My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Why do you keep teasing her? She’s far more interesting than those plastic sisters in your circle."

After Jiang Chun left, Gu Kaiyang toyed with her straw, glancing sideways at Ji Mingshu.

Ji Mingshu spoke casually, "That's exactly why she's interesting. Don't you think she looks just like a penguin? So cute."

Gu Kaiyang paused, not even knowing where to begin rolling her eyes.

After teasing Jiang Chun and enjoying a full-body spa, Ji Mingshu’s mood was significantly better than it had been while soaking in the hot spring.

Contrary to the impression she had just given Jiang Chun, Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen actually had very little contact. Whether they were at home or abroad, neither tended to reach out to the other, let alone worry about whether they were spending the night together. Whether they bumped into each other at home usually depended entirely on fate.

Cen Sen’s offense early that morning had made Ji Mingshu want to avoid even that bit of fate.

She hadn't returned to Mingshui Manor all weekend, choosing instead to live carefree in her downtown apartment, while taking the opportunity to refine her design drafts.

She had to admit, Cen Sen’s mockery had struck a nerve with her self-esteem. As she repeatedly reviewed her drawings alongside photos of the gala site, she suddenly felt grateful that in this industry, the interior designers usually didn't get their names attached to the work.

Cen Sen hadn't returned to Mingshui Manor either. Freshly back in the country, he was overwhelmed with social obligations. Besides, the main event at the company had only just begun; how could the protagonist leave the stage early?

On Monday, following Cen Sen's transfer notice taking over the group, Junyi employees were hit with another bombshell.

Without any warning, the internal network published personnel changes for dozens of high-level executives. Among them was the current General Manager, Huang Peng—the man who had failed to appear when Cen Sen first arrived at the company, sending his secretary to deliver a warning instead.

These so-called personnel changes, to put it simply, meant they were fired.

Outside the president’s office on the 68th floor, a line of bodyguards in black stood guard from early in the morning.

It was a spectacle at Junyi that day:

Several executives, furious and ready to fight, stormed the president’s office to demand an explanation, only to be dragged out by the bodyguards without mercy and shoved into the elevators.

Some executives, appearing to have lost their minds, abandoned all pretense of their usual high-status image after being dragged out. They cursed and raved in front of their employees, floor by floor, acting with a level of indecency that was hard to watch.

People are strange creatures who never learn their lessons unless the pain hits home. If any of the "parasites" from the Southern Cen family branch who had been entrenched in the company a few years ago were still there, they certainly wouldn't have found today’s scene unusual.

In truth, Cen Sen had been relatively gentle today. After all, the last time he’d had to deal with them, he’d had his bodyguards throw them directly out of the group’s headquarters building.

The last person to visit the president’s office was Huang Peng.

The name Huang Peng might sound somewhat coarse and round, but he himself was lean, with gentle features and a very stylish way of dressing.

Approaching sixty, he maintained his appearance like a charming man in his early forties at the prime of his life, fitting perfectly with the praises of being "graceful, refined, and elegant."

One could imagine that if he weren't so fond of grooming himself or prone to lecturing others on life and philosophy before taking them to bed, young women in their twenties wouldn't be like Xibao, forsaking sons for fathers.

"Uncle Huang, please sit."

Cen Sen invited him to sit with polite warmth, but Huang Peng struggled to maintain his usual composure—the air of having everything under control.

He stood straight, and his voice carried a cold stiffness he couldn't suppress. "No need. I’m afraid I can’t claim the status of an uncle to you, Mr. Cen."

"Uncle Huang, what are you saying?" Cen Sen leaned back slightly against his chair and got straight to the point. "If it weren't for your sake, why would I bother with Xiaofeng? Xiaofeng has been playing around without a sense of boundaries lately. In my opinion, he could use a lesson or two."

He had been preparing for some things for too long to bother with beating around the bush.

Upon hearing this, Huang Peng’s pupils shrank.

Huang Zifeng was Huang Peng’s only son. He had been a degenerate since childhood, incapable of any good and skilled in every vice. At eighteen, he had even fought his own father for a woman, and the family scandal had become famously public.

As it turned out, the girl preferred the mature, steady type, discarding the son like a worn-out shoe and clinging steadfastly to Huang Peng.

Because of this, their already disharmonious father-son relationship deteriorated further. Over the last few years, Huang Zifeng had become increasingly wild; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a societal failure.

"What did you do to Xiaofeng?"

Huang Peng’s voice lowered, the nervousness in his words impossible to miss.

He had always been prone to hitting and scolding his worthless son, but he was, after all, the only heir to the "Huang" position. If it weren't for Huang Peng’s open discipline and secret indulgence, he wouldn't have turned into the waste of space he was today.

Cen Sen clasped his hands together and said slowly, "A few days ago, when I was in Xingcheng, I happened to run into Xiaofeng playing too hard with his friends. He was detained by the police. I’ve already sent word to the precinct, Uncle Huang. No need to be nervous."

Busy dealing with the massive maneuvers of the Cen father and son, Huang Peng hadn't had the time to worry about where Huang Zifeng was out gallivanting. Now, thinking carefully, he realized he hadn't had news of Huang Zifeng for about a week.

Huang Peng knew exactly what kind of person his own flesh and blood was. Last year, when he’d been caught in a sordid affair with three men and three women, it had taken Huang Peng a great deal of effort to fish him out. The fact that he’d been detained for this long without a peep meant Cen Sen was clearly prepared.

The air fell into a stifling silence.

Huang Peng’s tense expression softened, his attitude suddenly becoming much milder. He thanked him first, then began to harp on their old ties.

"Come to think of it, you and Xiaofeng are like brothers. Back in high school, he’d have 'Brother Sen' on the tip of his tongue every day. Time flies—it’s been so many years. He isn't like you; he’s a failure."

As he spoke, he shook his head to himself.

Unfortunately, Cen Sen remained indifferent, as if he hadn't heard a word. He opened a document at his side, took off the cap of his fountain pen, and pushed both items toward Huang Peng.

"Retirement is a good thing. Uncle Huang will have plenty of time to discipline Xiaofeng in the future."

He was wearing only a tailored dark shirt today. As he raised his hands to adjust his collar, the square silver cufflinks on his wrists were visible. Much like the new black, white, and gray metal elements in the office, they made his entire demeanor look icy cold.

This battle had been won long ago.

Seeing that Cen Sen was completely immune to emotional appeals, the softness on Huang Peng’s face stiffened, then slowly faded away.

After a long silence, Huang Peng took a step forward.

He stared straight at Cen Sen. He was very slow to take the pen, refusing to lower his back, and he didn't even glance at the paper when he signed his name at the bottom.

Cen Sen didn't avoid his gaze. Once Zhou Jiaheng confirmed the signature, he said coldly, "Don't worry, Uncle Huang. I’ve booked a table at Lanlou for Xiaofeng as a welcome-back meal. If you head over now, the timing will be perfect. I have too much work at the company, so I won't be going."

Veins pulsed faintly on Huang Peng’s forehead, and the corners of his mouth twitched subtly. Without another word, he left the office.

Although he hadn't bent his back once from start to finish, his silhouette as he left seemed less upright than when he had entered.

Once he was gone, Zhou Jiaheng stepped forward as if nothing had happened and reported to Cen Sen, "Mr. Cen, Jinsheng has agreed to transfer that plot of land in the north of Xingcheng. Furthermore, Chairman Lu lowered the price by five percent. I’ve already prepared gifts to be sent to Jinsheng. The legal department is reviewing the contract, and we expect to sign this week."

Cen Sen nodded.

"This is the adjusted schedule for this week. Please take a look," Zhou Jiaheng said, handing over a tablet. "Also, there was a call from Nanqiao Alley, asking you and your wife to go over for dinner tonight."

Cen Sen looked at the tablet and nodded again.

For some reason, he suddenly asked, "Is my wife home?"

Zhou Jiaheng kept his gaze low, focusing on his own affairs. "She is at Baicui Tianhua."

Baicui Tianhua was a famous hotel-serviced apartment complex in the capital. In a place where land was as expensive as gold, high prices weren't a surprise. Baicui Tianhua became famous for the concept of circle culture it had built.

When Baicui Tianhua first opened, there were rumors that it had strict background checks for buyers, rejecting many celebrities who wished to purchase units.

Whether that was true or just marketing hype was hard to verify now, but it had indeed been successfully established as a gathering place for blockchain magnates.

Ji Mingshu’s apartment there was a wedding gift from her uncle, Ji Rusong, occupying the entire top floor.

On one side was a twenty-meter-long, arc-shaped panoramic floor-to-ceiling window; on the other, a wide terrace like an aerial pavilion, providing a clear view of the southern capital.

Ji Mingshu kept many flowers, plants, and small trees on the terrace. Despite being a greenhouse flower who didn't know how to take care of herself, the plants she raised grew wildly into an exotic garden, flamboyant and vibrant.

When Cen Sen arrived downstairs, Ji Mingshu had just finished a design draft she was satisfied with.

She looked at the drawing repeatedly, wishing she could call Gu Kaiyang and tell them to host another gala immediately, then drag Cen Sen to the site just to let him open his dog eyes and see exactly how earth-shattering and profound the true level of the Great Miss Ji was.

After admiring it 180 times, Ji Mingshu rose with satisfaction, stretched, and stepped through the mess to draw water for her bathtub.

Living alone, she didn't have to be formal, so she had specifically placed the bathtub in the sunroom.

Once the water was filled, she casually turned on some music, closed the curtains facing the window, and submerged herself in the warm water.

Downstairs, Cen Sen called Ji Mingshu twice. The calls went through, but no one answered.

When he got upstairs, he patiently rang the doorbell for a full minute, but there wasn't a sound from inside, so he swiped his card to unlock the door.

The odd thing was that the apartment had excellent soundproofing; it was silent outside, but as soon as he opened the door, a deafening blast of heavy metal music poured out.

Cen Sen stood at the door, thinking for a moment that Ji Mingshu, in the middle of a sunny day, couldn't stand the loneliness and was hosting a party with a bunch of low-IQ creatures.

When he saw the chaotic but empty apartment, he heard a female rapper’s passionate, unhinged voice mixed into the music:

"Hey boy, look me!"

"..."

Cen Sen followed the sound, only to see Ji Mingshu sitting in the middle of a pool of bubbles, holding a megaphone in one hand and raising the other high, occasionally making a "yoyo" gesture toward the ceiling.

"Ji Mingshu is a fairy!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"A fairy who topples nations!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"A fairy you can't sleep with!"

"Fairy! Fairy!"

"Your ultimate bias! Bias! Skr~!"

A "skr" accompanied by a hand gesture of aiming a gun finished the verse perfectly, but the air fell into dead silence at that very second.

Through the glass of the sunroom, Ji Mingshu felt as though she could see a cold line written on Cen Sen’s face: Oh, but I have.