My Queen, My Rules - 98

At half past ten in the morning, the bell signaling the end of the exam rang precisely, a prolonged, urgent jangling that felt like a death knell. Ji Mingshu rushed to scribble the final paragraph of her essay, slashed a perfunctory period at the end of the paper, and let out a long sigh of relief.

The proctor stood at the podium, directing the zigzag collection of papers. Ji Mingshu leaned back in her chair, lazily rubbing her wrist as she gazed out the window.

Her seat was by the window, facing the brick-red building housing the senior year classrooms. The empty room of Senior Class 18 was faintly visible. After a moment, she withdrew her gaze.

Only Chinese had been tested this morning. After the exam, the corridors buzzed with students comparing answers.

Surrounded by her friends as they walked out, Ji Mingshu seemed listless, responding with only monosyllables.

"Shushu, what's wrong?" a friend asked with concern.

Ji Mingshu shook her head. "Nothing. Just a bit hungry."

"Didn't you eat breakfast?"

Ji Mingshu couldn't help complaining, "The exam started at nine! When did I have time?"

"Exactly! It ended at 10:30, and the next one isn't until 2 pm. Why not just start at nine? The school is so annoying!" her friend agreed, linking arms with her as they descended the steps at the building's main entrance. "I almost didn't make it either, but I grabbed a bun on the way out. Want to hit the snack bar now?"

Before her friend finished speaking, a male voice called from behind, "Ji Mingshu!"

The boy held his head slightly high. A basketball hit the ground with a thump before he smoothly tucked it under his arm. He smiled, slightly breathless, and stepped forward. "You didn't eat? There's a new Japanese place outside school. My treat."

The boy was tall, athletic, with a clean, sunny look—a complete stranger. Her friend, used to this, whispered teasingly, "The third one this month."

Ji Mingshu shot her a look to shut her up.

Just as Ji Mingshu was about to formulate a rejection, another voice called out loudly from behind, "Hey, little Shushu!"

The tone was lazy, tinged with teasing.

Yet Ji Mingshu instinctively turned.

Her friend was quicker, leaning in to whisper a timely reminder, "Your Cen Sen gege is here.”

They had just finished a P.E. test. The group of boys was sweaty. Cen Sen and Jiang Che lagged at the back. Aside from their slightly damp dark hair, a testament to their recent exertion, they looked perfectly normal.

The two seemed deep in conversation, trading remarks back and forth. Finally, Jiang Che nudged his chin, and Cen Sen stopped talking, his gaze landing on her.

The midsummer morning sun was fierce, the sky glaringly bright. Even though Ji Mingshu stood on the steps, Cen Sen, looking up from below, somehow managed to exude a towering, dominant aura.

The basketball-toting boy, confused by the situation, added to the chaos. "The head chef at that Japanese place is actually Japanese. It's really authentic. Let's go?"

Ji Mingshu ignored him, her eyes still fixed on Cen Sen.

Cen Sen was two years older. Though somewhat aloof by nature, he had always been good to her. As a child, she used to follow her "Cen Sen gege" around all day long, even insisting on sleeping in his bed at night.

As she grew older and learned about boundaries between boys and girls, she became too embarrassed to cling so obviously. But they remained close, and she still relied on him deeply.

He had helped her move into her junior high and high school dorms, took her on his bike to go home together on weekends, and even bought her first sanitary pads when she got her first period.

Her mother had passed away early. While her aunt and uncle were kind, they weren't her birth parents and didn't pay such close attention to her physical changes. When she first got her period, she thought she had a terminal, bleeding disease and hid in her room crying. It was Cen Sen who found her first, calmed her down, and then, steeling himself, went to the corner store to buy her pads.

Unfortunately, he ran into Jiang Che, Shu Yang, and the others right as he was buying them. They not only teased him mercilessly but also loudly declared that his level of attentiveness was like raising his own child bride.

Ji Mingshu had overheard their jokes more than once.

Cen Sen always brushed them off, saying they were annoying. But in her heart, she actually thought… being Cen Sen gege's child bride didn't sound so bad.

...

A few days ago, she had whined and pleaded for Cen Sen to give her a last-minute crash course in math before the exam. He finally agreed. But then she'd gone to a friend's birthday party and forgotten to do the practice test. When Cen Sen found out, he gave her a cold, harsh scolding. Initially feeling guilty, she soon spiraled into feeling wronged. They hadn't spoken in two days, hadn't even seen each other.

Now, Cen Sen was as steady and calm as ever. Seeing someone ask her out, his expression remained unruffled. Annoyed, she didn't answer the lunch invitation, just clutched the strap of her bag and walked forward, eyes straight ahead. The boy immediately followed.

But as she passed Cen Sen, he suddenly reached out and gently grasped her wrist.

"I went home last night to get clothes. I brought you braised pork ribs."

He carried the faint, pleasant scent of fir, mild and clean, just like his voice.

Then he added, "I made them."

Her body, betraying her not-so-firm resolve, swayed and turned. Lifting her eyes slightly, she met Cen Sen's clear, dark pupils.

She didn't walk away.

...

Ji Mingshu trailed behind Cen Sen, head drooping like a puppy who, after a sulk with its owner, had finally been appeased.

Cen Sen, holding the container of ribs, glanced back at her. "Something to drink?"

Ji Mingshu mumbled, "Cola."

"Soda isn't good for you."

Ji Mingshu: "Coffee then."

"You have an exam this afternoon. Coffee will keep you from napping at lunch."

"Then... milk?"

"Mm."

Cen Sen bought her a carton of milk from the snack bar, even thoughtfully inserting the straw for her.

After ordering food, they sat facing each other. Ji Mingshu, for some reason, felt awkward and avoided looking at him, focusing intently on the ribs.

Cen Sen, however, was composed as usual. "How was the Chinese exam?"

"Okay, I guess," she said, still head-down. "The essay prompt was weird. I struggled with it."

"What was the topic?"

"The friendship of gentlemen... is as... bland as water? Or is it 'the friendship of gentlemen is as insipid as water'? I forgot. The whole time I was writing, I kept wondering what gentlemen and mating had to do with each other..."

Cen Sen paused. "Are you sure it wasn't 'the friendship of gentlemen is as pure as water'?"

"Ah—!" The rib she'd just picked up plopped back into the bowl.

Ji Mingshu looked up, horrified. "I don't know! I didn't read it clearly! Will I get a zero on the essay? They're having a parent-teacher conference after this round of exams! If I fail Chinese, my uncle will kill me! What do I do...?"

She was frantic.

Cen Sen suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question. "What did you call me?"

Ji Mingshu froze.

A few days ago, at her friend's birthday party, the girls said that calling him "Cen Sen gege" in high school had certain… ambiguous implications. It would hinder him from finding a girlfriend and her from finding a boyfriend.

At the time, the thought of Cen Sen eventually looking for a girlfriend made her uncomfortable. But she had to admit her friends had a point. So, during their math tutoring session, she told him she wanted to change how she addressed him. She couldn't even remember how he responded now, only that the conversation devolved into their fight over the unfinished practice problems.

"What did you call me?" Cen Sen asked again.

Ji Mingshu looked at him, hesitated, then whispered, "Cen Sen."

For a moment, his eyes seemed to thaw, suddenly softening.

"Eat first," he said, pausing. "About the essay... I'll think of something."

---

The day to hand back exams and post results arrived swiftly.

Before the papers were returned, Ji Mingshu clung to a sliver of hope: Maybe the teacher was blind and didn't notice I misread the topic? Or maybe, seeing I racked my brains to fill 800 characters, they'll mercifully give me a passing, if not high, score?

But when the paper landed on her desk, the single red-circled word "Off-Topic" on the essay section shattered that fantasy completely.

During Chinese class, the teacher used her as an example, sternly criticizing the common problem of careless exam reading, then expanding it into an issue of learning attitude.

Ji Mingshu spun her pen idly, wearing a perfect "Go ahead and lecture, I'll be damned if I listen" expression, masterfully feigning nonchalance.

The reality was, not only had she massively botched the Chinese essay, but she'd also crashed and burned in every other subject.

With a parent-teacher conference scheduled for next week, she could already vividly picture the scene at home: her uncle and her other uncle, neither wanting to lose face at the conference, would engage in an epic blame-shifting battle over who would have to attend.

If they just bickered and passed the buck, that would be one thing. The key issue was, after their brotherly dispute, they would unite and turn their spears on her, listing her ten great crimes and critiquing them one by one in categorized detail.

Ji Mingshu quietly fretted all day, dragging herself to the last period—the weekly class meeting on Friday. Per tradition, the homeroom teacher would distribute parent-teacher conference invitations. Familiar with the drill, the class was already buzzing about it.

But after summarizing the exam results, the homeroom teacher suddenly braced his hands on the podium and announced, "One more thing. The grade level has decided to postpone next week's parent-teacher conference."

A wave of applause and cheers erupted instantly, mixed with excited chatter.

The teacher adjusted his glasses and slapped the podium authoritatively. "Quiet!" He straightened up, clasping his hands behind his back. "Postponed doesn't mean canceled forever! We'll definitely have one after the third monthly exam! These are your own scores! No conference doesn't mean you didn't do poorly!"

Though the teacher was right, a better saying existed—Cross that bridge when we come to it. One more day of survival is a win.

The moment the final bell rang, the classroom exploded into noise.

"Why the sudden cancellation?" "Who cares why? It's good news!" "Thank goodness. I feel like… like I've narrowly escaped death, you know? Really scared me." "Hey, I heard the head of the senior year came to hassle our grade head today. You think it's related to the conference?"

Hearing this piece of gossip, Ji Mingshu's ears perked up, and she slowed her packing.

"Hassle him?" "The principal was there too. Didn't you know?" "No, what happened?" "Not sure. Let me ask Dong Liang."

Dong Liang was the class sports rep and the resident know-it-all. In no time, he'd darted off to another class for intel and zipped back.

Dong Liang had a crush on Ji Mingshu. Seeming to want to show off his resourcefulness in front of his crush, he plopped down near her after returning, tilting his chin slightly in her direction and announcing casually to the group, "Actually, no big deal. It's just those fussy seniors in the honors class. They complained our freshman building is too noisy and disrupting their college prep. Those folks are treated like royalty now, so the school decided to postpone the conference. They're even installing soundproofing or something for them. And we're not allowed to be loud during breaks anymore."

"Oh, that's why," everyone murmured in understanding.

Actually, it was tradition for the First Teaching Building to remain mostly unused, because the distance between it and the Third Teaching Building was so small that any noise from one easily carried to the other. But the Qinsi Building, which usually served its purpose, was under renovation this year, forcing the school to reopen the First Building.

Rumors of senior year complaints had surfaced when they reopened it. With exams looming, their concerns were understandable—it was noisy. Now that the conference was cancelled, no one really held it against the seniors.

But Ji Mingshu felt it couldn't be that simple. Though she packed her bag distractedly, she didn't miss a word. The moment Dong Liang mentioned "senior honors class," she immediately connected it to Cen Sen's "I'll think of something."

So, this was his solution?

After school, at the bike shed. Cen Sen naturally took Ji Mingshu's backpack and gave an "Mm" in answer to her question.

A little thrill ran through Ji Mingshu. She clasped her hands behind her back, fingers linked. As Cen Sen pushed his bike over a speed bump, she hopped and skipped ahead on her tiptoes. Once they were on level ground, she automatically settled sideways onto the rear seat.

Cen Sen's posture stiffened slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing unnaturally.

Ji Mingshu didn't notice, habitually wrapping her arms around his waist.

Cen Sen: "Let go."

Ji Mingshu was stunned, but her body reacted faster than her brain. She obediently let go, hands hovering mid-air, unsure whether to put them behind her back or raise them in surrender.

Cen Sen: "Get off."

Ji Mingshu obediently dismounted.

A vague sense of guilt washed over her. Just as she began frantically searching her memory for any offense she might have caused or any secret mischief he might have discovered, Cen Sen dismounted as well.

He stood before her, lowered his gaze, and slowly, meticulously tied his school uniform jacket around her waist.

His voice was equally slow, meticulous, and carried a hard-to-define emotion. "Don't shorten your uniform skirt anymore."

Ji Mingshu looked up. For a second, she thought she could define that emotion. The late summer evening wind carried an occasional coolness from the lake. She asked deliberately, "Why? Aren't my legs nice to look at?"

Cen Sen shot her a glance, pushed his bike forward, and said mildly, "Exactly because they are, they shouldn't be for others to see."

Ji Mingshu stood frozen for a few seconds. When his meaning sank in, her cheeks burned. She caught up to him, her steps light with glee, though her words were a complaint. "You're so annoying. So controlling."

Cen Sen ignored her gripe, simply warning, "Sit properly. It's a downhill slope."

Ji Mingshu sat properly, her hands lightly resting on his waist. It was their long-standing, unspoken ritual. On downhills, she would hold onto Cen Sen tightly, leaning against his back. That never seemed enough; sometimes she'd secretly rub her cheek against him, other times she'd deliberately poke him with her chin. The slope stretched ahead, seemingly endless, and for a fleeting moment, a strange wish crossed her mind—that the road ahead truly had no end.

---

Early morning. Pale gold sunlight fell in beams through the leaves, carrying the warmth of early summer.

As summer settled in, temperatures rose. Ji Mingshu, too lazy to carry her school blazer, now left her dorm wearing only the white short-sleeve shirt with its light blue collar.

The short-sleeve was the affiliated school's summer uniform. The collar had three buttons. Ji Mingshu fastened them, then unfastened them again. It felt too tight around her neck, and her chest also felt uncomfortably constricted.

She had twenty minutes before morning self-study started. Walking downstairs with her roommate, they were debating the eternal high school dilemma: "What's for breakfast?" Who would have thought that, just outside the dorm, they'd see Cen Sen, Jiang Che, and Shu Yang standing not far away?

The roommate gave her a knowing pat on the shoulder and sighed with mock pity. "Looks like I'm doomed to a lonely, pitiful bun today." Without waiting for a response, she waved a breezy goodbye and left.

Jiang Che and Shu Yang looked barely awake. Spotting Ji Mingshu, they greeted her and, in a show of practiced unison, slung their arms over each other's shoulders and walked off first.

Seniors rose earlier than roosters, usually already in their classrooms for self-study before dawn. Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen had barely seen each other lately.

Ji Mingshu: "Pulled an all-nighter cramming?"

Cen Sen: "Mm. Just finished a science section." His voice was slightly hoarse, faint shadows under his eyes. "Come on. I'll go with you for breakfast."

Ji Mingshu nodded and very naturally looped her arm through his.

Cen Sen stiffened slightly, looking down at her. The girl's soft hair brushed against his arm. He could only take her mischievous hand and pull it down. But as his gaze followed the movement, it inadvertently caught a glimpse of the faint line of her collarbone and the curve below, visible through the open light blue collar...

He suddenly stopped walking.

"What's wrong?" Ji Mingshu asked, confused.

Cen Sen stared at her collar for a few seconds, brow slightly furrowed. "The buttons."

"Huh?" Ji Mingshu looked down. "What about them?"

"Fasten them."

"Why? It's uncomfortable when they're done up."

Cen Sen's patience evidently ran out. He directly reached over and fastened the top button for her. But with one done, the revealing curve remained. Almost without thinking, he fastened the next one down too.

It was peak morning rush hour. Students passing by frequently glanced their way. A handsome boy and a pretty girl were eye-catching enough; him doing her buttons in broad daylight was excessively intimate.

Cen Sen's expression didn't change. He said flatly, "Your uniform's too small. Go to the library during break and buy a few new ones."

Ji Mingshu nodded belatedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. Was it her imagination, or had Cen Sen's fingertips brushed against her skin when doing the buttons? The warmth of his touch lingered, refusing to fade.

Cen Sen was naturally quiet. Ji Mingshu was distracted. They bought breakfast in silence. Cen Sen then walked her to the entrance of First Teaching Building.

As they were about to part, Cen Sen suddenly asked, "Do you have enough cash for the new uniforms?"

Ji Mingshu nodded absently, then shook her head a few seconds later. She couldn't remember how much money she had with her, her expression clearly stating, 'Don't ask me, my memory's a blank.'

Seeing her dazed state, Cen Sen didn't press. He simply handed her all the cash he had on him.

...

Because Cen Sen had reminded her repeatedly, during the long mid-morning break, Ji Mingshu dragged her deskmate to the library store to buy new uniforms. She wanted to swing by the snack bar, but her deskmate pulled her back.

"Your highness, you won't starve to death by skipping a snack. I want to go back and fold roses."

Ji Mingshu: "Fold roses?"

"I just learned yesterday," the deskmate tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her tone hesitant, expression slightly shy. "You know, that guy from Class Seven... It's his birthday next week."

Ji Mingshu instantly understood, letting out a long "Oh." Remembering something, she asked curiously, "Is it hard? Folding those roses?"

"You want to fold some too?"

"Yeah, he's taking the college entrance exam soon. I should show my support too..." Ji Mingshu didn't deny it, her little brain quickly conjuring a perfectly legitimate reason. "To express a junior's sincere wishes for her senior's exam success."

Her deskmate let out a meaningful "Oh" and bluntly stated, "Right. Once your Cen Sen gege finishes his exams, hordes of little vixens will be throwing themselves at him. Staking your claim early isn't a bad idea.”

"Shut up! What nonsense are you talking about!" Ji Mingshu tried to refute it, but her deskmate immediately added,

"But roses are definitely beyond you. Why don't you fold some stars instead?"

Ji Mingshu: "… Who are you looking down on?"

Her deskmate: "Just stating facts."

On the way back to class, Ji Mingshu fumed. Why can't I fold roses? I'm so diligent, so beautiful, so kind! This is judging by appearances! This is subtle discrimination! This is the collapse of morality!

Her deskmate humored her. Back in the classroom, five minutes of practical demonstration made Ji Mingshu shut up and reluctantly settle for folding stars.

It turned out her deskmate was right. Ji Mingshu's talent for handicrafts was decidedly limited. Even with simple stars, her success rate was less than ten percent. And she had to make it harder for herself by writing a little message inside each one. Thus, her ambitious goal of 1314 plummeted to 999 by noon, and further down to 520 by the end of the day...

...

The week before the college entrance exams was Children's Day, a holiday with little to do with high schoolers that high schoolers insisted on celebrating anyway. Cen Sen was deep in his final preparations, and Ji Mingshu didn't dare disturb him. She only stationed herself outside Teaching Building Three on Children's Day, waiting for him to finish evening study.

The midsummer night was clear, the sky dotted with scattered stars. The breeze carried a slight chill.

Ji Mingshu stood on tiptoe, peering upstairs every so often. The bell for the end of evening study had long since rung, but the familiar figure was nowhere to be seen. One moment she considered going up to check; the next, she worried about bothering him.

Pacing back and forth below, her legs grew sore. She leaned against the wall, head drooping, even starting to feel sleepy.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she suddenly felt someone gently ruffling her hair.

"Why didn't you just come up?"

Ji Mingshu: "Didn't want to disturb you."

Before Cen Sen could ask why she was looking for him, she proudly presented a small jar from behind like a treasure.

The jar was rather tiny, about the size of a yogurt cup. After a whole week of folding, Ji Mingshu had only managed ninety-nine. She felt a bit embarrassed herself.

Cen Sen took it and examined it for a moment. "You folded these?"

"Mm."

"Why ninety-nine?"

Ji Mingshu stammered, "To wish you success on your exams..."

Cen Sen raised an eyebrow, a hint of laughter in his voice. "I've received quite a few gifts lately. This is the first one wishing me exam success. Seems I misunderstood."

Ji Mingshu: "Misunderstood what?"

"Nothing. Lots of girls have been giving stars, roses, paper cranes lately. Jiang Che said they're confessions, so I didn't accept them. Maybe I should go back and accept them after all..."

Ji Mingshu grew anxious. "No! You can't!"

Cen Sen: "Why not?"

Ji Mingshu: "They have ulterior motives! It's definitely a confession! You can't accept them!"

"Ulterior motives." Cen Sen repeated the phrase slowly. He looked at her, then at the stars in his hand.

Ji Mingshu's face flushed unbecomingly. She twisted the hem of her shirt, feeling she'd never been so embarrassed in her life. She turned to flee, but Cen Sen was quicker, grabbing her wrist. She spun back from the momentum, crashing right into his chest.

Cen Sen still carried that pleasant fir scent. Pressed against his warm chest, she suddenly didn't want to move. After a long moment, she looked up, meeting his clear, dark pupils head-on again.

Hesitantly, she ventured a question, "Cen Sen Gege… will you start dating after your exams?"

Cen Sen: "Depends."

"Even though you'll be free after the exams, I don't think you should rush into dating. Someone as smart as you should focus your limited energy on the infinite pursuit of knowledge." Ji Mingshu said this with utmost seriousness.

Cen Sen seemed to seriously consider her suggestion. Finally, he said in a low voice, "I agree. Your grades are unstable enough as it is. A relationship would affect your studies."

It took Ji Mingshu a good while to grasp his meaning. Unaware that she was already encircled in his arms, she stammered an explanation. "I... I didn't mean that. I meant, even though you should focus on studying in college too, but... all work and no play... if you have the energy, it's actually not completely unacceptable…"

Jiang Che and Shu Yang, on cleaning duty, came downstairs fifteen minutes later. Reaching the second-floor landing, they inadvertently spotted the two figures stuck together in a close embrace below.

Shu Yang shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Those two. Really, a sight for sore eyes."

Jiang Che gave a lazy smile. "Let's go. Don't disturb the childhood sweethearts.”

---

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