Inside the pub, the music remained lively and energetic, the lights still a mix of colorful crisscrosses. But when that slap landed, it was as if it came with its own spotlight effect. With Ji Mingshu at the center, all surrounding gazes converged.

—”Listen now, does one hand make a sound when it slaps?”

—”Yes, extremely loud.”

The spectators silently answered in their hearts.

The little white flower had recently acted in a historical web drama. The drama followed a mindless, lighthearted style that lacked logic but generated high discussion and was considered a minor hit. As the second female lead, she had become somewhat recognizable.

Looking toward the source of the sound, many people recognized her, and immediately, flashes from secret photos accompanied by whispers rose and fell.

Most people didn’t care much about the origin of the conflict; they were more surprised that someone would get physical at Young Master Zhang’s birthday party. Was this young lady trying to slap Young Master Zhang’s face or deliberately causing trouble?

Zhang Baoshu, sitting not far away, was also completely stunned.

Earlier, from a distance, she couldn’t see the face clearly, but now, seeing Ji Mingshu up close, she unconsciously began to acknowledge what Cen Sen had said that night.

With a pearl nearby, why bother with fireflies?

The scene remained oddly silent for dozens of seconds amid the lively uproar.

The little white flower’s friend came to her senses and quickly shielded her, shouting at Ji Mingshu: “How could you do this? Who are you? What are you trying to do by hitting someone?”

“Exactly, can’t you talk things out properly? Do you have any class?” Another person chimed in.

The little white flower herself didn’t speak, just biting her lip with a pitiful look as if she hadn’t recovered her senses.

But she quickly remembered that day in Paris when this woman had also stood up for Jiang Chun, forcing Yan to apologize.

At that time, Yan seemed unwilling to argue with this woman, so this woman probably had some background.

Thinking of this, she pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and remained silent, executing the white lotus flower trilogy with perfect fluency.

Her friend, completely oblivious, still maintained a righteous attitude of “we’re the ones who have been wronged,” asking Ji Mingshu one after another to explain.

Ji Mingshu didn’t even bother to lift her eyelids. She took a warm towel that the little country bumpkin had conjured up from somewhere, unhurriedly wiped her hands, with a casual arrogance in the corners of her eyes and eyebrows, perfectly portraying the “I’ll hit you when I want, regardless of the occasion” fearless demeanor.

If anyone present tonight had dealt with Cen Sen before, they might have discovered that this couple handled people in the same high-handed manner.

Soon, Young Master Zhang came over after hearing the commotion.

The little white flower’s friend was equally plastic. Seeing Zhang the Second’s approach, her voice suddenly became coquettish, trying to use this opportunity to act poutingly toward him, “Boss Zhang, what’s with this young lady? She just came over and hit someone for no reason. Today is your birthday party, isn’t this disrespecting you?”

Zhang the Second was stunned for three seconds by the coquettish voice, looking left and right, not yet understanding how these completely unrelated women could have any connection.

Fortunately, he hadn’t started drinking yet, so his mind was quite clear. After figuring out who hit whom, he relaxed a little.

He quickly turned his head and attentively asked: “Sister Shu, is your hand okay? Does it hurt? Should I find someone to bring some medicine?”

Ji Mingshu smiled lightly, “It’s fine. I’m sorry, it’s your birthday, I should have held back.”

She really hadn’t intended to crash someone’s party, but coincidentally, when she just went to the restroom with Jiang Chun, the little white flower’s bitchy “it takes two hands to make a clap” remark had fallen perfectly into her ears, and she acted impulsively without much thought.

Zhang the Second waved his hand dismissively, “Hey! It’s no big deal! Sister, as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters!”

He called someone over to bring a fresh towel for Ji Mingshu’s hand, and a string of flattering words poured out.

In a free moment, he turned back to glance at the little white flower and her sisters. He didn’t do anything to them; after all, it was his birthday, and he didn’t want to make the atmosphere too tense.

But someone didn’t know better. Ji Mingshu didn’t want to cause more trouble at someone else’s birthday party, but there was still someone who made a cold snort for show after she turned around.

Ji Mingshu paused slightly and looked back.

The one who snorted was the little white flower’s friend, quite arrogant, not even looking directly at her.

The little white flower continued to cover the side of her face that had been slapped, tears welling in her eyes but not falling.

Ji Mingshu found it amusing, “You’re already a mistress, but still not prepared to get slapped at any time? Your professional quality isn’t up to par.”

Zhang the Second suddenly got angry too, turning back with an impatient frown, “What’s wrong with you all? Who smuggled in these things? Are you deliberately trying to ruin the last ten years before I turn thirty? It’s my birthday, and you’re here crying as if at a funeral. What grievance do I have with you?”

The little white flower was so startled that the tears that had been skillfully welling in her eyes suddenly fell.

Zhang the Second was even more furious, not wanting to speak anymore, just gesturing for someone to remove these inauspicious people.

The surrounding crowd was silent, not knowing whether they hadn’t reacted yet or were shocked by Zhang the Second’s completely illogical double standards.

Even by the end of the birthday party, Jiang Chun still hadn’t recovered her senses.

She pulled Ji Mingshu aside and asked very directly: “Why is Zhang Lin so obsequious to you? Isn’t the Zhang family quite powerful, too? This seems excessive, it’s almost unbearable to watch.”

“His brother doesn’t need to be, but he wasn’t born to Mrs. Zhang,” Ji Mingshu said casually.

Jiang Chun looked confused, “What? He wasn’t born to Mrs. Zhang? But… isn’t he very pampered in the Zhang family?”

“Being pampered doesn’t conflict with him being an illegitimate child. Haven’t you studied logic?”

“No,” Jiang Chun answered seriously.

Ji Mingshu was momentarily speechless, then asked: “How many years have you been in the capital, and you still don’t know anything?” She was truly shocked by this little country bumpkin’s ignorance.

But Jiang Chun wasn’t ashamed; instead, she seemed proud, with an attitude of “I’m ignorant but still righteous,” linking arms with her and saying: “Nobody told me before. Since you know everything, why don’t you teach me?”

“No.”

“You just stood up for me, aren’t we good friends now? Haven’t you heard of ‘once sisters, sisters for life’?”

I’ve never heard of it, and who’s sisters with you, little country bumpkin?

Ji Mingshu gave her a “please stop trying to take advantage of me” look.

But Jiang Chun held onto her and wouldn’t let go, even threatening her with the men’s restroom incident, insisting on dragging her to her own car, saying she wanted to show her the luxury apartment she had bought in the city center.

Along the way, Ji Mingshu was pestered by Jiang Chun into revealing many secrets of high society, leaving Jiang Chun utterly amazed.

As they entered the apartment elevator, they were still discussing a model couple in their circle.

Jiang Chun asked in surprise: “Is it really that messy? I thought they were very loving. From what you’re saying, everyone is just using each other, and few people are truly in love.”

Ji Mingshu was about to nod and tell her the painful truth that “reality is full of disappointments.”

But after Jiang Chun swiped the elevator card, she corrected herself: “No, I think you and Cen Sen are quite good together. Cen Sen dotes on you.”

…?

Ji Mingshu was momentarily unable to refute.

Jiang Chun’s apartment wasn’t far from Boicui Tianhua, about a ten-minute drive, also in a prime location, though this area had more commercial districts and was a bit noisy at night.

But Jiang Chun herself liked it very much; all her favorite bubble tea shops were within a 500-meter radius.

As soon as they entered, Ji Mingshu was shocked.

Jiang Chun proudly showed her around, “How is it? Look here, and here, I had a designer renovate it all. It originally came fully furnished, but the original design was so impractical and ugly.”

“Could it be uglier than what you’ve changed it to?” Ji Mingshu looked at the wall of suburban-style plastic flower sliding door wardrobes, feeling like she had dreamed back to the 1990s. “Are you planning to open a farmhouse restaurant at home?”

Ji Mingshu looked at the ugly house that Jiang Chun treasured, not knowing where to start.

Yet Jiang Chun was very stubborn, dragging the completely uninterested Ji Mingshu back and forth to show her around, attempting to change her aesthetic sense.

Ji Mingshu stopped at the bookshelf, looking at the books inside: “My Private Makeup Techniques,” “How to Capture His Heart,” “How to Become an Elegant Beauty,” “100 Ways to Improve Your Emotional Intelligence,” “The Cold CEO and the Ditzy Angel”…

Seeing Ji Mingshu staring at the book with “CEO” in the title, Jiang Chun pulled it out and handed it to her, “The name sounds a bit awful, but it’s quite good. Take a look.”

Ji Mingshu avoided it like the plague, with a look of disgust, “Take it away, I never read this kind of thing. What taste do you have?”

Jiang Chun: “Really, won’t read it? How can there be a girl who doesn’t read romance novels? You’re too strange.”

I do read romance novels, but not these outdated, simplistic ones, okay? Ji Mingshu thought with a blank expression.

Jiang Chun still tried to force her recommendation, “But I don’t read paper books much anymore. You should download the Jinjiang app; the novels on Jinjiang are quite good.”

Ji Mingshu didn’t respond.

After touring the ugly house, they sat on the sofa and chatted.

Ji Mingshu had never had much concept of time; as long as she wasn’t sleepy, she could stay awake until dawn.

It was Jiang Chun who suddenly reminded her, “Oh, it’s almost midnight. Do you want to send your husband a message to check in? Being out so late, he must be worried about you.”

Ji Mingshu instinctively wanted to say, “He’s not my boss, why the hell should I report to him?” But to avoid shattering the little country bumpkin’s last hope for a beautiful marriage, she perfunctorily made an “mmm” sound and opened WeChat.

Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen’s chat history was still on the previous rainbow-fart compliments.

Jiang Chun glanced but didn’t see everything, exclaiming with surprise and envy: “I wouldn’t have thought your husband was so good with words.”

Ji Mingshu: “…”

She thought for a moment, if she directly followed Jiang Chun’s suggestion and reported to Cen Sen that she hadn’t returned yet, with his way of thinking, he would probably assume that her sudden check-in was hinting that she had been kidnapped.

So what should she say before getting to the main point?

She remembered the noodles Cen Sen had made and got an idea.

Ji Mingshu: [What duck did you eat tonight?]

After sending it, Ji Mingshu admired her work. Good, a normal conversation that wouldn’t make her seem unusually enthusiastic. Plus, the cute tone would give Jiang Chun the illusion that “our husband-wife relationship is really good.”

After about three minutes, Cen Sen replied.

Cen Sen: [Didn’t eat duck.]

When Jiang Chun saw this message, her eyes sparkled with hearts, “Your husband is so cute! So this is what he’s like in private. I really couldn’t tell at all.”

She quickly nudged Ji Mingshu, urging: “He says he didn’t eat anything, he definitely wants you to comfort him. Quick, say something back!”

Ji Mingshu’s back tingled, feeling that tonight’s Cen Sen was so cute it was as if his account had been hacked.

The next second, a new message came in on WeChat.

Cen Sen: [Ate bamboo shoots.]

Jiang Chun & Ji Mingshu: “…”

The ugly house fell into silence as both went through a series of psychological processes from complete confusion to vaguely understanding something to sudden realization.

After three seconds of eye contact, Ji Mingshu saw in Jiang Chun’s eyes the complex emotions of “don’t call me country anymore, your husband is more rustic than me” and “doesn’t your husband’s job require internet connection?” filled with superiority and disbelief.

Excuse me.

Humble.jpg

That night, there was a business dinner with Japanese partners, and the dishes on the table were half local customs and half catering to the partners’ tastes. But Cen Sen didn’t particularly like any of them, only taking a few bites of the oil-braised bamboo shoots.

The business dinner ended late at night. The cold wind dispersed most of the alcohol, and there were no stars in the night sky.

When he returned home, Cen Sen found that Ji Mingshu had already come back.

Earlier, when he received Ji Mingshu’s message, he had asked Zhou Jiaheng where his wife was in the evening.

Zhou Jiaheng said she had gone to Zhang Lin’s birthday party and then to Jiang Chun’s apartment.

Cen Sen had thought that Ji Mingshu, being such a party animal, wouldn’t be coming back tonight.

Ji Mingshu had indeed not planned to return, firstly because Jiang Chun’s apartment was too ugly to sleep in, and secondly because she had finally grasped a handle on Cen Sen and wanted to return to wait for him to properly mock him.

Unexpectedly, after showering and lying in bed reading a novel, she had fallen asleep without realizing it.

Cen Sen glanced at her but didn’t bother to interact.

By the time he finished showering, Ji Mingshu had changed position and was occupying most of the bed space, though her hand was still tightly gripping her phone.

He walked to the bedside, effortlessly picked up Ji Mingshu, arranged her into a proper position, and then tried to take the phone from her hand.

It was at this moment that Ji Mingshu woke up.

She opened her eyes sleepily, looked at Cen Sen, then at the screen time, her consciousness not fully awake. She turned over and continued sleeping.

With this turn, she automatically released the phone, and that brief opening of her eyes had inadvertently unlocked the phone’s facial recognition.

When it came to Cen Sen’s hands, the screen was stopped at the Weibo interface she had been viewing before sleep.

To be precise, it wasn’t the Weibo interface but a Weibo-promoted advertisement novel interface.

Cen Sen glanced at it.

“When Shang Guanhao Ran took Mu Ziwei’s cornea and kidney, Mu Ziwei’s heart was already dead. Three years later, Mu Ziwei returned to B City, originally just wanting to live this life peacefully, but that cold, heartless, hard, and ruthless empire commander held her tightly again, ‘Woman, trying to escape? In this life, you will never escape from my palm.’ Mu Ziwei’s eyes were full of fear, ‘Isn’t taking my cornea and kidney enough for you?’ ‘Not enough, I want your heart…”

Cen Sen paused, lost in thought about something, and even clicked to browse the first image.

Ji Mingshu seemed to be sleeping restlessly. She had just turned to one side, but after a while, she turned back, the small blanket wrapped tightly around her, her bare arm exposed outside, covering the position of her heart.

Cen Sen: “…”