My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 73

Chapter 73

At seven o'clock in the evening, after finishing the partnership discussions and leaving the hotel, Cen Sen stood on the portico, watching his business partners depart.

In Star City, at the transition between winter and spring, the branches along the road were bare, with not yet a sign of budding. The night breeze was damp and cold. Cen Sen leaned back slightly and asked, "Still no answer?"

Zhou Jiaheng looked down and replied, "No answer, but the call went through. The driver said that after the madam arrived there, she had him leave first."

The luxury car slowly pulled up to the portico. Cen Sen didn't ask further, simply letting Zhou Jiaheng open the car door for him.

Once inside, he leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes to feign sleep; in the dim night, the expression on his face was indistinct.

By the time they reached the residential complex where Ji Mingshu was visiting, the nearby elementary school had long since quieted down, but the square-dancing troupe was just entering its daily peak moment—an extra addition to their usual routine.

There were four groups outside the complex, each with different dance styles and songs. Combined with the elderly gentlemen playing the erhu and singing opera nearby, the evening cultural performance successfully managed to span across ancient and modern, domestic and foreign cultures.

Dancing was fine, but the problem was that they had blocked the main entrance of the complex. The security guard was nowhere to be found, leaving the Maybach unable to move forward or backward.

Cen Sen signaled the driver to stop, then stepped out to walk inside himself.

However, the walk wasn't very smooth either. In the short distance of two hundred meters, he was stopped by three elderly ladies asking about his marital status.

By the time he got rid of the ladies and entered the complex, it was nearly eight o'clock.

In the old residential area, the streetlights were scarce, with only a few patches of light spilling from the windows of each household.

Some were watching television, alternating between heart-wrenching drama and joyful laughter.

Some were just cooking their meal at this late hour, the sound of stir-frying mixing with smoke drifting outward.

Some were teaching their children to do homework; even from ten zhang away, one could feel the irritability and anger of parents disappointed that their child wouldn't "become steel."

For some reason, this environment gave Cen Sen a sense of long-lost familiarity.

——My uncle and aunt talk about it every day at home—that the show was full of scammers. It made it so we couldn't even live here. Except for the appliances given, everything else was just stuff that looked good but was useless.

——Ms. Ji, I’m truly sorry. I know you designers have your own vision, and you were all trying your best to meet the requirements we put forward before, but we didn't expect it to turn out like this.

——Living is living. Look, there’s not even a cabinet to put the big winter comforters in; how are we supposed to live here? The light you guys put in is pretty good, right? But once you place it there, it takes up a whole square meter. Our house is only so big, and it doesn't even provide much light—it’s just a huge nuisance.

……

Ji Mingshu sat on a stone bench by the flower bed, her hands wrapped around her knees, lost in a daze.

That afternoon, after she saw the unrecognizable renovated house through the security gate, she happened to run into the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Wang, returning from work.

They were quite embarrassed to see her, but after taking her on a tour of the house, that embarrassment turned into self-righteous resentment.

She left the fruit basket and managed to maintain politeness as she left, but she felt as if all her strength had been drained. She didn't want to do anything, didn't want to say anything, and just sat downstairs in a stupor.

Her taste had been praised since childhood. When she went to university, like many socialites, she chose a design major. While others picked jewelry or fashion design, she chose interior design just to stand out.

Fortunately, she did well; her professors often praised her for her talent and ideas.

After marrying Cen Sen, she didn't have a job, but that was just because she didn't want to work—she never felt there was a problem with her professional abilities.

When she ran away from home before, she wanted to prove to Cen Sen that she wasn't incapable of doing anything without him, so she successfully designed a runway show for Chris Chou, gaining both fame and fortune.

So, to this day, she firmly believed that as long as Ji Mingshu wanted to do something well, she could definitely succeed.

——Of course, her firm belief only lasted until six o'clock this afternoon.

"Are you cold?"

Cen Sen was clearly mediocre at the subject of "comforting"; his opening line was neither warm nor tender.

Ji Mingshu raised her eyes and said slowly, "If I weren't cold, would you not be planning to let me wear your coat?"

"Even if you were cold, I wouldn't plan to."

……?

Ji Mingshu thought she had heard wrong. What kind of nonsense was this dog of a man spouting?

"If you were going to catch a cold, you would have already. It’s not going to happen this very second."

Ji Mingshu: "..."

It was very strange; she clearly wanted to curse him, but in her heart, she was inexplicably agreeing with Cen Sen’s ruthless, capitalist, pragmatic logic.

So when Cen Sen reached out to her, she was like someone under a spell—she foolishly took his hand and obediently stood up from the stone bench.

Cen Sen hadn't expected her to be so compliant. Seeing her drooping, unhappy eyes, the various lines of reasoning he had prepared on the way here somehow suddenly vanished into smoke.

"The follow-up results were different from what you imagined?"

He took off his coat and wrapped it around Ji Mingshu, then ruffled her hair.

Ji Mingshu had been following his cold, heartless logic and hadn't felt so wronged anymore, but when he became inexplicably gentle, the grievances she had been brewing for half the night surged twice as hard, and her desire to vent reached its peak instantly.

"It’s not just 'different,' it’s way too different!"

Ji Mingshu rambled on and on, feeling more miserable the more she spoke, "…… Didn't we have to prepare a gift for the homeowners at the end? Their profile said they could play the piano and they had a music room before, so we prepared a new piano as the gift."

"Pianos are very expensive. At the time, we didn't have enough budget left, so we had to cooperate with the show's script and work as salespeople in the mall. I even ruined a pair of high heels at the time, but they actually sold the piano!"

"The most important thing is that they said my design was only good for looks and not practical at all. You didn't see the look of disdain on their faces. You tell me... you tell me, is my design really that bad?"

Ji Mingshu was too sad, and her voice began to choke up.

She looked at Cen Sen through teary eyes for a moment, and then suddenly tugged at his shirt buttons, finding fault with him.

"You are too bad. You promised to finish at seven and pick me up, but you didn't arrive until eight."

"Even Tang Zhizhou from Jiang Chun’s family knows how to kiss, hug, and lift her up. You wouldn't even let me wear your coat; you did it on purpose so I would catch a cold and get sick."

"You don't like me at all. You're a liar!"

When she said "liar," Ji Mingshu’s voice was clearly laced with tears. She hugged Cen Sen tightly, wiping her snot and tears onto his shirt with force.

A warm wetness suddenly soaked through his chest. Cen Sen couldn't say a single word of defense; he could only pat her shoulder gently and ruffle her hair.

At that instant, Cen Sen suddenly realized he had fallen into a misconception.

When his employees encountered setbacks, he could indeed ruthlessly throw files at them, telling them to go back and reflect on how they could work if they couldn't handle such a small matter.

Because he was the boss, he needed to maintain a sense of majesty that made people follow him.

But Ji Mingshu wasn't his employee; she was his wife.

His wife was very insecure and very dependent on him. Every time he showed even a little bit of concern, she could gain a lot of comfort.

"Don't cry anymore. I'll make you pork ribs when we get back, okay?" His voice was low and hoarse.

"Are you even human? You’re... you’re still thinking about ribs right now!" Ji Mingshu was sobbing, her words intermittent.

Cen Sen paused slightly, pondered for a moment, and explained, "I didn't mean that. Whatever you want to eat, I can make it."

Ji Mingshu leaned sulkily against his chest, not replying.

Cen Sen didn't say anything more. When Ji Mingshu’s sobbing quieted down, he gently lifted her face, and with his slightly rough fingertips, he wiped the tears from her face as gently as he could, bit by bit. He even kissed her slightly red eyes.

"Mingshu, I like you. I didn't lie to you."

In the dim night, Ji Mingshu saw her own reflection in his clear pupils, and she heard the sound of her own heart racing.

After returning to the hotel, Cen Sen went into the kitchen to cook.

Aside from his staple dish of braised pork ribs, Cen Sen also made boiled fish fillets. The tender, slippery black fish fillets were marinated and cooked in a pot until they were white and tender, piled high in a bowl. Finally, he poured a small pot of hot oil over them, and the scent of scallions, ginger, garlic, peppercorns, and other spices mixed with the aroma of the fish instantly hit them.

Ji Mingshu’s eyes were still red like a little rabbit’s, but sitting at the dining table, she couldn't help but swallow several times.

Actually, she didn't eat much at night, but being sad and upset consumed a lot of energy. The world wasn't worth it, and this dog of a man Cen Sen wasn't worth it, but the pork ribs and boiled fish were worth it.

After eating, Ji Mingshu seemed to recover her spirit. She hugged Cen Sen’s arm, leaned on his shoulder, and rambled on while reflecting and summarizing.

"Actually, it really was my lack of foresight. You told me about it before, but the plan was already hard to change. I only changed a few places; I originally thought it would be enough. It’s mainly my problem."

"But I feel this kind of residential design is different from hotels. Your Junyi hotels are positioned in the high-end market, mainly focusing on comfort and a sense of novel design. I can't let myself suffer because of this design setback, and then produce floor plans that are just full of storage space, right? You can't even use that in a designer hotel. I still need to go with you to inspect the designer hotels properly, that’s the real professional move."

……

That night, Ji Mingshu said a great many things.

Cen Sen also gave her some suggestions.

In the end, Ji Mingshu grew sleepy and actually fell asleep leaning on his shoulder.

Cen Sen carried her horizontally, placed her on the bed, and tucked her in.

After turning off the lights, he gently left a kiss on her forehead. Remembering her tear-filled accusation that Tang Zhizhou knew how to kiss, hug, and lift her up, his heart suddenly softened. He whispered very, very low in her ear, "Baby, goodnight."

After he finished speaking, he wanted to get up, but Ji Mingshu suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, with the triumph of having caught a small handle and a bit of sleepy, dazed cuteness, "I heard it, I heard it! Say it again, quickly, call me baby!”