My Queen, My Rules - 85

Ji Mingshu's lavish giveaway, further amplified by Junyi's generous add-on, quickly propelled the promotional video to trending topics. The number of shares broke ten thousand in no time.

The crew of Vestiges: Street Impressions saw the post. Before their eyes, a rapid-fire stream of mental subtitles flashed: Our budget is burning alive! Someone save the children!!!

The art and post-production teams stormed into the producer's office, indignantly demanding why he'd wasted funds on such a pointless, flashy stunt.

The producer was stunned, then issued a triple denial: Wasn't me! Not me! I'm innocent! What extra budget do we even have?!

After everyone calmed down, they realized… they truly didn’t have any.

So, this promotion was orchestrated by the designer herself? Not impossible. After all, it was common knowledge that this designer was the Junyi CEO's wife.

The CEO's wife truly loves her art. Respect!

While the rest of the crew happily accepted this narrative and rejoiced in the heaven-sent publicity, the producer remained skeptical. He personally called Ji Mingshu to confirm.

He simply couldn't reconcile it. This was the same Ji Mingshu who had needed teams of lawyers to negotiate her appearance and design fees four or five times over, scrutinizing every clause, terrified that the production might cheat her out of a single penny. Why would she, after filming wrapped, selflessly slit her own wrist to bleed money? This deserved a spot in the annual “Most Baffling Behavior” awards.

During the call, the producer tactfully voiced his confusion. Ji Mingshu responded with equal tact.

The producer fell silent, finally understanding. Put bluntly, her message was: It's not about the fee; it's about my worth. The giveaway money is pocket change to me. You think I care about the pittance you paid?

Mhm. The CEO's wife truly loves her art. Respect!

In ancient times, heavy rewards produced brave warriors.

In the 21st century, heavy rewards produced trending topics.

It took less than half a day for shares of Ji Mingshu's promotional post to skyrocket from ten thousand to a hundred thousand, racing toward two hundred thousand. The comments underneath also surged rapidly.

[I can't even! The CEO's wife is making her moves!] [Beauty overload warning! Birkin warning!]

[Fine, fine! It's just a documentary! I'll watch it! Waiting for the CEO's wife's next post! (Pitiful.jpg)]

[A woman possesses beauty and intelligence—and she also possesses wealth!] [You're wrong. She also possesses a 24/7 doting CEO husband. /doge]

Although Ji Mingshu wasn't a celebrity or internet influencer, she was a natural topic generator. After lying low for over half a year, this single post was not only widely shared but also sparked discussions about “socialites” and “white-rich-beautiful” types across major forums.

Insiders couldn't help leaking: Ji Mingshu is a legit mega-wealthy fairy!

That three-minute video? A rough version could be shot with a phone on a tripod; a polished one might need a ring light. But the CEO's wife hired a team of over ten people—makeup, hair, lighting, angles, editing, the full package. Every second on screen was meticulously crafted, exquisite from her hair down to her toenails!

Netizens clutched their hearts and declared: I'll never call myself an exquisite piggy girl again. So humble.

Ji Mingshu had merely intended to promote the show. She didn't expect the various spin-off revelations to sustain the hype for a solid two to three days.

Just as the buzz was finally dying down over the weekend, someone from the industry suddenly surfaced, leaking a photo of Cen Sen from a recent Asia-Pacific Financial Asset Management Summit.

In the photo, Cen Sen sat in the front row, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and thin gold-rimmed glasses, legs crossed, leaning back in his chair. He exuded elite sophistication; his aloof, untouchable aura seemed to seep through the screen.

[Okay! This CEO has my approval! From now on, all the overbearing ‘CEO falls for me’ stories I read have a face!!!] [What god-tier visuals do this couple possess? Wuwuwu, the domineering CEO couple is just too good to ship!!!]

[Seriously, can the domineering CEO couple just debut as a CP? With these looks, this aura, these figures—not doing so is a criminal waste!!]

Some also dug out Ji Mingshu's New Year's Eve post where she was showing off their affection, placing the photo of their hands holding sparklers next to this newly leaked frontal shot, brainwashing everyone into chanting: [Look at our CEO! Cold-faced in meetings, but at home doting on his wife, holding hands to light sparklers! It's pure sugar, sisters!!!]

Some went even further, turning his conference photo into a meme: [Hurry up and finish your blabbering. I need to go home and light sparklers with my wife.jpg]

For a time, major forums were flooded with sparkler warnings.

The frontal photo leak was sudden and didn't come through official media. By the time Cen Sen found out, it was already widespread.

He genuinely disliked exposing his private life publicly. However, having learned the lesson from Ji Mingshu's second uncle's heavy-handed public opinion control during the last scandal, he didn't order any major countermeasures, planning to let the hype die down naturally in a couple of days before slowly cleaning up the traces.

Hearing his plan, Ji Mingshu viewed him with newfound respect.

She'd assumed this old relic's understanding of the internet was only a tad better than her second uncle's. It seemed that he was quite savvy after all.

Speaking of being a relic, Ji Mingshu had some preconceived misconceptions about Cen Sen.

While not an avid social media user, Cen Sen wasn't completely ignorant of online dynamics.

The Junyi official Weibo's timely addition to Ji Mingshu's giveaway had his approval.

He had also been checking Ji Mingshu's Weibo these past few days, reading the comments carefully.

One comment with middling likes caught his attention. [Why is the number of posts on the CEO's wife's profile different from the number we can actually see?]

A reply below said: [That's because she set some posts to “Friends Only” or “Private.”]

Cen Sen silently filed away this new piece of knowledge.

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Speaking of which, Ji Mingshu's promotional efforts were remarkably effective. The previously obscure Vestiges: Street Impressions attracted a large young audience thanks to her.

Many initially tuned in just to gawk at Ji Mingshu's stunning looks. But after one episode, viewers found the documentary's content wasn't boring at all.

Moreover, in the professional field of interior design, Ji Mingshu was no mere decorative prop used for prestige.

The show revealed that she genuinely had ideas and strong opinions. Most commendably was her growth from Designer's Abode to this documentary, she had learned to consider others.

In Designer's Abode, Ji Mingshu was completely dominant, very forceful with her team members.

In this show, she was also the lead designer. The other designers were less outwardly assertive and tended to follow her lead. But in such moments, she would pause, switch roles to become a listener, and consult their opinions. This aspect earned her much favor.

The premiere aired two episodes back-to-back. If the first was more technical, the second was more lifelike, as it covered the residential building renovation.

The episode opened with scenes of daily life on Hustreet: residents bargaining at markets, playing mahjong. Once the renovation theme began, conflict arose.

The aunties and uncles argued heatedly over the use of half a square meter of public space.

Their arguments were quite philosophical, each sticking to their own point, refusing to yield. Ji Mingshu, the interior designer, stood in a corner for a long time, unable to get a word in, her face wearing an expression of weak, pitiful, and helpless.

Comments during this segment surged: [Why is the CEO's wife suddenly so adorable hahahaha!] [I've discovered this is actually a deadpan comedy documentary.] [CEO's wife: I'm a bit lost. Who am I? Where am I? What did I do wrong?] [CEO's wife: Aunties, uncles, please stop arguing! I'll buy this half square meter myself!!]

The premiere was well-received, with viewership and discussion rates far exceeding the production team's expectations.

Ji Mingshu gained another wave of fans on the spot; her follower count quietly reached three million.

Meanwhile, the reality dating show Gu Kaiyang participated in had already aired its third week.

Dating shows naturally spark more discussion topics than documentaries. The online popularity had been good since the first episode.

In the first two weeks, Gu Kaiyang wasn't favored by male guests nor particularly popular with viewers.

Gu Kaiyang was quiet, often silently observing in the background. Other female guests showed interest in their chosen men, but Gu Kaiyang radiated a “I don't need a boyfriend” and “I'm not interested in any of them” vibe.

But after the third episode aired the segment revealing the guests' backgrounds, Gu Kaiyang's image instantly did a complete 180-degree reversal.

This quiet, unassuming sister was actually the Deputy Editor-in-Chief of Zero Degree!

Eagle-eyed viewers also spotted a teaser in the bonus clips: the next episode would introduce a fourth male guest, who seemed to have a romantic storyline with Gu Kaiyang.

Online, everyone eagerly dug for clues and details, but the show's progress lagged far behind reality.

By the end of filming, Gu Kaiyang hadn't found a match. She had rejected Zhou Jiaheng's final confession.

Of course, the actual situation wasn't like that—

In truth, Gu Kaiyang had taken quite a liking to the newly arrived fourth male guest, her old acquaintance Zhou Jiaheng. The issue was, Zhou Jiaheng didn't feel the same spark.

Zhou Jiaheng preferred gentle, petite women. Gu Kaiyang's independent, strong career-woman type was completely opposite to his ideal. They could be friends, but not lovers.

As for the final on-screen confession and rejection, it was a pre-arranged script with the production team to save the woman's face.

After filming, Gu Kaiyang was down for a few days.

Jiang Chun couldn't understand it: [Why follow the script? If he confesses, just say yes! Confuse the hell out of him!!!] Gu Kaiyang: [?] Gu Kaiyang: [Girl, that's a bit too crude.]

Like Jiang Chun, Ji Mingshu also couldn't fathom it. Her best friend was the best woman in the world! How could any man not be interested?! Especially Zhou Jiaheng! It made no sense. She secretly planned to go to the company and give him trouble.

Gu Kaiyang was practically a worm in her belly. Before Ji Mingshu could make a move, she explicitly told her not to abuse her power for personal revenge against Zhou Jiaheng, saying that feelings can't be forced.

Ji Mingshu felt aggrieved. Unable to take it out on Zhou Jiaheng, she could only take it out on Cen Sen.

Unaware of the Zhou Jiaheng–Gu Kaiyang situation and being picked on for two days for no apparent reason, Cen Sen assumed Ji Mingshu's period was due and she was in a bad mood.

Ji Mingshu's cycle often dragged on for a week. Facing a week of abstinence, Cen Sen arranged a dense aerobic schedule beforehand.

Ji Mingshu felt she was truly outstanding at digging a hole and burying herself in it.

Waking up, she was utterly drained. Even after Cen Sen made breakfast, she remained limp, needing him to help her brush her teeth, wash her face, and get dressed.

Even going downstairs for breakfast, she habitually acted spoiled, demanding to be carried. And she was carried down in the utterly mortifying position of facing him, legs wrapped around his waist.

Since they were already clingy to this point, she didn't mind being even more so. Throughout breakfast, she sat on Cen Sen's lap, playing with her phone while he fed her.

Everything was fine initially; Cen Sen seemed to enjoy the feeding process. But after a sip of plain milk, Ji Mingshu suddenly felt a bit queasy. That faint milky smell churned her stomach. Without a word of explanation, she put down her phone, slid off his lap, and rushed to the bathroom.

Cen Sen, thinking she had a stomach ache, didn't overthink it. Glancing at her phone left on the table, he picked it up to look.

Ji Mingshu's phone was on her Weibo interface. She had just posted a new update, set to “Private.”

[I love my husband so much! I love it when he carries me! /shy/shy/shy]

Cen Sen paused, remembering the question he'd seen in her comments before. Subconsciously, he scrolled down.

[How can that big trotter not like our Gu Gu! So mad! Birds of a feather flock together, so Cen-shi Sensen is also a big trotter!] [Sigh, why haven't I gotten pregnant with a baby yet qvq] [Third day on business trip, miss him miss him miss him tvt] [Sometimes I feel so lucky. I hope we can stay together forever and ever o.o!] …

The earliest private post dated back to New Year's, right next to her slightly more reserved public New Year's Eve post showing affection.

[Ahhhh he said he likes me! This must be the happiest day of my life! I, Ji-shi Shushu, am definitely the world's luckiest little fairy!!!]

Reading this, Cen Sen smiled.

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Author's Note:

Little Golden Canary Baby: Stop smiling, damn it! This baby is puking up bile!

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