My Queen, My Rules - 28
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The air fell silent for what felt like an eternity.
Ji Mingshu froze. Just like Cen Sen, she stared at the group chat on the screen, so stunned that she completely forgot to snatch her phone back.
Thankfully, thirty seconds later, the screen locked itself automatically.
Cen Sen's gaze slowly lifted from the darkened phone to Ji Mingshu's exquisitely pretty, utterly dumbfounded face. His eyes traveled over her features inch by inch, as though he were conducting serious research into exactly what connection this dazzling beauty could possibly have with a ‘pure innocent college girl’.
Ji Mingshu: Speechless. :)
A full minute passed in this silent standoff. Just when Ji Mingshu was convinced she was about to die of sheer embarrassment in the back of a luxury car, they finally arrived at the hotel.
The instant the car came to a stop, she didn't even wait for the valet to open the door and bolted out herself.
Keeping her head down, she hurriedly slipped on her sunglasses and strode into the hotel, her hands trembling as she opened WeChat. She frantically cleared the group chat history and obediently changed the group name to ‘Three Little Fairies’.
Heaven was her witness. She would never again follow internet trends and give a chat group some ridiculous name. And she would absolutely never gossip about someone to their face ever again. :)
And while Heaven was at it, let them testify that I, Ji-shi Shushu, am a Little Canary Baby who is wholeheartedly, sincerely devoted to money.
Even so, for the briefest two or three seconds, her pride managed to overpower material desire. A thought flashed through her mind: As long as I never embarrass myself in front of that Dog Man again, I'd gladly leave this marriage with nothing.
To avoid the unbearable awkwardness of facing Cen Sen, Ji Mingshu skipped her room entirely and headed straight to the revolving restaurant for dinner.
Estimating the timing carefully, she vanished before he came to eat and escaped to the spa. After that, she rented one of the hotel's mini karaoke rooms and held a two-hour solo concert for herself.
She dragged things out until well past Cen Sen's usual bedtime before finally sneaking back up to their suite.
Only a floor lamp was on in the room, casting everything in dim, amber light.
The bed in the bedroom was perfectly made. The pillows and duvet lay smooth and undisturbed.
Where was Cen Sen? He wasn't asleep yet?
She changed into her slippers at the entrance and quietly peeked into the study.
No one there.
She pushed open the door leading into the living room.
The faint scent of vodka lingered in the air. Following the smell, Ji Mingshu spotted several empty bottles scattered across the coffee table.
Cen Sen sat slumped against the sofa, his head tipped back slightly, eyes tightly closed.
The smell of alcohol on him was heavy, yet his resting face looked strangely peaceful, without any obvious sign of drunkenness.
She walked over, reached out a finger, and gently poked his cheek. "Are you asleep?" she asked softly.
No response.
Straightening up, she let out a quiet breath of relief, though a sigh escaped her all the same.
People in his line of work attended endless business dinners. Most of them had long since developed a physical aversion to alcohol. Unless absolutely necessary, they usually avoided drinking.
Her eldest and second uncles were the same. Whenever they came home for family meals, they never touched alcohol. Even during holiday gatherings, they only drank a little.
For him to drink this much today... he must be feeling pretty awful inside.
After standing there for a while, Ji Mingshu's charitable instincts got the better of her. She quietly draped a blanket over him.
Just as she was about to slip away unnoticed, Cen Sen suddenly caught her wrist and slowly opened his eyes.
"..."
Ji Mingshu blinked, startled. Recovering quickly, she hurried to explain, "I was just covering you with a blanket. That's all. I didn't do anything."
Then she asked, "Do... do you want to sleep in the bed instead?"
Cen Sen didn't answer. With a slight pull, he drew her straight into his arms.
He wrapped her in a firm embrace, burying his face in her soft hair. He breathed her in, slow and deep, and closed his eyes again.
Ji Mingshu had no idea what he was doing. He held her so tightly she couldn't even struggle free. All she could do was keep grumbling into his ear.
"Hey, let go of me."
"Quit pretending to sleep. Say something!"
"Seriously, what's wrong with you? If you can't handle alcohol, don't drink so much. And if you're going to throw up, warn me first. Don't you dare throw up on me."
"...Have you hugged enough yet? My arm's gone numb!"
"Stop talking. Let me hold you a little longer."
Cen Sen's voice came low and husky, he loosened his grip just slightly.
Ji Mingshu, as if under some strange spell, actually obediently shut her mouth.
The room was still. They sat pressed close together, each breath brushing against the other's ear, their heartbeats seeming almost close enough to hear.
In the dead of night, memories always had a way of resurfacing.
Back in middle school, the junior and senior divisions of their affiliated school had shared the same campus. For four years, she and Cen Sen attended the same school.
She was never what anyone would call a model student. She'd received plenty of disciplinary notices for breaking school rules. But to be fair, her grades had always been quite good. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gotten into a top university later on.
Back then, after every monthly or midterm exam, the school would post the honor rankings. Once she'd checked her own grade's rankings, she'd always wander over to look at Cen Sen's.
His ranking, however, was about as immovable as Jiang Che's. The two of them spent all year trading first and second place.
Once, there had been a glorious occasion when Cen Sen dropped out of the top ten. She'd been so delighted she practically floated over to the Cen family home after school to freeload dinner. While she was at it, she eagerly tattled to Old Madam Cen, hinting that Cen Sen's dramatic decline probably meant he'd become addicted to online games or secretly gotten himself a little girlfriend, and that Grandma absolutely had to teach him a proper lesson.
She'd complained with boundless enthusiasm, and Old Madam Cen had cheerfully played along, promising to give Cen Sen a thorough interrogation when he got home.
Only later, when Ji Mingshu strutted over to gloat in front of him, did she learn the truth. He'd fallen out of the top ten because he'd represented the school at a Youth Environmental Forum and missed one of the exams. Her triumphant arrogance was instantly and completely extinguished.
Looking back now, she realized she'd always hated seeing Cen Sen do well.
Later, when he started dating that little white lotus, Li Wenyin, she had no idea why, but it annoyed her to no end.
It took her a long time to convince herself it was actually a good thing. Menaces like those two deserved to be tied together, tossed into a crematorium as a matching set, and recycled into microorganisms that could finally contribute something to this beautiful world.
At the time, she'd never imagined that one day she'd marry her former "archenemy," let alone being held so intimately in his arms like this.
The thought made the tips of Ji Mingshu's ears flush.
As if on cue, the next second, Cen Sen brushed a kiss against her ear.
His alcohol-laced breath was warm and damp, his voice little more than an indistinct murmur, as though he weren't fully awake.
"Tell me something. If I lost everything... would you leave me?"
"...?"
The sudden burst of sentimentality abruptly snapped Ji Mingshu out of her reminiscences, it felt like someone had smacked the top of her head.
This was so unlike Cen Sen. Even dead drunk, he should still be mumbling things like, ‘Tomorrow the A-shares have a strong chance of opening higher’, or ‘Tell the project manager to figure out the funding shortfall himself’. That was far more in character for a capitalist tyrant like him.
Goosebumps prickled over her skin. But then another possibility occurred to her.
Maybe Cen Sen was only this cold and emotionless around her. Maybe around certain women he was generous, affectionate, impossibly gentle. Half-drunk like this, had he mistaken her for someone else, and slipped into this awkward, melodramatic CEO persona?
The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. To avoid hearing more words that might make her want to dismember him in his drunken state, she emphasized, "Are you asking me? I'm Ji Mingshu. Ji Mingshu!"
"Mmm. Ji Mingshu. I'm asking you."
"..."
So, he really was talking to her.
Ji Mingshu's traitorous heart skipped a beat. At the same time, something inside her softened, and warmth spread across her cheeks.
She forced herself to stay composed and answered stubbornly, "W-What kind of dream are you having? Have nothing and expect me to suffer alongside you? Look at that mouth of yours. If you weren't rich, who would ever marry you?"
When Cen Sen didn't respond, she muttered a little more under her breath, trying to build momentum for herself. "I'm telling you, it's only because I'm far too kind. What other woman would put up with you? You deserve to stay single forever. You'd better start treating me nicer."
Buy me an aircraft carrier!
Cen Sen let out a quiet laugh. Whether he was too drunk to process what she'd said or simply couldn't be bothered to argue, he offered no rebuttal, merely tightened his arms around her once more.
Everyone in this world compromised with reality.
His adoptive parents had insisted a thousand times they would never compromise. But in the end, they still sent him away because they needed the Cen family's money to treat An Ning's illness.
The Cen family had been equally determined to keep Cen Yang at first. Yet in the end, because it was his blood that carried the Cen lineage, his return carried greater significance than Cen Yang's place within the household, and so Cen Yang was the one who was sent away.
There was no need to mention the Ji family. Cen Sen had long known they intended to arrange Ji Mingshu's marriage. It was only because he intervened that they decided the Cen family offered greater benefits. Without hesitation, they abandoned their original choice and married Ji Mingshu to him instead.
So-called family ties. So-called difficult circumstances.
In the end, they were all just excuses people invented after weighing what mattered more and what mattered less. Yet people insisted on dressing those choices up in noble justifications instead of admitting the truth.
He used to think Ji Mingshu was shallow. But the longer he spent with her, the more he realized she understood life far more clearly than he did.
Whatever she could say, she said openly.
Whatever she couldn't, like whether the Ji family truly adored her as much as everyone believed, she understood better than anyone. She simply never voiced it.
On reflection, perhaps life was easier if you'd never had a family to lose in the first place. To have possessed that warmth and then lost it, no matter how many years passed, the regret never truly faded.
If Ji Mingshu would only abandon him once he had nothing left, then all he had to do was remain wealthy forever.
As long as he kept his money, he could keep a familiar little canary by his side.
When he thought of it that way, perhaps it wasn't such a bad arrangement after all.
At least she belonged to him in the most vivid and genuine way possible.
It was two in the morning. The sleeping city had fallen completely silent.
The strength slowly drained from Cen Sen's arms as sleep finally overtook him.
Carefully, Ji Mingshu eased herself out of his embrace and gently lowered him onto the sofa.
By the time she'd finished, she felt surprisingly tired.
She sat down beside the sofa and looked quietly at his sleeping face. Her fingertips traced the lines of his brows, the bridge of his nose, slowly, gently, as though sketching his features one stroke at a time.
His complexion was cool and fair. Sharp brows, bright eyes, a straight nose, thin lips. The kind of face no one forgot after seeing it once.
When he was younger, there had been a clean, effortless brightness to him. As an adult, that had settled into calm reserve and quiet distance. No matter how long she looked, she never seemed to tire of his face.
Well, as long as he kept his mouth shut.
Resting her chin in her hand, Ji Mingshu thought back to the question he'd asked.
For the first time, she realized that perhaps he, too, longed for a kind of warmth he refused to admit he wanted.
A strange thought suddenly crossed her mind.
If one day Cen Sen really went bankrupt... then as long as he behaved himself... for the sake of this face… she might, possibly, perhaps… be willing to sell her handbags to support him.
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