My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Early the next morning, the sun was shining brightly, with its light filtering through the lush greenery of the villa area, carrying the clear, crisp air that follows a rainstorm.

Ji Mingshu opened her eyes, lifted her head barely two centimeters, and promptly flopped back down.

Her waist was imprisoned by a powerful arm, rendering her unable to move. Not that she particularly wanted to move at the moment; her entire body ached, and she felt a dull, tingling ache in her lower abdomen.

It was strange. Cen Sen was not a man of excessive lust. In the past, they would be together perhaps once or twice a month, solving the need in a plain, perfunctory way, too lazy to even change positions. Last night, however, he had acted as if he were trying to exhaust a two-year stockpile of energy, catching her again and again until it was barely over at three in the morning.

In real life, someone like him would probably be considered skilled in bed, right? Ji Mingshu wasn't entirely certain, as she didn't have other comparative subjects to draw from.

She let her thoughts wander aimlessly for a moment before reaching out to grope for the remote on the nightstand. She pressed the button for the curtains.

But the curtains had only opened a fraction before Cen Sen squinted his eyes, frowned, snatched the remote from her hand to close them again, and immediately draped his arm back over her waist.

"Take your hand..."

Before she could finish the word "off," Cen Sen had already pulled his hand back, tucked the quilt in, and muttered in a low, impatient, and raspy voice, "Don't be noisy. Sleep."

The furrowed brow revealed that he was genuinely, truly disgusted by her chatter.

Truly the definition of "post-coital indifference."

Fortunately, Ji Mingshu wasn't in a rush to get up. She gave him a firm kick, turned to her other side, and fished out her phone.

The gala from the previous night was still a hot topic this morning, though the discussion revolved entirely around the celebrities.

As the absolute center of every group photo, Su Cheng was mentioned repeatedly. Some fashion bloggers even rated Su Cheng as the best-dressed of the night, and the comments were filled with accolades, mostly centered around the theme of "Once the Best Actress makes a move, the small-time posers should get out of the way."

Ji Mingshu scrolled through the posts. Every picture capturing Su Cheng was either cut in half or treated with a soft-focus background effect; even the video officially released by Zero was the same.

This wasn't particularly strange, as Cen Sen had always remained hidden from the public eye.

However, after last night, those who needed to know in the circles were essentially fully aware of the return of this Crown Prince of Jingjian.

Jingjian was the family business of the Cen family, but its internal factions were incredibly complex, with constant infighting for years.

In this generation, Cen Yuanchao’s branch was the dominant force, controlling the key construction projects in official directives and the core revenue-generating Junyi Hotel Group, holding absolute authority within Jingjian.

But Cen Yuanchao’s health had been poor in recent years, and he had been rushed to the emergency room more than once, both openly and covertly.

With him ill, the "West Wind" had gradually started to rise. While it wasn't quite enough to overpower the "East Wind," the frantic scrambling of rivals had certainly stirred up quite a few waves within Jingjian.

As Cen Yuanchao’s only son, Cen Sen bore a heavy responsibility, and his capabilities matched his burdens. While he appeared refined, handsome, humble, and gentle, his methods were famously ruthless and clean. Among the younger generation, few dared to challenge him directly.

Moreover, Cen Sen had always been cruel to others, but even more so to himself. In order to unite with the Ji family and suppress the side branches of the Southern Cen family, he didn't even blink when he decided to marry a prideful, spoiled young socialite as renowned in the Beijing-Shanghai circles as Ji Mingshu.

When the news of the Cen-Ji union first broke, everyone found it unbelievable. Many even thought the announcement was merely a matter of expediency and that the wedding would never truly take place.

But as the engagement banquet was held as scheduled and Cen Sen was transferred from Huazhang Holdings, a subsidiary of Junyi, back to the group headquarters as the Director of the Development Department, it became increasingly obvious that the Crown Prince intended to use his marital ties as a springboard to claim the throne.

From the announcement of the marriage to the time they returned to the bride’s home, the topics surrounding Cen Sen and Ji Mingshu never ceased.

It wasn't until half a year after the wedding that the gossip about the two gradually faded from casual conversation.

But just then, Cen Sen suddenly took the initiative to propose a transfer to the overseas division of Junyi, claiming he needed to be stationed in Australia to develop the overseas market.

This naturally caused another uproar.

When Cen Sen was first transferred back to Junyi headquarters, he had defied the majority opinion to launch a sub-brand called "Shuiyunjian," focused on the concept of "Hot Spring Resorts."

Few people were optimistic about the project at the time. Because he forced the project through and couldn't produce results in a short period, he inevitably faced obstruction from the group's top management in other areas.

Yet he never backed down, simply clearing out the incompetent petty actors in the side branches with surgical precision. Under his thunderous methods, he eventually managed to "cover the sky with one hand" for a time.

He had carried the pressure all the way until the hotel was completed. At the peak of his success, when he should have used this momentum to advance further, his sudden move to transfer overseas was truly baffling.

Two years had passed in the blink of an eye. Nowadays, when people mentioned hot spring hotels, even those who couldn't afford to stay there would subconsciously think of Junyi’s Shuiyunjian.

With brand recognition so deeply ingrained, this was the silent yet most direct affirmation of his success.

Now that Cen Sen had returned quietly and without fanfare, everyone’s long-dormant curiosity was inevitably piqued. From last night until this morning, there was intense private speculation.

Ji Mingshu had also received a barrage of messages. On WeChat, her unread notifications were dense, and a mere glance at the previews told her that everyone was asking about Cen Sen in one way or another.

Gu Kaiyang, however, had no intention of digging for information about Cen Sen; she sent a voice message early in the morning, teasing:

"Haven't you gotten up yet?"

"Mr. Cen’s performance in bed is truly extraordinary."

Ji Mingshu only clicked on the first part, but before she could bring it to her ear, the second part played automatically through the external speaker.

She subconsciously wanted to pause it, but her hand speed couldn't keep up with the playback. By the time she pressed the button, the audio had finished, and the pause became a replay: "Mr. Cen’s performance in bed is truly extraordinary."

In the surrounding silence, the playful repetition, tinged with a faint electrical hum, sounded a bit like a confirmation and validation from the listener who hadn't had enough.

Ji Mingshu nervously perked up her ears—

The steady breathing behind her seemed to have stopped.

She stiffened, stuffed the phone under her pillow in slow motion, her body tensed straight, her toes curling involuntarily.

Cen Sen was already awake.

He was lying on the left side of the bed. He glanced at Ji Mingshu’s stiff, thin back and let out a silent scoff.

Not long after, he threw back the quilt and got up.

Ji Mingshu heard the footsteps moving from the other side of the bed toward her, and she closed her eyes immediately, though her lashes fluttered uncontrollably.

Soon, the footsteps stopped right in front of her. She held her breath for no reason, and in that brief instant, her mind simulated several biting retorts that would surely hold their own in an argument.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Thirty seconds.

The footsteps moved from far to near, then from near to far, and it wasn't until she heard the sound of water splashing in the bathroom that Ji Mingshu realized—Cen Sen couldn't even be bothered to expose her fake sleep.

For some reason, a wave of stifled anger rose in her heart. She opened her eyes, stared at the bathroom for a few seconds, then suddenly threw off the quilt and sat up, leaning heavily against the headboard in a fit of pique.

Her peripheral vision caught a stack of documents on the cabinet on Cen Sen’s side. She leaned over, straining and stretching, finally managing to reach them after quite some effort.

Junyi Group Designer Hotel Development Proposal

Ji Mingshu had originally just pulled them over to vent her frustration, but upon seeing the title on the cover, her expression unconsciously shifted.

When Cen Sen came out of the bathroom, he saw Ji Mingshu leaning against the headboard, reading the materials carefully.

Her nightdress, rumpled from the night, was tucked up carelessly. Her legs were stretched out and crossed, looking long, straight, and blindingly fair.

Ji Mingshu noticed his movement, but her eyes were reluctant to move from the documents. She asked while reading, "Junyi is going to build a designer hotel?"

Cen Sen gave an "Mmm," lifted his chin slightly, and fastened the first button of his shirt.

Ji Mingshu said nothing more, continuing to flip the pages.

She was the only girl of her generation in the Ji family. Although her parents had died early, she was notoriously pampered by her aunts, uncles, and elders. After graduating from university and marrying into the Cen family of Beijing, she secured her position at the top of the "Four-Nine City" socialite circle.

Her daily routine consisted of receiving invitations to various parties and hopping on flights to go on vacation around the world. Everyone envied her for living life on "Easy Mode."

Probably no one remembered that she was actually a high-achieving student of interior design from SCAD, not a vapid, air-headed vase whose brain served as a display piece for shopping.

"I remember you studied interior design at SCAD. Are you interested?" Cen Sen asked suddenly.

Ji Mingshu looked up, staring at him for a few seconds. She had never expected this "cheap husband" to remember that fact.

It took a long while for Ji Mingshu to regain her composure. She masked her delight—which had hit the mark—and brewed up a retort in her mind to act coy. It was as if a princess were stooping to give him a bit of face.

But before Her Royal Highness could speak, Cen Sen added, "The hotel will be completed in a while. I’ll have someone take you to visit it in advance."

... ?

"Visit?"

"You don't intend to participate in the design, do you?" he said without a second thought. "No, the hotel isn't a place for you to practice your skills."

Ji Mingshu couldn't help but say, "Yesterday’s gala was designed by me."

Cen Sen paused and turned to look at her. "So, it was you who designed it."

It was a sudden realization, yet full of implication.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I’m even more certain that you shouldn't be involved."

He put on his wristwatch in a leisurely manner, looked down, and delivered the definitive verdict.

Ji Mingshu had been feeling a bit guilty to begin with. Hearing this, her ears turned red, and she instantly sat bolt upright.

"Actually, yesterday wasn't my true standard!"

Her voice rose an octave, a precise demonstration of what it meant to have to be loud when you lacked the logic to back it up.

Cen Sen looked as if he might laugh; he raised a brow slightly, patiently waiting for her explanation.

This was a long story. In fact, the theme of a "Round Table Party" had been set for yesterday’s gala long ago, echoing the inaugural issue of Zero from ten years prior.

But just as Ji Mingshu had finished the drawings, the group headquarters and the sponsors had a falling out, and the budget suddenly became tight.

Nothing was more indispensable in fashion than money. Zero refused to compromise on the scale, and headquarters refused to allocate more funds. After a week of bickering, the two parties barely reached an agreement to merge the tenth-anniversary fashion gala with the charity gala originally scheduled for the next quarter and hold it early.

Once it was branded as a "charity" event, playing with fashion concepts and party themes obviously wasn't appropriate, which meant the previous site design plan had to be completely scrapped.

Ji Mingshu hated changes, and she was high-maintenance. The last time she had made a move was two years ago, doing the spring runway design for Chris Chou’s first Milan Fashion Week. If not for the sake of Gu Kaiyang’s reputation, she wouldn't have bothered with such a demanding case for Zero at all. To hear that they dared to demand a complete overhaul of her design draft at the last minute? She hadn't been polite at all when she hung up on the editor-in-chief.

Ji Mingshu's original intention was to wash her hands of the whole affair, letting whoever wanted to do it have at it, but she couldn't withstand Gu Kaiyang’s persistent pestering and eventually redid the plan.

It was just that the time was tight, and starting from scratch meant the new plan was somewhat perfunctory. The final result was mediocre; it wasn't lacking in luxury, but it had zero character.

Ji Mingshu herself wasn't satisfied with the scene last night either, but as the words of defense reached her lips, she felt she didn't have a leg to stand on. After opening and closing her mouth several times, she said nothing and slumped down, kneeling on the bed in defeat.

Cen Sen was already dressed and ready to leave. Seeing that she hadn't come up with anything, he wasn't surprised. His gaze just dimmed slightly. "Kneeling to me is useless. You might as well go to the Potala Palace and kowtow three times every nine steps; perhaps that would be enough to move the heavens.”