My Queen, My Rules - 31
Hungry
Ji Mingshu: [You told Pei Xiyan to keep his distance from me?]
Ji Mingshu: [Are you even human?]
Ji Mingshu: [Since meeting you, all I've wanted to know is how many years you get for murder.jpg]
Ten minutes later, she finally received a reply from Cen Sen.
He said nothing in response to her questions. He only addressed her last meme by sending back a screenshot of the criminal sentencing guidelines for intentional homicide.
A quick scan showed sentences starting at ten years, with suspended death sentences and the death penalty taking center stage.
Ji Mingshu: [?]
Ji Mingshu: [I see you don't want a wife anymore.jpg]
This time, Cen Sen didn't continue sparring with memes. He simply held down the voice-message button and said evenly, "Getting too close to a celebrity at the height of his popularity won't do you any favors. Tone it down a little."
He checked the time and added, “By the way, I’m flying to Los Angeles tonight. I’ll be back in a week. But I’ll stop by the capital first before coming to Xingcheng.”
"Zhou Jiaheng is already in Xingcheng. If anything comes up, contact him."
The situation at the Xingcheng branch proved even trickier than expected.
Over the years, Jingjian's internal power struggles had never truly settled. Cen Yuanchao had devoted enormous effort to cleaning the house, but in doing so, he left many of Junyi Group's day-to-day operations without close oversight.
As Junyi Group's second-largest stronghold, the Xingcheng branch had been under the control of its senior management for years. They had carved out something close to an independent kingdom. Dismantling that kind of entrenched power overnight was unrealistic; they could only chip away at it piece by piece.
Cen Sen couldn’t put all his other work on hold for over one branch's internal conflicts. So he had Zhou Jiaheng oversee the situation while he stepped away temporarily to negotiate a more critical partnerships.
Ji Mingshu listened to the two voice messages and stared blankly for three seconds.
This was his reason for tearing apart the Yan-Shu pairing?
But any further messages she sent to Cen Sen sank like a stone, vanishing into silence.
Fuming, she immediately treated him to the deluxe "never meet again in life or death" package. Block. Delete. The entire sequence flowed as smoothly as breathing. Even then, she couldn't resist mentally drawing circles to curse the Dog Man to have a "pleasant journey." Worried circles alone weren't powerful enough, she added a few polygons and triangular prisms for good measure.
After she'd vented, another thought occurred to her. Since Cen Sen's route was blocked, maybe Pei Xiyan would be the breakthrough.
The kid was still young. A little coaxing, and he'd probably spill everything. How he'd met Cen Sen. Exactly what Cen Sen had said when telling him to keep his distance from her. She could even give the poor kid a proper brainwashing session and convince him not to listen to Cen Sen's nonsense.
Unfortunately, she had gravely underestimated Pei Xiyan's principles.
Having promised Cen Sen to keep his distance, he took it to the extreme, absolutely avoiding any physical contact. He rarely even looked her in the eye, much less gave her a chance to corner him into conversation. During filming, the moment he sensed she was about to approach, he quietly moved away on his own.
Ji Mingshu was livid.
The only consolation was that his deliberate avoidance didn't stand out all that much amid his equally frosty attitude toward everyone else.
Throughout filming, he remained silent and aloof, following instructions without complaint. He embodied the saying "do more, talk less" with almost frightening dedication.
Compared to him, Yan Yuexing was the textbook opposite.
The other three members of the team combined didn't speak as much as she did, yet she contributed the least work. She had to stop every few minutes just to catch her breath while sweeping the floor, taking every opportunity to pout, act cute, and chatter to the cameras.
That alone was annoying enough, but she didn't just avoid work, she actively created more of it.
"What on earth did you buy?" Ji Mingshu demanded. "Six thousand five hundred? Have you lost your mind?"
Caught between their shrinking budget, the pressure of being the team's backbone, and the heartbreak of "my baby is ignoring me," Ji Mingshu learned the harsh realities of life in just a few short days.
At first, she had no concept of budgeting whatsoever. In her mind, two hundred thousand wasn't even enough to renovate a bathroom. Expecting it to cover an entire house felt like a joke.
Later, she'd quietly sought advice from experienced designers on the other teams and searched online for renovation case studies from ordinary families. Only then did she realize the show's budget was actually quite reasonable.
She had also spent several straight days wandering building-material markets and furniture stores. Seeing prices firsthand, she discovered that many materials weren't nearly as expensive as she'd always assumed. Even soft furnishings offered countless affordable choices if you weren't chasing iconic designer pieces or limited editions.
In only a few days, Miss Ji, who'd once considered nothing too luxurious, had compiled an extensive Excel spreadsheet for the two-hundred-thousand renovation budget. Every expense had been calculated down to the last digit. She repeatedly reminded her teammates not to buy anything impractical or unrelated to the design plan.
Who would've thought Yan Yuexing would disregard teamwork entirely and suddenly come back carrying a rug that cost six thousand five hundred.
Faced with Ji Mingshu's barely restrained fury, Yan Yuexing remained perfectly confident, putting on an innocent face as she said, "It's a rug. Don't you think it's stunning? It's this famous designer's limited edition for this year. There was only one left in the whole furniture market."
Ji Mingshu recognized the design at a glance. Without even looking up, she said, “Return it.”
"Why? This rug is very versatile. Wouldn't it look amazing under the living room sofa? It has that really postmodern vibe."
After Ji Mingshu mocked her taste during the first recording for being a "country socialite," Yan Yuexing had stubbornly gone home and crammed design terminology for several days. Since then, she kept peppered her speech with words like “postmodern” and “high saturation,”, hoping it'd make her sound artistic at first glance.
Ji Mingshu no longer cared that the cameras were still rolling. Her head pounded, her chest felt tight, and she snapped. "Would you shut up? Do you even know what postmodernism is? This isn’t postmodern, it’s trash!”
She grabbed the rug and tossed it toward Yan Yuexing. "If you don't understand something, then talk less and work more. Did you even graduate from college? Are the songs you sing your own originals? Do you have even the slightest respect for original design? This brand is collectively boycotted by the fashion industry, barred from entering the Chinese market. Instead of learning its lesson, they just slaps its name on a cheap rug through a furniture collaboration, even dares to charge six thousand five hundred for it... And the worst part is there are half-baked posers like you who genuinely singing its praises!"
It was so ridiculous she almost laughed.
Yan Yuexing was completely stunned by the verbal assault.
Feng Yan tried to smooth things over. "Come on, let's just..."
"Absolutely not." Ji Mingshu cut him off before he could finish.
Her gaze stayed fixed on Yan Yuexing, icy and unwavering. "Either return that rug right now, or keep it yourself after the deduction. My work has no place for garbage that's been collectively boycotted."
She hadn't spent days painstakingly balancing every cent in her Excel spreadsheet just so money could be wasted on something like this.
Did this little girl really think she could play games with her? She could go eat shit!
After working together for days, everyone, including the production staff following the team, had figured the dynamic clearly.
On the other teams, the amateur designers mostly existed to fill space. They often had to tactfully indulge the celebrities' unreasonable ideas.
On this team, however, the designer was the undisputed backbone. Whether it was skill or sheer presence, Ji Mingshu overwhelmed everyone. What she said went.
Feng Yan and Pei Xiyan simply did whatever she assigned them. Yan Yuexing loved making trouble, but every clash ended the same way. She was always the one who came away frustrated.
She wanted to throw her weight around like a celebrity, but even Pei Xiyan obediently waited for instructions without complaint. She had neither the influence nor the importance to make the production team indulge her, and the directors ignored her entirely.
So, unsurprisingly, the Rug War ended in another total victory for Ji Mingshu.
Putting on a show of being wronged, Yan Yuexing hugged the rug and headed back to the furniture market to return it, muttering a long stream of pitiful little white lotus complaints to the camera the whole way.
Ji Mingshu, however, had no time to care. The renovation schedule was brutally tight, and every detail required her attention.
All of her previous work, including the conceptual projects she'd completed in school, had existed only on paper. She had never personally carried one through to construction.
This was the first truly livable interior she'd ever designed, and also the first time she'd stayed involved after the drawings were finished to oversee the actual renovation.
During the first two recordings, she'd been distracted. But once she truly immersed herself, she threw her whole heart into the project.
Lunch was the boxed meal provided by the production team. The nutrition was balanced, with meat and vegetables, but the plastic container made it look hardly appetizing. Combined with the dust and unpleasant odors filling the house during renovation, Ji Mingshu completely lost her appetite.
While everyone else was eating, Ji Mingshu remained inside the music room testing the effectiveness of the soundproofing materials.
The moment she stepped out, her vision suddenly went blank.
It took four or five seconds before the stiffness left her body and everything returned to normal.
Rubbing her temples, Ji Mingshu couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with her.
Recently she'd been experiencing spells of dizziness and nausea. It felt suspiciously like the early symptoms of pregnancy people always talked about.
But she and Cen Sen hadn't slept together in a long time, and the last time they did, they'd used protection. She'd also had her period not long ago. Pregnancy seemed impossible.
She walked out onto the balcony to breathe some fresh air.
Suddenly she remembered Yan Yuexing constantly complaining that the house smelled awful and that the formaldehyde would probably poison them all.
That thought unsettled her too.
The paint and similar materials were all sponsor products. She'd looked them up online, and every one carried national environmental certifications.
Still, with these things, who could say for certain?
Ji Mingshu had apparently never heard the saying, "Search your symptoms online once and you're gravely ill. Search twice and your funeral's already planned."
Too timid to see a doctor, she instead searched the internet for her symptoms.
By the time she finished reading, her face had gone pale, her anxiety only deepened.
Over the next few days, Ji Mingshu lost all desire to eat and barely slept. Every day she ran between construction sites and building-material markets. She visibly grew thinner, and god knew the terrifying scenarios she'd been conjuring while lying awake alone each night.
A week passed quickly, and Cen Sen finally began his return trip.
While waiting for his flight, he noticed a boutique of the handbag brand Ji Mingshu often carried and casually went inside to buy one of their newest designs.
His original plan had been to return to the capital first and discuss the An family with the old master.
Instead, the moment his plane landed, Zhou Jiaheng called. "President Cen, Madam fainted on the filming set. She was rushed to a nearby hospital half an hour ago."
"Understood."
Without even leaving the airport, he boarded another flight straight to Xingcheng.
Ji Mingshu had collapsed while helping move furniture.
A wave of dizziness and nausea hit her. Her vision flashed white.
Then everything went black.
The production team rushed her to the hospital and notified the emergency contact she'd listed.
The person she'd listed was Zhou Jiaheng.
As Cen Sen's chief executive assistant, his reliability exceeded about a hundred times that of his boss. His phone was practically always on, and he answered almost immediately.
Within half an hour of being notified, he was already at the hospital.
But Ji Mingshu hadn't woke up.
It wasn't until evening, when the setting sun cast warm orange light through the floor-to-ceiling windows, that her eyelids finally fluttered open.
Another minute or two passed before her thoughts slowly cleared and she realized she'd fainted and been admitted to the hospital.
Her eyes shifted.
She saw Cen Sen standing beside the bed.
Her heart sank.
Even Cen Sen came...
Seeing that she was awake, Cen Sen walked over to the bedside and said calmly, "You're awake."
Ji Mingshu remained silent. Her face was blank, neither happy nor sad.
After countless struggles and immense reluctance inside her heart, she finally asked quietly, "What's wrong with me?"
Cen Sen said nothing.
"It's okay. Just tell me. I can handle it."
Her eyelashes lowered. One hand lay connected to the IV drip, the other was hidden beneath the blanket, clenched tightly into a fist.
Thoughts of all the countries she hadn't visited, all the food she hadn't tasted, and all the Birkin bags she hadn't yet collected sent dull waves of pain through her chest. She'd even started debating whether she should undergo chemotherapy, and if it would make her look ugly.
"..."
"You were hungry.”
---
HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA
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