My Queen, My Rules - 43

Us

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Jiang Che stood two steps away, slightly taken aback by this sudden outburst of violence.

Cen Sen had always been quiet and composed since childhood, possessing a certain aloofness that set him apart from his peers. He had never deigned to argue or fight with people he deemed unworthy.

If someone truly offended him, he would retaliate with more direct methods, pinpointing their weaknesses and striking back with surgical precision, leaving no visible bloodshed.

The last time Jiang Che had seen him get physical… He searched his memory, growing even more surprised. This was, in fact, the first time he had ever seen Cen Sen throw a punch.

Inside the pub, the heavy metal music was still deafening, the bass throbbing. Multicolored lights continued their hazy, shifting dance. In the dimness, surreal beams of light crisscrossed, with desire lurking and seething within.

The air around the booth was thick with the smell of nicotine and alcohol, yet it couldn't quite mask the faint, coppery scent of blood.

Cen Sen had grabbed the man by his collar, hauling him up from the seat, then closed a stranglehold around his neck. His knuckles were ice-cold, tendons faintly visible on the back of his hand.

Blood still streamed from a gash on the man's temple, tracing a path down his brow. His lips, rapidly discoloring from lack of oxygen and fear, looked eerily pale against the sticky, dark red.

Cen Sen showed no intention of letting go. His gaze was cold as glacial ice, low and utterly devoid of warmth. The bloody spectacle before him seemed to register as nothing.

The few girls who had just been gossiping about Ji Mingshu with the man were terrified, limbs gone weak. After their initial screams subsided, they scrambled to find help.

But almost immediately, Cen Sen's personal bodyguards swarmed in. Dressed in black suits, they were brawny and imposing, their expressions mirroring their employer's—completely detached.

They formed a perimeter around the booth, standing guard for Cen Sen, as if a murder happening inside was of no consequence. Their stance made it clear: no one was allowed to intervene.

Truth be told, Cen Sen rarely appeared in public these past two years. Most of the spoiled rich kids frequenting nightclubs would have a hard time connecting him to the "Crown Prince of Junyi." But with Jiang Che present today, even an idiot could figure out his identity.

Some who had initially thought of intervening now shelved the idea and wisely stepped back. After all, no one wanted to offend the future head of the Cen family for some insignificant nobody.

Others might stay out of it, but Zhang Lin, the owner of this nightclub, could not.

Upon hearing that the heir of the Cen family and the scion of the Jiang family had graced his establishment—only to immediately start beating someone to death—Zhang Lin felt his scalp prickle. He inwardly cursed his wretched luck.

What fresh hell was this?!

On opening night, his wife had caused a scene! And he'd only dared to smile through it.

Now, these reclusive young masters, who never showed their faces, had descended upon his humble venue and seemed hell-bent on committing murder. How many aimless rich kids in the capital owned nightclubs? Why was he the one with all the bad luck?!

"Brother Sen! Brother Sen!" Seeing the guy being choked nearly to death, his heart almost stopped along with the victim's. "I had no idea you were here! I just heard! My fault, all my fault!"

Jiang Che lazily raised a hand to stop him. "Don't panic. He knows his limits."

How could he not panic?!

If a death occurred in his club, his old man would have his hands and feet chopped off and lock him up for good measure!

Zhang Lin couldn't get past the bodyguards. He felt like his internal organs were being fried on a hot griddle, burning with anxiety. All he could do was shakily offer Jiang Che a cigarette, hoping to glean some details from this young master.

But Jiang Che disliked dealing with people like him. He gave Zhang Lin a sidelong glance, mocking, "With nerves like yours, why even run a nightclub?"

Zhang Lin was about to say more when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Cen Sen release his grip and drop the man to the floor. A wave of relief washed over him, cold sweat had already soaked through the back of his t-shirt, darkening the fabric.

Cen Sen stood motionless. No one knew that, for a fleeting moment, he truly hadn't cared about the "limits" Jiang Che spoke of.

Hearing the commotion, Shu Yang emerged from a private room upstairs, leaning on the railing to peer down.

Just then, a rotating light swept across Cen Sen's sharply defined profile. The bloodstains on the collar of his white shirt were a shocking sight.

"Holy shit, what happened to Brother Sen?" he gaped.

Li Wenyin also approached slowly, resting her hands lightly on the railing, her gaze fixed on the man downstairs who was now meticulously wiping his hands.

Shu Yang remembered something and was about to warn Li Wenyin, but after watching for a moment, she suddenly turned and walked away without a word. He called after her twice, but she had already stepped into the elevator.

Downstairs, Zhang Lin was directing his staff to clear the area and had the half-dead guy dragged to the side to wait for an ambulance.

The music had stopped, but the lights continued their hypnotic nightclub glow.

Li Wenyin went downstairs and stood outside the ring of bodyguards. "Cen Sen!" she called out suddenly.

Cen Sen didn't respond or turn around.

"Can I talk to you alone?" she continued.

Jiang Che, wanting no part of this, was ready to leave. But Cen Sen shot him a look, signaling for him to stay. He then sat down directly next to the still-uncleaned pool of blood and said coldly. "Whatever you have to say, say it here."

The bodyguards shifted slightly, allowing Li Wenyin to enter the booth.

She didn't sit. Standing before Cen Sen, her voice was gentle and light. "I heard Mingshu is threatening divorce over the film issue? That night you called me, I hadn't realized things had gotten this serious. I'm sorry."

She lowered her eyes slightly.

Cen Sen said nothing and didn't look at her.

Jiang Che, meanwhile, was texting his girlfriend, having zero interest in these feminine theatrics.

Maintaining her downcast gaze, Li Wenyin went on, "Back then, I thought it was possible to recommend project without avoiding past connections. I didn't expect to implicate you. Junyi withdrawing its investment was the right call. I truly am sorry."

"But as for the film… I believe I have the right to continue filming it." She suddenly lifted her head, meeting Cen Sen's eyes directly, her gaze frank and clear. "This has nothing to do with you. In essence, whether I film it or not, and what I film, are my own affairs. I hope that even if we can't be lovers or friends, we at least don't become enemies."

"I know your character. You'd never harbor thoughts of deliberately obstructing my film's release. Mingshu and I have our issues, but that's between her and me. We'll resolve it ourselves. A-Sen, you shouldn't interfere between—"

"Ji Mingshu is my wife."

Before Li Wenyin could finish, Cen Sen cut her off bluntly.

He unbuttoned the blood-stained collar of his shirt for air, then looked up at Li Wenyin with no discernible emotion.

"Miss Li, I thought I made myself perfectly clear during our last phone call. No one is stopping you from making your film or doing your own thing. But what I choose to do is also my own affair."

"And also, you and I are just that: you and I. Ji Mingshu and I are 'us’. Do you understand?"

Hearing this, Jiang Che didn't even glance up. He texted his girlfriend, Zhou You, who was pretending to be casual but was actually probing about a certain company rumor: "She and I are just she and I. You and I are us. Got it?"

After a moment of silence, she sent back a sticker of a little girl nodding.

Jiang Che breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that meant she was satisfied.

But Li Wenyin couldn't breathe easy.

Her mind even seemed to blank out for a second. Everything up until now, including Ji Mingshu's impulsive divorce threat, had been within her expectations. How could…?

She didn't understand which part had gone wrong, and she refused to consider the possibility that Cen Sen might actually like Ji Mingshu…

But before she could collect her thoughts, Cen Sen had already stood up and took his leave, unwilling to waste another word on her.

Shu Yang happened to be rushing down from upstairs. Seeing Cen Sen exit the booth, he moved to speak to him.

But Cen Sen suddenly looked at him and said coldly, "This is the last time."

Shu Yang's face was a picture of utter confusion. What now? What last time? What does that mean? He grabbed Jiang Che, who was coming out behind him. "What was that? 'Last time'? What's he on about?"

Jiang Che replied, "It means if there's a next time, you're no longer a friend."

Shu Yang paused for a second before it clicked. "No way. He doesn't think I invited Li Wenyin, does he? Fuck me, that's so unfair!"

He was completely baffled. "Didn't I invite you two here today to make amends for my big mouth last time? I was just in the private room singing with some girls, and then she showed up with that sickly guy from the Yuan family to say hi. It's not like I could kick them out!"

"I was caught off guard too! And I didn't even get a chance to say anything before you guys had your scene downstairs. Then she scurried off down here… Hey, what trouble did she stir up down here anyway? Damn it, I've really been screwed over by her!"

Jiang Che didn't even lift an eyelid. "Telling me is useless."

Naturally, he needed to explain himself to Cen Sen. But Cen Sen clearly had no time for Shu Yang at the moment.

He left the pub, still wearing his bloodied shirt. Sitting in the back seat of the car, he directly gave the driver a destination. "Xinggang International.”

Leaning back, he propped his head up with one hand. Whether it was the alcohol or the blood, an indescribable restlessness was stirring deep within him.

The black sedan sped through the sparse night breeze all the way to Xinggang International.

Pulling over on the opposite side of the road, Cen Sen got out. He asked the driver for a cigarette, slid one hand into his pocket, and leaned against the car door. He stared at a certain dark window. The restless agitation churning inside him seemed to slowly settle under the cold breath of the autumn night.

A dreamless night passed.

 

Early the next morning, Ji Mingshu got up with Gu Kaiyang.

Whether Ji Mingshu was truly determined or it was just a flash in the pan was unclear, but first thing in the morning, over congee, she was already discussing with Gu Kaiyang: what could she possibly do to support herself.

Gu Kaiyang opened her tablet to browse the latest fashion news and said offhandedly, "It's simple, really. The key is you need to spend less. With the way you spend, let's be honest, aside from the Ji family and Cen Sen indulging you, hardly anyone could afford to keep you."

"I just can't help it, okay?" Ji Mingshu finished half a bowl of congee, dabbed her lips elegantly with a napkin, and clasped her hands primly. "Be serious. What do you think I should do? My money is about to run out."

Gu Kaiyang thought for a moment. "A personal shopper? You, Miss Ji, have privileged access to all the luxury stores to buy bags and limited edition items for people. You could make a tidy profit just from the markup. Easy."

"Are you out of your mind? Most people who can afford that stuff are from my circle. Do you want me to be laughed to death? Gu Kaiyang, you're so vicious!”

Gu Kaiyang raised a hand to stop her. "Then what do you think you can do that doesn't involve your old circle? Be an influencer? Debut as a celebrity???"

 

Ji Mingshu shook her head like a rattle-drum.

She was far too sensitive to withstand negative comments from netizens.

And while their circle wasn't as dismissive of celebrities and influencers as in the old days, Miss Ji herself was stuck in her "socialite" persona and had no desire to make a living off her face in the public eye.

Gu Kaiyang tried again, "Even if you want to do the interior design you love, it's impossible to avoid your old circle. You only do creative spatial design. Where's the client base for that? If you distance yourself from your old circle, where are you going to find high-end clients?"

"Think about it. Would a stranger just hand over their mansion to you, a designer with barely a portfolio? So no matter what you do, the first hurdle is getting over this mental block about having contact with your old circle. Understand?"

Ji Mingshu propped her chin on her hand, still pondering, when her phone suddenly dinged.

The Little Earth Goose intelligence agent had transmitted the circle's latest hot gossip first thing in the morning.

Jiang Chun: [OMG! Your husband beat someone up at Zhang Lin's place last night!!!] 

Jiang Chun: [So many people were there! Jiang Che, Shu Yang, Zhang Lin… and that little white lotus rival of yours!] 

Ji Mingshu froze.

Cen Sen beat someone up?

And Li Wenyin was there?

Did he do it for Li Wenyin…

Before she could follow that thought, the firsthand intel kept coming.

Jiang Chun: [The guy who got beat up was that little fatty Mo Zhengwei. You probably don't even know him. Word is he was bad-mouthing you and your husband overheard him! Then your husband smashed a bottle over his head! Almost killed the guy! It's blowing up. I heard the fatty is still at Third Hospital getting checked out!] 

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Author's Note: 

Guess Cen-shi Sensen might just live to see another day today.

Jiang Che: No, I'm today’s MVP.

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