My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Ji Mingshu chewed through the remaining half of her ice cream with effort, her cheeks puffed out like a little pufferfish. Shivering from the cold while keeping her eyes glued to her phone, she hurried back to her apartment.

Inside his car, Cen Sen had kept his gaze fixed on her as she slowly moved along. It wasn't until she entered the building that he slightly retracted his gaze and stepped out of the vehicle.

He leaned against the side of the car, looking up to see that same small window on the floor above glowing with a faint, soft light once again. He suddenly recalled the sight of Ji Mingshu sitting on the stone bench, eating her oden with such solemn seriousness, and his eyes deepened involuntarily.

His golden canary, it seemed, had quietly opened the cage door and was beginning to poke her head out, peering around.

Ji Mingshu had long since cast that peculiar sense of intuition aside. Back in her apartment, she rubbed her hands and arms, unable to control a shiver.

However, she was in high spirits at the moment. She draped a jacket over her shoulders, sat back down in front of the computer, and secretly donned Gu Kaiyang’s black-rimmed glasses, quickly entering a focused state of work.

Chris Chou was born in a small southern city. His father was a painter, and his mother was a very famous socialite in Shanghai at the end of the last century; their union could be considered a case of the woman "marrying down." But the husband became famous in middle age, and his net worth skyrocketed. His paintings sold well both at home and abroad. At a Sotheby’s autumn auction in the 1990s, his painting Intoxicated by Gold and Faded Dreams had fetched a staggering price of nearly ten million.

Consequently, when Chris Chou was in his early teens, his father moved the entire family to Los Angeles to seek long-term development.

To this day, their family has indeed become a renowned existence within the Chinese circle in North America.

Chris Chou himself is also outstanding, arguably the most dazzling new star in the fashion circle in recent years.

He is a typical academic-style designer, a graduate of Parsons. During his time in school, he successively interned at luxury brands under the LVMH Group and the most authoritative fashion magazine in the United States. After graduation, he joined LVMH, later resigned to create his eponymous brand, Chris Chou, and held his first show at New York Fashion Week the following year. Subsequently, his shows have spread across the four major fashion weeks; the response has been impressive, and sales have continued to climb.

The color-block t-shirts he designed ignited Facebook and Instagram two years ago, and trendsetters and fashion bloggers both at home and abroad almost all owned one. In the annual fashion magazine rankings, his color-block t-shirt was basically voted the most popular street-style item; Ji Mingshu had also bought the entire series back then.

His return to China to host a show this time was due to the strong invitations from the Fashion Design Association and other organizations, which provided extensive sponsorship and support. Moreover, he personally believed that this season’s designs needed to be presented on the soil where he had lived during his childhood to achieve the most fitting effect.

Before reading the relevant materials in detail, Ji Mingshu had been very surprised and skeptical about the venue being Junyi Huazhang. She even had a thought pop into her mind while going upstairs: "Did Cen Sen arrange this?"

After all, there was more than one place in the Imperial Capital suitable for hosting a show; why arrange it at a hotel with such exorbitantly high rental fees as Junyi Huazhang?

After finishing the documents, her doubts were largely dispelled. The sponsoring organizations had deep pockets, and their senior management had countless connections with Beijing Construction. Based on the principle of keeping resources within one's own circle, choosing Junyi Huazhang was quite reasonable.

Furthermore, that Huazhang Hotel on Huating Road featured four large buildings, and the central glass water pavilion and lawn space were used for exhibitions. From the perspective of venue area and showroom arrangements, it was extremely suitable.

But at Junyi...

Wouldn't that mean she was practically asking for trouble by coming to his doorstep? Cen Sen wouldn't misunderstand this as her taking the initiative to seek reconciliation, would he?

Ji Mingshu propped her chin on her hand in front of the computer and thought for a while, but eventually, she replied to Chris Chou.

There was no help for it; the opportunity was too rare, and she simply couldn't give it up.

Chris Chou had previous experience collaborating with Ji Mingshu and had a lot of confidence in her. Once she replied with an "OK," he didn't even ask for a draft and made the decision on the spot. The two chatted online for a while and then set a time to meet for a detailed discussion.

Before a major show is released, a designer's works are kept highly confidential and can only be discussed by the designer in person.

Moreover, after showing her the relevant design drafts and design concepts, he would have to take the items back with him.

This meeting was set directly at Junyi Huazhang, and Ji Mingshu had no room to argue, as Chris Chou was staying at the Huazhang for his return to China. After talking, they still had to go see the actual site; all things considered, this meeting location was very appropriate.

Before going out, Ji Mingshu nervously changed her outfit several times. After arriving at the hotel's executive lounge, she was a bit restless, terrified that Cen Sen would suddenly pop out from some corner, leaving them to stare at each other in long, suffocating silence until the awkwardness reached the core of the earth.

But facts proved she was overthinking it.

This meeting lasted from two o'clock to six o'clock in the afternoon. Chris Chou even enthusiastically kept her for dinner at the hotel, yet Cen Sen never appeared.

It made sense, too—Junyi owned so many hotels, and he usually worked at the headquarters building; how could it be such a coincidence that he would appear here?

On the way back, Ji Mingshu couldn't say whether she felt disappointed or relieved. Her lipstick had worn off for the most part, but she had no mood to touch it up.

For the entire week that followed, Ji Mingshu busied herself in her apartment with her runway plan, and she was particularly iron-hearted and strictly professional.

Gu Kaiyang’s magazine was very focused on Chris Chou’s big show, but Ji Mingshu stubbornly refused to reveal a single bit of relevant information to her editor-in-chief friend. Every day, she would hold her computer like she was guarding against thieves, while claiming this was her standing by her professional ethics.

Gu Kaiyang was so angry she grabbed her by the neck and shook her wildly, saying she wanted to clean out and kick this heartless woman out of the house.

Ji Mingshu was naturally not afraid, because after taking on this design job, she had! MONEY!

The level of domestic fashion design was still in a state of a long road ahead waiting to be explored, especially in high-end design. It was not easy for Chinese designers to gain international fame. For someone of Chris Chou’s level to return to China to host a show, the relevant organizations and institutions would naturally give their full support.

The runway budget given by Chris Chou reached eight figures, and it wasn't the kind starting with a small number like one or two.

Compared to regular post-show commercial sales, spending this kind of money to host a show could be called cost-indifferent.

To create a show worth eight figures, the compensation for Ji Mingshu, the collaborating designer, was naturally very generous.

It was just that this generous compensation was not easy to earn.

For the design plan alone, Ji Mingshu and Chris Chou grinded sleeplessly for a whole week.

After the plan was finalized and they entered the physical setup stage, Ji Mingshu had to go to the site to supervise in person.

"No, a little to the left, a little more to the left... enough, enough!"

The Imperial Capital had already entered early winter. The outdoor wind was bone-chilling, blowing like cold knives cutting into flesh.

Although Ji Mingshu wasn't a movie star, she had long since cultivated the star-standard habit of choosing style over warmth. In near-zero temperatures, she wore only a thin black drop-shoulder sweater, layered with a flimsy camel trench coat. Her long, white, delicate fingers were exposed to the air, and the knuckles were frozen bright red.

This was her fourth consecutive day coming to the Huazhang Hotel on Huating Road to direct the runway setup.

Although Chris Chou was Chinese, his style had always been very Western. This time, he rarely incorporated cheongsam and Su embroidery elements into his work. One reason was to commercially cater to the massive Chinese market outside of the design itself, and the second was to give his mother a birthday surprise.

His mother had lived in Shanghai for many years, and in her youth, she loved various types of cheongsams. His early spring collection this season could be said to be a tribute to his mother.

Upon learning that his parents had been lovingly married for many years, Ji Mingshu had even specially sought out his father's art collections to study before deciding on the show’s theme.

The final "Intoxicated by Gold and Faded Dreams" theme chosen echoed his father’s most famous oil painting of the same name.

Ji Mingshu had designed the main stage to look like a grounded ship from the Old Shanghai era. The hotel’s original water pavilion and piano stairs were retained and slightly modified. Layered and interactive, the path extended all the way to the top of the ship, becoming the main runway for the models.

Additionally, to create an immersive sensory experience for the audience, Ji Mingshu collaborated with Chris Chou to design an immersive video art installation of the same name as the show's theme, literally creating a fully enclosed visual space outdoors at the Junyi.

Ji Mingshu had also put a great deal of effort into the lighting. To achieve the gorgeous effect in the design drafts and highlight the theme, a series of light fixtures had been specifically ordered from a foreign lighting designer and air-freighted back to China. The lighting and setup alone had cost several million in expenses.

At this moment, Ji Mingshu was directing the lighting setup. These things were incredibly expensive and fragile, not allowing for the slightest mistake, and she wouldn't allow items bought at such a high price to be placed in the wrong positions.

"Move the A1 to A4. The C1 spot is wrong; it’s not accurate at all. Please reinstall it." Standing in the cold wind, she directed the workers. Seeing that they hadn't installed it correctly after a long time, she had no choice but to step forward herself. "Here, yes, that’s it, just a little bit to the left."

Seeing that the position was correct, she took two steps back to assess it.

Before she could satisfy her nod, the worker’s expression suddenly turned to terror. "Look out—!"

Before his words fell, the spot where Ji Mingshu stood emitted the sound of a crystal chandelier hitting the ground and shattering. After a "bang," there was a dense series of sharp, splintering crunches.

Exclamations immediately broke out in succession at the scene!

Ji Mingshu’s head went blank for a moment. Before she could react to what had happened, she was yanked hard by someone.

She was wearing ten-centimeter narrow, stiletto heels, and being tugged like that, a wave of pain so intense it made her vision go black shot through her ankle at the same time.

Soon after came another loud shattering crash! However, in the next second, her ears were covered by someone’s hands, and her head was also tucked into a chest.

Compared to that loud crash, what she heard more clearly was the heartbeat of the chest she was buried against.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Powerful and familiar.

In the biting wind of early winter, she caught the scent of fir trees that always gave her peace of mind.

The tip of her nose was frozen bright red, but her eyes were wide open and unblinking, as if she were in a daze, or perhaps lingering in a moment of longing.

Cen Sen’s bodyguards rushed up at the first opportunity, and the executives accompanying Cen Sen on his inspection also urgently called staff to handle the scene, stepping forward to offer their solicitous care.

"President Cen, are you alright?"

"Oh my, President Cen, your hand is bleeding!"

"Hurry, hurry, call an ambulance!"

Someone nudged another and whispered, "Nothing was crushed, why call an ambulance!"

After a long while, Cen Sen responded indifferently, "I'm fine."

He remained holding Ji Mingshu tightly, not even lifting his eyes.

Zhou Jiaheng stood below, calming his racing heartbeat while putting on a calm and composed look to ask the various executives to leave the venue.

Once everyone had left, Ji Mingshu finally came to her senses a little.

She pushed gently, and Cen Sen relaxed his grip accordingly.

He was wearing a black wool coat today, which set his skin off into a nearly transparent white. His hand hung down, and blood mixed with shards of glass dripped onto the deliberately distressed ship deck, looking horrifying.

Ji Mingshu was somewhat at a loss. She stood there blankly for a moment before remembering to untie the decorative silk scarf from her bag and handing it toward him.

He didn't take it, but instead held his hand out toward her, his gaze indifferent.

She was stunned for a moment, then hesitantly covered his wound with the scarf, hesitating again before tying a knot.

—The two finally ushered in the "staring at each other in long, suffocating silence until the awkwardness reaches the core of the earth" scenario that Ji Mingshu had been anticipating for so long.

She bit the bullet and met Cen Sen’s gaze. After a long while, she suddenly blurted out, "My silk scarf is very expensive."

"Also... the lamp is also very expensive. What should I do now that it’s shattered?"

After saying this, Ji Mingshu closed her eyes, accepting her fate, and wished she could go back ten seconds and sew her own mouth shut.

But the moment she closed her eyes, a calm, cool male voice suddenly sounded in front of her: "I’ll compensate you."