My Queen, My Rules - 21

Hug Me

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‘Metamorphosis’?

After hanging up, Ji Mingshu’s mind went blank for a second.

Was he saying she was suited to go kill pigs, plant vegetables, and herd cows in some godforsaken, internet-free backwater as part of a New Era Socialist Re-education program?

Was he even human? How could he say something like that?

“So what if I spent a bit of his stinking money! Is that any reason for him to be so vicious?”

“Why doesn’t he go get ‘re-educated’!”

Fuming, Ji Mingshu devoured three macarons in one go, her tone dripping with utter disbelief that such a callously heartless man could exist in this world.

Gu Kaiyang instinctively corrected her, “Well, it’s definitely more than just ‘a bit’ of money.”

Ji Mingshu immediately shoved a macaron into Gu Kaiyang’s mouth, her eyes clearly saying**,** Just eat and shut up already.

Jiang Chun, unaware of the true nature of Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen’s relationship and assuming this was just some playful banter between a loving couple, focused entirely on the fact that Ji Mingshu had attacked the desserts first.

She swallowed a mouthful of saliva discreetly and chimed in perfunctorily, “Don’t be angry, don’t be angry. Your husband was definitely just joking. How could he bear to let you participate in that… ‘Metamorphosis’ program?”

As she spoke, her little silver fork made a stealthy advance toward the tiramisu.

Before it could make contact, Ji Mingshu smacked her goose-like claw away, issuing a second yellow-card warning with her eyes.

Jiang Chun wilted, radiating deep resentment.

Perhaps having been suppressed by Ji Mingshu too much lately, she suddenly sat bolt upright the next second, possessed by the spirit of Niohuru Little Earth Goose, her mouth running a mile a minute in furious retaliation.

“As if ‘Metamorphosis’ would even invite you! You better not go. What did the poor farmers do to deserve hosting a menace like you? You can’t carry a thing on your shoulders, can’t lift anything with your hands, can’t even tie your own shoelaces, and you expect to transplant rice seedlings and grow vegetables? My god, if the neighbor’s kid came over and touched your bag, you’d probably shriek: ‘Ah! Get your dirty hands off! This bag costs 1.2 million!!’”

Ji Mingshu: “……?”

A friendship had capsized over a piece of tiramisu.

What had she done wrong in a past life to marry a man like that and befriend a friend like this?

Back home, Ji Mingshu remained deeply immersed in the thought of Cen Sen’s vicious diss, unable to extricate herself.

Going to the bathroom, she discovered her period had arrived. With a faint sense of melancholy, she sank into the sofa and began seriously pondering Gu Kaiyang’s earnest advice.

Actually, after the false alarm of the ‘affair’ incident, she had given it some serious thought: if that day ever came, if she and Cen Sen really reached the point of divorce, how would she live the rest of her life?

Before marriage, the Ji family treated her well, but she held no actual company shares or property that could be liquidated for significant cash.

After marriage, Cen Sen let her spend freely, but they had a prenup. In a divorce, she wouldn’t get a cent. She’d leave with nothing but the clothes on her back.

If that dog man wanted to be truly ruthless, she might not even be able to keep any of the luxuries she’d lavishly spent on over the years.

Moreover, Ji Mingshu understood the current relationship between the Cen and Ji families better than Cen Sen did. If they really divorced, the Ji family would be the first to come for her.

Adding it all up, aside from Bocui Tianhua**,** which was under her name, everything else could vanish into thin air the second the divorce was finalized.

Thinking of this, Ji Mingshu felt a tiny sliver of crisis.

But she’d been raised in the lap of luxury by the Ji family for the purpose of a marriage alliance. Her awareness of earning her own living was, to put it mildly, nonexistent.

Plus, she had already skipped the process and achieved the result, living the extravagant, dizzying life most people only dreamed of. Asking her to find life unsatisfactory and hunt for some dream to struggle for was really quite a tall order.

So, this tiny sliver of crisis wasn’t enough to awaken any independent consciousness she might have hidden in some forgotten corner.

But—

Her rebellious spirit was far stronger than her independent consciousness.

After ten minutes of wallowing in sadness on the sofa, she pictured the faint mockery on Cen Sen’s face as he suggested she join ‘Metamorphosis.’ Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed her phone to confirm with Meng Xiaowei, then went upstairs to pack.

This wasn’t the first time Ji Mingshu had deliberately defied Cen Sen. So, Cen Sen, en route to a business dinner, wasn’t particularly surprised to receive confirmation that Ji Mingshu had agreed to join the show.

Zhou Jiaheng asked, “President Cen, should we have the program team replace Young Madam?”

“No need,” Cen Sen said, massaging his temple. “Adjust the team pairings. Cancel the highlighted filming focus. And unless she says something herself, there’s no need to specifically inform the TV station of her identity.”

Zhou Jiaheng paused briefly before acknowledging, “Understood.”

Junyi was the primary sponsor of this interior design reality show.

To build hype for their upcoming designer-brand hotel, ‘Junyi Yaji,’ the group had poured heavy investment into Xingcheng TV, interfering with everything from title sponsorship to program flow.

Moreover, two of the up-and-coming designers featured were actually talents Junyi had scouted and hired to design for ‘Junyi Yaji’ and were slated to play major roles in the show.

Ji Mingshu, of course, remained completely oblivious to all this.

Half an hour later, the Bentley pulled up at the entrance of Fengtang. Zhou Jiaheng exited first to open the door for Cen Sen.

Tonight’s dinner was unavoidable. It was set up by Director Chen, an old acquaintance of Cen Yuanchao. No need to guess—Director Chen was playing matchmaker, trying to pull investment for a film project from Cen Sen.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, a hostess in a qipao with her hair in a bun guided Cen Sen inside.

She led him to a private room on the third floor. Just as she slid open the lattice-paneled door for him, Zhou Jiaheng received the latest update: Ji Mingshu had departed for Xingcheng.

He followed behind Cen Sen and reported in a low voice.

Cen Sen listened. It was only when he approached the table that he noticed an old acquaintance was present.

Li Wenyin was wearing a sleeveless, high-necked grey sweater dress**,** simple earrings**, and** her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, her features delicate and understated, her lipstick a pale**,** watery pink.

From a distance, she exuded the aura of an intellectual, artistic woman.

Li Wenyin didn’t seem surprised by Cen Sen’s arrival, nor did her expression fluctuate much. She only raised her glass slightly when Director Chen made the introduction, toasting him.

“Xiao Li just returned from advanced studies in France. A very promising young director! The project she’s preparing now has an excellent theme—sunny, positive, uplifting! It’s a qualitative difference from all those themes nowadays that portray the dark side of youth!” Director Chen said.

“A-Sen, doesn’t your group also invest in some film and TV projects now? If you’re interested, you could support talented, visionary young directors like Xiao Li!”

“Come, come, Xiao Li, toast President Cen. President Cen is one of the most outstanding young talents in the capital!”

Li Wenyin offered the toast. Cen Sen also lifted his glass for a light clink. But he didn’t drink. After the clink, he set his glass down and deftly steered the conversation with Director Chen toward other topics.

Until the dinner concluded, Cen Sen did not exchange any extra words with Li Wenyin.

At one point in his life, he had held Li Wenyin, so completely different from Ji Mingshu, in high regard. But he took relationships lightly. They had dated for three months after high school graduation, yet now, years later, he actually couldn’t recall many details.

The night was deep. As Cen Sen walked out of the club, he instructed Zhou Jiaheng to confirm which hotel Ji Mingshu was staying at in Xingcheng.

Some matters required Zhou Jiaheng to stay behind in the capital. For tonight’s trip to Xingcheng, only his bodyguards would accompany him.

“Cen Sen.”

A familiar female voice came from behind.

Cen Sen paused mid-step and glanced back.

During dinner, Li Wenyin had been seated, visible only from the waist up. Standing now, her graceful figure and elegant bearing were even more apparent.

She walked closer, offered a light smile, and extended her hand. “Long time no see.”

Cen Sen replied flatly, “Long time no see.”

Seeing that Cen Sen made no move to shake hands, Li Wenyin simply tilted her head slightly and naturally withdrew her hand.

She continued frankly, “Actually, I knew yesterday that you’d be attending this dinner today. But when you’re in the game, trying to scrape together some investment, one can’t avoid recommending the qualified, even if they’re an ex. I hope you don’t mind.”

Her voice was, as always, gentle with a touch of spirited wittiness, the sense of propriety perfectly measured.

Li Wenyin knew that Cen Sen was emotionally cold. But no matter what, they had been in a relationship. Their breakup hadn’t been so ugly as to swear off seeing each other ever again. At the very least, she should be able to get a “no problem” from him.

Yet the moment her words fell, she heard Cen Sen reply without hesitation with three different words: “I do mind.”

Hearing these three words, not just Li Wenyin, but even Cen Sen himself paused instinctively.

The scene felt familiar. It seemed not long ago, outside another club, he’d said the same thing to another woman.

There was another sentence after that… what was it? He seemed to have complimented Ji Mingshu, rather extravagantly at that.

Cen Sen’s brief distraction took on a completely different meaning in Li Wenyin’s eyes.

She had met someone too dazzling in her youth. For so many years, it had been difficult for her to completely let go of the person she once loved. Even after he married, that obsession never faded from her heart.

Did his ‘I do mind’ mean… he felt the same way?

Li Wenyin wanted to say more, but Zhou Jiaheng, who had similarly misread the situation, for some reason very much overstepped his bounds by giving a soft, deliberate cough.

Cen Sen snapped back to the present. Recalling his next appointment, he continued coolly, “Film and TV investment isn’t Junyi’s core business. But since Director Chen made a special introduction, I can have you go through the process with Huazhang Holdings. However, film projects have become increasingly difficult and high-risk in recent years. The company needs to conduct a precise risk assessment. Whether we invest or not in the end isn’t a decision I can make alone. My apologies, I have another engagement and must take my leave.”

Once in the car heading to the airport, Zhou Jiaheng immediately admitted his fault. “My apologies, President Cen.”

Regardless of whether Cen Sen had unresolved feelings for his ex or not, as an assistant, he shouldn’t have interjected.

“It’s fine.”

Cen Sen didn’t dwell on it and proceeded to brief him on several work matters.

It was already 2 a.m. when he arrived in Xingcheng. The entire city was silent. Cen Sen went straight to the Junyi Huazhang where Ji Mingshu was staying.

The front desk already had his room key ready. He went straight up to the top-floor suite. The room was lit with warm, yellow lights, but Ji Mingshu was nowhere to be seen.

A good while later, he finally heard a faint, weak moan from the other side of the bed.

Walking over, he found Ji Mingshu lying on the carpet beside the bed, her whole body curled up like a little shrimp.

Ji Mingshu had arrived in Xingcheng a little after ten. After freshening up and going to bed, her stomach started to ache. She’d called room service, but even after drinking a large cup of brown sugar ginger tea, there was no improvement.

By now, the worst of the pain had passed. She just didn’t have the strength to get up.

Half-asleep, seeing a blurry, familiar silhouette, she thought she was dreaming of the gentle, R-18 version of Cen Sen again. For some reason, she felt particularly wronged. Stretching her arms up, she whined, “Carry me.”

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