My Queen, My Rules - 63

And so, while Ji Mingshu was carefully composing a WeChat message, she found herself trending on Weibo—again.

Netizens who had missed out on last night's drama due to the keyword blocks were now devouring the new developments while catching up on the missed tea. They unanimously declared that this kind of ‘studying’ was deeply satisfying.

Entertainment gossip public accounts, with their superb summarization skills, laid out the cause and effect of the entire incident with a wealth of images and text. Their post was titled: “Click Here to See the Domineering CEO Pampering His Wife!”

This post was later hailed as a classic in year-end gossip retrospectives; it even compiled many overlooked details.

For instance, Feng Yan, Li Che, and Pei Xiyan had all liked and reposted Ji Mingshu's Weibo the moment she spoke out. And back when the scandal first broke, a niche ‘rich-girl’ influencer had predicted that the production team and Yan Yuexing were doomed.

Simultaneously, discussions exploded across various forums. Some users dug up Ji Mingshu's two previous collaborations with Chris Chou on show venues. Some actually sat down and watched the two aired episodes of Designer's Abode, saying Ji Mingshu's designs showed real promise. But the majority were busy screenshotting her stunning visuals to admire them, or turning her into reaction GIFs.

The most viral memes were the GIF of Ji Mingshu pointing at Yan Yuexing during the confrontation about the rug, and the one of her turning and walking away from Yan Yuexing with an exasperated eye-roll.

The caption was replaced with things like: "When dawn breaks, please shut up," "You wasteful girl," "I have nothing to say to an idiot like you," "You have one second to get out of this CEO's wife's sight," etc.

By the afternoon, all related program videos had been pulled from every platform. The production team and Yan Yuexing's studio issued apologies almost simultaneously.

Interestingly, the two sides didn't seem to have aligned their stories. Yan Yuexing's studio made no mention of ‘malicious editing’, and their apology only addressed the fan-led cyberbullying against Ji Mingshu. It came off as supremely hypocritical, as if they were completely innocent in the matter, and the production team had acted alone.

Presumably furious at being thrown under the bus, the production team retaliated by uploading nearly two hours of raw, unedited footage to Xingcheng TV—no filters, no skin smoothing, and complete with live audio.

[OMG, I thought the comparison in the aired version was brutal enough, but the unedited comparison is literally the young mistress and her ugly maid.]

[Is the Silencer Ji's face, skin, and figure even real? Also, gotta praise my Little Yan for being so handsome! Why is he so tall at sixteen?!]

[Key point! Key point! From 3:18 to 4:01 in the first video, everything JMS said was edited out! YYX was the one causing all the trouble, but they managed to edit it to look like JMS was throwing a tantrum for no reason! That's something!]

[Watching the unedited version, I noticed that Ji Ji-Red, Feng Yan, and Pei Xiyan all seemed to be giving Yan Yuexing the cold shoulder. The three of them just consulted with each other.]

[I've said this so many times and no one listens tvt: Pei Xiyan follows JMS and FY on Weibo, but not YYX.]

Forum experts quickly skimmed through the lengthy, tedious raw footage and produced a highlight reel.

No one expected this cut would directly ignite the entire internet!

The video showed Ji Mingshu tearing into Yan Yuexing during the rug argument, a segment completely cut from the broadcast:

“If you don’t understand, then talk less and work more. Did you even graduate college? Are the songs you sing your own original creations? Do you have the most basic respect for original design in your head? This is from a brand collectively boycotted by the fashion industry, barred from entering the Chinese market. They haven't changed their ways, just partnered with a furniture manufacturer for this piece-of-crap rug that they still dare to sell for 6,500! And the worst part is, there are half-baked posers like you who actually praise it!”

This logical and brutal evisceration was reposted millions of times within hours. Ji Mingshu's follower count skyrocketing by hundreds, even thousands, every second. The top comments under her long Weibo post underwent a dramatic shift:

[AHHHHH! The CEO's wife is unleashing her full aura!!! I'm dead!!!]

[The CEO's wife said what we were all thinking! That ugly rug for sixty-five hundred, and a bunch of influencers were promoting it!!!]

[I unilaterally declare that I'm in love! Will you consider debuting, madam?! I'm willing to spend all my allowance to help our madam win the Center!]

[After watching the raw footage, I think the production team is nuts. Maliciously editing Ms. Ji to prop up Ms. Yan? It's obvious that building the show around Ms. Ji would have made it a hit!]

Ji Mingshu: "…"

She was burning with curiosity about who was running the Junyi official Weibo. "Ms. Ji" this, "Ms. Ji" that—now everyone was calling her Ms. Ji.

For heaven's sake, I'm an eternally eighteen-year-old youthful fairy, okay? ‘Ms. Ji’ sounded too much like a stern-faced National People's Congress delegate, or the kind of dean that makes students tremble.

She complained about it in her girls' group chat.

Gu Kaiyang: [？？？]

Gu Kaiyang: [Girl, your priorities are seriously off.]

Jiang Chun: [Yan Yuexing gets called Ms. Yan too. She's much younger than you, so you're not the worse off.]

Ji Mingshu: [Kindly shut up, goose. Thank you.]

Jiang Chun: [Turning your back on your old friends now that you're famous, I see through you, Ji-shi Shushu!]

Jiang Chun then launched a sticker attack against her, this time using a fresh batch of Ji Mingshu stickers, both static and animated.

Reaching her limit, Ji Mingshu turned off her phone and collapsed onto the bed.

And so, the farce finally settled. She had secured the justice she sought, and was inexplicably gifted with an explosive level of fame.

She had to admit that the power of online public opinion was now a formidable force. And it was fickle, changing in the blink of an eye. Ji Mingshu had never imagined that the release of the raw footage would somehow switch her public perception to a fan-magnet.

It might sound obnoxious, but being thrust into the spotlight felt… strange. She had no idea how to handle it, so for the moment, she decided not to bother.

She rolled over, planning to catch up on more sleep.

But less than three minutes later, she grabbed her phone again to pester Cen Sen.

Ji Mingshu: [You deadbeat.]

Ji Mingshu: [I'm famous now.]

Ji Mingshu: [Let's break up.]

Ji Mingshu: [Of course, if you bring back some gifts from Paris, I might consider living with you a little longer.]

She waited five minutes. No response from Cen Sen. It should be morning in Paris now; he couldn't still be asleep. He must be in a meeting.

At this thought, she put her phone down and drifted off to sleep, completely at ease.

Ji Mingshu woke up as dusk was settling in. Yawning and bleary-eyed, she pondered what to eat for dinner.

Home alone, she hadn't closed the bedroom door while sleeping. Her sharp ears now picked up faint rustling sounds and footsteps from downstairs.

Her first thought was the live-in housekeeper. But that didn't make sense. The helper's quarters and the main living area were separate; the staff entrance was at the back of the manor. And when the family was home, the housekeeper would absolutely not come in without being called.

A sudden thought jolted her fully awake. She hurried out of bed, a certain guess clamoring in her heart.

She tried to suppress it, afraid to let that secret hope grow too strong. But standing by the staircase railing, seeing Cen Sen downstairs, real and solid, taking off his shoes and loosening his tie, it felt like she had been struck by a wave of pure happiness.

Cen Sen had just arrived home. Hearing the noise, he glanced up slightly.

The exhaustion from forty-eight hours of non-stop travel and meetings seemed to melt away the moment his gaze met Ji Mingshu's.

Winter sunset beams streamed in through the four-paneled south window, falling on him. After changing his shoes, he leaned against the doorframe, right on the border between light and shadow, his whole body still cloaked in palpable weariness.

But looking up at Ji Mingshu, the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. He opened his arms in a gesture of invitation.

The light in the room seemed to brighten for a single, suspended moment. Without a second's hesitation, Ji Mingshu ran down barefoot from upstairs.

Somehow, as she ran down, memories from her school years flashed through her mind unbidden.

The red rubberized track. The brick-red school buildings. The navy-blue uniforms.

The blue sky back then seemed brighter than now, the lawn a tender green. Youth, in retrospect, always seemed to be tinted with a soft, vibrant glow.

And the Cen Sen of that time was also bright and distant, always far, far away from her. On the rare occasions they crossed paths, she would brush past him with an air of disdain.

But after every act of indifference, she would, without fail, glance back at the boy's handsome, straight-backed figure.

Now, years later, she could finally throw herself into that boy's embrace as she had always wished—openly and without pretense.

In truth, that image of Ji Mingshu flying down towards him from upstairs was one Cen Sen would often revisit later.

The misty-pink nightgown, her black hair a cascading waterfall, the stars shimmering in her eyes.

In that moment, he felt a sudden, certain conviction: what he felt for Ji Mingshu was far more than just liking.

She carried the faint, fresh scent of camellia body lotion. He closed his eyes, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and let himself drown in her presence, with no desire to ever surface.

The post-reunion embrace in the winter twilight lasted about a minute. Even then, Ji Mingshu refused to let go. She just pressed her face against his chest and asked in a muffled voice, "How are you back already? Did the negotiations go well?"

Cen Sen gave a low "Mmm."

Ji Mingshu hugged him even tighter. She'd meant to ask if he was tired, if he needed to rest, but the words transformed into, "Why didn't you pick me up and spin me around? They always spin around in TV shows."

Before he could answer, she grumbled under her breath, "Never mind. You're almost thirty, an old man now. You probably don't have the strength to lift me anyway—AH!!!"

Before she could finish, she was suddenly swept off her feet. Instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck, she watched the room spin around her.

"O-okay, okay, that's enough! Put me down!"

She talked a big game, but her stamina was pathetic. A few spins were all it took to make her dizzy. When her feet finally touched the ground, she stumbled backward, stepping on his foot, and would have fallen if not for Cen Sen's arm around her waist.

While Ji Mingshu was recovering from the dizziness, Cen Sen took advantage of her distraction. "I only saw your messages after I landed. Didn't bring presents back for you. What should we do?"

Ji Mingshu was still seeing stars. The words "it's fine" were on the tip of her tongue, but she caught herself just in time.

"What else? Break up, then," she taunted in a tiny, provocative voice, poking his chest with a finger.

Cen Sen's eyes darkened slightly, his voice low and hoarse. "But I also came back from Paris. How about accepting me as the present?"

Ji Mingshu: "…"

How does a dog man this smooth even exist?!

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