My Queen, My Rules - 39

Exploding

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The autumn afternoon was bathed in warm, gentle sunlight, the breeze pleasant.

But as the disconnected tone sounded from the phone, the temperature around Cen Sen plummeted to freezing.

Divorce?

Ji Mingshu just mentioned divorce?

Shu Yang, even less adept at reading the room than the sun—which at least had the sense to hide behind a cloud—blurted out a "Holy shit!", his mouth running ahead of his brain. "Did you get back together with Li Wenyin? When did that happen? Holy shit, Brother Sen, how did you manage that? And you let Ji Mingshu find out! What are you gonna do?”

Cen Sen didn't respond. He speed-dialed Zhou Jiaheng, his voice low. "Arrange a return to the capital. Immediately.”

Hearing this, Jiang Che set down his golf club and gave Cen Sen’s shoulder a silent pat.

Zhao Yang also stayed quiet, but the question running through his mind was exactly the same as Shu Yang’s.

It was hardly surprising. They were both men who swam in circles of female companions, playboys who’d seen countless women, without a strong concept of loyalty to love or marriage.

Right now, assuming Cen Sen had cheated with Li Wenyin and been caught by Ji Mingshu, their thoughts naturally leaned towards protecting their buddy’s interests.

After Cen Sen left, the two of them continued their game, discussing as they played.

Shu Yang: “Didn't expect Li Wenyin to still have such pull. She hasn’t been back long, and she’s already hooked him again.”

Zhao Yang thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s her personality. Ji Mingshu’s main issue is her personality. Most men really can’t handle it.”

Shu Yang: “True. Hey, you think they’ll actually go through with it? The divorce?”

Zhao Yang: “No way. You think Ji Rusong and Ji Rubai are dead? Without Jingjian backing them up, is the Ji family even the Ji family anymore? But this mainly depends on Brother Sen's intentions. If he wants a divorce, he’d find a way even without this mess.”

“Right,” Shu Yang nodded. “But Old Master Cen and the old lady both like Ji Mingshu so much, they’d never agree. And Uncle Cen… not to be harsh, but even if they divorced, there’s no way Li Wenyin could ever marry into the family. She’d never get past Uncle Cen.”

Hearing this, Zhao Yang snorted lightly. “Get real. ‘Marry into the family’? Can’t you tell Brother Sen has zero intention of divorcing? Otherwise, why rush back so fast? Ji Mingshu’s just talking. Why are you worrying about nothing?”

…

They chatted more and more animatedly. Within five minutes of Cen Sen leaving, they had already moved on to how the assets should be divided post-divorce.

Jiang Che's attitude towards marriage had always differed from theirs, but they were his brothers. He couldn’t say much. Gazing toward the far end of the green, he only offered a mild, “Enough. Mind your own business.”

One had to admit, Jiang Che’s “mind your own business” was prescient. Unfortunately, his reminder was too gentle. In the time it took him to turn around, the two big-mouths, Zhao Yang and Shu Yang, had already accidentally leaked the news.

The marriage alliance between the Cen and Ji families had always been a subject of intense scrutiny in their small social circle. A sudden change naturally spread like wildfire.

By evening, after being passed through countless mouths and twisted by gossip, the news had reached the ears of the Ji family.

The first calls Ji Mingshu received were from her First Aunt and Second Aunt.

Their spiels were similar. They’d heard she wanted a divorce and were calling to ask what was going on. They said if Cen Sen had bullied her, made her suffer, the Ji family would definitely help her get justice.

The women who married into the Ji family were also from good families. They were well-bred, their words smooth and considerate.

If not for the classic “stick it out for the sake of the family” speech at the end, Ji Mingshu might have truly believed they were calling to protect their own.

She gave vague responses, her mood, having already hit rock bottom, seeming to sink into an icy pond.

Perhaps her less-than-clear attitude gave the Ji family a sense of crisis. After the aunts finished their advice, her First Uncle, Ji Rusong, personally called.

“Xiao Shu, what’s going on with you and A-Sen? Why is everyone suddenly saying you want to divorce A-Sen?”

Ji Rusong got straight to the point, his voice as ever—gentle yet carrying the authority of a man in power.

Ji Mingshu was crouched on the floor packing her luggage. After several calls in a row, she wasn’t surprised by his inquiry.

She put the phone on speaker and placed it to the side, her tone calm. “I’m the one who brought it up, Uncle. He and I… we can’t go on like this.”

“So it really was you?” Ji Rusong hadn’t wanted to believe it. Hearing it now, he finally grew anxious. “Xiao Shu, how can you be so willful!”

Ji Mingshu lowered her eyes and didn’t reply.

Ji Rusong was still at the company. Holding his phone in one hand, the other behind his back, this niece of his was giving him a headache.

He tried to calm himself down. “Xiao Shu, Uncle won’t beat around the bush with you either. You’re an adult. You can’t act on every little whim! Do you know how important the Nanwan project Jingjian is cooperating with us on right now?”

“Times are different now. Jingjian doesn’t necessarily need to cooperate with our Ji family, but if we don’t cooperate with Jingjian, who else can take on a project of this scale? All development will grind to a halt!”

He sighed, his tone turning earnest. “And your Second Uncle. Your Second Uncle has worked diligently for decades, never daring to put a foot wrong! Do you think his current position is easy to maintain? Without Jingjian’s support behind him, how many eyes are watching, waiting to pull him down!”

Ji Rusong's words, full of frustration at her stubbornness yet reluctant to scold her directly, fell on her ears, making the already chaotic mess in Ji Mingshu’s head even more tangled.

She slowly put down the clothes in her hands, then slowly raised her hands to cover her face.

Actually, if Ji Rusong had started by berating her mercilessly, she could have righteously said that they’d only raised her for this marriage alliance, no different from being raised to be ‘Yangzhou thin horses’, and that they had no right to posture as elders and criticize her.

But Ji Rusong hadn’t.

She knew better than anyone that her uncles’ devotion to her had an ulterior motive, but that devotion wasn’t mere pretense.

When she was little, a classmate had mocked her for having no parents, for being a stray child picked out of the garbage. She was so upset she cried and went to complain to Ji Rusong.

When Ji Rusong found out, he dropped everything and rushed back from out of town, going straight to the school to speak with the administration.

When he picked her up after school, he bought her an ice cream. Holding her hand as they walked toward the compound, he coaxed patiently, “Xiao Shu is the Ji family’s little princess. How could she be a stray picked from the garbage? Next time someone talks nonsense, you must remember to tell Uncle. Uncle will go catch the bad guys for you, okay?”

The adult’s deliberately slowed steps and the narrow alley, now long faded to yellow, felt as clear as yesterday when she recalled them now.

Her nose suddenly stung. Tears spilled uncontrollably.

After a long time, she choked up into the phone, “Uncle, I’m sorry. But I really… I really don’t want to live like this anymore. I feel terrible. I feel so terrible right now.”

She couldn’t bear to think of Cen Sen and Li Wenyin together, didn’t dare dwell on the things Li Wenyin had said, and couldn’t convince herself that she was merely angry at Cen Sen for slapping her in the face.

It was supposed to be just a marriage alliance, but suddenly there were other elements involved, and the benefits were no longer pure.

The evening sunset was like the runny yolk of a salted duck egg, orange tinged with red.

Standing by the window, Ji Rusong also suddenly fell silent.

He remembered when Ji Mingshu, having lost both parents, was sent back to the old Ji residence, it had also been at dusk like this.

Back then, the little girl was like a small, pink dumpling. She wore a puffy princess dress, held a beautiful doll in her arms, and was still blissfully innocent of the world.

Seeing him, the little girl’s eyes curved into happy crescents. The nanny taught her to say ‘uncle’, but what came out of her mouth was the funny-sounding ‘luo bo bo’.

In those days, Old Master Ji was still alive, and he himself had just taken over part of Huadian’s business. Young and vigorous, he genuinely adored the little daughter his own brother had left behind.

Not like now, after sailing through countless storms, when all emotions had grown pale. Strangely, the older one gets, the more one becomes a prisoner of circumstance.

Leaning on the window railing, his voice gradually softened. “Xiao Shu, Uncle doesn’t want to force you. I just hope… you can consider the Ji family a little. You’re not in a good state emotionally right now. I won’t say more. You should calm down first, then have a proper talk with A-Sen.”

Ji Mingshu hugged her knees, burying her head in her arms, not speaking for a long time.

Ji Rusong sighed and hung up on his end.

By the time Cen Sen returned to Mingshui Manor, it was nine at night. Tomorrow probably wouldn’t be sunny; there wasn’t a single star in the night sky.

The door to the second-floor master bedroom was ajar. The walk-in closet light was on, and two suitcases emblazoned with monogram logos sat by the doorway.

His expression unchanged, Cen Sen walked over to the walk-in closet, looked at Ji Mingshu crouching inside packing, and asked calmly, "Where do you think you're going?"

Ji Mingshu’s back stiffened. She didn’t turn around or answer.

“Bocui Tianhua?”

“Your Second Uncle just called me. He thinks you need to cool off properly at home."

The apartment at Bocui Tianhua was a gift from Ji Rubai. Compared to Ji Rusong, Ji Rubai’s heart had always been harder.

Understanding the implication, Ji Mingshu shot to her feet. She stared at Cen Sen for a few seconds, then abandoned her packing, grabbed the suitcases by the door, and tried to walk out.

Cen Sen suddenly reached out and stopped her.

“What do you think you’re doing.”

Ji Mingshu lowered her eyelids, her voice cold.

Cen Sen looked at her deeply. “Ji Mingshu, I should be the one asking you that.”

They stood a step apart, frozen in the posture of someone being intercepted mid-stride.

Fatigued from the long journey, Cen Sen’s voice was low, hoarse, and carried an indescribable irritation.

“Li Wenyin’s movie wasn’t an investment I approved. I never intended to slap you in the face. Before losing your temper, you could actually ask me first. I can’t drop everything I’m doing every single time to come back and deal with your princess tantrums just because you’re momentarily unhappy.”

Hearing the latter part, Ji Mingshu suddenly wanted to laugh. “So you think I’m throwing a tantrum because I’m momentarily unhappy, is that it?”

She let go of the suitcase, looked up at the tall man before her, and challenged loudly, “You say the investment for Li Wenyin's movie wasn't approved by you, but is it a fact that Junyi invested in her movie?”

Cen Sen's expression was cold. He didn't respond.

“So it is a fact?”

Ji Mingshu felt her insides twist painfully with anger. Her voice got higher and faster. “Your company is investing in a movie made by your first love to commemorate your so-called pure love. Are you going to tell me you knew nothing about it, and that even now that you know, you have no power to stop it? Cen Sen, you’re twenty-seven. Are you telling me you only understand work and have no grasp of basic social relations, that you don’t even understand such a fundamental concept as avoiding the appearance of impropriety?!"

“It’s not what you imagine. She approached Junyi for investment through Director Chen. Director Chen is an old acquaintance of my father's; it's difficult to refuse him outright, so I had her go through the proper evaluation process with one of the group’s investment subsidiaries.”

Cen Sen believed he was exercising the utmost patience. His explanation was objective. “She secured this investment because the evaluation team believed her movie could yield returns higher than the investment. Whether it’s ultimately invested in or not has nothing to do with me.”

“Has nothing to do with you?” Ji Mingshu laughed in extreme anger. The more she spoke, the more her voice trembled and choked. “Are you telling me the people under you are so incapable of reading the situation? If you had shown any sign of wanting to avoid impropriety, wouldn’t they have actively steered clear?”

She nodded again. "Fine, I won't pursue that. But you know now that she secured Junyi's investment. You know what she's planning to film. Call the group right now and cancel the investment. Call right now and blacklist that movie!”

“Ji Mingshu, I think you need to calm down.”

Cen Sen’s voice was heavy. He tightened his grip on her wrist as she tried to pull away.

Ji Mingshu looked at him. Without warning, tears suddenly rolled down.

She struggled fiercely against Cen Sen’s grip, wiping her face with the back of her hand, but the tears fell in streams, impossible to wipe away.

An indescribable restless irritation surged in Cen Sen’s chest.

Ji Mingshu took two steps back. “I am perfectly calm. You refuse, is that it? You can't do that, can you? President Cen of Junyi, President Cen of Jingjian—is it really so hard for you to blacklist a movie that hasn’t even started filming? Are you truly unable, or are you simply unwilling! If you’re unwilling, fine. We’ll get a divorce. I’ve had enough!”

By the end, Ji Mingshu was hysterical, on the verge of breaking down.

All those emotions hidden deep within, the ones she refused to touch, came pouring out uncontrollably now.

Her face was covered in tears. Her shoulders and fingers trembled.

That’s right.

She, Ji Mingshu, was just the vicious supporting character.

She had liked Cen Sen for many years but refused to face her true feelings, refused to admit it.

She was jealous. Jealous that Li Wenyin had gotten the Cinderella-turned-female-lead script from the start. Jealous that Li Wenyin, despite being inferior to her in looks, figure, and family background, had once won Cen Sen's heart, and that just by reappearing, Cen Sen would feel compassion for her. While she, Ji Mingshu, after three years of marriage to Cen Sen, was simply not liked by him and never would be!

Actually, if it were just a business alliance, she could have deceived herself, could have played deaf and dumb. But why did it have to be Li Wenyin? Had he not considered her feelings for even a second? He knew full well what her relationship with Li Wenyin was, why would he do this!

“Enough of this.”

Hearing Ji Mingshu's ultimatum to ban Li Wenyin's movie or get a divorce, Cen Sen simply found her utterly unreasonable at this moment.

“I’m not making a scene. Cen Sen, I’m serious. Let’s get a divorce.”

She pried his fingers off hers, one by one. Her voice was broken, halting, and strangely calm from exhaustion.

She absolutely would not allow this ludicrous marriage to be stripped of its last shred of dignity by that haunting ex, Li Wenyin. Cen Sen can not like her. Can not love her. But he can't remain married to her while maintaining ties with Li Wenyin. Absolutely not.

Cen Sen felt his temples throb. The restlessness in his heart grew more pronounced. Some words he had never intended to voice somehow slipped out without thought.

“Divorce? You keep throwing that word around. Do you genuinely believe you’ll be better off after a divorce? Ji Mingshu, what could you possibly do without me?”

“Search your conscience. After a divorce, will the Ji family treat you the same as before? How many people in your circle will still be willing to play your foil? You’re not a child. You have to take responsibility for your words and actions.”

Ji Mingshu closed her eyes. “Yes, I’m good for nothing. I can’t do anything. I’m just a caged Golden Canary! So you’ve never taken me seriously, never respected me. Not just you. Your friends, my family, they all think that without you, I’m a waste who can’t even walk on my own!”

“I’m not as good as Li Wenyin. I don’t have her talent, and I don’t have her shamelessness, dragging up the past to harass an ex under the guise of nostalgia! I certainly don't have her skill to actually make you, her ex, slap your own wife in the face to fulfill her dreams! So now I want to fly out of this cage, okay? Even if I'm struck by lightning the moment I fly out, it's none of your business! Get out of my way!"

Ji Mingshu pushed Cen Sen away with all her strength. This time, she didn’t even take the suitcases, trying to walk out.

Since Cen Sen had made it so clear that everything she had was given by him, then she wouldn't shamelessly pack and take these things with her.

But before she could reach the door, Cen Sen suddenly grabbed her wrist from behind and dragged her all the way to the bed, throwing her onto it.

He loosened his tie. A faint, dangerous aura clung to him.

He leaned over Ji Mingshu, twisting her two slender wrists behind her back and holding them tightly in one hand. The other hand gripped her chin, forcing her to accept his kiss.

He rarely kissed with such urgency, such ferocity. He didn’t stop to analyze why he was doing it. He just did it instinctively.

Ji Mingshu had just been crying. Her eyes were red, slightly swollen. The skin around her eyes and her cheeks tasted salty and bitter.

Cen Sen kissed from her lips to her eyes and brows, then to her earlobes, neck, collarbone, as if setting her body ablaze cluster by cluster.

For the first half-minute or so after being thrown onto the bed, Ji Mingshu hadn’t reacted. By the time she did, she was met with a storm of kisses. It wasn’t until Cen Sen started unbuttoning her clothes that she began to struggle.

“Let me go, let me go, let go! You pervert!”

Her hands were pinned tight, completely immobile. The kicking of her legs was straight and feeble.

Only when Cen Sen kissed her lips again did she find the chance to bite him hard. Instantly, the taste of iron spread in both their mouths.

The bite seemed to sober Cen Sen considerably. The restlessness in his heart slowly dissipated.

He braced himself on the bed beside her waist. His thumb slowly wiped over his bleeding lower lip, as if he didn’t feel the pain. His eyes remained fixed on Ji Mingshu, scrutinizing her inch by inch, as if appreciating a delicate work of art.

After a long moment, he stood up. Standing by the bed, he tidied his collar with deliberate calm. His gaze grew composed.

“I agree with your uncles. You need to cool off. You’ll stay here. You are not to go anywhere."

Ji Mingshu struggled to sit up on the bed, but before she could stand, Cen Sen walked out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut with a ‘bang’ and locking it from the outside.

She stared for three seconds, then ran to the door barefoot and tried the knob.

It was really locked.

Cen Sen had locked her in this bedroom?!

Standing at the door, Ji Mingshu felt her brain was about to explode. Her thoughts couldn’t keep up with the development of events.

Why wouldn’t Cen Sen let her leave?

Did he think her leaving like this would unfairly saddle Li Wenyin with the homewrecker label? Or was he waiting for a formal inquiry so the Ji family could first settle accounts for all the money she’d spent over the years?

This was utterly absurd. In the 21st century, someone actually locks his wife in a room after an argument? Was this imprisonment?

—-

After leaving the room, Cen Sen stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, motionless. He closed his eyes, replaying the series of actions he’d just taken, and couldn't seem to find any logic in them.

The only thing clear in his heart was that he could not let Ji Mingshu leave.

It seemed all loss of control had started the moment Ji Mingshu uttered the word ‘divorce’. From Xingcheng, to the flight, to the silent journey home.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and called Zhou Jiaheng. “Regarding Li Wenyin’s movie, Junyi will withdraw its investment without cause. Also, find Li Wenyin’s contact information for me and send it over.”

Ten minutes later, he dialed the string of unfamiliar numbers Zhou Jiaheng sent.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice, gentle and cultured.

“This is Cen Sen.”

The line was quiet for two seconds before the gentle voice spoke again. "Oh, what can I do for you? Did Mingshu... say something to you?"

He went straight to the point. "Miss Li, we dated for three months, and that period ended nearly a decade ago. I don't believe there's anything between us worth commemorating with a film."

Li Wenyin was taken aback, then gave a light laugh. “Movies need promotional angles these days. Audiences won’t buy tickets for a film without a story. You can rest assured, I won’t reveal your identity. And I have no intention of damaging the relationship between you and Mingshu… if any exists.”

Cen Sen’s voice was cold. “I’m not interested in that. I’m only calling to inform you: you may proceed with your film. But my wife and I do not appreciate being used by anyone, in any form, for commercial gain. Therefore, I cannot guarantee Miss Li’s film will have a smooth release.”

Having said that, he hung up directly.

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