In the end, Ji Mingshu still accepted Cen Sen’s gift—the one who had traveled thousands of miles to deliver himself—with a reluctant expression but a heart full of shy joy.

A little after ten in the evening, Ji Mingshu was carried into the bathroom. Her face was flushed, her jaw damp with sweat, and a few strands of hair stuck to her slender cheeks.

Cen Sen placed her in warm water and helped brush away the loose strands of hair. His clear eyes looked at her, his voice characteristically deep, seemingly with a hint of laughter, “Your stamina is poor, you need more exercise.”

Ji Mingshu, without thinking, pinched his face and then pushed it away, “You’re so annoying!”

Seven parts embarrassment, three parts coquettish, but none of it was literal dislike.

Ji Mingshu knew her stamina was poor, but she had no idea that Cen Sen’s could be good enough to repeatedly break through her imagination.

He had only arrived in Paris last night, yet he was already home by this evening, and in between, he had negotiated a partnership with investors. Even with people picking him up and dropping him off, and catching some sleep on the plane, this non-stop back-and-forth journey was extremely draining. She had thought the gift-giving process would probably just be a perfunctory twenty or thirty minutes, but she had underestimated him.

In the bath, the warm water flowed gently. After Ji Mingshu washed her hair, Cen Sen used a comb to smooth it out, then wrung out the water and put a hair-drying cap on her.

Cen Sen had never done these things before, and now he was doing each step only after Ji Mingshu’s instruction, his movements somewhat awkward.

Fortunately, Ji Mingshu didn’t mind. She reached up to tuck in some wet hair that had escaped the cap, glancing back with the corner of her eye, unable to resist secretly curling up the corners of her lips.

Ji Mingshu hadn’t eaten dinner and had been pulled into exercising for several hours, so her energy was depleted, and she was hungry.

After the bath, Cen Sen used the remaining ingredients in the refrigerator to make two bowls of tomato and egg noodles, and gave all the last few slices of luncheon meat to Ji Mingshu.

After filling her stomach, Ji Mingshu was unusually virtuous for once. She didn’t bother him to do this or that, but just lay in bed telling him about the upsetting events of the past two days.

Cen Sen had already heard a specific and detailed real-time report from Zhou Jiaheng, but Zhou Jiaheng’s report obviously wouldn’t include Ji Mingshu’s subjective feelings.

Listening to her rambling, sometimes angry, sometimes amused, Cen Sen suddenly turned his head and sincerely said, “I’m sorry.”

The curtains in the room were open, and outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the winter night sky was ink-black and thoroughly washed, with a rare scattering of quiet stars.

Cen Sen pulled her into his arms, his long fingers running through her soft, long hair. His voice seemed to be infused with the dampness of her not-yet-dried hair ends, more gentle than usual, “I let you suffer this time. I promise, there won’t be a next time.”

Ji Mingshu suddenly felt a tightness in her nose. Although rather than “I’m sorry,” she would have preferred to hear Cen Sen say “I like you,” this apology instantly stirred up the grievances buried in her heart.

Last night’s fear, like falling into an ice cellar, cold to the bone, couldn’t be completely forgotten just by waking up from a sleep.

She wasn’t a celebrity or an internet influencer; she didn’t need to rely on fans and netizens’ affection to make a living. She hadn’t done anything unforgivably terrible, so why should she be expected to have a strong heart to face others’ groundless abuse and curses?

She didn’t want to say things like “I’m fine,” “I’m good,” or “I don’t blame you”—it was his fault!

Thinking of this, Ji Mingshu bit his neck hard, then followed his words with righteous indignation:

“I was so wronged!”

“Those third-rate little fans even Photoshopped obituary photos of me! Do you know how ugly those obituary photos were? Oh, and that little fan was quite logical, probably thinking I couldn’t die at such a young age, so they even Photoshopped wrinkles and white hair onto my obituary photo! It made me so angry!”

“Come to think of it, it’s all your fault! You’re the typical person with a good attitude when admitting mistakes, but refusing to change. No, you must compensate me today!”

“Alright, compensation.”

Ji Mingshu persisted, “How do you plan to compensate me? I want a proposal now, quick, quick, quick, don’t think you can muddle through this!”

Cen Sen thought for a while, “How about opening an interior design studio for you?”

“…Are you even human?”

“Compensation means making me throw myself wholeheartedly into work to earn money and support the family?”

Ji Mingshu asked incredulously.

Had she previously overplayed her independent persona to the point where Cen Sen now mistakenly thought she wanted to be a career woman???

Cen Sen paused, then thought for another moment, “Then how about buying you an island? One where… You can see the aurora.”

A while ago, he had met with Mr. Chang, another investor in the South Bay project. Mr. Chang habitually talked about his wife and children and mentioned that he had recently bought a private island abroad for them. He planned to build a villa on the island and hire specialists to regularly maintain the beach. Going there for vacations would surely be very peaceful and comfortable.

Mr. Chang had also said that if he was interested, he could introduce reliable sellers. Some islands had very good sea water quality, and you could even see the Milky Way and auroras.

At that time, he had felt a moment of interest, but later, there were too many things happening, and he hadn’t remembered it. Now, bringing up this compensation, he wasn’t sure if Ji Mingshu would be satisfied.

Indeed, not all women would have their eyes blinded by material pursuits such as money, jewelry, yachts, planes, and private islands, but Ji Mingshu would.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she happily agreed, and her attitude underwent a 180-degree turn.

Just now, she had been about to confront Cen Sen, but now she gently nestled into his arms, helping him massage his shoulders, her eyes sparkling. She excitedly asked about the island’s specific location, its size, whether it could be named independently, how long the property rights lasted, whether it was convenient for parties, and wouldn’t it be very cold if you could see the aurora…

Cen Sen was a highly efficient person. Seeing Ji Mingshu’s interest, he contacted Zhou Jiaheng to handle it.

Zhou Jiaheng had made mistakes twice in a row and hadn’t heard how Cen Sen would deal with him after returning to the country. He was anxiously wondering if he could keep his job.

Now that work had come, Zhou Jiaheng was suddenly energized. He jumped out of bed with a start, not even putting on his shoes, his eyes shining as he sat in front of the computer, constantly making phone calls and contacting people.

After all, the workplace is like a battlefield. Though he usually seemed like the president’s closest confidant, never leaving Cen Sen’s side, the competition for his position was very intense. There were many assistants in the executive assistant’s office eyeing his position, all hoping he would fall soon so they could take his place!

Thinking about soon owning her island, Ji Mingshu smiled contentedly and immediately ran to the group chat to inform Jiang Chun and Gu Kaiyang, asking them to respectfully address her as “Aurora Island Owner” from now on.

The two rarely showed such tacit understanding, simultaneously sending the word “psycho.”

Jiang Chun added resentfully: [Can you see what time it is? Disturbing people’s dreams will get you drowned in a pig cage.]

Ji Mingshu: [It’s not even midnight yet, what are you sleeping for? Eat and sleep, sleep and eat, calling you a goose is an insult to geese. Prepare the pig cage for yourself.]

Ji Mingshu was fully focused on typing, chatting with the posture of a gamer taking first blood. Cen Sen couldn’t get a word in, so he looked at his phone.

At this hour, their childhood friends’ group was still active. Jiang Che was asking what gift would please his girlfriend now that the New Year was approaching.

Cen Sen: [Jewelry, yacht, island.]

He had just successfully coaxed someone and was kindly sharing his experience.

But Jiang Che didn’t appreciate it.

Jiang Che: [Why are you so vulgar? Can’t you have some originality?]

Shu Yang: [?]

Shu Yang: [I like Brother Sen’s vulgarity.]

Zhao Yang: [It depends on the type of woman, just like surgery—how can you generalize? This trick might work on Xiao Shu, but it definitely won’t work on Little Squid. For a slightly stubborn girl like her, you can’t talk about money, and you don’t need to talk about originality; you need to talk about sincerity. Am I right, CEO Jiang?]

Jiang Che: [Mmm.]

Jiang Che: [Before we were dating, I gave her a necklace, and she thought I was insulting her.]

Cen Sen: […]

He put down his phone and looked at Ji Mingshu, who was happily sharing her island owner identity, suddenly feeling that his luck was quite good.

After pondering for a moment, he arranged another task for Zhou Jiaheng, asking him to collect expensive and rare items in his spare time for unforeseen needs.

Zhou Jiaheng, radiating the human brilliance of “work makes me happy,” repeatedly agreed and promptly wrote “naming rights for minor planets,” which he had heard about a few days ago, into his expensive and rare items memo.

In the blink of an eye, it was the Minor New Year, the depths of winter in the capital, with snow growing heavier.

The red walls and white snow of the Forbidden City at this time were full of ancient charm. Ji Mingshu didn’t like joining the crowd for photos. She stayed with Old Mr. Cen, Old Mrs. Cen, and Cen Sen for two days at Cen Yuanchao’s garden in the suburbs of Beijing, where he was recuperating from illness.

Cen Sen seemed to have done something wrong; these two days, he had been constantly lectured by Cen Yuanchao. Each lecture lasted at least half an hour, with a voice so loud that she could hear it while taking selfies in the snow-viewing corridor.

Cen Sen was now the person in her heart, so she naturally felt a bit sorry for him being scolded like this. She pretended not to hear and occasionally went in to deliver some pear soup with rock sugar, white fungus, or bird’s nest when Cen Yuanchao was at the height of his anger.

Cen Yuanchao’s expression was displeased, but he couldn’t bring himself to get angry at his daughter-in-law, so at these times he would wave his hand, telling the two of them to leave together and stop making a spectacle!

Ji Mingshu asked softly, “What did you do? Why is Dad so angry?”

“It’s nothing,” Cen Sen said with his usual expression, helping her brush off the snowflakes that had fallen on her head. “Just work matters.”

Ji Mingshu certainly knew it was work-related; otherwise, he wouldn’t be going to the company every day with the New Year approaching, constantly on the phone when he came home, with his computer never turned off.

Ji Mingshu hadn’t paid much attention to Cen Sen’s work before. After all, she wouldn’t understand even if she did care.

Moreover, since graduating from university, she had often heard family members and outsiders praise Cen Sen, saying how strong his work ability was, how ambitious, resolute, and skilled he was… so she had always assumed that Cen Sen was invincible and unrivaled when it came to work.

But now it seemed that might not be the case.

In the evening, Cen Sen still hadn’t returned. Ji Mingshu was in her room preparing New Year gifts for the elders and youngsters of both the Cen and Ji families. She was about to ask Old Mrs. Cen whether Cen Yingfrost, who had gone to Germany for research with her team, would return for the New Year. But before she reached Old Mrs. Cen’s room, she heard Cen Yuanchao and Old Mr. Cen talking in the study.

Cen Yuanchao’s health was poor; when not deliberately summoning his spirits, his voice always sounded somewhat weak.

“…The negotiations were completed, yet he didn’t wait to sign the contract before coming back, actually letting A-Yang intercept the deal. I don’t understand what this child is thinking now!”

Old Mr. Cen was mild in comparison: “A-Sen has his judgment; you don’t need to worry about him.”

Cen Yuanchao fell silent, seemingly sighing, “Worrying is useless. He’s too headstrong; I can’t control him anymore.”