The stranger’s figure was very similar to Cen Sen’s, and both wore black coats.

But looking closely, the coat styles weren’t the same, and the man’s appearance was ordinary, far different from Cen Sen.

Unexpectedly handed such a large box of condoms, this stranger was a bit dazed, alternately looking down at the object in his arms and up at Ji Mingshu, his face full of bewilderment, with a vague hint of pleasant surprise at what seemed like a stroke of good luck.

“Miss, you…”

He had barely begun speaking when a gentle male voice suddenly sounded from the other side, “Sorry, my wife mistook you for someone else.”

Cen Sen stepped forward, imperceptibly shielding Ji Mingshu behind him, his expression calm.

He glanced at the “lucky bomb” in the man’s hand, took it without changing expression, and tossed it into the shopping cart.

The man was taken aback, nodding awkwardly, realizing he had overthought things and feeling extremely embarrassed, saying nothing more.

Earlier, Ji Mingshu had grabbed something and hurried forward; when Cen Sen followed, this stranger had converged from another aisle first.

Seeing the man pushing a cart and moving slowly, Cen Sen had circled to one side, following Ji Mingshu from behind a display stand.

Who would have thought that at such a close distance, little vase Ji could suddenly perform such a bewildering maneuver?

Now little vase Ji hid behind Cen Sen, so embarrassed that her scalp tingled, not daring to breathe.

Cen Sen took a step forward, and she followed with a step.

But noticing Cen Sen walking toward the staffed checkout counter, she couldn’t help tugging at the back of his coat, commanding in a tiny voice: “Use self-checkout!”

Cen Sen tilted his head slightly back.

Ji Mingshu, like a startled sparrow, also tilted her head, desperately avoiding his peripheral vision.

Fortunately, Cen Sen neither mocked nor made an issue of it, following her wishes to the self-checkout lane.

After scanning all the items, Cen Sen took out his phone to pay.

Ji Mingshu was eagerly waiting for him to finish and take her away from this mortifying place, but unexpectedly, he suddenly asked, “You deleted me from WeChat again?”

Ji Mingshu was speechless for several seconds.

Good grief, that happened ages ago, and you’re only noticing now? If self-service divorce were possible, would you only discover you no longer had a wife when your family started asking about children?

But now was not the time to offend her savior, so she hid behind him and quietly deflected blame: “Probably a mistake, or WeChat glitched—garbage app!”

Cen Sen: “…”

After sneaking a glance at his expression, Ji Mingshu hurriedly took out her phone and sent a friend request, “Added, added, please accept.”

But Cen Sen didn’t even look, simply putting his phone away and saying mildly: “We’ll see.”

Ji Mingshu: “…?”

Why did she hear “it depends on your behavior” in those simple words “we’ll see”?

Cen Sen stepped toward the exit, and Ji Mingshu had no time to think further, furtively clutching his coat hem again, following closely behind him step for step.

By the time they returned to the hotel suite, it was already ten in the evening. Ji Mingshu, unsurprisingly, immediately ducked into the bathroom.

Cen Sen didn’t mind taking the groceries directly to the kitchen.

Ji Mingshu played with her phone while soaking in the bath. Seeing a stream of concerned messages on WeChat, she posted a general reply on her Moments: “Thanks, everyone, for your concern. safely back at the hotel. /heart”

She also attached a cute, well-behaved girl’s sticker.

Then she opened the “Three Little Fairies” housewives’ group chat and, starting with “What sins did I, Ji Mingshu, commit in my past life,” vented fiercely for five full screens.

Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun first responded with perfectly synchronized “Hahahaha,” dangerously testing the boundaries of being removed from the group chat.

Then, very experienced, they quickly followed Ji Mingshu’s lead before she could explode, joining her in dissing the production team, dissing Yan Yuexing, even dissing innocent bystanders and the equally innocent Cen Sen—taking the stance that “those who follow the sparrow will prosper, those who go against her will perish.”

After being so unprincipled comforted for a while, Ji Mingshu finally calmed down a bit. And once again felt from the bottom of her heart that only sisters were good in this world; men were all weeds.

Remembering that Cen Sen still hadn’t added her on WeChat, she couldn’t help but curse him a few more times in the group.

But Jiang Chun, a recent recruit to the flattery team, wasn’t yet masterful at the art.

And since she had always thought Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen were a loving couple, she naturally assumed Ji Mingshu’s cursing was a form of playful banter.

So she cleverly started praising Cen Sen, praising him nonstop for two whole screens. Ji Mingshu stared in disbelief, unable to find a chance to interject.

After finishing her praise, the little country goose, drawing from her situation with Tang Zhizhou, sincerely sent a voice message advising: “Hitting is affection, scolding is love—we all know you like your husband, but while it’s fine to curse in our group chat, try to show your gentle side in front of your husband. Otherwise, he might not understand your alternative way of expressing affection, you know what I mean? Because I’ve discovered that men’s thought patterns are really simple; they can’t perceive this roundabout way of expression.”

“…”

Who likes him?

Isn’t it your little country goose brain that’s too complicated?!

I’m purely cursing him, cursing him, cursing him!!!

Ji Mingshu: [Shut up!]

Jiang Chun was stunned, and before she could react, she found the group name had changed to “Two Little Fairies and One Little Country Goose.”

Perhaps due to the bathroom’s steamy mist and high temperature, Ji Mingshu felt a bit hot.

She stared at the line of text converted from the voice message—”we all know you like your husband”—unable to look away.

After a long while, she forced herself to place the phone face down, got up, wiped herself dry, and hastily left the bathroom.

In the short time Ji Mingshu had been bathing, the kitchen was already filled with the fragrant aroma of porridge.

She curled up in the living room, absent-mindedly watching a palace drama for a while, then, after wrestling with her thoughts hundreds of times, finally padded barefoot into the kitchen.

“Um, what kind of porridge are you cooking? It smells good.”

With her hands behind her back, shoulders thin but straight, she had quite the air of a princess conducting an inspection.

“Vegetable and shrimp.”

Cen Sen was still preparing ingredients, not even looking up.

Ji Mingshu stood on tiptoe to peer forward, then mustered the courage to awkwardly ask, “So, do you need help, I mean… is there anything I can do?”

“No.”

Brief and to the point, shattering her glass heart with one word.

“…”

Mr. Cen Sen is more gentle today—the number one of the world’s three great illusions 🙂

Ji Mingshu was so offended she turned to leave, but Cen Sen suddenly stopped what he was doing and said, “If you’re that free, why not revise your design drawings?”

Ji Mingshu halted, “What’s wrong with my design drawings?”

She had produced this design very quickly, finalizing the theme and renovation plan within two or three days after the program provided the actual house for renovation.

The house owners had fallen in love because of a musical film. That film had a summary song called “Epilogue,” which became Ji Mingshu’s design theme—”Epilogue.”

It perfectly matched the homeowners’ request for a light retro style, while also carrying the beautiful meaning of progressing from prelude to epilogue. Ji Mingshu had been inspired, drawing up plans quickly, and the final rendered effect was perfect. Even Yan Yuexing couldn’t find anything to criticize when she saw the effect drawings.

So what was the problem?

Cen Sen wiped his hands and said unhurriedly: “Many of your design concepts, including your renderings, have a very academic style, but the homeowners are ordinary people. A home isn’t an exhibition hall; practical function is always the primary need.”

In simple terms: not down-to-earth, not livable.

Ji Mingshu opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to argue, but suddenly didn’t know where to begin.

Wearing a smoke-pink silk nightgown, barefoot, leaning against the kitchen doorway, she stood there foolishly for ten minutes, looking pitiful, small, and helpless.

Cen Sen: “Stop thinking. Have some porridge first.”

Ji Mingshu came back to herself, finally smelling the delicious aroma of the vegetable and shrimp porridge.

With all the distractions along the way, her stomach had gone from hungry to full to hungry again, now empty. She had no energy to think about anything else, just staring at Cen Sen, eagerly following him to the dining area.

But even walking on flat ground, she somehow slipped as if possessed, “thud,” falling backward and landing hard on the floor.

Cen Sen turned his head at the dining table, looking at her as if she were a little lunatic.

She was also stunned by the fall.

With both hands on the floor, her tailbone both numb and painful, she strangely felt the pain spreading to her skull.

Most terrifying was that Cen Sen just stood there watching her for a full minute, seemingly confirming that she would never be able to walk independently in this lifetime, before finally stepping forward and, with some pity, picking her up horizontally.

Cen Sen: “Have you starved to the point of losing your intelligence?”

Ahhhh! Remove your bloody, smelly hands! I don’t need your help and can stand up strongly where I feel!!!

Ji Mingshu was independent in spirit, but physically could only be a humble little vase, tightly holding Cen Sen’s neck, keeping her expression blank despite her tailbone hurting so much that her bottom trembled.

Cen Sen suddenly laughed.

Ji Mingshu’s glass heart shattered again, “What are you laughing at? Did you just laugh?”

Cen Sen neither confirmed nor denied.

Ji Mingshu said sadly, “I can’t live with you anymore; our zodiac signs probably don’t match.”

As she spoke, she reached out to pinch Cen Sen’s face, in that particularly intimate way, using both hands to pull at his cheeks.

She kept pinching the bedside, only then realizing what she had done, and hastily releasing her grip in panic.

Cen Sen seemed unwilling to make an issue of it, placing her on the bed, having her lie face down.

Ji Mingshu instinctively raised her head.

Cen Sen, with what thought in mind no one knew, leaned slightly forward and suddenly pinched her cheek in return, his voice low and deep, still carrying the slight hoarseness of jet lag: “So who do you think you could live with?”

Ji Mingshu fell silent.

The two faced each other in this particularly strange posture.

Their hearts simultaneously beat heavily as one.