My Queen, My Rules - 5

Fairy

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"Why do you keep messing with her? She's way more interesting than those plastic flowers of yours."

After Jiang Chun left, Gu Kaiyang toyed with her straw and gave Ji Mingshu a sideways look.

Ji Mingshu said idly."That's exactly why. Don't you think she's like a penguin? So cute."

Gu Kaiyang paused, unsure where to even begin rolling her eyes.

Having teased Jiang Chun and enjoyed a full-body spa, Ji Mingshu was in much better spirits than she'd been during the hot spring.

Contrary to the blatant affection she’d flaunted at Jiang Chun, Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen actually had very little contact. Whether in the country or abroad neither made much effort to contact the other. As for ‘keeping company at night’… even meetings at home depended on sheer luck.

Cen Sen's offense first thing in the morning had made Ji Mingshu want to avoid even that bit of luck entirely.

She spent the entire weekend away from Mingshui Manor, enjoying freedom at her downtown apartment, tinkering with her design drafts, making some refinements.

She had to admit, Cen Sen's jab had stung her pride. Looking back at her drafts and the photos from the Zero Degree gala, she felt a sudden wave of relief that interior designers are usually never named in such settings. 

Cen Sen, for his part, hadn't returned to Mingshui Manor either. Fresh off his return, social obligations came thick and fast. Besides, the corporate drama had just begun. The lead actor couldn't exactly leave early.

Monday arrived. Hot on the heels of Cen Sen's appointment notice, Junyi employees received another bombshell.

The company intranet, without warning, published dozens of personnel change notices for senior management. Among them was Huang Peng, the current General Manager, the very man who, on Cen Sen's first day back, had sent his secretary to deliver a veiled threat.

And these so-called ‘personnel changes’, put simply, were termination.

Outside the President's Office on the sixty-eighth floor, a row of black-suited bodyguards stood at attention since early morning.

Today at Junyi was a spectacle.

Several senior executives, faces purple with rage, stormed up to the President's Office demanding an explanation. Each was, in the end, unceremoniously dragged out and deposited into the elevator by the guards.

Some of them, stripped of their usual lofty dignity, went completely unhinged. After being ejected, they rode the elevator, floor by floor, screaming curses within earshot of all the employees. Their tantrums a sorry sight.

Humans are strange creatures, apparently incapable of learning lessons that don't personally cost them. If any of the southern Cen branch's parasites who'd infested the company years ago were still around, they'd find today's scene familiar. Compared to last time, Cen Sen was being gentle. Back then, he'd had the guards throw people directly out of the building.

The last to grace the President's Office with his presence was Huang Peng.

The name "Huang Peng" sounded robust and rough, but the man himself was thin, with mild features and impeccable style.

Nearing sixty, he was remarkably well-preserved, looking like an attractive man in his early forties in his prime, fitting the description "elegant, cultured, and refined" perfectly.

Then again, if not for his meticulous grooming and penchant for discussing life and philosophy before getting into bed, a girl in her twenties wouldn’t have chosen him over his son like a plot out of a gold-digger novel.

"Uncle Huang. Please, sit."

Cen Sen's invitation was polite, even gracious. But Huang Peng couldn't muster his usual air of calm composure.

He stood ramrod straight, his voice strained with a coldness he couldn't quite suppress. "I wouldn't dare. I’m afraid I can’t claim such a familial bond with President Cen.”

"What are you saying, Uncle Huang?" Cen Sen leaned back slightly in his chair, getting straight to the point. "If it weren't for you, why would I bother with Xiao Feng? The way he's carrying on now, he's lost all sense of proportion. If you ask me, a hard lesson would do him good."

Some plans had been in motion for too long. There was no point in circling any longer.

At these words, Huang Peng's pupils contracted sharply.

Huang Zifeng was Huang Peng's only son. A good-for-nothing since childhood. He excelled at every vice and none of the virtues. At eighteen, he'd even tried to steal his father's woman, a family scandal he'd paraded for all to see.

Unfortunately for him, the young woman in question preferred the mature, stable type. She'd rejected Huang Zifeng like dirt and was determined to stay with Huang Peng.

That incident had poisoned the already tense father-son relationship. In recent years, Huang Zifeng’s escapades had grown increasingly wild. Calling him a degenerate steeped in every conceivable vice wouldn't be an exaggeration.

"What have you done to Xiao Feng?"

Huang Peng's voice dropped. The tension in it was unmistakable.

He'd always been harsh with his useless son, quick with a scolding or a beating. But he was, after all, the sole heir to the Huang legacy. If not for Huang Peng’s public discipline and private indulgence, Huang Zifeng wouldn’t have been spoiled into the complete wastrel he was today. 

Cen Sen clasped his hands together, his voice slow and measured. "I happened to be in Xingcheng a few days ago and ran into Xiao Feng. He and his friends got a little too carried away and ended up in police custody. I've already put in a word with the bureau. No need to worry, Uncle Huang."

With everything going on, fending off the power play from the Cen father and son, Huang Peng hadn't had time to track where Huang Zifeng was whiling away his days. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard from the boy in about a week.

Huang Peng knew exactly what his own seed was like. Last year, Huang Zifeng had been caught in a hotel room with three other men and three women, all of them high out of their minds. It had taken considerable effort to get him out of that mess. Being held this long without a word meant Cen Sen had come prepared.

The silence stretched, heavy.

Huang Peng's rigid expression softened slightly. His attitude shifted, noticeably more conciliatory. He offered his thanks, then began dredging up old memories.

"Come to think of it, you and Xiao Feng grew up like brothers. When he was in high school, 'Brother Sen' was always on his lips. How the years fly. Unlike you… he's such a disappointment.”

He shook his head, as if to himself.

Cen Sen's expression remained flat, as if he hadn't heard a word. He opened a document beside him, uncapped a fountain pen, and slid both forward.

"Retirement is a good thing, Uncle Huang. You'll have more time to keep an eye on Xiao Feng now."

He wore only a tailored dark shirt today. As he adjusted his collar, the silver square cufflinks at his wrists caught the light. They matched the new black, white, and gray metal accents in the office, emphasizing the chill that seemed to emanate from him.

The outcome of this fight had long been decided.

Seeing that Cen Sen was immune to appeals to sentiment, the conciliation froze on Huang Peng's face. It stiffened, slowly, then retreated entirely.

After a long silence, Huang Peng finally stepped forward.

He stared directly at Cen Sen, picked up the pen, refused to bend, and signed at the end of the document without even looking at it.

Cen Sen didn't avoid his gaze either. Once Zhou Jiaheng verified the signature, he said indifferently, "Rest assured, Uncle Huang. I’ve booked a table for Xiaofeng at Lanlou. A welcome-home dinner. If you head over now, the timing should be perfect. I have much to attend here, I'm afraid I can't join."

A vein pulsed faintly in Huang Peng's forehead. The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then, without another word, he left the office.

He had not bowed, not once, from start to finish. But as he walked out, his back seemed less straight than when he'd entered.

Once the man was gone, Zhou Jiaheng stepped forward as if nothing had happened. "President Cen, Jinsheng has agreed to transfer the North Xingcheng plot. Chairman Lu also knocked five percent off the price. I've prepared a gift and sent someone over to Jinsheng. Legal is finalizing the contract, we expect to sign this week."

Cen Sen nodded.

"Here's the adjusted schedule for the week. Please take a look." Zhou Jiaheng handed him a tablet. "Also, Nanqiao Hutong called, asking that you and madam join them for dinner tonight."

Cen Sen looked at the tablet. He nodded again.

Then, something occurred to him, he asked, "Is my wife home?"

Zhou Jiaheng kept his eyes lowered, his expression perfectly neutral. "She's at Bocui Tianhua."

Bocui Tianhua was the capital's most famous hotel-style serviced apartment complex. In a city where land worth its weight in gold, high property prices were nothing new. What made Bocui Tianhua a household name was its carefully cultivated philosophy of "tribal culture."

From its initial launch, rumors circulated about their stringent vetting process for buyers, that they'd rejected multiple celebrities. Whether that was true or just a marketing ploy was impossible to verify now. But today, they had successfully established itself as a gathering place for blockchain's elite.

Ji Mingshu's apartment there was a wedding gift from her uncle, Ji Rusong. It occupied the entire top floor.

One side boasted a nearly 20-meter-long curved panoramic floor-to-ceiling window. The other opened onto a vast, sky-pavilion terrace, offering an unobstructed view of the capital’s southern landscape.

Ji Mingshu had filled the terrace with plants and small trees. She was, herself, a hothouse flower who barely knew how to take care of herself. But the greenery she tended had grown into a wild, vibrant, almost fantastical garden. Bold and alive.

When Cen Sen arrived downstairs, Ji Mingshu had just finished perfecting the draft to her satisfaction.

She held it up, admiring it from every angle. She was this close to calling Gu Kaiyang and demanding they redo the entire gala, immediately, so she could force Cen Sen to open his dog eyes and see her true, earth-shattering, transcendent brilliance level of talent.

After her hundred and eightieth satisfied perusal, she finally got up, stretched, and picked her way through the mess on the floor to run a bath.

Living alone had its freedoms. She'd deliberately placed the bathtub in the sunroom.

When the water was ready, she put on some music, closed the curtains facing the window, and sank into the warm water.

Downstairs, Cen Sen called Ji Mingshu twice. The calls went through, but no one answered.

Upstairs, he patiently rang the doorbell for a full minute. Hearing no response, he used his keycard to let himself in.

The apartment's soundproofing was, unfortunately, excellent. Outside, all was quiet. When he opened the door, he was hit with a deafening blast of heavy metal.

For a moment, standing in the doorway, Cen Sen thought the young lady had gotten bored in broad daylight and invited a bunch of low-IQ creatures over for a party.

Taking in the messy but empty living room, he then heard, mixed in with the music, a female rapper's unhinged, passionate performance:

"Hey boy, look at me!"

"…"

Cen Sen followed the sound.

There was Ji Mingshu, in a bathtub full of bubbles, one hand holding a megaphone, the other raised high, occasionally pumping the air in a "yo yo" gesture.

"Ji Mingshu is a fairy!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"A fairy who topples cities and nations!”

Not a single line was on beat, but she was excellent at hyping herself up, following each line with a vivid impression of an audience cheering her on.

Cen Sen was subjected to thirty seconds of this.

Just as he thought this mortifying bout of fervent rap had reached its cringe-inducing peak, Rapper Ji used her creative prowess to inform him that it was only the beginning.

"Ji Mingshu is a fairy!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"A fairy who brings men to their knees!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"A fairy you'll never sleep with!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

“Your ultimate crush! Crush! Skr~!”

The final "skr" was accompanied by a finger gun, aimed and fired. The air, however, plunged into dead silence in that very second.

Through the glass of the sunroom, Ji Mingshu could see the words clearly written on Cen Sen's cold, expressionless face:

Oh. But I did sleep with you.

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