My Queen, My Rules - 8
Spending Freely
Back at home, Ji Mingshu had no idea that, for once in this lifetime, her bargain-bin husband was actually capable of saying something nice about her.
She went to bed early, but forgot to switch the humidifier before falling asleep. The room gradually dried out, and sometime in the night she woke up parched.
Still half asleep, eyes barely open, she stumbled out of her room and padded downstairs barefoot.
Back at Bocui Tianhua, there was a refrigerator in her bedroom. Getting a drink in the middle of the night was as easy as rolling out of bed.
Thinking of that only made her curse Cen Sen again. He hadn't even asked for her opinion, just dumped her back here and ran off to some business dinner. A real piece of work he was.
As luck would have it, the very piece of work chose that moment to return.
Unfortunately for him, Ji Mingshu was too sleepy and too thirsty to notice the figure standing by the entrance as she made her way downstairs.
Cen Sen had drunk quite a bit that evening. He'd already begun feeling the effects before the gathering ended, but his self-control was exceptional. Even drunk, he remained calm and composed, revealing nothing to anyone around him.
After changing his shoes in the foyer, he tilted his head slightly, watching the slender, graceful silhouette standing at the kitchen island.
A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Earlier, when he had dismissed that little actress with "Shu" in her name, he'd forgotten to mention two more words.
Her figure.
Looks, temperament, education, family background. She couldn't compare to Ji Mingshu in any way.
And neither could her figure.
Since his marriage, it wasn't the first time a woman had thrown herself at him, nor was it the first time he had turned someone down without hesitation.
They were all decorative vases. When you already own the rarest, most beautiful one, why collect inferior goods? He wasn't in the business of recycling junk.
Ji Mingshu had barely finished half a glass of ice water. Before she even had the chance to turn around, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped tightly around her waist from behind.
Her brain completely froze for three seconds. She set the glass down, twisted around, and the instant she did, Cen Sen captured her lips.
He pressed in relentlessly. His lips were warm, his kiss slow yet insistent, every breath carrying the unmistakable scent of alcohol.
Ji Mingshu tried to struggle, but he caught both her wrists and pinned them behind her back with one hand while the other cupped her chin, deepening the kiss with even more force and authority.
Damn it.
Did someone spike his drink?
She desperately searched for a chance to breathe. At first her legs were still free, but after she'd kicked him twice, Cen Sen simply lifted her onto the kitchen island. His body wedged against the counter, trapping her legs completely. Judging by the way he held her, he looked ready to take her right there.
"...You pervert! Let me go!"
After what felt like a full minute of being kissed senseless, Ji Mingshu finally found an opening. She drove her knee toward his lower body as hard as she could while wrenching one hand free, then shoved his face away with all her strength.
Forced back half a step, Cen Sen finally loosened his hold. Ji Mingshu had exhausted herself and slumped on the edge of the island, gasping for breath.
The overhead lights on the first floor were off. Only a ring of warm amber accent lighting illuminated the room.
In the dim glow, her dusty-pink silk nightdress shimmered softly against her porcelain skin. Her lips, thoroughly kissed, were swollen and glistening. She looked like some kind of ethereal enchantress, innocent and dangerously alluring, unconsciously luring people closer.
Cen Sen had clearly been lured in.
His finger slowly brushed across his lower lip as he looked at Ji Mingshu. Suddenly, he let out a soft, low laugh.
Ji Mingshu's instincts flared. She edged backward.
There was nowhere left to retreat. All she could do was watch as Cen Sen stepped forward and effortlessly swept her into his arms.
"What are you doing?! Put me down! You pervert! I'll report you for marital rape!"
She punched and kicked wildly all the way upstairs.
Unfortunately, Ji Mingshu maintained her figure through strict dieting rather than exercise. No matter how fiercely she struggled, to Cen Sen it felt little different from a kitten batting at him.
"Go ahead and report me. Didn't your Second Uncle just transfer back to the Beijing bureau this year? It'll be convenient." Cen Sen's voice was unhurried.
The smell of alcohol clung to him. His shirt collar had been pulled askew by her struggling, and with that casual smile, he looked every bit the polished gentleman hiding a thoroughly rotten nature beneath the surface.
Ji Mingshu flailed a couple more times, but just before they reached the bedroom, she suddenly froze.
Mixed with the tobacco and alcohol was a faint trace of an oddly familiar sweet perfume.
She recognized it almost immediately.
Just to be sure, she leaned in and sniffed again.
Yes. Definitely.
To Ji Mingshu, that perfume belonged squarely in the category of basic ‘young girl’ scent. Walk through any shopping mall and if it wasn't the most common scent you'd encounter, it would at least rank second, losing only to Chanel No. 5. She'd worn it once in high school, and her friends had immediately teased it for smelling like something a ‘green tea bitch’ would wear.
"Were you out fooling around with some innocent college girl? Where did that perfume come from? You sleep with another woman and then come home to touch me? Don't you think that's disgusting?"
The revulsion in her eyes was impossible to hide.
Cen Sen kicked the already-ajar bedroom door open, tossed her onto the bed, then leaned over her, bracing both hands on either side of her waist and caging her beneath him.
Ji Mingshu instinctively shrank backward.
His voice dropped low. "Has it been so long since you studied math? You can't even calculate time anymore? How long has it been since I dropped you off? Am I that fast?"
"..."
To say something so shameless with such complete confidence.
That really was a rare talent.
Ji Mingshu was rendered speechless by his logic.
Cen Sen made no further move. He stood, stripped off his shirt, and walked straight into the bathroom.
Ji Mingshu stared toward the bathroom for several seconds before lifting her nightdress and sniffing herself anxiously, afraid she had picked up the smells of smoke, alcohol, or that perfume she hated.
Soon, the steady rush of running water echoed from the bathroom. She slipped beneath the covers and thought it over carefully.
Actually, having been married to Cen Sen for this long, she already had a certain understanding of him.
He was the sort of man who possessed limitless ambition when it came to business, yet very little patience for women or romance.
She could believe he occasionally entertained himself when social situations required it, but keeping a mistress seemed unlikely. Maintaining an improper relationship demanded far too much time and effort for someone like him.
The thought prompted a bitter, self-mocking laugh. She remembered Gu Kaiyang's exasperated lecture before the wedding.
"Your only requirement for your husband is that he not keep a mistress? And that if he does, don’t let it cause a scandal that humiliates you?! You're a gorgeous, wealthy, educated woman. Must you be so pathetic???"
Looking back, it really was quite pathetic.
The Beijing Ji family was one of the country's true old-money dynasties. Growing up in that world, she'd seen more than enough to know that the wealthier the family, the darker the secrets hidden beneath the surface. Truly happy marriages were exceedingly rare in their circle. For political marriages like hers and Cen Sen's, simply maintaining the appearance of a loving couple in public was already an accomplishment.
Overall, she was fairly satisfied with Cen Sen.
He was handsome, excellent in bed, never clingy, and let her spend his money however she pleased.
As she drifted off to sleep, one last thought crossed her mind.
If things stayed like this forever, that would be perfectly fine. They didn't need to understand each other any better for the rest of their lives. Let's just muddle through together.
***
Soon, it was time for the annual Paris Autumn/Winter Haute Couture Week, and invitations from every major fashion house had arrived well in advance.
Ji Mingshu had been attending runway shows since she was eight years old. Raised amid unimaginable luxury, she'd cultivated impeccable taste, earning herself a reputation as one of the trendsetters among the elite socialites of Beijing and Shanghai.
Before leaving for Paris, she threw herself into preparations with boundless enthusiasm.
Every runway demanded a matching outfit from the same fashion house. She wasn't a celebrity, so she could skip the carefully staged airport look. But the afternoon tea, the dinner party, and her favorite, the high jewelry exhibition looks, were absolutely necessary.
In just two or three days, she had packed seven suitcases.
By her standards, that was traveling light. Several custom dresses were already waiting at the couture ateliers in Paris, ready for her to wear straight to the shows.
The prospect of another glorious shopping spree put her in an exceptionally good mood. Whenever she saw Cen Sen over the next few days, she even greeted him with a bright smile.
Cen Sen couldn't understand the peculiar joys of someone whose greatest occupation was looking beautiful.
But he did know one thing.
Every time Ji Mingshu returned from Fashion Week abroad, she always came back with at least twice as much luggage as she'd left with.
And throughout the trip, alerts from his charge card would appear with remarkable frequency, serving as constant reminders that the extravagant canary he'd married possessed a truly unrivaled talent in the art of spending money.
When Cen Sen graduated from university, Old Master Cen had given him a Gulfstream jet as a graduation present. He rarely used it himself, but after marrying Ji Mingshu, she certainly knew how to make the full use of it.
Taking the private jet to Paris late at night, Ji Mingshu slept a solid eleven hours on the plane. When she finally woke, dawn was only just breaking over Paris.
A chauffeured car waited at the airport. By the time she reached the hotel, her suite's butler had already prepared fresh coffee and an elaborate breakfast, while invitations and gifts from the various fashion houses had been arranged into the shape of a heart.
The suite had been selected in advance by her butler and matched every one of her personalized requests. There was even a thoughtful surprise. The room number was her birthday, and her English name had been discreetly embroidered into the corner of the bedding.
After breakfast, Ji Mingshu changed into another outfit and headed out for a shopping trip.
As she went downstairs, she remembered Gu Kaiyang and decided to video call her for a chat.
As deputy editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, Gu Kaiyang naturally couldn't miss fashion week. But she was traveling with her team and had arrived two days earlier.
When Ji Mingshu's call came through, Gu Kaiyang was in the middle of personally inspecting the details of more than a dozen gowns scheduled for an upcoming photo shoot.
She'd been run ragged for two days straight, dizzy with exhaustion. Seeing Ji Mingshu on the screen, radiant in her oversized sunglasses, and leisurely strolling downstairs after breakfast, she exploded with envy.
"I swear I'll never criticize you rich girls and your arranged marriages again. You have no idea how good you have it!"
"Do you know what it's like? This poor working girl hasn't slept in two days! Seriously, you can't even imagine how cheap our company is! It’s so ridiculous, before I got promoted, they were surprisingly generous. Editors at this level always got suites. But somehow the moment it's my turn, I get stuck in a standard room! There are clothes piled everywhere. I can't even find a place to step! If they get any stingier, they might as well make us sleep under a bridge!"
"I'm serious. I don't even want to work anymore! At this point I'd even marry into a sham marriage if it meant never working again!"
Ji Mingshu: "Hold on. Who exactly are you saying in marrying into a sham marriage?"
Gu Kaiyang: "That's what you always say. Don't blame me."
Ji Mingshu was just about to argue when a familiar figure drifted into the corner of her vision.
Gu Kaiyang was still chattering away on the other end of the call. Ji Mingshu slowed her steps almost imperceptibly and quietly switched to the rear camera, aiming it toward the elegantly dressed man and woman checking in at the hotel reception.
Right on cue, a bloodcurdling scream erupted through her earbuds from Gu Kaiyang.
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