My Queen, My Rules - 69

Publishing a book was something Li Wenyin had been preparing for in parallel with the film project. As she’d stated on Weibo, she had invested considerable effort into its launch. However, the profit margins for books were limited, so she hadn’t devoted the same level of pre-release promotion to it as she had to the film.

The last time she’d seen Cen Sen and Ji Mingshu was at the Zero Degree salon. After that event, Ji Mingshu’s clique of friends had spared no effort in smearing her reputation everywhere, branding her as the ultimate “green tea bitch” ex who shamelessly tried to home-wreck and then made a movie to spite the married couple—a walking curse for anyone associated with her.

These rumors had caused her some trouble, but ultimately, she and Ji Mingshu moved in different social circles, so the damage was contained. Besides, in the cutthroat world of fame and fortune, who was truly spotless and beyond reproach?

She didn't care much about the gossip itself. What she cared about was that Cen Sen had intervened for Ji Mingshu. She cared that Ji Mingshu, who never had to lift a finger, once again got exactly what she wanted, especially when it came to men.

Most of the time, Li Wenyin lived with clear-eyed clarity. She knew everything she had today was hard-won, and that she should weigh her actions carefully. People around her often reminded her of this… but somehow, whenever it concerned Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen, that clarity vanished.

Returning home that evening, the house was brightly lit. Her mother, Feng Shuxiu, was on the balcony trimming flower branches.

Having lived in comfort all these years, Feng Shuxiu had taken up the hobby of gardening in her leisure time, emulating the city’s wealthy ladies. Her cultivated grace was a world away from the chauffeur’s widow and Ji family nanny she had once been.

"Mom, I'm back," Li Wenyin called out absently while changing her shoes, her eyes fixed on her phone.

Between the book and the movie, she hadn’t had a moment’s rest over the New Year. On her way home, she'd been discussing the book's pre-order promotional gifts for various sales channels with her editor.

Feng Shuxiu didn’t turn around or acknowledge her. But as if she had eyes in the back of her head, the moment Li Wenyin headed for her room, she suddenly spoke. "Stop right there."

Li Wenyin paused, glanced towards the balcony, then turned and walked to the living room.

They sat facing each other.

"What is it, Mom?" Li Wenyin asked.

“You tell me,” Feng Shuxiu replied, her expression and voice both eerily calm.

Li Wenyin fell silent, her face indicating understanding but offering no reply.

Seeing this, Feng Shuxiu continued, “I told you not to make that movie. You didn’t listen. Now you’ve quietly published a book too. Must you completely offend both the Ji and Cen families before you’re satisfied?”

Li Wenyin kept her eyes downcast, her explanation dismissive. "Mom, you’re overthinking it. Ji Mingshu and I were never going to get along in this lifetime. Whether I offend her or not, she’d never give me the time of day."

"Besides, I'm publishing the book and making the movie to make money, to build my reputation, to climb higher. I'm not breaking any laws. What can they possibly do to me? This is a society governed by law. I'm not some lump of dough for them to knead however they please.”

“Still so stubborn! Is this money so easy to earn?” Feng Shuxiu stared at her for a few silent seconds, then issued a sharp warning. “How many times have I told you? Work within your capabilities. Don’t covet things that don’t belong to you!”

Hearing this, Li Wenyin’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. She raised her eyes, meeting her mother’s suddenly sharp gaze head-on.

“Mom, didn’t you refuse the death pension, insisting on clinging to the Ji family as a nanny, coveting a higher branch, before you managed to marry into the Zou family? I’m just following your example.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Follow my example? What exactly have you learned?" Feng Shuxiu didn't flare up at the sarcasm. Instead, she shot the question back, then took a deep breath, laying out facts and examples. Her voice even grew calmer than during the earlier scolding. "The Zou family was the best choice within my capabilities. Just like the Yuan family is the best choice within yours. The Cen family is beyond your reach. Don’t think about it. And don’t antagonize the Ji family.”

Li Wenyin stared at Feng Shuxiu and let out a cold laugh, as if she’d heard the world’s funniest joke.

And truly, Li Wenyin found it hilarious. All these years, people had gossiped about how cunning and capable her mother was—a chauffeur’s widow with a child in tow, who’d managed to fly from being a Ji family nanny to becoming Mrs. Zou.

The Zou family moved in the refined, intellectual aristocracy circles of the capital. “Refined and intellectual” sounded nice; in reality, it meant poor but pretentious.

The worst was the old Madam Zou, the matriarch, with her insufferable superiority complex. She looked down on Feng Shuxiu, the nanny with baggage, with ten thousand kinds of disdain. If Li Wenyin's stepfather hadn't, in a ridiculously dramatic turn of events, threatened suicide to get his way, the marriage would never have happened.

Even after the marriage, for all these years, Feng Shuxiu and Li Wenyin had lived in this small villa in the Fourth Ring Road like a mistress kept in a separate residence in ancient times. They weren’t even allowed back to the main house for New Year's Eve dinner; the whole family found them an eyesore.

Yet, despite this treatment, Feng Shuxiu never complained. She remained gentle and attentive to her husband, often appearing perfectly content, her face forever etched with “marrying you is the greatest fortune of my life.”

What Li Wenyin couldn't stand the most was her mother’s attitude. More than that, she despised how her mother, with her own limited ambitions, insisted on holding her back from climbing higher, ever higher.

What, besides her birth, did Li Wenyin lack compared to Ji Mingshu? Why, from the very first day they moved into the Ji household, did Feng Shuxiu brainwash her into believing their statuses were different, that she could never have what Ji Mingshu had?

She was sick of it.

Absolutely sick of it!

Li Wenyin suddenly stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked towards the door without another word.

"Stop!" Feng Shuxiu called out from behind again.

Li Wenyin paused, her hand on the doorknob, not turning back.

“Xiao Yin, this is the last time I’ll advise you. Let’s be fair. Over the years, within my capabilities, I’ve secured many things for you: a good reputation, a top-tier education, a property in a good location, and a promising match like the Yuan family. But if you don't appreciate what you have, if you insist on clinging to that stubborn pride and opposing Ji Mingshu… then when you fall, I absolutely will not be there to pick you up again.”

Li Wenyin’s lips curled in scorn.

This was her mother. When poor, a crude opportunist; when wealthy, a refined one. Afraid that offending the Cen and Ji families might affect her quality of life as Mrs. Zou, she was so quick to disown her only biological daughter.

Without looking back, Li Wenyin left, slamming the door with a force that shook the walls.

Feng Shuxiu leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. She truly couldn't understand how she, who had lived her life with such clear-headed, cautious clarity, had raised a daughter like Li Wenyin—so sensitive, so fiercely competitive, with ambitions soaring higher than her reach.

Ambition itself wasn’t bad. But when one’s abilities couldn’t match that ambition, disaster was inevitable.

Feng Shuxiu's prophecy of Li Wenyin's impending fall soon materialized.

Why? Because Ji Mingshu resolutely implemented the policy of “if that book stays in my sight for one more day, you won’t see a good expression from me for one more day,” subjecting Cen Sen to the “three no’s” cold violence: no speaking, no eye contact, no sharing a bed.

With Cen Sen ignored, Ji Mingshu had no choice but to turn her attention to her sisters, both the plastic and the real ones.

Gu Kaiyang: [???]

Gu Kaiyang: [Isn't your husband pretty innocent in all this? Don't overdo it.]

When Ji Mingshu brought the matter up in the group chat, Gu Kaiyang wasn't very supportive.

But Jiang Chun, for once, found herself on the same side as Ji Mingshu.

Jiang Chun: [???]

Jiang Chun: [No no no!]

Jiang Chun: [Editor Gu, it’s time you had a proper relationship. Wait, have you ever even been in one...? Think about it. If you were super understanding every day; went home to do laundry, cook, mop, automatically assumed some slut was trying to frame him when you saw lipstick on your boyfriend’s collar... how long do you think that would last? Men love bad women, and women need to make a scene sometimes for men to love them! It’s fucking true!!!]

Ji Mingshu: [I hereby declare the above statement the pinnacle of Goose Wisdom!]

Gu Kaiyang: [...?]

Gu Kaiyang: [I'm surrounded by lunatics :)]

But, bizarrely, Cen Sen seemed to be exactly the kind of man described in Jiang Chun's “Goose Wisdom,” the kind who loved it when women “made a scene.”

The moment Ji Mingshu got angry, he wasted no time in dealing with Li Wenyin's book.

The solution was simple. It was still the New Year holiday, and Li Wenyin’s book was only in the pre-order phase, not officially released. Recalling it after launch over some “issues” would have been messy. But pre-sale? That was a piece of cake.

On the fifth day of the new year, Li Wenyin's book, which had been on pre-order for less than a week, was suddenly pulled from all platforms.

The reason given by her editor was: a random inspection by the authorities had found violations of publication regulations in the manuscript, such as depictions of high school students in early relationships.

This particular content had only slipped through because her publisher had strong backing. For the sake of sales, they’d turned a blind eye to some borderline content that was against regulations, allowing the book to secure its ISBN and CIP.

If her book was really subjected to inspection, it wouldn’t withstand the review process.

The news was too sudden. Faced with a wave of fan backlash, Li Wenyin's first instinct was to throw her publisher under the bus.

The publisher did have its own motives and undeniable responsibility in the content review process, but they had treated Li Wenyin's book as a top priority. The initial print run was set very high. Combined with the promising pre-sales, they had paid extra to have multiple printing houses in two cities work simultaneously. Nearly fifty thousand copies had already been printed.

They'd used expensive, high-quality paper, included numerous color inserts, and employed special techniques for the cover. Being told to pull the book and revise the problematic content meant the publisher was facing catastrophic losses.

And in the midst of this disaster, Li Wenyin, without any prior discussion, shifted all the blame onto them, letting her fans attack them. Naturally, they refused to take it lying down!

The publisher's official Weibo account publicly fired back: You wrote the content, you personally approved the final draft, you insisted on keeping the sensitive parts. And now you're playing the innocent white lotus?

After dissing her, they promptly posted screenshots of their conversations.

But Li Wenyin was no fool. Did they think she’d just accept the blame they're pushing her way?

Calming down, she posted another master-level white lotus post, ostensibly an apology, but actually absolving herself. She said it was all her fault, that she lacked publishing experience and mistakenly assumed any manuscript approved by the publisher must have no issues. For good measure, she posted the original publishing contract, highlighting the clauses about liability.

On the contract, liability for issues that arose after the ISBN was granted clearly fell to the publisher.

With Li Wenyin's large fanbase, the publisher's Weibo was once again flooded with hate.

In the short time it took for this to unfold, Li Wenyin had regained her composure. The book being blocked wasn't a huge loss for her; she just wouldn't get the royalties. She could even use this unexpected pre-sale cancellation to generate buzz for her movie.

Sensing her intention, the publisher was livid! This woman was unbelievable! Not only did she shift blame, but she also planned to step on them to promote her movie? Over their dead body! So what if they had fewer fans than her? They could buy marketing accounts, run reposts**,** giveaways!

Even though the publishing ban was already a done deal and neither side was clean, the publisher refused to swallow this injustice. They were determined to prove who was dirtier.

Their back-and-forth battle grew intense. On top of that, Li Wenyin’s identically titled movie had started filming, and its lead actors had their own traffic, so the matter drew considerable attention for a while.

Li Wenyin felt that although she’d been splattered with mud, she was quite satisfied and even welcoming of this uninvited traffic.

But on the fifteenth day of the New Year, as the holiday officially ended, the entertainment world was rocked by explosive news that instantly topped the hot searches:

Su Ke Arrested for Drug Trafficking.

Drug use was common in the industry, but trafficking was not. Who Su Ke was, whether he had any notable works, whether he was popular—none of that mattered.

What mattered was that he was the male lead in Li Wenyin's already-filming movie.

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