That moment of eye contact brought Ji Mingshu embarrassment no less intense than when Cen Sen had caught her singing in the bathtub hours earlier.

Cen Sen seemed to have the same thought, suddenly asking: “Why are you looking at me, fairy who makes men bow beneath your skirt?”

When he said those nine words, “fairy who makes men bow beneath your skirt,” his tone was flat, but with very brief pauses between words, somewhat like reciting ancient texts in high school, except that his stilted repetition itself carried a subtle sense of humiliation.

Ji Mingshu’s reaction was slightly delayed, unsure how to respond.

Cen Sen, with inexplicable leisure, added: “Did I get the title wrong? Perhaps you prefer ‘fairy who captivates all beings’?”

Ji Mingshu: “…”

She was too kindhearted to imagine that a cold, despicable beast in a gentleman’s clothing like Cen Sen would feel momentarily depressed due to complex family relationships.

She sat up straight and said expressionlessly: “If you can talk, say more.”

Cen Sen didn’t comply with her wishes. His gaze indifferently returned to the front as he directly instructed the driver to return to Mingshui Mansion, not speaking again for the rest of the journey.

Mingshui Mansion was divided into the Waterside Villa Area and the Lakeside Villa Area. The thirteenth building where Cen Sen and Ji Mingshu lived was in the Lakeside Villa Area, with a specially built wide bridge leading to the private parking lot. The bridge had a sentry post with 24-hour shifts, providing excellent security and privacy.

As soon as the car stopped, Ji Mingshu opened the door and got out first, then walked away quickly without looking back.

Her figure was graceful and commanding. The invisible man Zhou Jiaheng silently evaluated with one word in his heart: Formidable.

After returning home, Ji Mingshu quickly went upstairs to the second floor, locked her bedroom door, and wondered if Cen Sen would say some conciliatory words when he came to knock.

But by the time she finished removing her makeup, she hadn’t heard any movement downstairs.

She walked to the balcony and happened to see Cen Sen’s vehicle slowly driving out of the Lakeside Villa, followed by an understated Passat.

The Passat was driven by Cen Sen’s bodyguard.

His bodyguards always worked in three shifts, 24 hours a day, never leaving his side.

In other words, he was leaving?

Belatedly realizing this, Ji Mingshu immediately called to question him: “Where are you going?”

Cen Sen’s voice was light and calm, “I have another engagement. You rest first, don’t wait up for me.”

“…? Who’s waiting for you?”

For a moment, Ji Mingshu thought she had misheard. Was this dog of a man expecting her to be like a faithful wife waiting for her husband? How dare he think that way? Truly unbelievable.

She hung up mercilessly.

But after hanging up, she began to regret it. Why hang up so quickly? Would he mistakenly think she was feeling guilty?

The more Ji Mingshu thought about it, the more ridiculous and infuriating it seemed. “Shameless jerk, not that good-looking, but thinks too highly of himself!”

She threw down her phone and went back to the bathroom to apply a face mask.

As she was applying it, she suddenly paused: wait, maybe he couldn’t be categorized as “not that good-looking.”

First, he truly didn’t belong in that category, and second, if she forcibly put him in that category, wouldn’t that be insulting her aesthetic judgment?

Thinking this way made her even angrier.

Meanwhile, after sending Miss Ji back to Mingshui Mansion, Cen Sen instructed the driver to head to Heyong Club.

Heyong Club was a private establishment located at the former consulate site on Ruiying Road. What made it more special than other high-end clubs was that it didn’t accept membership applications; it only extended invitations to certain celebrities in Beijing and Shanghai.

Cen Sen had an engagement there tonight, meeting someone to discuss the hotel development project complementing the Western Suburbs Scenic Area.

It was just the time when lights were coming on, and the entire capital city was glimmering with brilliant lights in the dim night. Looking at Chang’an from afar, the east wind seemed to have released thousands of flowering trees at night—this city always carried a beauty that was both bustling and solitary.

Cen Sen didn’t look outside. After returning to the country, he had attended various social engagements for many consecutive days, and even someone with iron-clad stamina would feel tired. He crossed his arms low in front of him, leaned back against the seat, and closed his eyes to rest.

Perhaps because his brain was constantly in a state of high-speed operation, it was difficult to relax even briefly. Images flashed uncontrollably through his mind:

One moment, it was his young cousin frantically saying sorry, looking at the spare ribs in her bowl, helpless, afraid, and childlike;

Another moment, it was Old Mrs. Cen smiling at Ji Mingshu, then turning to look at him with an unconscious formality and distance;

And then Aunt Cen Yingfrost mentioned Cen Yang, bringing silence to the entire pavilion.

In that instant, he suddenly recalled the scene from his childhood when he was transferred from Xingcheng to the capital, walking into Nanqiao Hutong for the first time.

It was just like this—many people, very quiet.

Some things were so distant they seemed to have happened in the last century. Everyone tacitly refused to mention them, not because they had passed, but because they could never truly pass.

Zhou Jiaheng sat in the passenger seat. Seeing Cen Sen’s slightly furrowed brow in the rearview mirror, resting uneasily, he took the initiative to play a gentle, soothing melody.

Outside the window, the traffic light changed from red to green, mixing with the yellowish streetlights that slanted through the half-open window, like a nostalgic halo, hazy and dancing.

Cen Sen experienced a rare sense of drowsiness.

But somehow, the image of Ji Mingshu singing in the bathtub suddenly popped into his mind. Recalling that scene, those few self-indulgent lyrics also began playing in 3D surround mode like accompanying equipment.

The slight drowsiness instantly dissipated. He rubbed his brow bone, inexplicably chuckling softly.

The night wind was cool. Standing at the entrance of Heyong Club, Zhang Baoshu looked up at the silvery flowing sign above the door, unconsciously hugging her arms, shivering slightly.

Today, she had been a last-minute replacement, taking the place of a famous actress who had experienced an emergency from her manager’s roster.

Her manager had repeatedly instructed her to make the most of this opportunity, but before leaving, also contradictorily told her that if she didn’t know what to say, she should speak less.

How was she supposed to make the most of it by speaking less? Zhang Baoshu was confused and puzzled.

The Heyong Club was not easy to enter. With Young Master Zhang’s nod, the waitress in a qipao smiled and led her upstairs.

She gripped her purse strap tightly, curiously observing her surroundings without being obvious.

Perhaps because Heyong Club had once been a consulate, the interior decoration was a fusion of Eastern and Western styles, with both trickling streams and bridges as well as gramophones and oil paintings. Amazingly, being there didn’t feel incongruous at all.

The private room she was headed to was on the third floor, with an elegant name: “Dream of Nanke.” Wealthy people liked to use such misty, poetic names to showcase their refined taste, which didn’t surprise Zhang Baoshu.

When the door to the private room opened, the interior was spacious, too large to take in with one glance.

Before her was a marble round table with an automatic turntable, set with exquisite tableware and lush, dewy, fresh flowers. A half-folding screen served as a partition, and the lighting became dim and hazy further inside, with occasional conversation drifting from within.

As Zhang Baoshu approached, she heard a soft voice, tinged with amusement, “Young Master Zhang, I concede.”

Young Master Zhang also laughed, “I’m not as good as you at remembering cards.”

An unfinished hand of cards was placed face down on the table, mixed with other cards as they were shuffled.

Seeing Zhang Baoshu arrive, Young Master Zhang raised an eyebrow slightly, not taking her too seriously, and casually instructed while shuffling cards, “Light a cigarette for Mr. Cen.”

Mr. Cen? Zhang Baoshu instinctively looked around.

There were six men present, three sitting and three standing. Those standing didn’t look like the main figures. Among those sitting, apart from Young Master Zhang, whom she recognized, there was a middle-aged man who looked like a leader, but he already had a female companion, a familiar face from the news media.

The remaining one…

Zhang Baoshu saw his face clearly and was suddenly startled.

Wasn’t this the man who had raised the price on Su Cheng’s pearl necklace at the Zero Degree Banquet that night?

She remembered him, called Cen Sen.

Seeing her not responding for some time, Young Master Zhang frowned impatiently, “What are you still standing there for? Do you need to bathe and burn incense before lighting a cigarette?”

Zhang Baoshu came back to her senses and hurriedly bent down to pick up the cigarette box on the table. This box was also unfamiliar to her; she couldn’t figure out how to open it.

Cen Sen turned his head, glancing at her very lightly, and raised his hand slightly to block, “No need.”

Zhang Baoshu didn’t know what to do for a moment.

Young Master Zhang, unable to bear watching, pointed with his finger, “Pour the wine.”

“…”

Zhang Baoshu was a beat slow again, and then passively went to pick up the bottle of foreign wine.

She was usually quite clever, otherwise, her manager wouldn’t have given her this opportunity to advance so quickly, but today, for some reason, she was inexplicably fumbling and flustered.

The other two female companions looked at her with somewhat mocking gazes. Young Master Zhang’s companion particularly chose this moment to demonstrate her understanding nature, raising her finger to massage his temples in circles. Her wine-red fingernails with silver sequins sparkled under the lights, particularly eye-catching.

Young Master Zhang enjoyed the beauty’s service while skillfully cutting and dealing cards, saying lazily, “Mr. Cen, this isn’t my fault. I originally wanted to invite Xin Zhihui to accompany you, but her manager said the flight was delayed and she couldn’t make it back, so they forced this young girl on me instead. Said she’s a student from the Film Academy, just acted in some campus film, and claimed she’s pure and clever—but where’s the cleverness in this?”

He turned to ask Zhang Baoshu, “What was your name again?”

“Zhang… Baoshu.”

“Heh, we share the same surname.”

“Is that your real name?” Cen Sen, who had hardly spoken, suddenly looked at her.

Zhang Baoshu shook her head. “Stage name.”

“What’s your real name?”

Zhang Baoshu felt a bit embarrassed, hesitating without making a sound.

Cen Sen didn’t mind, shifting his gaze back to his cards, leisurely adjusting their position.

His hands were slender and elegant, and his manner of holding the cards was like handling works of art.

After hesitating for a while, Zhang Baoshu answered softly: “My real name is Zhang Yanhong.”

After saying this, her ears reddened slightly, feeling that this name was old-fashioned.

Sure enough, the female companions couldn’t help laughing when they heard it, and Young Master Zhang directly criticized that the name sounded like a maid’s from the last century.

Cen Sen didn’t have such a reaction, only saying mildly, “Your real name is good. The characters ‘Bao’ and ‘Shu’ don’t suit you.”

Despite his extremely calm tone, those two characters sounded in her ears with added tenderness and affection. Zhang Baoshu was momentarily stunned, even forgetting to consider why those characters didn’t suit her.

During the latter part of the evening, as the men discussed business, Zhang Baoshu couldn’t understand and didn’t pay attention. It was as if she were bewitched, her heart fluttering and her courage strangely growing.

After pouring wine for Cen Sen, she obediently sat down beside him, occasionally passing things to him as if to assist.

Young Master Zhang, who had looked down on her earlier, now gave her a “quite sensible after all” look.

The initiative for the Western Suburbs Scenic Area hotel development project lay with Junyi.

After returning to the country to take over the group, Cen Sen had made adjustments to various ongoing and pending projects of the group. Projects like the hotel in the Western Suburbs Scenic Area were dispensable for the group—tasteless to keep but a pity to abandon.

But for projects like Young Master Zhang’s, the presence of a well-known high-end hotel brand was essential for improving the service level and overall positioning of the scenic area.

That’s why this meeting was taking place today—one side attempting to maintain the original state and continue cooperation, the other quietly waiting for concessions while smiling silently.

With plenty of wine and the night growing late, Young Master Zhang had talked until his lips were sore without gaining any advantage from Cen Sen.. But the cooperation couldn’t be terminated, and he was forced to retreat repeatedly. In the end, he had retreated to his last line of defense, yet still had to express thousands of thanks to the other party, as if he were begging someone to make money.

Cen Sen and Director Yang, who had been helping with coordination, had already left first. Young Master Zhang tugged at his tie, somewhat irritated.

Seeing Zhang Baoshu still hesitantly clutching her purse, not knowing whether to follow Cen Sen, his frustration grew even more intense. He jerked his chin toward the door, “Go follow him, you idiot! What pretense are you putting on here?”

Zhang Baoshu was both angry and afraid, but didn’t dare talk back. They both had the surname Zhang, but the “Zhang” before her was not one she could afford to offend.

She ran out and saw the car attendant bending down to open the car door for Cen Sen.

“Mr. Cen!”

She mustered her courage and called out.

Cen Sen slightly raised his eyes.

Zhang Baoshu took a deep breath and walked quickly forward in her high heels.

Stopping in front of Cen Sen, she clutched her purse strap and asked somewhat shyly: “Mr. Cen, would it be convenient for you to give me a ride? I didn’t drive… I mean, I don’t have a car.”

She immediately added, “If it’s not convenient, that’s okay too. Then… could I add you on WeChat?”

Cen Sen laughed lightly.

Zhang Baoshu secretly looked up, only to find that his gaze was on her purse.

This purse was borrowed from her manager, a style from Chanel from a couple of years ago. The color and style were both attractive, and of course, the price was not something a newcomer like her in the entertainment industry could normally afford.

Cen Sen also had a distinct memory of this purse’s color and style.

On the night before their wedding, Ji Mingshu had been carrying this exact purse.

That night, waking up to find him lying beside her, Ji Mingshu was so angry that she emptied the contents of her purse and put the bag over his head, then grabbed his head, demanding that this pervert who had taken her virginity explode on the spot.

“Mr. Cen?”

Zhang Baoshu anxiously asked again, slightly waving her phone.

Cen Sen came back to his senses, his gaze lingering on her phone’s WeChat interface for a moment.

Zhang Baoshu, not that “Shu.”

He turned the ring on his fourth finger and reminded her quite directly: “I’m sorry, I’m already married.”

Zhang Baoshu was slightly startled.

Having been watching him all evening, she certainly hadn’t missed the wedding ring on his hand. But for men in their circles, being married or not wasn’t of much importance.

She instinctively interpreted Cen Sen’s reminder as a kind of alternative hint. Although somewhat disappointed, it was also within her expectations.

After a quiet moment, she bravely lifted her chin to look into Cen Sen’s eyes, stating bluntly: “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” Cen Sen replied without hesitation. “Doesn’t your school require any cultural education for admission? With this level of comprehension, can you even understand the script?”

Zhang Baoshu looked at him, bewildered.

Cen Sen got into the car and said slowly, “In terms of appearance, temperament, education, and background, you don’t compare to my wife in any aspect. You’d better wash your face and wake up.”