’m telling you, she’ll spend every cent you earn and still want more. You think she’s the type to be thrifty and manage the household, building some generational fortune? Don’t work yourself to death. Life’s short, treat yourself a little, will you?”

Zhao Yang glanced at the time and asked casually, “Brother Sen, why isn’t your wife here yet?”

Before Cen Sen could answer, Shu Yang cut in. "Why even ask? Can Miss Ji possibly leave the house without three to five hours of primping and preening?"

Zhao Yang and Jiang Che both chuckled softly, silently agreeing with his answer.

Shu Yang, a little tipsy, continued his grand discourse. "Brother Sen, you know what you are? You're the guy who earns the most money to raise the most expensive golden canary!”

“As for me, I believe in cost-effectiveness. No need to earn that much. These little birds, these pretty vases, aren’t they all just for keeping? Ordinary ones are fine. I can switch to a new one every day and still not repeat for years!”

 

He grew prouder as he spoke, his mouth running non-stop.

Cen Sen, holding his cards, glimpsed past the sparkling high heels behind the screen. He lifted his gaze and shot Shu Yang a look.

Jiang Che also flicked ash from his cigarette, gave a light cough, and reached for his glass of iced whiskey.

Shu Yang, however, failed spectacularly to catch either hint, merrily stomping on every landmine in sight. “Oh right, Brother Sen, Li Wenyin finished her studies. She should be coming back to the country soon. Did you know?"

This time, Jiang Che’s cough was very much real. He choked outright.

Zhao Yang could already feel the danger thickening in the air.

"In my opinion, Li Wenyin is quite pretty too. And she’s got that artistic vibe, very distinctive. Plus, she’s in the arts! Not extravagant at all!”

As he rambled on, something finally felt off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up without warning.

After a pause of about two seconds, his voice suddenly rose in pitch. "BUT! A man earns money for his woman to spend! Just like Brother Sen! I truly envy Brother Sen! Having a woman with such exquisite taste to help him spend his money!”

“Xiao Shu has such great taste, such a great figure, such profound beauty! Tell me, can you find a second one like her in all of the capital? One of a kind in the whole city! Taking her out gives you so much face! Isn’t that the very value of a man’s existence? Say, how did Brother Sen get so lucky, marrying such a fairy-like wife?!"

——

Author's Note: 

Little Canary Baby: secretly watching.jpg

Shu Yang: The will to survive sparks quick wit :)

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