My Queen, My Rules - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ji Mingshu, who was far away at home, did not know that her "cheap husband" had actually uttered a word of praise about her in his lifetime.

She slept early, but she had forgotten to adjust the humidifier before bed, and the room was a bit dry. As she slept, she was woken up by thirst.

She got up in a daze, her eyes half-open, pushed open the bedroom door, and walked downstairs barefoot.

When she lived at Bo-cui Tian-hua, her bedroom had a refrigerator; getting water at night was just a matter of getting up, which was very convenient.

Thinking of this, she cursed Cen Sen in her heart again. He had dumped her back here without even asking, then ran off himself to attend social functions—he was truly acting like a scoundrel.

Unfortunately, the scoundrel himself returned at this very moment.

However, Ji Mingshu was half-asleep and incredibly thirsty, so she didn't notice him standing at the entrance as she walked downstairs.

Cen Sen had consumed quite a bit of alcohol that evening and hadn't been feeling great when the event ended, but he had strong self-control. Even when drunk, he appeared peaceful and composed; others couldn't discern anything amiss.

After changing his shoes in the entryway, Cen Sen tilted his head slightly, looking at the slender, graceful figure at the kitchen island.

He suddenly felt that he had left out two words when speaking to that little starlet named whatever-Shu earlier: body figure.

In terms of appearance, temperament, education, and background, she didn't compare to Ji Mingshu, and her body figure didn't compare either.

Since they married, this wasn't the first time a woman had come to him on her own initiative, nor was it the first time he had rejected one cleanly.

They were all decorative vases. Since he already had the most precious and beautiful one, why bother collecting damaged goods? He wasn't a professional garbage collector.

Ji Mingshu had just finished half a glass of ice water and hadn't had time to turn around when she suddenly discovered a pair of hands wrapped around her from behind, locking tightly onto her waist.

Her brain stalled for three seconds. She put down the water glass, turned her head, and was immediately caught by Cen Sen’s lips.

He closed the distance inch by inch; his lips and teeth were warm and restless, his breath carrying the scent of alcohol.

Ji Mingshu tried to struggle, but he reached out, pulled her arms behind her back, and clamped them down. His other hand pinched her chin, deepening the kiss until it was domineering.

Damn it.

Was he drugged?

Ji Mingshu kept looking for a chance to breathe. Her feet had been free at first, but after she kicked him twice, Cen Sen simply picked her up and sat her on the kitchen island. His lower body pressed against the counter, pinning her legs down tightly—it was the posture of someone intending to finish things right there.

"...Are you a pervert?! Let go of me!"

After being kissed for about a minute, Ji Mingshu finally found an opening in Cen Sen’s embrace. She kicked hard at his lower body and managed to free her hands, pressing against his face to push him away.

Cen Sen was pushed back half a step. Ji Mingshu was exhausted; she sat on the edge of the kitchen island, gasping heavily.

The first floor didn't have the ceiling lights on, only a band of warm yellow lighting.

In the dim light, her smoky-pink silk nightgown and snowy-white skin shimmered with a faint luster, while her lips were wet and glistening from the kiss. She looked like a gorgeous yet pure female ghost, inadvertently letting out little hooks, drawing people in without realizing it.

Cen Sen was clearly hooked.

His finger scraped slowly across her lower lip in the opposite direction. He looked at Ji Mingshu and suddenly gave a very faint laugh.

Ji Mingshu sensed something was wrong and scooted backward.

But she had nowhere to hide. She could only watch helplessly as Cen Sen stepped forward and effortlessly swept her up horizontally in his arms.

"What are you doing! Put me down! You pervert! I can report you for marital rape!"

As they went upstairs, Ji Mingshu punched, kicked, and struggled violently in Cen Sen’s arms.

However, because she strictly controlled her figure through diet and didn't exercise regularly, no matter how hard she struggled, to Cen Sen, it was no more than a little kitten scratching an itch.

"Go ahead and report it. Your second uncle was transferred to the Beijing Municipal Bureau this year; it will be very convenient for you to report me to him," Cen Sen said unhurriedly.

He smelled of alcohol, his collar was disheveled by Ji Mingshu, and he offered a nonchalant smile that gave him the air of a refined scoundrel.

Ji Mingshu flailed a few more times, but just before entering the bedroom, she suddenly paused—

Amidst the smell of smoke and alcohol, a familiar sweet, cloying scent drifted over.

She quickly recognized which perfume it was.

She sniffed it carefully again.

It really was.

In Ji Mingshu’s perception, this perfume was a generic "young girl" scent; if the probability of smelling this in a shopping mall was ranked second, the only thing ranked first would be Chanel No. 5. She had sprayed it once when she was in high school and had been teased by her friends for smelling like a "total green tea bitch."

"Have you been playing around with pure college girls outside? Where did this perfume smell come from? You come back to touch me after playing with other women? Isn't that disgusting?"

Ji Mingshu’s eyes were filled with undisguised revulsion.

Cen Sen kicked open the half-closed bedroom door, threw her onto the bed, and then leaned over, bracing his hands on either side of her waist to trap her in his embrace.

Ji Mingshu recoiled defensively.

Cen Sen said in a low voice, "You haven't studied math in a few years, so you can't even calculate time anymore? How long has it been since I sent you back until now? Do you think I'm that fast?"

"..."

Being so shamelessly blatant was truly a rare sight in this world.

Ji Mingshu was so wound up by his logic that she couldn't speak for a long while.

Cen Sen didn't make any further moves. He stood up, took off his shirt, and headed straight to the bathroom.

Ji Mingshu stared at the direction of the bathroom for a few seconds, then pulled at her nightgown and sniffed it, terrified that she might have been tainted by the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume she disliked.

Soon, the sound of splashing water came from the bathroom. Ji Mingshu tucked herself into the quilt and thought carefully.

Actually, having been married to Cen Sen for so long, they could be considered to have a certain degree of understanding of each other.

Cen Sen was the type of man who was full of ambition and desire for his career but didn't have much patience for women or emotions.

She figured he might have casual dalliances to satisfy his needs, but he shouldn't be keeping a mistress outside; after all, maintaining an improper relationship would take too much energy for him.

Thinking of this, she suddenly let out a self-deprecating snort, remembering the criticism Gu Kaiyang had given her, hating her for not living up to her potential, before the marriage—

"Your only requirement for your husband is that he shouldn't keep a mistress outside, and if he does, he shouldn't create a scene and embarrass you?! Are you really so humble for a rich, beautiful socialite like you???"

Thinking about it carefully, she really was quite humble.

The Jingbei Ji family was a genuine, high-ranking noble clan. Born into such a family, she had seen and witnessed too much since she was young. She was deeply aware that the wealthier a place was, the more filth it could hide. Harmonious marriages and families were too rare in this social stratum. For a family-arranged marriage like hers and Cen Sen’s, being able to appear affectionate in front of others was already quite an achievement.

On the whole, she was fairly satisfied with Cen Sen; he was handsome, good in bed, not clingy, and let her spend his money however she liked.

Before going to sleep, she thought: It’s perfectly fine to keep it like this. There’s no need for us to teach each other about life for the rest of our days. Let’s just drift through life like this.

Soon, the annual Paris Autumn/Winter Haute Couture Week arrived, and Ji Mingshu received invitations from major brands early on.

She had been attending fashion shows since she was eight years old, having cultivated a refined taste amidst gold and jade. In the Jing-Hu circle of socialites, she could be considered a trendsetting figure at the forefront of fashion.

Before departing for Paris, Ji Mingshu went through a series of energetic preparations at home.

Whatever brand’s show she was attending, she had to dress in that brand’s attire. She wasn't a celebrity, so airport looks for staged photos could be omitted, but afternoon tea looks, evening gala looks, and her favorite high-jewelry exhibition looks were non-negotiable.

In two or three days, Ji Mingshu had packed seven suitcases.

Actually, for her, this was still "light travel." She also had custom dresses already made at a couture workshop, which she could just put on once she arrived in Paris to attend the shows.

About to head out and splurge again, Ji Mingshu was in a great mood and looked at Cen Sen with a smile over these past few days.

Cen Sen didn't quite understand this type of pleasure belonging to a "decorative vase." He only knew that every time Ji Mingshu went abroad to watch a show with a glowing complexion, the number of suitcases she brought back would inevitably double.

Moreover, during this period, his credit card activity would constantly update, as if reminding him that the high-end canary he had married in this lifetime was likely without a rival when it came to squandering money.

When Cen Sen graduated from university, Old Man Cen had given him a Gulfstream as a graduation gift. He rarely flew in it, but after he married Ji Mingshu, Ji Mingshu certainly knew how to put it to good use.

Traveling to Paris on a private jet late at night, Ji Mingshu slept soundly for eleven hours on the plane. When she woke up, the sky over Paris was just beginning to brighten.

A dedicated car was waiting at the airport. By the time she arrived at the hotel, the suite butler had already brewed coffee for her, prepared various breakfasts, and arranged invitations and gifts from major brands into the shape of a heart.

The room had been selected by the butler in advance, fully meeting all the requirements she had customized beforehand. There was even a small surprise prepared—the room number was her birthday, and the corner of the bedding had her English name embroidered in a subtle pattern.

After finishing breakfast at the hotel, Ji Mingshu changed her outfit and prepared to go shopping.

When she went downstairs, she remembered Gu Kaiyang and dialed a video call to offer some consolation.

As a deputy editor for a fashion magazine, Gu Kaiyang naturally couldn't be missing from Fashion Week, though they had arrived two days early as a team.

When she received Ji Mingshu’s video call, Gu Kaiyang was personally inspecting the details of over a dozen gowns intended for a shoot.

She had been so busy these past two days that her feet hadn't touched the ground and she was feeling dizzy. Seeing Ji Mingshu on the other side of the screen, wearing sunglasses and looking radiant while having the leisure to walk down the stairs to aid her digestion, Gu Kaiyang rattled off a complaint: "I swear I’ll never criticize you high-society arranged marriages ever again. It’s simply too blissful!"

"Do you know? This cleaning lady hasn't closed her eyes for two whole days! Seriously, you can’t imagine how stingy our group is! Come to think of it, it’s also strange; back when I wasn't the deputy editor, the group was quite generous. They’d arrange suites for all four deputy editors at this level. How come it’s a standard room now that it’s my turn?! A room filled with messy clothes, and there isn't even a place to step! If they want to be any stingier, they might as well just arrange for us to sleep under an overpass!"

"I’m serious, I don't want to try anymore! Being a 'same-sex marriage' wife who marries a memorial tablet is nothing compared to this!"

Ji Mingshu: "Wait, who did you say is a 'same-sex marriage' wife marrying a memorial tablet?"

Gu Kaiyang: "Isn't this something you kept saying yourself? Don't blame me."

Ji Mingshu was just about to retort when her peripheral vision inadvertently caught a familiar figure.

Gu Kaiyang on the other side was still babbling endlessly. Ji Mingshu paused slightly, composedly switching her camera to the rear-facing lens, aiming it at a man and woman currently checking in at the hotel lobby.

At the same time, just as she expected, a groundhog-like screech from Gu Kaiyang came through her earphones.