My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Because the Zero magazine event leaned toward a relaxed and casual vibe, the stylist only gave Ji Mingshu a lazy, natural "effortless" curl, and her makeup was kept quite light and fresh.

For her outfit, Ji Mingshu chose a smoky pink, sleeveless strapless jumpsuit. Its flowing texture beautifully showcased her graceful shoulder and back lines, while also accentuating her body proportions to be extremely flattering.

When choosing a lip color, Ji Mingshu pulled out the large box of cosmetics she had recently purchased to discuss it with the stylist.

The two had slightly different opinions, so Ji Mingshu held the box up and asked Cen Sen, "Which color do you think I should wear?"

Cen Sen originally wanted to say "they're all good," but meeting Ji Mingshu's expectant eyes, he lowered his gaze without changing his expression and picked through the box carefully for a while.

Finally, he picked up a tube of rose-colored lip gloss and launched into a deep analysis—comparable to a corporate monthly summary—based on tone, texture, and suitability for the occasion.

Ji Mingshu and the stylist were left dumbfounded.

When he finished, Ji Mingshu hesitantly took the gloss from his hand, twisted it open to look, and suddenly fell into silence.

"..."

"Um, your analysis was excellent, but this is a liquid blush."

The atmosphere was awkward for a moment, but fortunately, the stylist was quick-witted and joked that straight men are all like that when it comes to distinguishing cosmetics; even if it was blush, it was impressive that he could pick out such a beautiful color.

In the end, Ji Mingshu didn't waste Cen Sen's thorough and earnest analysis; she chose a matte lipstick in the same color.

The effect on her lips was indeed excellent—very flattering and well-suited to her overall makeup and look.

However, because of all the dilly-dallying and indecision, by the time they arrived at the event, they had successfully missed the outdated "chicken soup for the soul" speech by the editor-in-chief, May.

Ji Mingshu walked inside with her arm linked through Cen Sen’s, asking as if it were a casual afterthought, "What do you think of the venue today?"

"Very creative."

Cen Sen nodded, seeming quite approving.

She couldn't help but boast in a low voice, "I’m the interior design consultant for this event. The color palette and layout were all done by me."

"Is that so?" Cen Sen glanced at her and gave his affirmation once more, "Your recent works all have a certain spirit to them."

The corners of Ji Mingshu’s lips tugged upward again.

This scumbag husband of hers was truly strange. Sometimes he was as stubbornly dense as a wall of steel, and other times he was incredibly smooth!

For instance, his compliment just now—praising a designer for having "spirit" was undoubtedly the highest form of praise for her.

She was in a great mood. As they toured the venue, she unconsciously walked even closer to Cen Sen.

Cen Sen also quietly changed from arm-linking to holding hands, and he began to tell her about similar events he had attended while studying abroad in college.

Although he studied management, it didn't mean he lacked an appreciation for art.

In fact, from the moment he walked into the venue, he had recognized Ji Mingshu's design style.

His compliment wasn't insincere flattery—compared to the lack of heart she showed when doing charity galas, her recent designs were relatively complete and mature, and she had incorporated some personal highlights that were uniquely her own.

Furthermore, her design style was highly consistent with her own personality. Whether it was interior design, fashion shows, or exhibition-style creative designs like this salon, she maintained an extreme, unwavering refinement that made her work very easy to recognize.

From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them were holding hands, laughing and talking, appearing extremely intimate.

Someone noticed her from a short distance away, and soon a group of girls huddled together to whisper: "Hey, Ji Mingshu is here."

"Where?" The girl looked in that direction, feeling slightly surprised. "It really is... how long has it been since she came out? I didn't even see which corner she was sitting in at the last Chris Chou show, and she didn't attend the afterparty either. I thought she wouldn't show her face again before the New Year."

Another girl picked up the thread: "Who is that man next to her? He's quite handsome. So intimate—is it a new flame?"

Jiang Chun happened to be passing by with a small cupcake. Hearing their whispers, she was finally able to lift her head high with a smile and retort with a tone of contempt that suggested, "You really have no idea": "Don't you guys talk every day about whether Ji Mingshu and her husband are really going to divorce, and that Ji Mingshu is nothing without her husband? How come you don't even recognize her husband?"

...?!

This was Ji Mingshu’s husband?

The Cen family's cold, ruthless future successor?

So young?

So handsome?

Ji Mingshu was the type of person who would post photos on her Moments for even a single meal of ribs her husband cooked or a movie they watched together—why had she never flaunted such good looks?! This felt so unreal!!!

The group of girls fell into a long silence, stunned and bewildered.

In truth, one couldn't really blame them for being ignorant. They were merely peripheral figures in the capital’s wealthy circles, still too far removed from the core.

Moreover, Cen Sen was an elite, pragmatic worker at the top of the food chain among the younger generation, fundamentally different from the rich kids who spent their days drifting around and causing trouble. He appeared in public so rarely that he barely gave anyone the chance to get to know him.

Normally, a "high-ranking cadre" type of young master like him wouldn't even have his name remembered by the party crowd; at most, they knew there was someone like that in the Jingjian Cen family, someone far out of reach.

But he happened to have a socialite wife like Ji Mingshu, who was the center of attention wherever she went, creating this awkward situation: everyone was extremely concerned about Jingjian's development and knew the name "Cen Sen" by heart, but they couldn't actually match the name to the face.

Of course, there were plenty of people who knew him, and there were rumors about his looks and personality, but without photos or proof, who knew if Ji Mingshu was just bragging?

While they were frozen in their state of shock and confusion, Jiang Chun had already strolled away with her cupcake to find a good spot to take photos.

Since Ji Mingshu had finally managed to come out to an event with her husband, she wouldn't be so tactless as to go over and act as a third wheel.

Jiang Chun was tactful, but Ji Mingshu's usual "plastic" sisters were not.

Those who could become "plastic" friends with Ji Mingshu were naturally several tiers higher than the peripheral figures; among them, more people knew Cen Sen than didn't.

Seeing them attend a lower-status, casual event like a magazine salon, all the doubts stemming from Ji Mingshu’s prolonged absence vanished. Everyone flocked over to chat and shower Ji Mingshu with flattery.

Cen Sen had been playing with the sign-in tube with Ji Mingshu, but a wave of perfume suddenly surrounded him without warning, followed by an elegant, gentle stream of various compliments filling his ears.

He stood by Ji Mingshu’s side, his temples throbbing. Faced with questions that occasionally demanded his input, he would only nod slightly, making sure to maintain a polite, distant, and safe buffer from these young ladies who claimed to be Ji Mingshu’s "good friends."

Unfortunately, Ji Mingshu was accustomed to weaving through such situations with ease. Standing next to her, Cen Sen looked like a silent mascot in comparison.

After about five minutes, Ji Mingshu finally realized how out of place Cen Sen looked. She sent him off to get her a cupcake, thinking she’d leave in another two minutes.

But the moment Cen Sen left, someone—it was unclear who—hid their voice in the cloud of perfume and timidly said, "Xiao Shu, that Li Wenyin seems to be here today, too."

The formerly lively atmosphere suddenly froze.

Li Wenyin?

She was truly like a ghost that refused to be exorcised.

Soon, someone recovered and stood on Ji Mingshu's side to help speak out, "So what if she's here? Recently, she hooked up with that sickly one from the Yuan family, and even coaxed him into investing in her movie. Who knows who she's trying to disgust by shooting that kind of trash."

"She’s just jealous of Mingshu. It’s obvious to anyone. It was the same way back in school. Now she's all talk about 'cinematic art,' but that small-minded pettiness in her bones is something she can never change." One girl was a former classmate of Ji Mingshu and knew a little about how Li Wenyin used to go against her.

The others all chimed in in agreement.

But Ji Mingshu suddenly lost the heart to keep chatting with them.

She had an illusion that the scene from the last Xiang family cocktail party was repeating itself. The theme was the same, the relaxed atmosphere was the same, and everyone was standing on her side to denounce Li Wenyin—yet in the end, she had lost to Li Wenyin in a very ugly, very humiliating way.

She looked in the direction Cen Sen had left, dazed for a moment, then began walking silently to follow him.

The crowd she left behind looked at one another, then tacitly followed behind at a distance.

Everyone had different motives: some wanted to see Li Wenyin make a fool of herself, some wanted to see Ji Mingshu make a fool of herself, and others were just there to watch the drama.

As luck would have it, when Ji Mingshu followed them, Cen Sen and Li Wenyin happened to run into each other.

Li Wenyin had just taken a glass of red wine from a waiter's tray and, turning around, felt slightly surprised to see Cen Sen walking toward the dessert area.

In the next second, she caught sight of Ji Mingshu in the corner of her eye, along with the group of bored heiresses following a few meters behind. Her hand, clutching the wine glass, tightened involuntarily.

It was hard for her to describe her mood at this moment. She knew Cen Sen was here accompanying Ji Mingshu, and she knew Cen Sen had already made things crystal clear last time, yet she couldn't let go.

So many years had passed; Cen Sen had countless reasons not to continue their past, and she could understand that. But how could he bind himself for life to a woman like Ji Mingshu—someone with low tastes who treated a lack of brain cells as "frankness"? It was impossible for him to truly like Ji Mingshu, because Ji Mingshu simply didn't deserve it.

This feeling was so intense that it drove her to want to do something, even if it meant using some very cheap tactics, as long as it made Ji Mingshu understand that she and Cen Sen should never have been forcibly tied together.

She called over a waiter, took another glass of wine from the tray, and then walked gracefully toward Cen Sen. She held the glass slightly forward, her voice as gentle and proper as ever, "It’s been a long time. I didn't expect to run into you at an event like this."

Ji Mingshu stood five meters away, clutching her small diamond-encrusted handbag; her knuckles had turned white from the pressure, but she felt nothing.

Her mind was completely blank.

Only one thought supported her: Please, don't take it. Even if it's just out of politeness, can you please not be polite this one time?

Because in this life, she never wanted to see the person she liked standing together with the person she hated most ever again.

She was clearly Mrs. Cen; she was clearly very confident when facing others, but whenever she faced Li Wenyin, she just couldn't do it. Cen Sen had never taken a stand in front of Li Wenyin, and it seemed that in this lifetime, she would never have the strength to stand before Li Wenyin and confidently say, "Please, stay away from my husband."

Actually, no more than five seconds had passed since Cen Sen reacted, but to Ji Mingshu, these five seconds felt as long as an entire movie.

—She saw Cen Sen look down at the glass of wine, then slowly raise his eyes to look at Li Wenyin.

His gaze likely held no warmth, because the next second, he ignored her completely, took a piece of cake from the dessert table, and turned to walk away.

Then, the two of them met eyes in the air.

The interaction was so brief that Ji Mingshu could still see the indifference in his eyes when she looked at him.

Somehow, she suddenly gained the courage to step forward, take the cake from his hand, and say a very soft "Thank you."

Before Cen Sen could ask her what she was thanking him for, she brushed past him and took the glass of red wine from Li Wenyin's hand, pouring it downward without a second of hesitation.

The quality of the wine served at such an event was quite mediocre; those who knew wine could tell just by the color and smell. However, as the wine splashed onto the floor, the sound was exceptionally loud.

Ji Mingshu didn't bother checking for the tiny stains splattered on her jumpsuit. She finally spoke with the confidence that had circled in her mind a thousand times:

"Miss Li, please stay away from my husband in the future.”