Outside the window, the honey-colored sunset was sinking lower, while Cen Sen’s shadow at the bedside stretched longer.

Ji Mingshu was stunned for a few seconds. Once she understood the meaning of Cen Sen’s two words, her heart, which had been hanging at the edge of a cliff, was suddenly pulled back, and her ice-cold hands and feet gradually warmed up.

But looking at Cen Sen’s expression, she somehow felt a sense of condescending mockery.

She silently pulled up the blanket, wanting to hide her head.

Unfortunately, with one hand still receiving an IV drip, the blanket edge caught on the infusion tube, jostling the needle. Her attempt to curl up failed, and she couldn’t help letting out a soft hiss, drawing in a breath.

Cen Sen watched her quietly, his expression detached. Seeing her struggle with the infusion tube, he finally stepped forward to pull back the blanket, steadied the IV stand, and then calmly pressed the automatic elevation button, allowing her to sit halfway up.

Cen Sen: “Eat something first.”

Following his gaze to the bedside table, Ji Mingshu noticed a thermos and a medical chart.

She picked up the chart and glanced at it. Though she couldn’t understand the medical terminology, the three characters for “hypoglycemia” were quite clear.

“…”

So she had fainted from hunger. Somehow, it didn’t seem much more reasonable than cancer.

Ji Mingshu lowered her eyes, paused briefly, then stiffly put down the thin paper.

How embarrassing…

The hospital room was spacious, with a large floor-to-ceiling window offering a wide view, but the silence between them made the air seem cramped and awkward.

Ji Mingshu sat like a small child who had made a mistake and was quietly accepting punishment, both hands resting on her flat stomach, lightly picking at her nails, never raising her head to make eye contact with Cen Sen.

Yet today, unlike his usual impatience, Cen Sen raised the bed table, poured porridge, and tested its temperature, lacking only the act of personally feeding her to complete the image of a perfect husband.

This was completely different from what Ji Mingshu had imagined—that he would answer calls and return to the office as soon as she woke up. She suddenly didn’t dare pick at her nails anymore, didn’t dare move at all.

“Drink some, it’s not hot.”

Ji Mingshu nodded, swallowing a few spoonfuls as if the porridge were poisoned, then quickly put down the spoon.

“Can’t drink more?”

“Hmm…” Ji Mingshu wanted to say, “Can you go out and stop staring at me?” but the words transformed into stiff flattery at her lips, “The taste is just okay, not as good as what you make.”

As soon as she said it, she remembered that Cen Sen had never made porridge for her before, so she quickly changed the subject: “By the way, when can I leave the hospital?”

“It’s just hypoglycemia, you can leave anytime.”

“…”

Again, that subtle mockery. The little golden canary’s glass heart shattered.

While Ji Mingshu remained silent, Cen Sen also possessed the remarkable ability to maintain silence—”if you don’t speak, I can also remain silent; we might as well stay quiet until the end of time.”

Ji Mingshu stirred the white porridge aimlessly, suddenly suspecting this scoundrel was using a dull knife to slice flesh, subjecting her to slow torture.

But when she stole a glance at his expression, it didn’t seem that way.

After going back and forth on the edge of awkwardness for what felt like a hundred and eighty rounds, Ji Mingshu had to admit that, regardless of this scoundrel’s initial intentions, she had been worn down by this sudden patience.

She abruptly put down the spoon and raised her voice: “Can—can you stop staring at me? I want to sleep some more!”

Without waiting for Cen Sen’s answer, without daring to look at him, she pushed at the blanket with both hands and feet, hastily lying down.

Most troubling of all, her face began to heat up uncontrollably. No amount of psychological self-suggestion helped; the thought “how embarrassing” continued to dominate, like a double-speed scrolling comment, incessant whether her eyes were open or closed.

Cen Sen noticed her crimson ears and felt a slight stirring in his heart.

But it was just for a moment, with no time to dwell on it.

He tidied up the white porridge, left the room, and closed the door.

After hearing the door close, Ji Mingshu maintained her position for only four or five seconds before eagerly turning around. Seeing Cen Sen still standing by the window, she curled back without any backbone.

Cen Sen suddenly smiled.

Zhou Jiaheng, who had been waiting outside, looked up in surprise, but by then the hint of a smile on Cen Sen’s face had already disappeared.

Checking the time as he walked out, Cen Sen issued a series of work arrangements: “Find a company to collaborate with for marketing in Star City. The branch’s corporate communications capability is poor; they’ll need to be replaced sooner or later.”

Zhou Jiaheng: “Jiabar?”

“You arrange it.” Cen Sen’s voice was calm. “It’s about time to collect Rongjia Land’s debt, too. Find a time to talk with Mr. Chen. Also, don’t interfere with Wei Chengfeng and Huang Peng’s private communications yet, and don’t let the others intervene. It’s not time yet.”

“Yes.”

Zhou Jiaheng followed at his side. Seeing that Cen Sen had finished discussing business, he wanted to ask something, but ultimately held back due to professional restraint.

In the hospital room, Ji Mingshu lay curled up motionless, mentally replaying her recent misconduct in front of Cen Sen.. The more she thought about it, the more ashamed she felt. She silently vented her frustration by clutching the pillow several times, and finally, perhaps from exhaustion, she fell asleep again.

This sleep lasted until eight in the evening, by which time the IV drip was finished.

The gentle nurse was removing the empty bottle while carefully instructing her: “After an IV, it’s best to eat something mild to line your stomach. Binge eating or heavy, spicy food can easily cause digestive discomfort,” and so on.

Ji Mingshu nodded absentmindedly, still looking toward the door.

Had that scoundrel Cen Sen just left, never to return? Was there no one outside to take her home?

Watching the nurse leave the room, Ji Mingshu retracted her gaze in disappointment.

But the next second, the door was pushed open again, bringing in a few strands of the sparse autumn night breeze.

Cen Sen leaned against the doorway, met her gaze calmly, and suddenly spoke, “Get ready, we’re going home.”

Ji Mingshu sat on the bed hugging her knees, staring at him as he approached step by step, her heart beating heavily, beyond her control.

Deep autumn had arrived unnoticed, with low temperatures at night and cold winds. Ji Mingshu was wrapped in a windbreaker coat.

Getting into the car, she noticed a shopping bag from a certain brand on the back seat and couldn’t help glancing at it a few times. “Is this a gift from a client, or for a client?”

“I saw it at the airport and thought it would suit you.” Cen Sen got in from the other side and looked at her.

“…”

For her?

Ji Mingshu eyed him suspiciously and reached for the shopping bag.

While unwrapping the box, she would occasionally glance at him.

When she saw the true face of the handbag, Ji Mingshu’s heart couldn’t help but flutter with small excitement, and her straight lips involuntarily curved upward.

It was quite beautiful, with the brand, color, style, and size all to her liking.

“Do you like it?”

Ji Mingshu examined the bag without taking her eyes off it, extremely satisfied inside but maintaining an aloof expression outwardly, commenting with noble coldness: “It’s… barely acceptable.”

She caressed it lovingly, then suddenly remembered something and turned her head, still maintaining her air of superiority: “Why… are you being so nice to me today?”

“Am I?”

Wasn’t he? He poured porridge, came to pick her up personally, and even gave her a handbag—how could it not seem suspicious!

The last time he had abnormally gone to the magazine office to pick her up and abnormally cooked braised ribs for her, wasn’t he just waiting to feed her before his ulterior motives?

Thinking of this, Ji Mingshu gripped the bag handle tightly, feeling uneasy.

This scoundrel wouldn’t, would he? She had just come from the hospital today—could he be so impatient and inhumane?

But a few minutes later, the car stopped in the underground garage of a large shopping mall, and Cen Sen said he wanted to go to the supermarket to buy ingredients to make porridge for her, seemingly further confirming her suspicions.

She got out of the car with her new bag, very wary of Cen Sen. On the way to the supermarket, she kept reminding him that she had just left the hospital as a patient, her body was weak and needed good rest, and couldn’t be overexerted!

Cen Sen glanced at her and said, “I know.”

“…”

That face of bland indifference—know what? I don’t think you know anything.

Cen Sen didn’t know what she was thinking, nor did he feel he had done anything unusual or been particularly special to her today.

Everything seemed very natural to him; he did what he wanted to do and felt it was all reasonable.

Ji Mingshu rarely entered supermarkets, and this was her first time shopping with Cen Sen.

Seeing the cute little car-shaped shopping carts by the entrance, she looked at them for a few extra seconds.

Cen Sen suddenly reached out and tapped her head, saying quietly, “Stop looking, your weight isn’t suitable.”

His hand was still a bit cold. Though he was just tapping her head, she felt her heart uncontrollably jump again.

By the time she came to her senses to defend herself, Cen Sen had already pushed the cart four or five meters ahead.

She quickly caught up and gripped the shopping cart handle alongside him. After calming her heartbeat, she made conversation: “By the way, when did you learn to cook? I never knew before.”

“In university,” he said while selecting seasonings. “I didn’t specifically learn; I just downloaded recipes and followed them.”

“I’ve tried following recipes too, why can’t I cook?”

Cen Sen placed a bottle of cumin powder in the shopping cart and turned to look at her with a “don’t you know why” expression.

Ji Mingshu wisely closed her mouth.

The supermarket was brightly lit. Looking around, Ji Mingshu noticed many couples pushing carts together, chatting and laughing, some very affectionate.

As they reached the seafood section, the air began to smell fishy. Ji Mingshu covered her nose and mouth, and before she could walk much further, a fish in one of the glass tanks suddenly splashed water.

She instinctively protected the new bag Cen Sen had given her, and when the fish calmed down, she lovingly picked up the bag and wiped it.

As she wiped, she realized something wasn’t right. She carried her BCK bags everywhere like commuter bags—why was she being so careful with an ordinary bag that wasn’t particularly precious?

Thinking of something, she immediately stopped wiping the bag.

She glanced at Cen Sen, who was selecting live shrimp, and quickly said, “The smell here is awful. I’m going to look at snacks and will come find you later.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned around, paused for two seconds, then hurriedly escaped from Cen Sen’s sight.

Cen Sen looked up at her retreating figure but didn’t think much of it.

However, knowing that once Ji Mingshu was out of his sight, she could occasionally do inexplicable things, he didn’t linger in the seafood section. After having the shrimp processed, he planned to find that little vase that couldn’t walk independently.

Ji Mingshu drifted around the snack section with her bag, her stomach finally feeling the delayed hunger.

Normally, she had little desire for puffed foods, but now she very much wanted to open a bag of chips and eat before paying.

Fortunately, image ultimately triumphed over appetite, and she drifted forward, planning to put it out of sight and out of mind.

Out of sight, her stomach might forget, but her mind couldn’t calm down.

There were some things she didn’t quite want to think through, lingering in her mind, like a minefield full of landmines—thinking too deeply would blow a huge hole in her current peaceful life.

She paced back and forth in front of the shelves for a long time, trying to remove the two words “Cen Sen” from her mind.

But just as the thought appeared, Cen Sen’s calm voice unexpectedly sounded behind her: “All done.”

She jumped in fright, her shoulders involuntarily trembling, then immediately grabbed something from the shelf and hurried forward without looking back: “I’m done too!”

After walking a while, she casually looked down and realized she was holding a large box—the kind with super large titles and obvious markings on the packaging—of condoms, containing at least a dozen or twenty smaller boxes.

This was what you call a real landmine.

Ji Mingshu’s mind went blank. Seeing several men around, without thinking, she turned and shoved the box into Cen Sen’s arms.

Looking up, Ji Mingshu wished she could die on the spot.

Where was Cen Sen?!