My Queen, My Rules - 89

In elementary school, teachers would ask during class meetings what everyone wanted to be when they grew up. Jiang Chun figured that was probably the moment when scientists enjoyed the highest profile, aside from winning a Nobel Prize.

Kids are so pure. Once they grow up a bit, they realize that scientists don't make much money, can't afford luxury cars or mansions, and are stuck in labs day after day doing great but mind-numbingly tedious work. And 99.9% of that greatness will probably never be known to anyone.

So, by middle school class meetings, you'd hear a bunch of clueless, starry-eyed kids aspiring to be the "richest person in the world."

Compared to those tycoon-to-bes, Jiang Chun felt a small swell of pride. She considered herself just as pure and steadfast in her focus. Ever since elementary school, her one and only dream had been to become a landlady—to go door-to-door every month with a burlap sack, collecting rent.

Heaven, perhaps moved by her purity and steadfastness, made her dream come true in her second year of middle school. No special reason—just dumb luck and a dad who knew how to hustle.

Their family's tiny, backwater fishing village got earmarked for development. Her father, Jiang Hongtao, was faced with two options: a huge cash payout plus one apartment, or less cash plus several buildings. With remarkable foresight, he chose the latter.

Back then, the real estate market was nothing like today's. Those buildings were in the middle of nowhere, in a suburb so remote even ghosts wouldn't rent there.

No one could have predicted that this very suburb would later transform into prime real estate worth its weight in gold. Nor that Jiang Chun would seamlessly transition from a fishing village's "local rich girl" to the heiress of a Shenzhen magnate.

Heiress Jiang Chun once thought she’d reached the pinnacle of life. But even more unexpectedly, her dad was too good at hustling. Within a decade, he leveraged that initial windfall to build a restaurant empire. Ambitiously, he moved the whole family to the Capital, bludgeoning his way through the old-money aristocracy's gates with sheer financial firepower.

Naturally, Jiang Chun leveled up again, becoming a nouveau riche socialite in the capital.

The problem was, her own "refinement" in every conceivable area was severely lacking. The self-proclaimed elegant, old-money socialites looked down on her. Very few actually gave her the time of day.

This resulted in her first few years in the capital being quite miserable. She had pockets full of cash but no real happiness, and was naive enough to be led into making a spectacular fool of herself on multiple occasions.

The crowning jewel of these humiliations was probably the time she caught her fiancé, Yan Yu, cheating with a little white lotus starlet. To protect his new flame, Yan Yu publicly turned on Jiang Chun and humiliated her on the spot.

She had to admit that was probably the most humiliating moment of her life, the one she least wanted to revisit.

She’d always thought Yan Yu was different from the others in this circle. He was gentle, considerate, sunny, understanding, and, most importantly, he never looked down on her.

It was only later that she discovered the Yan family's fortunes were in decline. Yan Yu had only agreed to their engagement to get his hands on her father's wealth. In reality, he looked down on her so much he couldn’t even bear to sleep with her. And she, fool that she was, had mistaken his reluctance for old-fashioned respect.

After experiencing a world-class scumbag like Yan Yu, Jiang Chun temporarily lost faith in love. She channeled her limited energy into cultivating new friendships.

In a way, misfortune brought fortune. The very scene of her catching Yan Yu was witnessed by Ji Mingshu, a core figure in the capital's socialite scene. Ji Mingshu, outraged on Jiang Chun's behalf, struck up a series of comebacks in her defense, and that's how the two became close friends.

Ironically, Jiang Chun used to despise Ji Mingshu. Partly due to others’ influence, but also because Ji Mingshu always carried herself with a haughty, dismissive air, capable of rendering someone speechless with a single, well-aimed barb, leaving them unable to eat for three meals.

But once they became friends, Jiang Chun viewed all of Ji Mingshu's formerly irritating behaviors through a "bestie filter." She genuinely believed Ji Mingshu was the most beautiful, most adorable, kindest-hearted girl in the world. Men, in contrast, were all smelly, unreliable pigs.

That is, until Tang Zhizhou entered the picture.

Tang Zhizhou was the new blind date her father, Jiang Hongtao, arranged for her. Jiang Hongtao sang the Tang family's praises, calling them a legendary family of scholars and doctors dating back to the Republican era, producing a string of illustrious figures.

This generation was no less impressive. Tang Zhizhou's grandfather was a medical luminary, his father a bigwig in the education bureau, his uncle an academician at the Chinese Academy of Sciences, his younger uncle a leading figure in traditional mystery novels, and his mother the vice-chair of the Writers' Association and a renowned author…

The black sheep of the family was apparently some cousin who'd rebelliously dropped out of school young. Even he was now the founder of a major online literature platform.

As for Tang Zhizhou himself, he was a prodigy, straight out of a university gifted youth program. He’d already earned his Ph.D. in Computer Science from Stanford at a young age, and was now the youngest professor in a top-tier university’s computer science school, heading their AI lab, a rising star in artificial intelligence. His future was limitless.

After listening to this recitation of his hyper-accomplished family, Jiang Chun was dumbstruck for half a minute before finally managing to ask, “Is he bald?”

Jiang Hongtao, still lost in visions of this stellar son-in-law, shot her a look. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

Jiang Chun: “Is he ugly, then?”

“Ugly? He's 1.85 meters tall! Refined, clean-cut, a real looker! I think this young Tang is excellent!” Jiang Hongtao even gestured to emphasize the height.

Jiang Chun was silent for a moment. “Dad, just tell me the truth. I can take it, depending on what it is.”

“?”

“Is he divorced? Impotent? A domestic abuser or a drug addict? Or… does he just not like women?”

Jiang Hongtao was baffled by the questions. Coming back to his senses, he poked her forehead. “What on earth do you think about all day instead of doing anything useful? You're my only daughter! Would I push you into a pit of fire?!”

“No, it's just… with a family background that good, why would he agree to a blind date with me? He could have his pick of any socialite.” Jiang Chun dodged, rubbing the sore spot, puzzled.

Jiang Hongtao stood up, hands on hips, then finally laughed in exasperation. “I never knew you had such self-awareness.”

Jiang Chun sat meekly, eyes lowered. “When all you have is money and nothing else, you'd better have some self-awareness.”

Jiang Hongtao pointed at her, sputtering for a good while before managing, “You have all this money and you're still not satisfied, you ungrateful brat!”

Jiang Chun rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She thought her father and Ji Mingshu would have a lot to talk about if they ever sat down for a chat. They were both staunch believers in the theory that ‘there's nothing money can't solve, and if there is, you just didn't have enough.’

But this time, her dad really wasn’t lying. Tang Zhizhou was the real deal: born into a scholarly family, handsome, rich, with sky-high IQ and EQ, unmarried, no kids, no bad habits—a top-tier catch.

As for why the Tang family would consider a match with their nouveau riche family, it traced back to Old Master Tang receiving help from her father in Shenzhen years ago.

Coincidentally, the charity her father had anonymously donated to for years was helmed by a member of the Tang family. Old Master Tang decided her father was a businessman with integrity and, by extension, assumed his daughter must also be a person of fine character, and thus proactively arranged the meeting.

On the day of the blind date, Tang Zhizhou wore a light grey, striped casual shirt and a simple platinum watch on his wrist.

His skin was fair, his features clean and defined; it was a handsome, refined face with just the right edges. Even sitting quietly in the living room, he commanded attention.

Especially those deep, dark eyes. Combined with the slight quirk of his thin lips, that almost-smile… when his gaze swept over her, it felt like he could see right through her.

Jiang Chun's heart muttered complaints. He didn't seem like an AI researcher; he felt more like a psychologist.

The meeting started with a family dinner. Afterwards, the elders urged her and Tang Zhizhou to go out shopping.

From start to finish, Tang Zhizhou was the picture of courtesy and good breeding. He took her for coffee, then to the supermarket, and finally exchanged WeChat contacts with her. Every detail was perfectly, impeccably handled.

Yet after the date, Jiang Chun felt dejected.

A guy this good-looking and this considerate probably didn’t lack for girlfriends. He was likely just showing up to humor his grandfather. She figured her chances were basically zero.

Later, when she recounted the date to Ji Mingshu, she discovered that her "perfect" meeting had actually contained a major, cringe-worthy faux pas that she'd been completely oblivious to.

When Tang Zhizhou asked her which painters she liked, she'd offhandedly said she really liked all of the Eight Great Masters. She’d heard Ji Mingshu say her husband collected Eight Great Masters paintings once, so they must be a formidable group of painters.

Later, at the supermarket, trying to sound sophisticated, she'd commented that she couldn't find her favorite type of pear here, called shi-duo-pi li.

She had, completely unaware, delivered a double-whammy of pretentious fails.

Recalling the earth-shattering cringe of it all, she had to give Tang Zhizhou credit for not laughing in her face. Her heart sank into despair. She sent him a WeChat message to confess her sins.

Jiang Chun: [You must have been dying trying not to laugh today…]

Jiang Chun: [Sorry for making a fool of myself in front of you, my bad TvT]

She expected him to offer a polite “it’s fine,” after which they could delete each other and never meet again.

To her surprise, Tang Zhizhou replied: [I think you’re very cute. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl quite like you before.]

Jiang Chun strongly suspected he meant ‘I’ve never met a girl this dumb before.’

Jiang Chun: [Well, now you have…]

Tang Zhizhou: [En. It was my pleasure.]

Speechless. So much for polite mutual flattery.

Jiang Chun flopped back onto her bed. Her phone unexpectedly chimed twice more. Tang Zhizhou had sent a voice message.

“I have a public lecture tomorrow morning. Would you like to come listen?”

His voice on the recording was low, mellow, gentle, carrying a hint of imperceptible allure.

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