My Queen, My Rules - 64
Intercept
In the end, Ji Mingshu accepted Cen Sen's present that had crossed thousands of miles to deliver itself to her. Outwardly she looked reluctant. Inside, she was shy, delighted, and secretly overjoyed.
A little past ten p.m., Cen Sen carried flushed and breathless Ji Mingshu into the bathroom. Her face was rosy, her jaw damp with sweat, a few loose strands of hair plastered against her slim face.
He lowered her gently into the warm bath, brushed the stray hair away from her face, and looked at her with those clear, tranquil eyes. His voice was its usual low pitch, touched with the faintest hint of amusement. "Your stamina's terrible. You should exercise more."
Without a second thought, Ji Mingshu pinched his cheek hard, then planted a palm against his face and shoved him away. "You're so impossible!"
Her tone was seventy percent shyness, thirty percent coyness, and not even one percent genuinely annoyed.
Ji Mingshu had always known her stamina wasn't great. What she hadn't known was that Cen Sen's could keep surpassing her imagination again and again.
He had only arrived in Paris the night before, flown home by evening, negotiated a deal with investors in between, and although he'd been chauffeured everywhere and caught some sleep on the plane, that kind of nonstop travel was exhausting for anyone. She'd honestly expected his "present" to last maybe twenty or thirty minutes out of courtesy. But she had severely underestimated him.
Warm water rippled softly through the tub. After washing her hair, Cen Sen carefully combed it smooth, squeezed out the excess water, and helped her put on a drying cap.
He'd never done anything like this before. Ji Mingshu had to guide him through every step, and his movements were noticeably clumsy.
Fortunately, she didn't mind in the slightest. Tucking a few damp strands back beneath the cap, she stole a glance over her shoulder, unable to stop the smile quietly curling at the corners of her lips.
Ji Mingshu hadn't eaten dinner. After being dragged into several hours of "exercise," every ounce of strength had left her, and she was starving.
Once they finished bathing, Cen Sen used the leftovers in the refrigerator to make two bowls of tomato and egg noodles. He even gave her the last few slices of luncheon meat.
With her stomach finally full, Ji Mingshu, in a rare display of wifely virtue, didn't pester him around. She simply lay on the bed and told him about the awful events that had happened over the past two days.
In truth, Zhou Jiaheng had already given him a detailed, real-time account of everything. What those reports lacked, however, was how Ji Mingshu had actually felt.
As he listened to her ramble, sometimes angry, sometimes laughing at the absurdity of it all, Cen Sen suddenly turned toward her and said quietly, "I'm sorry."
The curtains had been left open. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the winter sky stretched dark as ink, dotted with only a handful of quiet stars across it.
Drawing her into his arms, he threaded his long fingers gently through her soft hair. His voice seemed softened by the lingering dampness at the tips of her hair, carrying a tenderness she rarely heard from him. "You were wronged because of me this time. I promise it won't happen again."
Ji Mingshu's nose suddenly stung. More than "I'm sorry," what she'd wanted to hear from Cen Sen was "I like you." Even so, those simple words instantly unearthed all the grievances she'd been forcing down.
The bone-deep chill of terror she'd felt last night wasn't something that could disappear after one night's sleep.
She wasn't a celebrity or an influencer. She didn't make a living off strangers' approval, and she hadn't committed some unforgivable crime. So why should she be expected to have a heart of steel, able to endure endless insults and vicious curses from complete strangers?
There was no way she was going to smile and say, "I'm fine," or "I'm okay," or "I don't blame you." This was obviously his fault!
With that thought, Ji Mingshu leaned forward and bit him hard on the neckz then seized his apology to state her case righteously:
"I was seriously wronged!"
"That D-list nobody's fan even photoshopped a memorial picture of me! Do you know how ugly it was? Oh, and they were surprisingly logical. They probably figured someone as young as me wouldn't just drop dead, so they even edited wrinkles and white hair onto me! It makes me so mad!"
"And it's all your fault! You're the classic type who admits you're wrong with a great attitude but never actually changes. No. You have to make it up to me today!"
"All right. I'll make it up to you."
Ji Mingshu refused to let him off so easily. "How? I want a compensation plan right now. Quick, quick! Don't think you can bluff your way through this."
Cen Sen thought for a moment, "How about I open an interior design studio for you?"
"...Are you even human? Your idea of making up for me is by having me throw myself wholeheartedly into work to earn money for the family?" Ji Mingshu stared at him in disbelief.
Had she overplayed the whole independent-woman image before? Had Cen Sen somehow gotten the impression that she secretly aspired to become some career powerhouse?
After another long pause, he tried again. "Then... how about I buy you an island? One where you can... see the aurora."
Not long ago, he'd met with another investor on the Nanwan project, Mr. Chang, who couldn't stop talking about his wife and children. During one meeting, Mr. Chang had mentioned buying a private island overseas for them. He planned to build a villa there and hire professionals to maintain the beach year-round. It would become a quiet, pleasant getaway for future family holidays. Mr. Chang had also mentioned that, if Cen Sen were interested, he could introduce him to a trustworthy seller. Some of the islands had exceptionally clear waters and even offered views of the Milky Way and the aurora.
The idea had appealed to him at the time, but work had piled up, and he'd completely forgotten about it. Now, proposing it as compensation, he wasn't entirely sure whether Ji Mingshu would be satisfied.
Not every woman could be dazzled by extravagant luxuries like money, jewelry, yachts, private jets, or private islands. But Ji Mingshu absolutely could.
Without a moment's hesitation, she happily chirped, "Okay!" Her attitude completed a perfect one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.
Just moments ago she'd looked ready to bite Cen Sen's head off. Now she was snuggled sweetly into his arms, enthusiastically massaging his shoulders, her eyes sparkling as she peppered him with questions. Where exactly was the island? How big was it? Could she name it herself? Was the ownership permanent? Would it be convenient for throwing parties? If it had auroras, didn't that mean it would be freezing?
Cen Sen was nothing if not efficient. Seeing how interested she was, he immediately contacted Zhou Jiaheng and told him to start handling the purchase.
After making two mistakes in a row, Zhou Jiaheng was still anxiously waiting to find out what would become of his job, unsure how Cen Sen intended to deal with him now that they had returned to China.
The moment work came in, he instantly sprang back to life. He shot upright out of bed without even bothering to put on slippers, rushed to his computer with shining eyes, and began making phone call after phone call.
The workplace was a battlefield. He might look like President Cen's indispensable right-hand man, but competition was brutal. All those assistants in the Chief Assistant's office were eyeing his position, just waiting for him to slip up so they could take his place!
Thrilled at the prospect of owning her own island, Ji Mingshu grinned from ear to ear. The first thing she did was announce the news in her group chat with Jiang Chun and Gu Kaiyang, informing them that from now on they should respectfully address her as "Aurora Island Mistress."
For once, the two were perfectly synchronized. Both replied with exactly the same two words: [You're nuts.]
Jiang Chun added resentfully: [Do you have any idea what time it is? Waking people from a good dream deserves being dunked in a pig cage.]
Ji Mingshu: [It's not even midnight. Why are you sleeping already? Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Calling you Goose is an insult to geese. You should prepare that pig cage for yourself.]
Ji Mingshu typed with complete concentration, attacking the chat like she was trying to score first blood in a game. Since he couldn't get a word in, Cen Sen simply glanced at his own phone.
At this hour, the group chat with his childhood friends was still lively. Jiang Che was asking what he should get his girlfriend for the upcoming New Year to make her happy.
Cen Sen: [Jewelry. Yachts. Islands.]
Having just successfully soothed his own wife, he generously shared his experience.
Jiang Che, however, was unappreciative.
Jiang Che: [You're so vulgar. Can't you come up with something more original?]
Shu Yang: [?]
Shu Yang: [I just love Sen-ge’s type of vulgarity.]
Zhao Yang: [Depends on the woman. It's like surgery. You can't treat every case the same. This trick works on Xiao Shu, sure, but definitely not Xiao Youyu. With a stubborn girl like her, you don't win her over with money, and you have no use for originality either. It's sincerity that matters. Am I right, President Jiang?]
Jiang Che: [Yeah.]
Jiang Che: [Before we started dating, I bought her a necklace. She thought I was insulting her.]
Cen Sen: [...]
He set his phone down and looked at Ji Mingshu, who was happily telling everyone about her new identity as an island owner. Suddenly, he felt that he'd been rather fortunate.
After a brief moment of thought, he gave Zhou Jiaheng another task. Whenever he had spare time, he was to keep an eye out for anything expensive and exceptionally rare, just in case.
Radiating the holy glow of ‘work is my joy’, Zhou Jiaheng eagerly agreed. Then, remembering something he'd heard a few days earlier, he promptly added "asteroid naming rights" to his growing list of expensive and rare purchases.
In the blink of an eye, Little New Year arrived. Winter in the capital deepened, and snow fell heavier than ever.
At this time of year, the Forbidden City, with its crimson walls blanketed in white, looked like a painting from another age. Ji Mingshu had no interest in squeezing into the crowds for photographs. Instead, she accompanied Old Master Cen, Old Madam Cen, and Cen Sen to spend a couple of days at the suburban estate where Cen Yuanchao was recuperating.
For some reason, Cen Sen seemed to have done something to anger him. Over those two days, Cen Yuanchao repeatedly hauled him in for lectures, each lasting at least half an hour. His voice was so loud that Ji Mingshu could hear every burst of anger while taking selfies in the covered walkway outside.
Now that Cen Sen had become the man she loved, seeing him scolded like that naturally tugged at her heart. Pretending not to notice, she would wait until Cen Yuanchao was in the middle of one of his tirades before slipping inside with bowls of rock sugar pear soup with white fungus or bird's nest.
Though Cen Yuanchao looked thoroughly displeased, he couldn't very well lose his temper with his daughter-in-law. Every time, he simply waved them both away. "Out. Both of you. Stop standing around offending my eyesight."
Lowering her voice, Ji Mingshu asked, "What did you do? Why is Dad so angry?"
"It's nothing." Cen Sen replied calmly, brushing a stray snowflake from her hair. "Work matters."
Of course she knew it was work. Why else would he still be going into the office every day with the New Year so close, or spend every evening taking nonstop phone calls with his laptop constantly open?
In the past, Ji Mingshu had never paid much attention to Cen Sen's work. Even if she tried, she wouldn't understand it anyway.
Besides, ever since graduating from university, she'd heard countless relatives and acquaintances praise him. They all talked about how exceptionally capable he was, how ambitious, decisive, and formidable he was in business. She'd naturally assumed there wasn't a single challenge in the workplace that Cen Sen couldn't overcome.
But now, it seemed that wasn't entirely true.
That evening, Cen Sen still hadn't returned. Ji Mingshu was in her room preparing New Year's gifts for the elders and younger relatives of both the Cen and Ji families. She was about to ask Old Madam Cen whether Cen Yingshuang, who had gone to Germany with her research team, would be back in time for the holiday. But before reaching her room, she overheard Cen Yuanchao and Old Master Cen talking in the study.
Cen Yuanchao's health was poor. Unless he deliberately put strength in it, his voice always carried a trace of weakness.
"...The deal was all but settled! He couldn't even wait until the contract was signed before coming back. In the end, A-Yang swooped in and stole the deal right out from under him. I really don't understand what that child is thinking anymore!"
Old Master Cen remained calm. "A-Sen knows what he's doing. There's no need to worry so much."
Cen Yuanchao fell silent for a long moment, then let out what sounded like a weary sigh. "Worrying is useless. His mind's made up. These days, even I can't rein him in anymore."
---
Comments
Post a Comment