It must be admitted that at certain times, Ji Mingshu could be quite a sensible woman.
In the office, the Venetian blinds slowly descended, and the lighting transformed from intense white to soft, warm yellow, creating a dim, ambiguous atmosphere.
From the direction of the desk came the rustling sounds of clothes and documents falling to the floor, along with suppressed, melodious moans.
Ji Mingshu sat on the desk, her hands weakly clinging to Cen Sen’s shoulders, falling several times, then finding their way back up again.
Aware that there were people outside, she dared not make a sound. With tears welling in her eyes, she could only bite Cen Sen’s neck in distress.
Cen Sen’s black hair on his forehead was slightly damp. In the depths of passion, he would occasionally whisper something in Ji Mingshu’s ear, his voice low and hoarse, desire unbearable, even his eyes tinged with red.
Ji Mingshu’s concerns were somewhat unnecessary. With the New Year approaching, most employees had already gone on holiday. There were very few people at Junyi headquarters, and even fewer on the top floor where the CEO’s office was located. Plus, Cen Sen had put up a “Do Not Disturb” sign—who would dare step closer or eavesdrop?
But the thing is, with Ji Mingshu going in and not coming out for several hours, the few assistants in the executive assistant’s office across the way didn’t quite know how to behave. They kept glancing at each other, all reading the ultimate awkwardness of “Is it appropriate for us to be here while they’re doing aerobic exercise in broad daylight?” in each other’s eyes.
When others called saying there were documents urgently needing the CEO’s signature and approval, they would maintain a straight face while responding “Mr. Cen is busy,” while involuntarily imagining some overly intense busy scenes, making it even more awkward.
Around seven in the evening, Cen Sen called the internal line and calmly instructed them to go home. They couldn’t wait to disappear, quickly packed up their things, and swept out like a gust of wind.
Only after Ji Mingshu repeatedly confirmed that no one was outside did she dare to put on her sunglasses, pull up her collar, and follow behind Cen Sen with small steps.
Her walking posture was unnatural, as if she might collapse at any moment, and her knees were slightly red.
Perhaps because they had already fully enjoyed the office play, when they returned home that night, Cen Sen didn’t tease her anymore. Ji Mingshu curled up in his arms and slept soundly.
The next day was New Year’s Eve. The heavens rarely showed a smile after days of heavy snow.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen got up early to visit the Ji family mansion.
At noon, they stayed at the Ji family for the reunion lunch. During the meal, Second Uncle Ji Rubai brought up the old topic again, focusing on one central point and two basic aspects, comprehensively launching the three-year-after-marriage child-urging process.
“Second Uncle, I’m only twenty-five, why are you in such a hurry? Many girls my age aren’t even married yet, they’re still in graduate school or looking for jobs,” Ji Mingshu put down her chopsticks and whined.
But Ji Rubai wasn’t having it, and his reasoning ability was particularly good. “Still talking about twenty-five, once this year passes, you’ll be twenty-six. Besides, you’re not in graduate school and you’re not looking for a job, so how can you compare yourself to them? And anyway, does studying for a master’s degree or finding a job interfere with marriage and childbirth? Sihuai, tell us, aren’t there quite a few young women at your school who are studying for their master’s degrees while getting married and having children?”
Ji Sihuai was Ji Mingshu’s eldest cousin, working at a well-known university in the capital, and had already been promoted to associate professor in his early thirties.
He smiled and replied, “There are indeed quite a few. Not just graduate students, but undergraduates too. Last year, a junior year student wanted me to be her advisor. I thought she was smart and had good overall qualities, and if she could get into graduate school, she could join my lab. But before she even finished her junior year, she went straight to having a baby.”
Ji Rubai listened with satisfaction, then looked at Ji Mingshu with a “See, I told you, this is politically correct” expression.
Then Ji Rusong, her eldest aunt, second aunt, and a group of cousins all turned to look at her simultaneously, all with a “your second uncle is right” expression.
Ji Mingshu had a mouthful of soup in her mouth that she couldn’t swallow.
Fortunately, Cen Sen spoke up in a gentle voice to help her out: “Mingshu is still young. We can start preparing and adjusting our health first, and have children in a year or two. There’s no rush.”
After saying this, he slightly raised his wine glass to toast her eldest uncle, second uncle, and cousins.
Since Cen Sen had said this, everyone naturally couldn’t press the matter further. After all, hovering around their house, nagging every day, couldn’t force them to make a baby.
Having finally dealt with the Ji family’s questioning, when they went to South Bridge Hutong for dinner that evening, the Cen family elders also seemed to have coordinated with the Ji family elders. After just a few sentences, they brought up various examples, indirectly probing, and when the couple didn’t respond, they directly asked when they planned to have children.
However, the Cen family side was better than the Ji family side because Cen Yingshuang had returned home just in time for the New Year. As an unmarried older woman, she was on the front line of being questioned by the elders, shielding Ji Mingshu from many bullets.
After the New Year’s Eve dinner, night had fallen. The TV was on, advertisements were festive, and the Cen family pavilion’s main room was filled with laughter and joy. After the younger generation finished eating, they all ran out of the hutong in a flash to get fireworks from the trunks of their cars. On their way back to the courtyard, they compared whose fireworks were more trendy and sophisticated.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen stayed in the main room, chatting with the elders for a while. Ji Mingshu said she felt a bit too full from dinner, so Cen Sen suggested taking her out for a walk.
The adults teased the young couple about their marital bliss. Ji Mingshu was three parts playing along and seven parts genuinely feeling sweet. She coquettishly responded to the elders before getting up to link arms with Cen Sen as they walked out.
The winter night in the capital was very cold. There were breaths of white vapor in the air as the two strolled along the narrow hutong alleyway.
The Ji family used to live in this hutong too, but they moved away during Ji Mingshu’s high school years. After fifteen or twenty years, this hutong alley seemed to be the same as when she was a child—the same people, the same road.
Ji Mingshu spotted the utility pole at the entrance of the alley and suddenly pointed at it: “Do you remember?”
Cen Sen looked at her.
“When I was little, my classmates and I often jumped with rubber bands here. The rubber band could be taken apart, so we often fixed one end to this utility pole.”
“Then one time, after we divided into teams, we were short one person to hold the rubber band. You happened to be coming home from school, so I asked you to help.”
“Do you remember how cold you were then? You gave me that icy look, didn’t even grunt, and just went straight home. I was so angry at that time! My classmates and I complained about you for quite a while!”
“Really?” Cen Sen thought for a moment. “I don’t remember.”
Ji Mingshu rolled her eyes at him, silently thinking to herself: There are many things you don’t remember.
She took this opportunity to bring up some old grievances with Cen Sen, listing all sorts of accusations about how, in the past, she had sincerely wanted to be friends with him, but he coldly kept her at a distance and kept doing terrible things.
Cen Sen listened attentively but remained quiet because he truly didn’t remember much of what Ji Mingshu was talking about.
During the first two years after arriving at South Bridge Hutong, he was still immersed in a world with An father, An mother, and his little sister, unable to extricate himself. Even when he heard classmates call his name at school, he would be especially resistant, always silently correcting in his heart: My name is not Cen Sen, I’m An Sen.
When the English teacher gently asked if he had an English name, and if not, whether she could help choose one, he didn’t hesitate to write “Anson” on the registration form—an English name he still uses to this day.
Although he didn’t remember the things Ji Mingshu mentioned, he imagined that at that time, he didn’t trust or care about the entire world, and probably couldn’t accept Ji Mingshu’s kindness, which seemed to have “ulterior motives.”
However, as he listened to Ji Mingshu counting his childhood sins, Cen Sen suddenly recalled something Jiang Che had said before—
“Do you remember when you first came to South Bridge Hutong as a child? Ji Mingshu liked you, she brought snacks to play with you every day.”
…
“How could there not be? At that time, Shu Yang teased her every day about offering warmth to your cold backside. He also said she forgot Cen Yang so quickly that she had no conscience.”
Cen Sen turned his head. “Jiang Che said that when I first came to South Bridge Hutong as a child, you liked me.”
Ji Mingshu, who had been chattering away, suddenly paused. “Yeah, it was that kind of liking, you know, based on appreciation for your appearance, you understand?” Ji Mingshu didn’t deny it, just carefully explained.
“Have I grown up ugly?”
“…?”
“I don’t think so? If you consider this ugly, how are others supposed to live?”
Ji Mingshu never stinted on compliments about Cen Sen’s appearance, after all, it was also an affirmation of her own aesthetic judgment. Even during their early marriage, when she unilaterally started disputes, in the end, she would say something cutting like: “For the sake of that face, I can’t be bothered to argue with you!”
Cen Sen seemed to smile a little, then asked: “So now, do you still like me based on appreciation for my appearance?”
“…”
This kind of probing question deserves to be punished by drowning in a pig cage!
They had already walked to the utility pole at the entrance of the alley. Ji Mingshu’s lips were pressed tightly together, and her traitorous heart was beating wildly, but she just wouldn’t respond.
The cold wind brushed their faces at the alley entrance. The street lamps cast fragmented light on the long street, illuminating the snowflakes that had suddenly begun to fall in the deep night, and the childish faces of children across the way laughing and chasing each other with sparklers.
Just as Ji Mingshu was thinking about how to answer, Cen Sen suddenly embraced her from behind, wrapping her entire body in his coat. His hands reached around from behind to hold her waist. His lips were against her ear, cool and moist, causing a tickling sensation.
Ji Mingshu’s face grew hot, and she dodged slightly.
Come to think of it… this seemed a bit beyond the affection expected of an arranged marriage couple. The previous few times also seemed a bit…
She had been restraining herself from overthinking, firstly afraid that because she liked him, she was putting too many filters on Cen Sen’s actions; secondly, afraid that if she asked, she would get a disappointing answer.
But now she felt that maybe she wasn’t overthinking.
“Then, you answer me first.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you… Do you like me?” After asking, she didn’t pause, quickly explaining herself, “It’s not that I’m being narcissistic, it’s just that you’ve been, you’ve been excessively nice to me lately. So if you don’t like me, it’s your fault for creating this illusion, you know? Like before, coming back early from Paris because of me, buying me this and that, and also…”
“You just now figured it out?”