My Queen, My Rules - 67
Confession
One had to admit, in moments like this, Ji Mingshu knew exactly when it was smarter to surrender.
The office blinds lowered slowly, shutting out the daylight as the harsh white lights softened into a warm amber glow. Shadows blurred gently across the room.
From the direction of the desk came the muffled rustle of clothes and documents tumbling onto the floor, accompanied by quiet, stifled moans.
Perched on the edge of the desk, Ji Mingshu could barely keep her arms around Cen Sen's shoulders. Her hands slipped away again and again, only to cling back moments later.
Knowing there were still people outside, she didn't dare make a sound. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she bit down lightly on the side of Cen Sen's neck in helpless protest.
A sheen of sweat dampened the black hair across Cen Sen's forehead. Whenever desire overwhelmed him, he would lean close to her ear and murmur something in that low, husky voice of his. Even the corners of his eyes had flushed red.
In truth, Ji Mingshu's worries were somewhat unnecessary. With Lunar New Year only a day away, most employees had already begun their holiday. Junyi's headquarters was nearly deserted, and the executive floor was quieter still. Besides, Cen Sen had hung a clear "Do Not Disturb" sign outside his office. No one with any sense would dare step closer, let alone linger to eavesdrop.
Still, the fact that Ji Mingshu disappeared into the president's office for several hours without emerging left the assistants across the hall in an impossible position. They exchanged awkward glances, each silently reading the exact same thought in the other's eyes: They're doing... aerobic exercise... in broad daylight. Are we seriously supposed to keep working here?
Whenever someone called with an urgent document requiring President Cen's signature, they calmly replied, "President Cen is busy," while their imaginations insisted on supplying entirely inappropriate interpretations of just how "busy" he might be. It only made everything more embarrassing.
A little after seven that evening, Cen Sen finally rang the internal line and instructed everyone to go home. They had been waiting for exactly those words. In moments, they packed up their things and vanished down the hallway like a gust of wind.
Only after confirming several times that the corridor was completely empty did Ji Mingshu dare put on her sunglasses, pull her collar high over her face, and follow behind Cen Sen in tiny, careful steps.
Her gait was unnatural, as if her legs might give way at any moment, and her knees bore a faint flush of red.
Perhaps having had his fill with the office play, once they returned home that night, Cen Cen Sen didn’t make more demands that night. Curled safely in his arms, Ji Mingshu enjoyed one of the soundest sleeps she'd had in ages.
The next day was Lunar New Year's Eve.
After days of relentless snowfall, even the heavens seemed to smile at last, rewarding the city with clear skies.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen set out early that morning for the Ji family residence.
They stayed for the reunion lunch, where her Second Uncle, Ji Rubai, inevitably returned to an old favorite topic. Centered around one core objective and supported by every conceivable argument, he launched yet another comprehensive campaign urging the now three-years-married couple to have children.
"Second Uncle, I'm only twenty-five. What's the rush? Plenty of girls my age aren't even married yet. They're still in graduate school or just starting their careers." Ji Mingshu set down her chopsticks and tried the coquettish approach.
Unfortunately, Ji Rubai was immune to it, and frighteningly good at debating. "Twenty-five? Once the New Year arrives, you'll be twenty-six. Besides, you're not in graduate school, and you're not job hunting either. How are you comparable? And since when do graduate school or work prevent people from getting married and having children? Sihuai, tell her. Aren't there plenty of girls at your university who get married and have babies while studying?"
Ji Sihuai was Ji Mingshu's eldest cousin. In his early thirties, he had already earned the title of associate professor at one of the capital's prestigious universities.
He smiled and nodded. "Quite a lot, actually. Not just graduate students. Undergraduates too. Last year, a junior wanted me to supervise her. She was bright and capable, and I thought she'd make a great addition for my lab if she got into graduate school. Before she even finished her third year, she was already off having a baby."
Ji Rubai looked thoroughly satisfied. He shot Ji Mingshu a triumphant glance that practically declared, See? I'm objectively correct.
Then Ji Rusong, her eldest aunt, second aunt, and every one of her cousins all turned toward her in perfect unison, wearing identical expressions that clearly said, Your Second Uncle is right.
Ji Mingshu froze with a spoonful of soup still in her mouth, unable to swallow.
Thankfully, Cen Sen spoke up gently to rescue her. "Mingshu is still young. We can spend the next year or two preparing and getting her health in order first. There's no need to rush into having children."
As he finished speaking, he lifted his wine glass and offered a respectful toast to her uncles and cousins.
Since Cen Sen had already made their position clear, no one could reasonably keep pressing the issue. After all, they couldn't exactly camp outside the couple's home every day and personally help them conceive.
Escaping the Ji family's interrogation had not been easy. Unfortunately, when they arrived at Nanqiao Hutong that evening for dinner with the Cen family, the elders seemed to have secretly coordinated with the Ji family beforehand. After only a few casual exchanges, they began trying various ways to hint and probe. When the couple didn’t take the bait, they asked directly about their plans for
children.
Fortunately, things were a little easier on the Cen family's side.
Cen Yingshuang had returned home for the New Year, and as the family's famously unmarried older woman, she became the primary target of the elders' attention. Thanks to her, Ji Mingshu was spared quite a few of the incoming questions.
By the time the reunion dinner ended, night had fully settled over the city. The television filled the room with festive holiday advertisements while laughter echoed throughout the main hall of the Cen residence. After eating, the younger generation all dashed out of the hutong toward their family cars, hauling armfuls of fireworks from the trunks, enthusiastically comparing whose fireworks were newer, fancier, and more impressive.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen stayed behind for a while to chat with the elders. When Ji Mingshu mentioned she had eaten a little too much, Cen Sen suggested taking a walk.
The adults immediately teased the affectionate young couple. Ji Mingshu played along just enough, though most of the sweetness she felt wasn't an act at all. After exchanging a few bashful complaints with the elders, she slipped her arm through Cen Sen's and walked out beside him.
Winter nights in the capital were bitterly cold. Every breath drifted into the air as white mist while the two of them wandered through the narrow hutong lanes.
The Ji family had once lived on this very street before moving away during her high school years. More than a decade later, the alley seemed almost unchanged. The same people, the same road, as though time itself had stood still.
Spotting an old utility pole at the entrance of the alley, Ji Mingshu suddenly pointed toward it. "Do you remember that?"
Cen Sen looked at her.
"When we were kids, my classmates and I always played Chinese jump rope here. You know, the kind of rubber band rope you can take apart? We’d always tie one end to this pole.”
"One day we'd already split into teams, but we were missing someone to stand at the other end and hold the rope. You happened to be walking home from school, so I asked if you could help."
"Do you remember how unbelievably cold you were? You just gave me this icy look, didn't even grunt in response, and walked straight home. I was furious! My friends and I scolded you for ages afterward!"
"Did I?" Cen Sen thought for a moment. "I don't remember."
Ji Mingshu rolled her eyes. Right. There are plenty of things you don't remember.
Seizing the opportunity, she enthusiastically began settling old scores. One after another, she listed all the times she had sincerely wanted to be his friend, only for him to shut her out with that perpetually frosty expression and commit countless unforgivable offenses against her young heart.
Cen Sen listened quietly from beginning to end. Not because he was refusing to defend himself, but because he genuinely couldn't remember most of what she described.
During the first two years after arriving at Nanqiao Hutong, he still couldn't separate himself from the life he had left behind with Father An, Mother An, and his little sister. Even hearing classmates call him by his new name at school filled him with resistance: My name isn't Cen Sen. My name is An Sen.
When his English teacher kindly asked if he already had an English name and offered to help him choose one if he didn't, he had written Anson onto the registration form without the slightest hesitation—a name he still used to this day.
Although he couldn't remember the stories Ji Mingshu was telling, he could imagine what kind of boy he had been then. Distrustful of the world. Detached from everyone around him. Someone who would naturally assume that even a friendly little girl approaching him with snacks must have some hidden motive.
Listening to Ji Mingshu recite his childhood crimes, however, unexpectedly reminded Cen Sen of something Jiang Che had once said.
"Do you remember when you first came to Nanqiao Hutong as a kid? Ji Mingshu really liked you back then. She brought snacks every single day just to play with you."
...
"Of course she did. Shu Yang used to tease her every day for chasing after someone who wouldn't give her the time of day. He even joked she'd already forgotten Cen Yang completely. Said she had no loyalty."
Cen Sen turned toward her. "Jiang Che told me when I first moved to Nanqiao Hutong, you really liked me."
Ji Mingshu abruptly stopped her rambling. "Well, yes. But it was just… liking purely out of appreciation for your looks, you know?" she admitted, carefully clarifying instead of denying it.
"Did I grow up ugly?”
"...What?"
"No? If someone like you counts as ugly, what hope is there for the rest of them?"
Ji Mingshu had never been stingy with compliments about Cen Sen's appearance. After all, praising his face was also a compliment to her own taste. Even when they were first married and arguing, she would end every fight by declaring, "For the sake of that face, I can't even be bothered arguing with you anymore!”
Cen Sen seemed to smile, then asked, “And now? Do you still like me for my looks?”
"..."
Trying to trick a confession out of someone like this should be illegal!
By then they had reached the utility pole at the alley entrance. Ji Mingshu pressed her lips tightly together while her traitorous heart pounded wildly inside her chest.
But she stubbornly refused to answer.
A cold wind swept through the alley. Streetlights scattered soft pools of light across the road as fresh snow began drifting down once more. Across the street, children chased one another with sparklers, their laughter bright against the quiet winter night.
As Ji Mingshu struggled with how to respond, Cen Sen suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind, drawing her completely into the warmth of his overcoat. His arms circled her waist while his lips brushed lightly against the side of her ear, cool, damp, and irresistibly ticklish.
Her cheeks instantly warmed, she instinctively leaned away a little.
This felt like it had crossed well beyond the boundaries of a purely political marriage, wasn't it? Actually, a few times before, it had felt a bit…
She had spent all this time forcing herself not to overthink it, fearing that her own feelings were making her interpret every gesture through rose-colored glasses, and was terrified of asking outright and hearing an answer she didn't want.
But now, for the first time, she was certain she hadn't overthinking it.
"Then... you answer me first."
"Hm?"
"You... do you... like me?" Without waiting for a response, she quickly defended herself. "I'm not being conceited. It's just... lately you've been so nice to me. So if you don’t like me, then this is completely your fault for giving me the wrong impression... well... you rushed back from Paris for me, bought me all those things, and..."
"You only figured it out now?"
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