My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Upon hearing this inquiry, Ji Mingshu looked up subconsciously.

The man was quite tall, around 185 centimeters, roughly the same as Cen Sen, and appeared to be about the same age. He wore a fall/winter suit from Chris Chou’s collection released this past June; it was impeccably tailored, fitting him perfectly. He possessed a gentle and clean air, and his features were quite handsome.

But she didn't know him, and she hadn't seen him before.

She swept a seemingly casual glance at Jiang Chun beside her, but unexpectedly, Jiang Chun was also staring straight at her with a face full of innocence and blank confusion.

Ji Mingshu: "..."

The little simpleton didn't know him either.

She had originally thought he was a new face who had recently entered the circle and was trying to get close to her, but now it seemed that wasn't the case.

Too lazy to guess, she cut straight to the chase: "Hello, do we know each other?"

The man looked at her deeply, the smile on his lips widening. His voice was as clear and resonant as metal striking jade, "Xiaoshu, you are still exactly the same as you were when you were a child."

The words "when you were a child" landed in Ji Mingshu's ears like the key to a magic box, inadvertently pulling out a stretch of old, yellowed childhood memories. She stared at the man, dazed. As the confusion in her eyes slowly faded, the man’s contours began to shift and shrink, seamlessly overlapping with a vaguely defined face from her memories.

Though, her voice remained somewhat hesitant: "Cen... Brother Cen Yang?"

The man laughed again and nodded decisively in admission, adding with a playful tone, "It's difficult for the noble Miss Ji, with all her important affairs, to not have forgotten me, name and all."

Ji Mingshu didn't know if it was because she was too shocked, or if her reflex arc was just too long, but she couldn't utter a word for a long while.

Jiang Chun, standing by, wasn't stupid either. Once she heard the surname, she felt there was a story behind it.

Cen—this was someone from the Cen family. Judging by his age, could he be a brother to Cen Sen?

But if they were brothers, how could Ji Mingshu have not seen him for years, to the point where she almost didn't recognize him?

In just a few seconds, Jiang Chun mentally drafted a grand, high-society drama about brothers warring over inheritance. She nudged Ji Mingshu and whispered in her ear: "Who is this? He’s actually quite handsome. Is he Cen Sen’s cousin, or some illegitimate child born of the same father but different mother?"

Nudged by this, Ji Mingshu finally snapped out of it.

However, after snapping back, she felt no excess emotion beyond the initial shock. She even subconsciously looked back in the direction of Cen Sen.

As luck would have it, after the big show, the piano staircase had automatically retracted, and the set design of the old steamship was slowly rotating. In these few seconds, the position of its rotation happened to block the view between the showroom and the viewing area.

Ji Mingshu didn't know what she was thinking. Cen Yang took the opportunity to glance at his watch and suddenly said: "Apologies, Xiaoshu, I have some matters to attend to today and cannot chat with you much longer. In a few days, I’ll invite you for afternoon tea, and we can have a proper talk then."

He took out his phone, pulled up the QR code interface, and held it out in front of Ji Mingshu: "This is my WeChat, add me."

"Oh, okay."

Before Ji Mingshu could even think, she passively took out her phone and added his WeChat.

Cen Yang changed his remark to "Xiaoshu" right in front of her, shook his phone, and said with a smile: "I only registered a WeChat account recently after returning to the country; you are my third friend."

Without waiting for Ji Mingshu to reply, he put his phone away: "Alright, I’m off. We’ll be in touch."

Not until Cen Yang walked out of sight did Ji Mingshu remain as if she had fallen into a dream, unable to recover for a long time.

To have a living, breathing person just vanish during childhood, and then, after a dozen or two years, just reappear like that—it was truly magical.

Jiang Chun stood to the side, stared at Cen Yang’s departing figure for a moment, and then focused on Ji Mingshu with a grave expression, questioning her: "Tell me, do you and this 'Brother Cen Yang' have some kind of sordid affair?! As soon as you saw him, you stood there like your soul had been hooked by the Grim Reapers for half a day... Hey, you and Cen Sen are having problems—don't tell me it’s because this childhood sweetheart 'big brother' is stirring up trouble in the middle of it? But come to think of it, how come I’ve never heard you mention such a person before???"

Before Ji Mingshu could speak, Jiang Chun let go of the arm she was holding and muttered in a low voice: "Ji-family Shushu, you’ve changed. You have little secrets from me!"

Ji Mingshu stared at her with a gaze that suggested, "Are you perhaps being hit by the dimensional reduction strike of the Singer Civilization?" vividly illustrating what it meant to be speechless.

On the other side, Cen Sen had been sitting in his original seat. He hadn't even clearly seen what the man Ji Mingshu bumped into looked like before his view was blocked by the rotating catwalk.

Unhurriedly finishing his instructions to Zhou Jiaheng, he rose and walked toward the direction of Ji Mingshu.

But the scene was chaotic after the show ended; by the time he reached the spot where Ji Mingshu had been standing, she was long gone, and there wasn't a soul in sight.

A quarter of an hour later, Zhou Jiaheng sent back first-hand intelligence from the showroom: "Madam and Miss Jiang Chun are trying on clothes. Besides the few sets you mentioned, Madam seems to like the white dress worn by the opening model."

"Buy it."

Zhou Jiaheng replied, "Yes," and did not mention anything about any man.

Cen Sen didn't ask further.

Chris Chou’s early spring show opened with great momentum and ended with stunning admiration.

For several days after the show, entertainment gossip and fashion media continued to frequently mention and discuss it.

The former focused mostly on the celebrities who attended—their outfits, hair, makeup, the order of photos, seating arrangements, and the unsolved mysteries of sisterhood and relative heights in the entertainment industry, all of which were great material for sensationalizing and endless discussion.

The latter was more professional and in-depth, discussing the significance of Chris Chou hosting a show domestically, the pros and cons of the designs in the three collections this season, the similarities and differences compared to his previous style, and which aspects represented heritage versus subversion... Of course, frequently mentioned alongside this was the design of the show venue itself.

For instance, the magazine where Gu Kaiyang worked wrote in an exclusive interview: "As December just stepped into the early winter, Chris Chou launched his Early Spring Ready-to-Wear collection at the Junyi Huazhang Hotel in the Imperial Capital..."

"Chris Chou once again invited interior designer Ji Mingshu to collaborate in building the 'Paper Drunk, Gold Bewildered' Early Spring show venue, creating an immersive video art installation of the same name to deliver an extreme sensory experience. The piano staircases and corridors intertwined with mirror reflections, the immersive installation made people dream back to the era of the Shanghai Bund, and the rotating ship of the main show venue was also ingeniously crafted."

"This season’s early spring show, from the venue to the fashions, has walked out of Chris Chou’s inherent style. In the combination of modern minimalist art and Chinese-element retro flair, Chris Chou and his interior design partner have handed in a perfect answer sheet."

Chris Chou’s two-minute thank-you speech at the end almost pushed Ji Mingshu directly to the forefront, raising her status and prestige in the interior design field.

Like with Zero Degree, many fashion magazines and media outlets would subconsciously dig deep into this interior designer when writing reviews, only to find that she had no other works.

Of course, that didn't matter much; they would just brag about her academic credentials and hype her up as Chris Chou’s designated partner. Those who knew she was a top socialite and weren't afraid to write it would directly label her with the title of "Socialite Designer."

For a time, waves of sycophantic praise poured in.

Before, even when Ji Mingshu did nothing at all, there were people praising her daily for being beautiful, kind, and having great taste. Now that she had actually done something serious, the praise could be unfolded in every possible dimension.

Ji Mingshu couldn't even read it all. After Chris Chou left, she just laid on the bed like a salted fish for two full days, her mind playing barrages of comments at double speed—

Does Cen-family Sensen still have a conscience? When will he come to beg this baby to go home? Can the little money earned from this job last until then? Am I going to have to wait until I die?! Woo woo woo, work is so tiring! This little sparrow treasure has endured too much! TVT!

Just when Ji Mingshu was so much of a salted fish that she wouldn't even turn over, Cen Yang, whom she had run into at the show that day, sent her a message. He said that a friend of his had bought a courtyard house in Xijing No. 3 and hoped to find someone to help with the design.

Ji Mingshu instinctively replied, "No, no."

After sending it, she felt embarrassed to say it was because she was too tired and didn't want to work, so she explained euphemistically: "I’m not very good at Chinese-style design, and I’ve just finished the show, so my inspiration seems a bit dried up. However, I know a very excellent Chinese-style designer, and I can recommend them to you."

Cen Yang said that was fine, so she flipped through her contacts to find the business card of a designer from another group she had met while filming the show, and forwarded it to him.

Not long after, Cen Yang asked if she had time to go out for afternoon tea or dinner; it had been many years, and he wanted to reminisce with her.

She had just turned down a design job, so it wouldn't be good to refuse him one after another. Furthermore, she couldn't find a reason to refuse Cen Yang’s request. She didn't have many deep impressions of many things from her childhood, but she always remembered that Cen Yang had been very good to her when they were young.

Without much hesitation, she replied with a "Good."

Ji Mingshu had been living her salted-fish days in a muddled haze and hadn't paid attention to the date. Only as the meeting approached did she realize that the day Cen Yang had invited her to dinner was Christmas Eve.

In the French restaurant on Christmas Eve, ethereal and soothing music pulsed and flowed through the air. Under the orange-hued lighting, the exquisite tableware was crystal clear and shining; every detail of the cups, dishes, and chairs carried an elegance of French flair.

Ji Mingshu was led by a waiter all the way to the table Cen Yang had reserved. Along the way, she saw nothing but young couples out to have a big feast for the holiday.

Cen Yang waved at her from afar and rose to help her pull out the soft chair.

Ji Mingshu sat down, feeling slightly uneasy.

Cen Yang returned to his seat opposite her, poured her a little red wine, and asked with a smile: "Do you feel a bit awkward? Actually, I do too."

After pouring the wine, he pushed the glass forward by its base and continued: "Apologies, Xiaoshu, it was my lack of consideration. It seems everyone who is out eating a big dinner tonight is a young couple."

Since Cen Yang was so candid, Ji Mingshu felt embarrassed to continue acting uncomfortable.

She took a small sip of wine and shrugged gently: "It’s okay, I haven't eaten French food for a long time anyway."

Cen Yang nodded, and they ordered together.

For people who were once familiar with each other, it was far too simple to become warm again. The two naturally chatted from the dishes to their experience of eating French food for the first time when they were children.

Back then, both of them were very small and not very sensible. Ji Mingshu had pretended to reach out with her little hands to cut a steak, but somehow, plop, she cut the steak so it flew up, landing straight on Cen Yang’s face. Cen Yang hadn't held it against this little shrimp of a girl; instead, he had shown the responsibility of a big brother, cut his own steak, and exchanged plates with her.

Too much time had passed, and Ji Mingshu rarely remembered these things, but once Cen Yang brought them up, she gradually recalled them all. The more she thought about it, the more she felt that her childhood self was both funny and embarrassing. Unwilling to be outdone, she recalled some of Cen Yang’s childhood blunders to retaliate.

A full French meal could take up to two full hours. Eating with someone like Cen Sen, who operated on the principle of "counting one extra word as me losing," Ji Mingshu always felt it was boring and agonizing. Yet, eating with someone like Cen Yang, who could effortlessly come up with topics, was unexpectedly fulfilling from start to finish.

Moreover, Cen Yang, now that he was grown up, was just as he had been as a child: extremely aware of boundaries. The topics they discussed were all daily and relaxed; he didn't start off deep, bitter, and pining for the past, like asking one hundred thousand whys.

It wasn't until they were drinking coffee at the end that the smile on Cen Yang’s face faded slightly, and he brought up a sensitive topic: "I heard you married him. Is he good to you?"

Although Cen Yang had kept the atmosphere harmonious throughout, Ji Mingshu had felt a faint sense before she came... that he would definitely ask about Cen Sen. As expected, what was meant to come, came.

She also picked up her coffee, took a slight sip, thought about it seriously, and gave him an answer.

After hearing her out, Cen Yang was slightly stunned. After a while, he let out an "Mm" and lightly diverted the topic: "Let me take you home."

Ji Mingshu nodded, grabbed her clutch, and rose.

The French restaurant’s music was still ethereal and soothing, and the lighting was still quite atmospheric.

One hour, forty-three minutes, and thirty seconds.

Cen Sen sat not far away. He dropped his wrist and took a sip of coffee with an expressionless face.

At this time of year, the Christmas atmosphere was intense everywhere. The French restaurant also had a Christmas tree, and Christmas snowflakes were stuck to the windows. Only Cen Sen sat alone in the corner, appearing incompatible with this joyous and lively scene.

Watching Cen Yang and Ji Mingshu leave the restaurant, he also rose slowly.

Today he had driven himself. He hadn't notified her in advance because he wanted to go straight to Star Harbor International to pick up Ji Mingshu for dinner and a movie. He hadn't expected to encounter her hailing a cab to go out just as he arrived downstairs.

When he arrived, he had followed the taxi Ji Mingshu was riding in from a distance; when he left, he followed that white Mercedes in front of him from a distance.

The belated first snow fell.

He drove with the window down, seemingly unable to feel the coldness of the winter wind.