Snow fell over Mingshui Lake for an entire night. Around seven or eight in the morning, the sound of falling snow suddenly became more urgent, and the evergreen trees on the island had their branches bent under the weight of heavy snow.
Outside, the daylight was still a dim grayish-white, but the reflection from the snow was somewhat glaring. Cen Sen pressed the remote to close the curtains and suddenly remembered to apply medicine to the slumbering Ji Mingshu.
This was his first time handling such a task; his technique was a bit heavy-handed and not very skilled. The sleeping Ji Mingshu frowned and unconsciously kicked him.
He tilted his head to avoid it, didn’t take offense, only slightly pressing down on Ji Mingshu’s ankle. After applying the medicine, he checked the time, unbuttoned his shirt, got up, and walked to the bathroom.
With less than a month until the New Year, Junyi’s end-of-year work had already entered its final stage. Most employees could relax a bit, take it easy, and wait for vacation to go home for the New Year.
But Cen Sen, as the group’s CEO, didn’t have what you’d call holidays. If he needed to be busy, he could truly work 365 days a year without rest, just like during those two years in Australia.
However, this year, contrary to his usual behavior, he hadn’t let Zhou Jiaheng arrange any business trips from mid-January to the eighth day of the lunar new year. His pre-New Year work arrangements were also relatively simple, only needing to handle daily affairs at the company and attend a few social engagements.
The sound of water in the bathroom pattered, and Ji Mingshu, still in a daze, thought it was raining outside. She turned over, and a strange coolness came from her previously swollen and painful area. She shrank back, her consciousness gradually returning amid the dripping water sounds that suddenly stopped.
When she finally managed to open her eyes, she saw Cen Sen walking out of the bathroom. He slightly raised his chin, buttoning the first button of his collar.
Almost without thinking, she immediately closed her eyes and wrapped the small blanket tightly around herself, shivering.
Too frightening—Cen Sen, this pervert, was truly too frightening. Ji Mingshu now felt that before last night, she knew absolutely nothing about this pervert Cen Sen!
Ascetic? Sexually cold? Nonexistent. This pervert’s first time paying his “marital duties” since returning to China wasn’t as fierce as last night.
After entering the bathroom last night, she thought it was over, but she didn’t expect the nightmare was just beginning. And this morning, just as she was barely waking up, she was pinned down like an innocent salted fish on a chopping board, dying and reviving, then reviving and dying again.
Now her entire being was in a state of despair, never wanting to think about braised pork ribs again in this lifetime. Regret, she was extremely regretful now.
While lost in these chaotic thoughts, suddenly a cool kiss fell on her forehead. Her nerves tensed up, and she didn’t dare open her eyes.
Cen Sen didn’t force her either, only instructing in a low voice: “I’m going to the company. You’re not feeling well, so don’t go out today. For lunch, ask the housekeeper to make whatever you want. I’ll cook for you when I get back in the evening.”
Ji Mingshu kept shaking her head with her eyes closed, the lower half of her face pathetically hidden under the blanket, her voice muffled, “I don’t want you to cook.”
“…”
He understood and felt like laughing.
“Fine, I’ll handle it myself. You go quickly, go!”
Ji Mingshu started urging him to leave, her head shrinking further into the blanket.
Cen Sen didn’t say anything more, just tucked her stray hair behind her ear before getting up to leave.
As he closed the door, his gaze still rested on the curled-up shrimp-like figure on the bed, with a gentleness in his eyes that he didn’t notice.
“55, 56, 57, 58…”
Zhou Jiaheng watched the second hand of his watch move steadily, his obsessive-compulsive disorder making him stop counting only when he reached a full minute.
One hour and fifty-three minutes.
Hmm, today the boss left one hour and fifty-three minutes later than usual.
He saw Cen Sen pressing his knuckles while slightly loosening his neck and shoulders in the distance, and something crossed his mind.
As Cen Sen approached, he quickly got out of the car, respectfully opened the rear door, and shielded the car roof with his hand while greeting, “Good morning, boss.”
“Morning.”
Cen Sen was the type of superior whose emotions rarely showed on his face, but Zhou Jiaheng had been by his side for several years and knew him better than others.
Out of 365 days a year, Cen Sen was cold-blooded and ruthless for 360 of them. But today, his aura was gentle and his state relaxed, clearly indicating he was in a good mood. Days like this were truly rarer than suddenly being notified of a promotion and raise.
Zhou Jiaheng was alert. After reporting on work in the car and laying out a long list of employee New Year benefits, he subtly mentioned his own deducted year-end bonus.
Sure enough, without even looking up, Cen Sen responded, “Year-end bonus will be paid as usual. If you have anything else, say it all at once.”
Zhou Jiaheng felt a bit embarrassed. “Indeed, nothing escapes your notice, boss.”
He rubbed his hands together, carefully phrasing, “Actually, I do have something that needs your help. I have a six-year-old nephew, I’ve mentioned him to you before—he looks just like me, really cute…”
Cen Sen rubbed his browbone.
Zhou Jiaheng quickly got to the point, “My nephew was studying in Nancheng before, and now my brother and sister-in-law want to transfer him to the capital, and they want him to attend Qing Elementary. Qing Elementary is so hard to get into…”
Cen Sen raised his hand to interrupt, “Connect me with Director Zhao later.”
“Yes, thank you, President Cen, thank you.”
Zhou Jiaheng responded happily multiple times.
Qing Elementary wasn’t an ordinary primary school. Even though he had some influence with Director Zhao, he couldn’t guarantee he could get it done. But with Cen Sen putting in a word, naturally, there wouldn’t be any problems from start to finish.
However, on ordinary days, he wouldn’t dare ask Cen Sen for such a favor.
Projects worth tens of millions, billions, or hundreds of billions were still in line waiting, and it would be too strange for him to bring up such a trivial matter as a child’s school transfer.
And if he had mentioned it, Cen Sen would probably look at him with an expression that said, “Have you made enough money and want to go home and retire?” How could he be as approachable as he was now?
Zhou Jiaheng silently thanked Ji Mingshu a hundred and eighty times in his heart. Being a grateful person, he also mentioned that before the New Year, there would be a private collection auction with several rare jewelry sets, which one was suitable for elders, which for juniors, and which for a wife.
Cen Sen leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed, but somehow his mind was filled with images of Ji Mingshu’s sweet, moaning appearance beneath him last night.
Unconsciously, he rolled his Adam’s apple, his voice becoming husky, “Buy them all.”
The Bentley arrived at Junyi headquarters thirty minutes later, and Cen Sen began another busy workday.
Meanwhile, Ji Mingshu drifted in and out of sleep until the evening, when she finally became fully awake.
—Before this, she had never imagined that her first day back home would be spent in bed.
After last night’s silent activities, the shrewd Gu Kaiyang naturally guessed what unspeakable intimate things Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen had done. Early in the morning, she positioned herself as a meritorious figure in the group chat, completely oblivious to yesterday’s playing dead and guilt of betrayal.
At ten in the morning—
Gu Kaiyang: [Ji Mingshu, sister, when are you coming to move your luggage? Are you still moving it? If not, I’ll reluctantly accept these Hermès items, okay?]
At three in the afternoon—
Gu Kaiyang: [Sister??? Still not awake??? Did your husband make you unable to get out of bed???]
Jiang Chun: [???]
Jiang Chun: [Confused to the second power.jpg]
Jiang Chun: [Gu’s words are too terrifying!]
Jiang Chun: [Mom, I want to leave the group!!!]
Jiang Chun: [Wuwuwu I feel like I’m no longer that pure little cute goose!]
Gu Kaiyang smiled mischievously, with the ill-intentioned look of a mother showing her child the world.
Jiang Chun, this little country goose, was also weak-willed. Her innocent newcomer principles lasted less than five minutes before she was thoroughly brainwashed by Gu’s words, stretching out her exploratory little goose feet to explore new territories.
By evening, when Ji Mingshu opened the chat messages, the group conversation had started with Jiang Chun saying, “President Cen seems quite sexually cold,” and headed straight in the direction of getting the group banned. The experienced driver and the little newcomer had earnestly discussed over four hundred messages on gender topics.
During this time, Editor Gu also frequently spouted golden sentences—
“Half of the men who are openly flirtatious are genuinely flirtatious, the other half are immature; but 90% of men who are reserved are very sensual.”
“Men like President Cen are made for great things, absolutely full of tricks.”
“Ji Mingshu doesn’t eat much or exercise, her stamina is probably not great. I roughly estimate she’ll be unable to get out of bed for three days and three nights.”
Ji Mingshu fell silent, inwardly retorting: She could get out of bed now but just didn’t want to, okay?! Haven’t you heard the saying “Only cows die from exhaustion, no field is ruined by plowing”?!
But Gu Kaiyang’s first two sentences were quite accurate… Cen Sen, this pervert, was sensual.
She and Cen Sen had been married for quite a while. Before, when they had marital relations, she didn’t seem to feel embarrassed because it was always in the dark and followed a pattern—get it done and go to sleep. But last night he had bent down… and later deliberately carried her to the mirror, slowing his movements and coaxing her to look!
Recalling the details, Ji Mingshu suddenly grabbed the blanket and covered her head again, her entire body blushing red with embarrassment.
Due to the intense physical and mental impact of last night, she didn’t have much energy to care about Li Xiaolian’s latest movements after the salon, nor the energy to deal with Gu Kaiyang.
The producer from the “Design Home” program sent a message asking her to repost tonight’s program broadcast on Weibo. She listlessly responded “okay,” emanating a sense of peace, love, and serene detachment both in person and on WeChat.
Ji Mingshu didn’t usually play with Weibo much, only reading news and occasionally liking posts, or sometimes jumping in to help Pei Xiyan argue with someone.
It was only after the program team repeatedly sent messages that she reluctantly verified a yellow V account as an interior designer, changing her name from a random string of characters she had typed with her face on the keyboard to the proper three characters of “Ji Mingshu.”
Her account originally had only a few hundred followers—half were spam bots advertising, and the other half were plastic flowers from her circle who insisted on following each other.
After verification, the program team bought her 30,000 followers and specifically notified her with a “no need to thank us” attitude. At the time, she had no words and didn’t even reply to the message.
Now she logged into Weibo, followed the program’s official account, reposted their Weibo, and then logged off directly without looking at new followers or private messages. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether Cen Sen would continue to torment her tonight, whether Cen Sen had taken some kind of drug, and how she should face Cen Sen naturally…
Unexpectedly, things turned out quite as she wished—tonight, Cen Sen had to meet a long-term real estate partner who had come from afar specifically to visit. It would be inappropriate to refuse on personal and reasonable grounds. As for what time he would return home, it was hard to say now.
Ji Mingshu read Cen Sen’s message and only replied with an “okay” before exiting the chat interface. But three seconds later, she suddenly clicked back in and scrolled through their chat history.
Strange, when did this dog of a man develop the habit of reporting his schedule to her? But this was a good habit, hmm, it could continue.
So Ji Mingshu’s night of keeping an empty house was simply spent admiring the newly expanded walk-in closet. At eight o’clock, she turned on the TV to watch the premiere of “Design Home.”
She guessed that Cen Sen must have spoken with the program team again, as she had not been cut out. The opening segment, showing the drawing of lots for groups and plan selection, all contained her footage.
Although not extensive, each shot was beautiful, as if she had her own Apple lighting, making her stunningly beautiful and prominent, making the flashy young idol Yan Yuexing next to her look like a third-rate extra.
She didn’t know that at this moment, gossip forums were discussing—previously, people thought there was a gap between actors and idols, but they never expected there would be a gap between ordinary people and idols too.
Ji Mingshu was quite satisfied with how she looked on screen. She ate grapes while watching, but the more she watched, the more she felt something was off.
Why did it seem like the broadcast content and the recorded content had many sequences where the order of events and even the sequence of dialogues didn’t match up?