The closed immersive imaging device was not yet fully installed, leaving the show venue in a semi-open-air state. The biting cold wind howled as it rushed in, making the words “I’ll compensate you” barely audible as they were swept away by the wind.
Ji Mingshu didn’t know what to say and wanted to take half a step back to distance herself from Cen Sen., but as soon as she lifted her ankle, a sharp pain shot up from below. She couldn’t help letting out a soft hiss.
“Did you twist it?”
Cen Sen lowered his gaze to examine her.
Ji Mingshu didn’t respond, but her nose and eyebrows were all scrunched up.
After a brief moment of consideration, Cen Sen suddenly took off his coat, stepped forward, and draped the still-warm garment over her shoulders. He even tightened the lapels, practically wrapping her entire body inside them.
Ji Mingshu instinctively shrank back and was about to tuck away a loose strand of hair, but before she could move, Cen Sen’s hand, wrapped in a silk scarf, unexpectedly slipped around her shoulder. His body leaned slightly downward, while his other hand embraced her legs. With just a gentle lift, he picked her up entirely in his arms.
If Ji Mingshu didn’t know what to say earlier, now she wanted to question him, but couldn’t utter a word.
They were very close. She stared at Cen Sen without blinking, her warm breath spilling onto the edge of his jawline, moist and soft.
Cen Sen occasionally lowered his gaze to meet her eyes, his gaze deep and calm.
The silk scarf wrapped around his hand gave off a deep, cold red. Occasionally, one or two spots matching the scarf’s elegant tail fluttered and fell in the wind, creating a strangely beautiful and enchanting aesthetic.
After carrying her to the executive suite on the top floor of the hotel, Cen Sen placed Ji Mingshu on the sofa. He slowly sat down on the other side, extending his hand slightly forward, allowing the doctor who had followed them in to treat his wound.
Sitting face-to-face like this, Ji Mingshu could finally see that his left hand was still bleeding continuously, and the wound had become even more alarming.
As the doctor disinfected the wound and removed glass shards, Ji Mingshu instinctively looked away, her heart suddenly tightening. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened by Cen Sen’s wound or if it was the pain from the doctor treating her foot injury.
Cen Sen himself remained expressionless, looking down at his wound as if he couldn’t feel any pain. From beginning to end, he didn’t furrow his brow even slightly.
After the wounds were treated, both doctors gave a few instructions before standing up together to pack their medical kits.
Zhou Jiaheng respectfully showed them the way, occasionally saying in a low voice, “This way, please.”
The three quickly left, and as the door clicked shut gently, only the two injured patients—Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen—remained in the room. The air grew quiet, with an indescribable awkwardness settling in.
Calculating carefully, the two hadn’t seen each other for about a month or two. Beijing had already transitioned from autumn to winter, and the weather forecast predicted the first snow of the season would fall this week.
In the past, Ji Mingshu would typically break their silence. This time, she was instinctively thinking about what topic would be appropriate for their awkward yet polite situation.
But just then, Cen Sen looked at her cold-reddened hands and suddenly said, “The weather is cold. Wear more when you go out.”
“…?”
“Oh… I will…”
Ji Mingshu was slightly confused, not understanding how Cen Sen’s usually harsh mouth could speak such caring words.
After speaking, Cen Sen stood up and used the room’s coffee beans and machine to brew two cups of Americano. However, after tasting it, he seemed unsatisfied with the flavor.
Ji Mingshu also took a sip and found the beans too bitter. She frowned slightly, putting down the cup, and made conversation by asking, “Why are you here today?”
“I heard you were designing the show venue here. I had some free time today, so I came to see,” Cen Sen said as he dropped a sugar cube into her cup, his voice calm and low. “Actually, I planned to come a few days ago, but I was on a business trip abroad and couldn’t get away.”
Ji Mingshu resisted the urge to cough and swallowed the coffee, though her cheeks still flushed with a tinge of red.
She had a conceited guess in her heart, but she never thought that Cen Sen had truly come to see her, let alone admit it so frankly.
Continuing with the topic of the show venue, Cen Sen brought up another point, “I just saw your design downstairs. It’s very delicate and magnificent.”
“…?”
You didn’t use to say that.
But in the next second, Cen Sen changed his tone and reverted to his previous style, “But your work still has the problem I mentioned to you before.”
“What problem?”
Ji Mingshu couldn’t recall for a moment.
“It’s not human-centric enough.”
Cen Sen put down his coffee and looked at her, saying, “I don’t know the designer’s style, but since he approves of it, it proves there’s no issue with your main show venue. Even from my layman’s perspective, I can see your design has an artistic sense. What I find lacking in human-centricity is that your planning for the audience seating doesn’t seem reasonable enough.”
Just as Ji Mingshu was about to speak, he asked, “You’re planning to arrange the audience in the triangular area of the piano stairs and the corridor, right?”
“…”
He was exactly right.
Cen Sen continued, “As far as I know, watching a fashion show is a very intimate experience. The triangular area of the piano stairs and the corridor is too small. Your current lighting is completely focused on the T-stage without considering the comfort of the audience area. This brightness and light diffusion method can easily cause visual fatigue for spectators. I think you could make some improvements in this aspect.”
Ji Mingshu unconsciously followed his train of thought, resting her chin on her hand as she reconsidered.
She was surprised to find that what this layman said made a lot of sense.
This wasn’t just her problem; many show venues, both domestically and internationally, had this common issue. People squeezed together on small benches, providing a rather mediocre experience. There had even been embarrassing incidents where audience members collapsed the benches before shows even started.
This general neglect of audience areas was mostly based on the show organizers’ superior attitude toward spectators, along with budget control, post-event dismantling, venue changes, and various other factors.
But this time, ChrisChou’s first domestic show didn’t have these objective constraints, making improvements in this area not difficult.
As for the audience’s perception of lighting, this was indeed a major issue she hadn’t fully considered.
She was about to ask Cen Sen if he had better suggestions when his phone screen suddenly lit up. He glanced at the caller ID, stood up, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window to take the call.
Ji Mingshu paused, turned to look at him, and listened carefully.
The caller appeared to be an American, and they were discussing a collaboration project in Hawaii. Cen Sen spoke entirely in English. His pronunciation was pleasant to the ear, deep and husky with a touch of sexiness, yet with a restrained quality distinct from exaggerated American intonation.
As she listened, Ji Mingshu unconsciously became entranced and started to feel drowsy.
To meet her design deadline, she hadn’t slept properly for many days, and it seemed she had built up an immunity to coffee. Sinking into the soft sofa, drowsiness overwhelmed her when she wasn’t paying attention. She quickly closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
When Cen Sen finished his call and returned to the living room, he found Ji Mingshu’s head constantly tilting to one side, her eyelashes thick, her breathing even.
After standing by the sofa watching her for a while, he gently carried Ji Mingshu to the bedroom and pulled the blackout curtains closed.
Though it was daytime, the light in the bedroom became dim due to the curtains.
Cen Sen sat on the edge of the bed, brushed aside Ji Mingshu’s loose hair, and tucked in the corners of the blanket. Just like what he did the night before she ran away from home, he sat by her bedside.
However, after many days, he seemed to have figured out many things. Those flickering thoughts tumbled repeatedly in his mind, ultimately pointing to a certain fact that he didn’t want to contemplate deeply but had already subconsciously acknowledged.
Somehow, he suddenly had the desire to kiss her.
He had always acted on his thoughts without hesitation, never claiming to be a gentleman, and never considering it taking advantage of someone.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he supported himself with one hand beside Ji Mingshu’s ear. He leaned in slightly, gradually getting closer, opening her lips, licking, and gently biting. Still not satisfied, he moved from her lips downward to her pale, slender neck and beautiful collarbone.
Ji Mingshu was sleeping too deeply to notice. When she turned to her side, she unknowingly grabbed a hand wrapped in bandages and used it as a pillow under her head.
The doctor had just instructed Cen Sen not to put any more pressure on his left hand, but now that it was being used as a pillow, Cen Sen didn’t pull it away. The bandage slowly turned red, but he just sat at the bedside, occasionally leaning down to kiss his little goldfinch with unconscious infatuation.
When Ji Mingshu woke up, it was already evening, and there was a faint smell of blood in the air. She turned on the light groggily, rubbing her eyes as she sat up on the bed.
Once fully awake, she immediately noticed the bloodstained bandage on the nearby table.
Belatedly, she looked around, suddenly wondering: How did she fall asleep? And how did she get to the bed?
After a brief blank moment, her gaze fell back on the bloodstained bandage, and the cause and effect unconsciously connected in her mind.
There was a pair of obvious flat shoes by the bed, clearly prepared for her. She slowly slipped them on and limped outside to take a look—
Cen Sen was gone.
The shadow of being locked up for two days still lingered in her mind. Ji Mingshu instinctively walked to the door and twisted the handle.
The next second, the door opened.
Zhou Jiaheng was still standing outside.
Seeing her awake, Zhou Jiaheng smiled warmly, bowed slightly, and respectfully said, “Good evening, madam. The Lausanne Academy delegation has arrived in Beijing for an exchange tonight, and Mr. Cen must attend. He specifically instructed me to wait for you here.”
Ji Mingshu made an “Oh” sound, then remembered the bandage and asked, “His hand…?”
“Mr. Cen’s wound seems to have reopened just now, but he has already changed the dressing. It’s nothing serious.”
Ji Mingshu nodded, holding onto the doorframe, lost in thought for a while before saying, “Then please take me back.”
Zhou Jiaheng unsurprisingly responded with a “Yes.”
Ji Mingshu turned back to grab her purse and high heels, and only after getting into the car did she add, “Take me to Star Harbor International.”
“…?”
Zhou Jiaheng’s lips stiffened slightly, forgetting to respond.
The night in Beijing was filled with flickering lights and flowing illuminations.
The Porsche, as if deliberately taking its time, slowly drove to Star Harbor International over an hour.
Before getting out of the car, Ji Mingshu received a WeChat message from Cen Sen.
Cen Sen: [Aren’t you coming home?]
Ji Mingshu ignored it and looked at Zhou Jiaheng through the rearview mirror.
Zhou Jiaheng had long developed a thick-skinned attitude. At this moment, he kept his eyes on his nose and his nose on his heart, skillfully avoiding eye contact with her.
Another message came in.
Cen Sen: [I’ve reordered the broken lamp. It will arrive in a couple of days.]
Ji Mingshu replied with a very aloof “Mm.”
Cen Sen: [I’ll have the silk scarf sent to you tomorrow.]
Still an aloof “Mm.”
After a while, Cen Sen finally sent a voice message, asking the most crucial question, “My hand makes typing inconvenient. Mingshu, when do you plan to come home?”
Ji Mingshu: [Don’t know.]
Ji Mingshu: [Reasonably suspect you’re playing the victim.]