My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The stranger’s build was remarkably similar to Cen Sen’s, and they were even both wearing black coats.

But looking closely, the coat styles were not identical, and the man’s features were plain, a far cry from Cen Sen’s.

Having been thrust such a large box of condoms out of nowhere, the stranger was a bit dazed. He looked down at the item in his arms, then back up at Ji Mingshu, his face full of bewilderment, mixed with a faint, glimmering hope that this might be some stroke of heaven-sent good fortune.

"Miss, you..."

He had just begun to speak when a gentle male voice sounded from the side: "Apologies, my wife mistook you for someone else."

Cen Sen stepped forward, unobtrusively shielding Ji Mingshu behind him, his expression calm and detached.

He glanced at the "good fortune bomb" in the man's hands, took it without changing his expression, and tossed it into their shopping cart.

The man froze, nodded sheepishly, and feeling incredibly awkward about his own overactive imagination, said nothing more.

Earlier, Ji Mingshu had hurried forward the moment she grabbed the items. When Cen Sen followed, this stranger had entered from another aisle one step ahead.

Seeing the man pushing a cart and moving slowly, Cen Sen had detoured to the side, following Ji Mingshu while separated by a display case.

Who would have thought that at such close range, the little porcelain vase, Ji, could pull off such an inconceivable operation.

At this moment, the little porcelain vase was hiding behind Cen Sen, her scalp tingling from the sheer embarrassment of it all, not daring to let out a full breath.

Whenever Cen Sen took a step forward, she followed.

But when she noticed Cen Sen heading toward the manual checkout counter, she couldn't help but tug on the back hem of his coat, ordering in a tiny voice: "Go to the self-checkout!"

Cen Sen tilted his head slightly back.

The little porcelain vase, startled like a frightened bird, tilted her head too, trying her best to avoid his peripheral vision.

Fortunately, Cen Sen didn't mock her or make a fuss, opting to follow her wish and go through the self-checkout lane.

After scanning the barcodes, Cen Sen took out his phone to pay.

Ji Mingshu was hoping he would hurry up so he could take her away from this humiliating place, but unexpectedly, he asked: "Did you delete me on WeChat again?"

Ji Mingshu stuttered for several seconds.

Good sir, what century are we living in? You only just noticed? If unilateral self-divorce were possible, wouldn't you have to wait until your family urged you to have children to realize you no longer had a wife?

But she couldn't offend her savior daddy right now. She hid behind his back and whispered, trying to shift the blame: "It must have been a slip of the hand, or maybe WeChat glitched—trash software!"

Cen Sen: "..."

Stealing a glance at his expression, Ji Mingshu hurriedly took out her phone to send a friend request: "Added, added. Accept it."

But Cen Sen didn't even look; he simply put his phone away and said calmly: "We'll see."

Ji Mingshu: "...?"

Why did she get the feeling that those three simple words, "we'll see," actually meant "it depends on how you behave"?

Cen Sen started walking toward the exit. Ji Mingshu had no time to think; she sneaked out a hand to grab his hem again, following him step by step.

It was ten o'clock at night when they returned to the hotel suite. As expected, Ji Mingshu dove straight into the bathroom.

Cen Sen didn't pay it any mind, taking the groceries straight to the kitchen.

While soaking in the tub, Ji Mingshu played on her phone. Seeing a stream of concerned messages from acquaintances on WeChat, she posted a group reply on her moments: "Thanks everyone for your concern, I’ve returned safely to the hotel. /Love"

She attached a cute, well-behaved emoji.

She then clicked into the "Three Little Fairies" group chat, unleashing a storm of fury. Starting with "What sins did I, Ji Mingshu, commit in my past life," she proceeded to complain for five full pages.

Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun first responded with a tacit "hahahahaha," crazily testing the limits of being kicked out of the group.

Then, with great experience, before Ji Mingshu could truly blow a fuse, they followed her lead to bash the production team, bash Yan Yuexing, and even bash the innocent bystanders and the equally innocent Cen Sen—essentially adopting a stance of "those who flatter the bird shall prosper, those who oppose the bird shall perish."

Having been pampered so shamelessly, Ji Mingshu finally calmed down a bit. She felt, once again, from the bottom of her heart, that only sisters were worth it in this world; men were just useless weeds.

Remembering that Cen Sen still hadn't added her back on WeChat, she couldn't help but curse him a few more times in the group.

However, Jiang Chun hadn't been part of the sycophant squad for long, and her skills weren't quite polished enough.

Moreover, she had always believed that Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen were a loving couple, so she naturally assumed that Ji Mingshu’s complaints were just a form of playful flirting.

So, she tried to be clever and praised Cen Sen, continuing for two pages straight without stopping. Ji Mingshu stared at her screen, unable to find a single chance to interject.

After the praise ended, this little goose brought up her own situation with Tang Zhizhou and sent a sincere voice message: "Fighting is affection and scolding is love. We all know you like your husband very much, but you can just vent in the group. In front of your husband, you should try to show your gentle side. Otherwise, he might not feel this alternative kind of love of yours, you know? Because I've discovered that men's brains are really simple; he can't feel these roundabout expressions of yours."

"..."

Who likes him?!

Is it your little goose brain that's too complicated?!

I’m just purely scolding him, scolding him, scolding him!!!

Ji Mingshu: [Shut up!]

Jiang Chun was stunned for a moment. Before she could react, she noticed the group name had changed to "Two Little Fairies and One Little Goose."

Perhaps it was the dense mist in the bathroom or the high temperature, but Ji Mingshu felt a bit hot.

She stared at the line of text converted from the voice message—"We all know you like your husband very much"—unable to look away.

After a long while, she forced herself to place her phone face down, stood up to dry off, and hurriedly left the bathroom.

In the short time Ji Mingshu had spent showering, the kitchen was already wafting with the fragrance of porridge.

She huddled on the sofa, watching a palace drama half-heartedly. After struggling with herself a hundred times, she finally wandered into the kitchen in her bare feet.

"Um, what kind of porridge are you making? It smells quite good."

She held her hands behind her back, her thin shoulders straight, maintaining the aura of a princess on an inspection tour.

"Vegetable and shrimp."

Cen Sen was still prepping ingredients, not looking up once.

Ji Mingshu stood on her tiptoes to peek, then gathered the courage to ask, awkwardly: "So, do you need my help? Like... is there anything I can do?"

"No."

Simple and direct, shattering her glass heart in one blow.

"..."

"Cen Sen is being gentle today" — top of the list of the world's three greatest illusions :)

Choked by his words, Ji Mingshu turned to leave, but Cen Sen suddenly stopped what he was doing and turned back to say: "If you're so free, you should work on your design blueprints."

Ji Mingshu stopped. "What’s wrong with my blueprints?"

She had finished the design for this project very quickly, locking in the theme and renovation plan within two or three days after the production team provided the real-world footage of the house.

The hosts of the house had bonded over a musical film, and in that film, there was a concluding song for the whole story called "Epilogue"—which was Ji Mingshu’s design theme: "The Tail End."

It fit the light vintage style requested by the owners perfectly, and carried the beautiful meaning of walking from the prelude to the finale. Ji Mingshu had been inspired, finishing the drawings especially fast, and the final rendering effect was perfect. Even Yan Yuexing couldn't say a word after seeing the mock-ups.

So what was the problem?

Cen Sen wiped his hands and said leisurely: "You have a lot of design concepts, and your renderings are very academic, but the owners are ordinary people. A home is not a showroom; practical function is always the first priority."

In short: it wasn't down-to-earth; people couldn't live in it.

Ji Mingshu opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to refute, but she couldn't find a place to start.

Wearing a smoky pink silk nightgown and leaning barefoot against the kitchen doorway, she stayed there stupidly for ten minutes, looking pitiful, weak, and helpless.

Cen Sen: "Stop thinking about it. Drink your porridge."

Ji Mingshu came to her senses, finally smelling the fresh fragrance of the vegetable and shrimp porridge.

She had been sidetracked so many times along the way—hungry then full, then hungry again—she was utterly famished. With no time to think about other things, she just stared at Cen Sen, following him expectantly as they walked toward the dining room.

But just walking on flat ground, as if possessed, she suddenly slipped. With a "thump," she sat backward, her buttocks hitting the floor hard.

Cen Sen stood by the dining table, looking back at her as if she were a little maniac.

She was stunned by the fall.

Sitting on the floor, supporting herself with her hands, her tailbone felt numb and painful, and inexplicably, she felt the pain spreading all the way up to her skull.

The most terrifying part was that Cen Sen just stood there watching her for a full minute, as if he had confirmed that she would never be able to walk independently in this lifetime, before stepping forward to scoop her up in his arms with a hint of pity.

Cen Sen: "Are you so hungry that you’ve lost your intelligence?"

Ahhh! Get your blood-stained, smelly hands off me! I can stand up from where I fell even without your help, you jerk!!!

Ji Mingshu was mentally independent, but physically, she could only be a humble little vase, hugging Cen Sen’s neck tightly. Even though her butt was trembling with pain, she had to keep a blank expression on her face.

Cen Sen suddenly chuckled.

Ji Mingshu’s glass heart shattered again. "What are you laughing at? Did you just laugh?"

Cen Sen didn't admit it, nor did he deny it.

Ji Mingshu said sorrowfully: "I can't live with you anymore. Our fates must be incompatible."

As she said this, she reached out to pinch Cen Sen's face—and in a particularly intimate way, pulling his cheeks to both sides with both hands.

By the time they reached the bedside, she realized what she had done and hurriedly let go in a panic.

Cen Sen didn't seem to mind, placing her on the bed and having her lie flat on her stomach.

Ji Mingshu instinctively lifted her head.

Cen Sen, thinking who knows what, leaned over slightly and suddenly pinched her cheeks in return. His voice was deep and low, slightly hoarse from jet lag: "Then who do you think you can live with?"

Ji Mingshu was speechless.

The two of them locked eyes in this particularly strange posture.

Both their hearts skipped a heavy, unified beat.