My Queen, My Rules - 53

Reconcile

---

The capital grew colder by the day. On the morning of Zero Degree’s “De-Stress Day” appreciation salon, Gu Kaiyang was up and out of bed by five a.m.

She washed up and did her makeup as quietly as possible, but she still managed to wake Ji Mingshu.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Ji Mingshu sat up in bed, pulling her soft duvet tighter around herself. She watched Gu Kaiyang leave with a wistful, envious gaze.

Was Ji Mingshu genuinely uninterested in parties and salons?

No, absolutely not! A party animal never tired of social events!

She just didn’t want to be laughed at.

In the dim early-morning light, Ji Mingshu couldn’t help but reminisce about the glorious, unchallenged reign she’d once held as the capital’s top socialite across every notable social scene.

After indulging in exactly thirty seconds of self-pity, she burrowed back under the covers, conjured up a few weak reasons for why staying in was better, and fell asleep again.

At nine o’clock, there was a faint beep from the door lock. Someone pushed it open and stepped inside.

Ji Mingshu didn’t stir. She rolled over unconsciously, her pale lips smacking lightly as if dreaming of being surrounded by perfect braised pork ribs.

The apartment’s living room was compact. In just a few strides, the visitor reached its center. He glanced up at the second floor and, through the gaps in the wooden railing, caught a glimpse of Ji Mingshu’s sleeping face.

His footsteps were quiet as he ascended the wooden stairs.

Ji Mingshu was sound asleep, but not entirely without a sense of danger. The moment the visitor sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to brush a stray hair from her forehead—

Like the victim in a horror movie who always jolts awake the instant the killer raises the knife, her eyes flew open.

What filled her vision was a cold, handsome face she hadn’t seen in days, yet had thought of constantly.

Ji Mingshu stared for three full seconds, rubbed her eyes, mumbled some incoherent dream-words, and rolled over to face the other way.

About half a minute later, she suddenly rolled back. Her eyes, now wide open, fixed on the visitor. She even reached out with a finger to poke his Adam’s apple.

Cen Sen.

In the flesh.

“What are you doing here?”

She was still lying flat. Freshly woken, her voice was soft and slightly hoarse.

Cen Sen’s gaze lowered, taking in her exposed forearm. Remembering the string of bikini photos she’d sent over the last four or five days, his eyes darkened. “Zero Degree has an event today. I’m here to take you.”

Ji Mingshu wasn’t fully processing yet. She responded with a dazed “Oh” and pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, trying to sit up.

Cen Sen promptly reached out and helped prop the pillow up behind her.

She scooted back, leaning against the headboard, her eyes unfocused as she looked at Cen Sen. She was completely out of it.

Cen Sen had initially thought to smooth her hair, but he had no idea how she’d slept. Her hair was a wild, messy cloud around her head. Paired with her dazed expression, she looked like a perfect little madwoman.

Oblivious, once she came to her senses she became image-conscious. She motioned for Cen Sen to move back. “I haven’t brushed my teeth. Don’t get so close.”

“…”

Cen Sen stood up as asked, but his eyes remained on her.

Truthfully, he’d always thought Ji Mingshu looked better without makeup. Her features were clean, her skin smooth and fair. Without cosmetics, she had a fresh, simple quality, even a touch of rare, youthful innocence.

But Ji Mingshu, seeing him stare, thought she might have disgracefully drooled in her sleep and instinctively touched the corner of her mouth.

Cen Sen paused, finally glancing away to check the time. “Are you getting up now? The stylist is already downstairs.”

Stylist?

Ji Mingshu’s brain finished rebooting and finally connected with the signal Cen Sen had sent earlier—he was here to take her to the Zero Degree “De-Stress Day” salon.

Well, live long enough and you’ll see everything.

Cen Sen was the cold, pragmatic type who despised useless socializing. As far as she could remember, he’d only attended a few events with her right after they got married, and those were all elite, high-stakes gatherings swarming with politicians, business tycoons, and society figures—the kind where bringing your legitimate wife was a required part of the performance. They were stiff, rule-heavy, and intensely purposeful.

The Zero Degree salon was clearly for leisure and fun. Without even thinking, she knew the attendees would be bored socialites, celebrities there for photo ops and paid appearances, and influencers looking to borrow some glamour.

So what was he doing there? Wouldn’t a proper CEO who dealt in hundreds of millions feel utterly out of place in such a young, trendy setting?

Seeing her silent, Cen Sen asked again, “Or do you need more sleep?”

Ji Mingshu shook her head, mentally shoving aside all those tangential thoughts.

Why should she care if Cen Sen attended the salon? Right now, she was supposed to be in a one-sided cold war with him! Her attitude shouldn’t be this friendly and amiable!

Her expression shifted instantly. Clutching her duvet, she shot him a cold glare. “You still haven’t answered me. What are you doing here? Did Gu Kaiyang give you the key card? Did you two scheme this together? How shameless!”

He hadn’t shown his face for over half a month, just sent a few perfunctory WeChat updates. Now, with the New Year approaching and him having some free time, he conspired with her best friend to come butter her up. Who knew if it was just to sweet-talk her into dealing with his family during the holidays? And he had the nerve to act like nothing was wrong first thing in the morning, as if everyone had amnesia and would play along? He was flying blind!

And that traitorous, plastic friend Gu Kaiyang… fine, she’d deal with her later.

But just as she’d mustered all her imposing aura for battle, Cen Sen sat back down on the edge of the bed. He tilted his head slightly, looking at her, and suddenly said, “I’m sorry, Mingshu.”

The air went still.

“There are many things where I didn’t consider your feelings. The show, the movie, and the hurtful things I said when we argued.”

“I can’t promise I’ll change my ways overnight. But I can promise you that from now on, when handling matters related to you, your feelings will be my priority.”

He spoke calmly, seriously.

Ji Mingshu was stunned.

She’d known Cen Sen for nearly twenty years. This was the first time she’d heard anything resembling a sincere apology from him.

It was too sudden. She didn’t know how to respond. She could only grip the duvet tighter, staring unblinkingly at him.

Cen Sen reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead again. As he did, he leaned in. The distance between them closed in an instant, so close she could feel his breath.

A blush crept up from behind Ji Mingshu’s ears. Her heart began to beat at a traitorously fast rhythm.

Cen Sen studied her up close, then suddenly pressed a kiss to her lips.

It was a light, chaste kiss, devoid of desire, touched with a rare tenderness. Even his voice seemed to grow lower, softer. “Mingshu, come home with me.”

Waaah! Who could resist this?!

Sweet bubbles were already effervescing wildly in Ji Mingshu’s heart. The little canary sitting obediently amidst them was nodding so hard its beak was a blur.

But her subconscious kept screaming at her: Steady! Don’t crumble! The future balance of power in this marriage depends on this moment!!!

“I told you I haven’t brushed my teeth!” She made a show of wiping her mouth, her eyelashes lowered, and muttered under her breath, “If… if you’d had this realization earlier, it’s not like I’m an unreasonable person.”

Cen Sen responded with a patient “Mm-hmm.”

Her heart was hammering so hard she was about to tear a hole in the duvet where she clutched it, but she couldn’t make herself let go.

“Then… since you’ve apologized and promised so sincerely, it’s not like I can’t go back. But you said it yourself. You have to be good to me from now on. If you’re not good to me or make me lose face, I’ll really…” The word “divorce” stuck in her throat; she didn’t want to say it. “…Just you wait and see.”

Cen Sen gave another “Mm-hmm,” then continued. “During the half month you were away, I had them renovate the walk-in closet at Mingshui. I added a staircase and an elevator from the original closet to the third floor. The four guest rooms on the left upstairs have been converted into your new closet space. The housekeeper has reorganized everything by brand and season. The brands you like also came to the house and filled it with the new season’s collection in your size.”

“I also had Zhou Jiaheng contact the haute couture ateliers. But several said the effect would be better if you came for fittings in person.”

“…”

Ji Mingshu was speechless.

Cen Sen thought for a moment, then remembered something else. “I remember you once said the yacht at home was a bit small. I’ve ordered an Azimut 60 for you. I wanted the 100-foot model, but docking it can be troublesome. This one should be sufficient for your summer parties out at sea.”

“…”

Had he been suddenly enlightened by Buddha?

Ji Mingshu was trapped in the shock of the dog man actually taking initiative to spoil her, unable to process it all.

Right then, Cen Sen’s phone vibrated.

A message from Zhou Jiaheng.

Zhou Jiaheng and the stylist were sitting in the car downstairs, waiting. Without instructions, they didn’t dare come up, and they didn’t dare call for fear of interrupting the boss’s… business.

But if they didn’t start on hair and makeup soon, they’d be late for the Zero Degree event. With the stylist nagging beside him, Zhou Jiaheng had no choice but to send a cautious text of inquiry.

Cen Sen replied with “Come up.” Then, without waiting for Ji Mingshu’s response, he opened the duvet, scooped her up in his arms, and headed straight for the stairs.

Without thinking, Ji Mingshu wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder as she slowly came back to herself.

He carried his usual, faint scent of fir. She took a few deep breaths, feeling like she might die from happiness.

But she didn’t dare let herself smile. She couldn’t expose her true feelings in front of Cen Sen. If he knew she liked him, he probably wouldn’t go to such lengths for her anymore.

Thinking this, she searched for something to say, quietly reinforcing her strong, independent persona in his ear. “Don’t think you can buy me off with a few clothes and a yacht. I can earn my own money now. You’re not allowed to look down on me anymore.”

“Mm.”

Perhaps feeling that his monotonous “Mm”s might seem perfunctory to Ji Mingshu, Cen Sen paused for a moment, then added in a low voice by her ear, “Spending money on Madam Cen is my privilege.”

Madam Cen.

Ji Mingshu couldn’t help it. Hidden behind his back, she let a smile finally curl her lips.

---

← Previous | Table of Contents | Next →

0