My Queen, My Rules - 40

Locked

---

The weather forecast updated in real time. Tomorrow, the capital would see rain, with temperatures plummeting to 8-10°C. Citizens were advised to dress warmly and travel safely.

The temperature would only plunge tomorrow, but signs were already stirring in the night.

Ripples spread across the surface of Mingshui Lake. Outside, fallen leaves were swept up by the deep autumn night wind, bathed in the warm, all-night glow of the streetlights, creating a hazy, desolate beauty.

Cen Sen didn’t return to the bedroom all night, nor did he rest in a guest room.

After making that phone call, he simply leaned back on the living room sofa, eyes closed in feigned sleep.

The four-panel window to the south was half-open. The sparse night breeze drifted in, the rustle of leaves whispering at his ears. If he listened carefully, he could even hear the low hum of insects.

From start to finish, it was quiet upstairs.

After he locked that door, Ji Mingshu didn’t cry out in despair, scream in anger, or kick and pound at the door in futile struggle.

She was too tired.

After crying, her head felt heavy, as if weighed down by a dense paste that sloshed and throbbed dully with every movement.

The sensation of being fiercely kissed lingered on her lips, neck, and cheeks, as if the warmth from Cen Sen’s mouth still remained.

She curled up at the foot of the bed, hugging a pillow to her face.

Actually, she had originally wanted to take a moment to calm down, to ease the discomfort from the emotional rollercoaster. Unexpectedly, hugging the pillow, she unconsciously fell asleep.

As you think by day, so you dream by night.

All night long, she dreamed of Li Wenyin.

Li Wenyin’s father was the Ji family’s chauffeur. He, along with Ji Mingshu’s parents, had died in the car accident that occurred while they were out “showing off their affection.”

After his death, the Ji family, pitying the widow and orphan he left behind, offered a generous compensation.

But Li Wenyin’s mother refused. She stated plainly that her husband’s death was an accident during work. The Ji family hadn’t wronged him, and she and her daughter had no reason to accept such a huge sum. If they felt guilty out of human sentiment, she would prefer the Ji family provide her with a job, so she could earn a living through her own labor.

Since she put it that way, the Ji family agreed.

So later, this formidable woman naturally moved into the Ji residence with Li Wenyin, becoming Old Madam Ji’s dedicated live-in housekeeper. She even used the Ji family as a stepping stone to find a new partner far superior to her late husband.

Ji Mingshu remembered when the mother and daughter first arrived at the Ji home. Everyone in the household went out of their way to accommodate them. Mr. Li had worked for the Ji family for many years; if not for merit, then for labor. The man was gone, but the goodwill remained. When Li Wenyin reached school age, Old Madam Ji even gave the order for her to attend the affiliated school with the other children from the compound.

Whether the Ji family's help was sincere or to avoid a reputation for being ungrateful, Li Wenyin’s life had undeniably undergone a qualitative change because of them.

Once, when they were children and got into an argument, Ji Mingshu, provoked beyond measure, pointed at Li Wenyin and angrily shouted, “You’re just a housekeeper’s daughter! What right do you have to tell me what to do!”

Unfortunately, Old Madam Ji overheard. Ji Mingshu got a thorough scolding and a smack on the palm.

Back then, Ji Mingshu didn’t understand. Old Madam Ji punished her not because her words had hurt Li Wenyin, but because she wouldn’t tolerate a girl of the Ji family speaking so uncouthly.

She just felt so, so angry. She hadn’t started it! Li Wenyin was the one who came over to mock her first, saying she should be ashamed of still playing with dolls at her age. Yet in the end, she was the one who got scolded and punished!

Such things happened many times in her childhood, not just at home, but at school too. After swallowing enough silent grievances, Ji Mingshu grew wiser. Slowly, she stopped being so easily provoked by Li Wenyin.

Moreover, by middle and high school, people weren’t as sure as in childhood. They paid more attention to family background and social connections.

In this regard, Ji Mingshu had a natural advantage. Sometimes, without her needing to explain much, a group of people would automatically side with her.

But that didn’t mean Li Wenyin in middle and high school had no other ways of haunting her:

If Ji Mingshu and her roommate shortened their uniform skirts, Li Wenyin, who just happened to be on duty the next day, would catch them and deduct points.

Ji Mingshu hated exercise and ran at a snail’s pace; Li Wenyin could lap her and toss a disdainful sneer her way as she passed.

If Ji Mingshu told a friend that a certain senior was handsome, within a few days Li Wenyin would be laughing and chatting with that senior, going to the cafeteria together, discussing upperclassmen homework…

All these scenarios replayed in Ji Mingshu’s dreams.

The dreamscapes shifted bizarrely. In the latter half, Cen Sen appeared by Li Wenyin’s side.

It was as if she were floating, observing from a non-existent third-person perspective, watching Li Wenyin and Cen Sen the whole time. Watching them walk hand-in-hand through the night market near the school, watching Cen Sen gently ruffle Li Wenyin’s hair, a smile on his lips.

Even as a transparent, floating observer, she could feel the fine, dense ache in her own heart.

Cen Sen didn’t know what Ji Mingshu was dreaming of. He only saw her lying sideways across the bed, body curled into a tiny shrimp, brows furrowed, clutching the pillow tightly in her hands.

He didn't turn on the room's lights or make any sound. By the faint, hazy moonlight from the window, he lifted Ji Mingshu, laid her properly at the head of the bed, and gently tucked her outstretched arm under the covers.

After doing this, he sat quietly by the bedside, looking down at her sleeping face.

A desire to reach out and touch her stirred in the depths of his heart. But for some reason, his hand remained at his side, never lifting.

After sitting for a long while, he stood up again, tucked the quilt more securely around Ji Mingshu, and then silently left the room.

Three a.m. The night wind died down.

By the windowsill, the begonias were sleepless.

When she woke up the next morning, Ji Mingshu’s eyes still felt sore and swollen. Touching them, she could feel the slight puffiness of her eyelids and a faint stinging sensation.

Emotions, in truth, come and go quickly.

After last night’s crying fit, she woke feeling hollow. Remembering the scenes from her dreams, every desire felt shallow.

She sat blankly on the bed for a long time before getting up to wash up briefly in the bathroom.

Her phone on the bedside table was on silent, but since yesterday afternoon, the screen had lit up intermittently with incoming notifications.

After washing up, she picked up her phone and glanced at it.

There were far, far too many messages on WeChat. Acquaintances and strangers alike, those offering comfort, those probing for information, no one had missed the chance.

She scrolled down, not reaching the end, then scrolled back up. Seeing the messages from Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun late last night, unconditionally cursing Li Wenyin and offering advice, a warmth spread through her chest.

Gu Kaiyang didn’t know about her changing feelings toward Cen Sen. She thought Ji Mingshu was just angry and upset about being publicly humiliated by Cen Sen and Li Wenyin. She’d even made a custom sticker: [Shu-Bao, don't back down, just go for it.jpg]

 

Gu Kaiyang: “People in your circle are saying that you’re getting a divorce?! Absolutely not! How can you let that Dog Man and that little bitch off so easily! Don’t his grandparents adore you? Go cry in front of them today! They’ll definitely step in and sort him out for you, nice and tidy! Don't let yourself get sick from anger, baby!]

…

She read through them all, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. She sent a message to Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun: [I’m okay.] 

After sending it, her fingertip suddenly paused. She instinctively glanced at the head of the bed.

Wait. Last night, she’d fallen asleep directly on the bed, without covers. And she’d been curled sideways at the foot of the bed, not as properly positioned as when she woke up.

A thought occurred to her. Ji Mingshu put down her phone and walked to the bedroom door, turning the handle.

Unlike last night, when no amount of force had budged it, this time it opened with just a light twist.

The moment the door opened, she unconsciously let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Cen Sen hadn’t actually degenerated into locking her up at home.

She cautiously peeked her head out.

No one seemed to be out there?

Walking down the spiral staircase, the sound of rain pattered softly outside.

A faint fragrance of congee wafted from the direction of the kitchen island. Ji Mingshu walked over and discovered a small clay pot keeping a century egg with lean pork congee warm.

She hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty hours. Unable to resist, she picked up a small spoon and took a couple of mouthfuls.

She acted quickly. After drinking, she immediately put down the spoon and looked around. Once she confirmed no one was there, she lifted the lid and scooped more.

Although not yet full, she exercised restraint, only eating a shallow layer. She washed the spoon and put it back exactly in place. If you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t notice it had been moved.

Her phone kept buzzing with new messages. She read through them carefully. None were from Cen Sen. Not in WeChat, not in her SMS inbox.

What did he mean by this?

Had he thought it over and decided to let her go wherever?

Was this congee a farewell meal…?

Ji Mingshu sat in the living room for a while, her mind still churning over yesterday’s events.

But there was too much, pressing down on her layer by layer, full of contradictions. She couldn’t sort through the mess.

A very clear voice in her head told her: Don’t be pathetic. Don’t think about Cen Sen’s sudden kiss last night. And definitely don’t overanalyze why you ended up back at the head of the bed.

Many things were just him acting on a whim, at most tinged with some pity or sympathy. Anyone who cared, who read too much into it, could easily become a laughingstock for presuming affection where none existed.

That wasn’t a good habit to have. After all, the other person could turn around and deliver a stinging slap to your face, teaching you to wake up and behave.

Hadn’t last night’s lesson been enough?

Those words that had spilled from his lips—weren’t they exactly what he thought?

Remembering this, Ji Mingshu felt the air in the room grow tight and stifling.

Without taking anything, she suddenly stood up.

Right at that moment, Jiang Chun also woke up from her sleep.

Groping groggily for her phone, she saw Ji Mingshu’s reply saying she was okay. In one fluid motion, she scrambled out from under the covers, sat cross-legged on the bed, and started typing intently.

Jiang Chun: [Transfer: ¥200,000]

Jiang Chun: [Are you really divorcing your husband? Where are you now?] 

Jiang Chun: [Your second uncle tipped off my dad, told him not to take you in! To stop me from helping you, my dad even put limits on my cards. I’m sending you some to get by for now. Don’t be afraid! I’ll support you no matter what you do!] 

Jiang Chun: [Baby, don't be scared, I'll steal e-bikes to support you.jpg]

Ji Mingshu read the messages as she walked towards the door, feeling somewhat amused.

But just as her hand touched the door handle, she suddenly paused.

The bedroom door wasn't locked.

Was the main door locked?

---

← Previous | Table of Contents | Next →

0