My Queen, My Rules - 57
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The snow over Mingshui Lake fell through the entire night. By seven or eight the next morning, the soft patter of falling snow briefly intensified into a rapid cascade, and the island's evergreen trees bowed beneath the weight of the thick accumulation.
Outside, the sky remained a dim gray-white, though the snow reflected enough light to sting the eyes. Cen Sen used the remote to draw the curtains shut, then suddenly remembered he needed to apply medicine to the still-slumbering Ji Mingshu.
It was his first time handling such a task, and his technique was clumsy. His touch was a little too firm. Ji Mingshu frowned in her sleep and instinctively kicked him.
Tilting his head, he avoided the kick without complaint, merely tightening his hold around her ankle long enough to finish applying the ointment. Once done, he glanced at the time, unbuttoning his shirt as he stood and headed toward the bathroom.
There was less than a month until Lunar New Year. Junyi's year-end workload had entered its final stage. Most employees could finally relax, coast through the remaining days, and look forward to going home for the holidays.
Cen Sen, however, was the president of the group. Holidays were practically nonexistent for him. If he chose to keep working, he could quite literally go all three hundred and sixty-five days without a break, just as he had during those two years in Australia.
This year, though, he had done something unusual. From mid-January until the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, he instructed Zhou Jiaheng not to arrange any business trips. His schedule before the holiday was also relatively light, consisting mainly of routine work at the office and a handful of social engagements.
Water trickled steadily from the bathroom. Still half asleep, Ji Mingshu vaguely thought it was raining outside. She rolled over, only to feel an unexpected coolness where she'd been sore. She shivered. As the "rain" abruptly stopped, her scattered thoughts slowly returned.
When she finally forced her eyes open, she happened to see Cen Sen stepping out of the bathroom. He lifted his chin slightly while fastening the top button of his shirt.
Without thinking, she immediately squeezed her eyes shut again and burrowed deeper beneath the blanket, trembling.
Too terrifying. Cen Sen, that pervert, was simply too terrifying.
Ji Mingshu realized how little she had truly known about this maniac before last night!
Reserved? Frigid? Completely false.
His first time paying his "marital duties" after returning from overseas hadn't been anywhere near as merciless as last night.
She had honestly believed everything was over once they entered the bathroom.
Instead, that was where the real nightmare had begun.
Just after dawn, while she was only half awake, he'd pinned her down again like a completely helpless fish on a chopping board, leaving her feeling as though she'd died and come back to life several times over.
At this point, she had reached a state where she'd never again dare fantasize about braised pork ribs for the rest of her life.
Regret.
Nothing but regret.
As she was spiraling through those thoughts, a cool kiss landed gently on her forehead. Her whole body tensed, yet she didn't dare open her eyes.
Cen Sen didn't force her. He simply spoke softly.
"I'm heading to the office. You're not feeling well, so stay home today. Tell the housekeeper whatever you'd like for lunch. I'll cook dinner when I get back."
Keeping her eyes tightly shut, Ji Mingshu shook her head vigorously. Half her face remained hidden beneath the blanket as she mumbled, "I don't want you cooking."
"..."
Understanding dawned on him, and he nearly laughed.
"I'll manage on my own. Just go already!"
She began shooing him away, shrinking even farther under the blanket.
Without saying anything more, Cen Sen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then stood up and left.
As he quietly closed the bedroom door behind him, his gaze lingered on the little bundle curled up on the bed like a shrimp. A trace of warmth softened his eyes, though he never noticed it himself.
"Fifty-five... fifty-six... fifty-seven... fifty-eight..."
Watching the second hand move steadily across his wristwatch, Zhou Jiaheng indulged his obsessive habit of counting until exactly one minute had passed before finally stopping.
One hour and fifty-three minutes.
Mm.
The boss had left the house exactly one hour and fifty-three minutes later than usual today.
He noticed Cen Sen approaching in the distance, casually flexing the joints of one hand while loosening his shoulders and neck. Thinking of something, Zhou Jiaheng’s intuition sparked.
As Cen Sen drew closer, Zhou Jiaheng hurried out of the car, respectfully opened the rear door, shielded the roof with one hand, and greeted him. "Good morning, Boss."
"Morning."
Cen Sen belonged to the sort of leader who never wore his emotions on his face.
Still, after serving beside him for years, Zhou Jiaheng understood him better than most.
Out of three hundred and sixty-five days in a year, Cen Sen was cold and ruthlessly efficient for roughly three hundred and sixty of them.
Today, however, his entire demeanor was noticeably gentler, his posture more relaxed. It was obvious he was in an excellent mood.
Days like this were rarer than receiving an unexpected promotion and raise.
Ever perceptive, Zhou Jiaheng finished reporting work matters in the car, then gradually steered the conversation toward the company’s holiday benefits. Only after a lengthy buildup did he cautiously broach the subject of his year-end bonus that had previously been deducted.
Sure enough, Cen Sen didn't even look up before saying, "Your bonus will be paid as normal. If there's anything else, say it now."
Zhou Jiaheng scratched his head sheepishly. "I knew nothing could get past you, Boss."
Rubbing his hands together, he carefully continued, "There actually is one more thing I'd like to ask for your help with. I mentioned before that I have a nephew who's a little over six. He looks just like me. Really adorable..."
Cen Sen pinched the bridge of his nose.
Zhou Jiaheng hurried to the main point. "My brother and sister-in-law want to transfer him from Nancheng to the capital. They hope he can attend Qing Primary, but getting into that school is incredibly difficult..."
Cen Sen raised a hand to cut him off. "Connect me with Director Zhao later."
"Yes! Thank you, President Cen. Thank you so much!"
Zhou Jiaheng practically beamed.
Qing Primary wasn't an ordinary elementary school. Even with the small amount of goodwill he'd built with Director Zhao himself, he couldn't guarantee success.
But if Cen Sen personally made the call, everything would naturally fall into place.
Of course, on a normal day, Zhou Jiaheng would never have dared ask.
With projects worth tens of millions, hundreds of millions, even billions still waiting for approval, bringing up something as trivial as a child's school transfer would've seemed absurd.
And if he had brought it up, Cen Sen would probably have given him a look that said: “Have you earned enough money and now want to go home and retire?”
Certainly nothing like today.
Silently, Zhou Jiaheng thanked Ji Mingshu at least a hundred and eighty times in his heart. Wanting to repay the favor somehow, he also mentioned an upcoming private jewelry auction before the New Year, enthusiastically explaining which rare pieces would suit elders, which were appropriate for younger family members, and which would make perfect gifts for one's wife.
Leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed, Cen Sen wasn't really listening.
For some reason, all he could think about was Ji Mingshu beneath him the previous night, softly calling out in those sweet, breathless little sounds.
His throat bobbed unconsciously.
When he finally spoke, his voice had turned noticeably lower and husky. "Buy them."
Thirty minutes later, the Bentley arrived at Junyi Group headquarters, and Cen Sen immersed himself in another busy workday.
Meanwhile, Ji Mingshu drifted in and out of sleep until dusk before finally becoming fully awake.
She had never imagined that her first day back home would be spent entirely in bed.
After Ji Mingshu disappeared without a word the previous night, the ever-sharp Gu Kaiyang naturally guessed exactly what indescribable, blush-inducing things had happened between her and Cen Sen. Early that morning, she proudly claimed credit in the group chat, conveniently forgetting how she'd played dead and betrayed her friend the day before.
10:00 a.m.
Gu Kaiyang: [Ji Mingshu, sis, when are you coming to move your luggage? Are you still taking it? If not, I'll reluctantly accept all these Hermès bags.]
3:00 p.m.
Gu Kaiyang: [Sis??? Still not awake? Don’t tell me your husband wore you out so bad you can’t get out of bed???]
Jiang Chun: [???]
Jiang Chun: [I’m confused x2.jpg]
Jiang Chun: [The things Gu Kaiyang says are terrifying!]
Jiang Chun: [Mom, I want to leave this group chat!!!]
Jiang Chun: [Waaah... I don't think I'm that innocent little goose anymore!]
Gu Kaiyang grinned from ear to ear, playing the part of a mischievous big sister gleefully introducing a naïve junior to an entirely new world.
Little Earth Goose, on the other hand, had surprisingly weak resolve. Her determination to remain an innocent newbie lasted less than five minutes before Gu Kaiyang thoroughly corrupted her. Tentatively, she stretched out one tiny goose foot and began exploring this brand-new territory.
By the time Ji Mingshu finally opened the chat that evening, the conversation had long since spiraled out of control.
It had all started with Jiang Chun innocently saying, "President Cen looks pretty frigid."
From there, the discussion charged straight toward the kind of content that could get an entire group chat banned.
Between one seasoned veteran and one eager beginner, they had somehow managed to rack up more than four hundred messages discussing relationships between men and women.
Along the way, Editor Gu had produced several memorable pearls of wisdom.
"Men who flirt openly are only half genuinely seductive. The other half are no different than elementary school boys. But men who keep everything bottled up? Ninety percent of them are overflowing with desire."
"A guy like President Cen clearly made for great deeds in bed. I guarantee he's full of surprises."
"Ji Mingshu barely eats and never exercises. Her stamina's probably terrible. My professional estimate? She won't be out of bed for at least three days and three nights."
Ji Mingshu fell silent, internally grumbling: She could get out of bed right now if she wanted to, okay?! Besides, haven't you ever heard the saying? It's the ox that gets exhausted, not the field that gets worn out.
Still, Gu Kaiyang had been surprisingly accurate with those first two observations.
That pervert really was dangerously seductive.
She and Cen Sen had been married for quite a while now. In the past, she'd never been particularly shy during their intimate moments. The lights were always off, everything followed the same familiar routine, and afterward they'd simply wash up and go to sleep.
But last night, he'd actually leaned down to… and later he'd deliberately carried her over to the mirror, slowing everything down as he coaxed her to look...
The moment those details resurfaced, Ji Mingshu immediately grabbed the blanket and buried herself beneath it again, her entire body burning scarlet with embarrassment.
The previous night had left both her body and mind thoroughly shaken. She wasn't in the mood to worry about Little Lotus Li’s latest movements after the salon, nor did she have the energy to deal with Gu Kaiyang.
When the producer of Designer’s Abode messaged her, asking her to repost the program's premiere announcement that evening, she simply replied, "Okay." Whether in person or through WeChat, she radiated an almost saintly aura of peace and love.
Ji Mingshu wasn't particularly active on Weibo. She mostly browsed the news, left the occasional like, and every now and then joined online arguments to defend Pei Xiyan.
It was only after the production team repeatedly urged her did she reluctantly verify an Interior Designer account. She also changed her old keyboard-smash username into the simple, proper "Ji Mingshu."
Before verification, she'd only had a few hundred followers. Half were spam accounts advertising random products, while the other half consisted of socialites who followed one another purely out of obligation.
Once her verification was approved, the production team purchased thirty thousand followers for her, then cheerfully informed her with an unmistakable "You're welcome" attitude.
She'd been completely speechless at the time and hadn't even bothered replying.
Now she logged in dutifully, followed the show's official account, reposted the announcement, and immediately logged back out without even checking her new followers or unread messages.
Her mind was occupied by only one thing.
Would Cen Sen torment her again tonight? Had he secretly taken some kind of medication? And how exactly was she supposed to act naturally around him now?
To her surprise, things turned out exactly as she'd hoped.
That evening, Cen Sen had to meet with a long-term real estate partner who had traveled specifically to visit him. It would've been rude to refuse, and he couldn't say when he'd be home.
After reading the message from Cen Sen, Ji Mingshu only replied, “Okay,” then exited the chat interface.
Three seconds later, though, she tapped back into the conversation and scrolled upward through their message history.
Strange. When had this Dog Man started making a habit of reporting his schedule to her? Well... it was a good habit. Hm, he can keep it.
So Ji-shi Shushu spent another evening with the bedroom all to herself. She leisurely admired the newly expanded walk-in closet before switching on the television at eight o'clock to watch the premiere of Designer’s Abode.
She guessed Cen Sen must have spoken with the production team again.
Unlike what she'd feared, she hadn't been edited out completely. The opening lottery for team assignments and design selections both included several shots of her.
There weren't many, but every single one looked stunning.
It was as though she came with her own built-in beauty filter, breathtaking enough that the flashy idol Yan Yuexing beside her looked like nothing more than an obscure extra.
What she didn't know was that gossip forums were already ablaze with discussions:
People had always joked about the invisible gap between actors and idols. Now they were discovering there was apparently an equally obvious gap between ordinary people and idols.
Ji Mingshu, meanwhile, was thoroughly satisfied with how she looked on screen. She happily ate grapes while watching.
The longer she watched, however, the stranger everything felt.
Why did so much of the broadcast differ from what had actually happened during filming?
Some scenes had even been rearranged, and the order of people's conversations no longer matched what she remembered.
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