In the spacious, luxurious dressing room, Ji Mingshu held up her phone, taking photos while asking, “What do you think of this outfit? Is it too formal?”
She was trying on a wine-red satin cocktail dress with the petticoat removed. It featured an off-shoulder design with a bling-bling diamond-studded thin waistband.
This cocktail dress had extremely high requirements for one’s figure, but with her small frame and fair skin, the dress fit her perfectly—not too tight, not too loose—making her bright eyes and white teeth look even more striking, utterly captivating.
On the video call, Jiang Chun seemed so mesmerized by the beauty that she couldn’t take her eyes off Ji Mingshu, staring without blinking for several seconds. Only after Ji Mingshu called her name twice did she snap back to reality. “Oh, it is a bit formal, but it would be fine for a Western restaurant or watching a play or concert. By the way, where are you going tonight?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know where we’re going. He only asked if I had time for a date, then said he’d pick me up after work.”
As she said the first half of the sentence, Ji Mingshu’s brows furrowed slightly, seemingly genuinely troubled. But as she continued speaking, the corners of her lips kept rising, impossible to suppress.
And every affected, coy expression seemed to frantically hint: “That’s right, I’m now a little goldfinch baby immersed in love tvt!”
Jiang Chun had no idea what she’d done wrong to deserve having dog food forcibly stuffed into her mouth in the middle of the afternoon before she was even fully awake.
She reluctantly swallowed this dog food, but still felt it wasn’t quite real, because she simply couldn’t imagine what kind of look cold-faced boss Cen Sen—the type who seemed to think “every second I waste talking to you is a billion yuan lost”—would have when extending a date invitation.
But she didn’t need to imagine it, because Ji Mingshu loved to show off too much. After choosing her clothes, she couldn’t hold back and insisted on showing Jiang Chun their chat screenshot.
Cen Sen: [Baby, do you have time to date me tonight?]
Jiang Chun gently slapped herself.
Yes, it hurt a little—not a dream.
Jiang Chun: [This is your husband?]
Ji Mingshu: [Who else?]
Jiang Chun: [Have you called your husband? It looks like his account was hacked?]
Ji Mingshu: […?]
Ji Mingshu: [Do you know how to talk?]
Jiang Chun: [No, it’s just too surreal, the way this message is written. Think about it—does it make sense for Cen Sen to call you “baby”? Even Tang Zhizhou isn’t this greasy…]
Ji Mingshu: [Congratulations, you’ve managed to offend three people in one sentence. /smile]
Jiang Chun: […]
Jiang Chun: [Humble.jpg]
Jiang Chun’s cold water obviously couldn’t extinguish Ji Mingshu’s enthusiasm as she rubbed her hands together, waiting for the date. After all, in nearly four years of marriage to Cen Sen, apart from watching a movie and having hotpot on Christmas Eve, they’d never been on a proper date.
After carefully applying date makeup and designing a hairstyle that looked lazy and casual yet full of little tricks, she changed into a relatively less formal smoky pink straight-across dress that perfectly revealed her delicate and sexy collarbone.
But after changing, she felt something was still missing. Remembering a bracelet left at Bai Cui Tian Hua that would match today’s outfit perfectly, she thought for a moment, then informed Cen Sen before having the driver take her to Bai Cui Tian Hua.
At 4:57 in the afternoon, Junyi’s high-level meeting was still at an impasse, with the leaders of two key projects arguing red-faced over resource allocation.
Normally, everyone was a leader, capable of maintaining civility when dealing with superiors and subordinates. But when it came to interests, even leaders were no different from market ladies squabbling with vendors over a thirty-cent change.
If there had to be a difference, it was that they were fiercer and intense, higher and stronger. From their posturing, if the conference table wasn’t so wide and their arms weren’t so short, they’d probably be rolling up their sleeves for a life-or-death fight right there.
The other attendees all adopted an attitude of “not my circus, not my monkeys,” offering at most a few meaningless words of consolation. Most were waiting for the big boss, Cen Sen, seated at the head of the table, to state his position.
But Cen Sen remained calm and undisturbed, his fingers lightly tapping on the table, his gaze steady, revealing no real thoughts.
Some people silently believed this was the calm before the storm, since his usual style was to either stay silent or go all out when he did speak.
After waiting patiently for three minutes, Cen Sen finally showed signs of speaking up. “Manager Huang, Manager Song.”
The argument stopped abruptly.
The room fell silent, with all eyes turning to the head seat.
Cen Sen looked up and said in a light tone, “It’s five o’clock. We’ll end here for today. Meeting adjourned.”
…?
Adjourned?
All attendees, including Managers Huang and Song, couldn’t quite react.
Although meetings usually had an estimated time, had the big boss ever followed the concept of ending a meeting on time? When they were in school, could the homeroom teacher tell the principal to stop talking just because morning self-study was over?
Everyone was still stunned by the sudden shock, but Cen Sen had already stood up and was adjusting his clothes, with Zhou Jiaheng instinctively stepping forward to collect his meeting materials.
They watched as Cen Sen unhurriedly walked out of the meeting room, their brains running at high speed, frantically trying to decipher the true meaning behind his unexpected departure.
By now, the two managers had also recovered, remembering how ungracefully they had argued in front of Cen Sen. Cold sweat breaking out, they felt this was heading toward an autumn execution. They grabbed onto Zhou Jiaheng like a lifeline, refusing to let him go, insisting on a clear explanation.
Zhou Jiaheng was at a loss for words. It was just the end of a meeting—did they need to be so frightened? Weren’t they all very capable during the meeting? The boss wanted to appease his wife; why would he have the mind to listen to those two battle it out?
At 5:30, Cen Sen’s car stopped punctually at the entrance of Bai Cui Tian Hua. He called Ji Mingshu.
Ji Mingshu carelessly answered with a “wait,” then lay by the window with a small pair of binoculars, looking down.
Although she had long finished everything and was just waiting for Cen Sen to pick her up, the necessary procedure of playing hard to get on a date had to be followed.
But this act made her heart itch, and after just five minutes, she couldn’t stand it anymore and hurried downstairs.
Seeing her in a little pink dress, pretending to be aloof while brushing her hair, Cen Sen got out of the car and opened the passenger door for her.
Ji Mingshu glanced at the driver’s seat. “You’re driving yourself?”
Cen Sen made an affirmative sound, picked up the pink and white roses from the passenger seat, handed them to her, and looked her up and down, complimenting, “Today you seem especially beautiful.”
A CEO is still a CEO—the word “especially” had clearly been carefully chosen, fundamentally eliminating the possibility of women countering with “am I not beautiful normally?”
Ji Mingshu gave him a “you’re clever” look and carefully sat in the car, protecting the flowers.
The bouquet had only eleven roses, not large, but fresh and exquisite.
Ji Mingshu couldn’t put it down, taking dozens of selfies with it during the drive. While waiting at a red light, she even signaled Cen Sen to tilt his head and take a photo with her.
But Cen Sen’s angle in the frame always seemed a bit off, so she simply took a side profile of him driving.
Ji Mingshu: [Going on a date with Mr. Cen~/cute]
With two photos attached.
As soon as she posted to Moments, likes and comments skyrocketed.
Zhao Yang: [You old married couple, you’re too sickeningly sweet.]
Shu Yang: [I think I need to go to the vet.]
Zhao Yang replying to Shu Yang: [No need for a checkup, you’re just stuffed with dog food.]
Gu Kaiyang: [Today’s dose of beautiful Shu baby absorbed!]
Jiang Chun: [Baby time soon?]
Cen Yingfrost: [Second child soon?]
Ji Mingshu was replying one by one, but before she could finish, Cen Sen stopped the car and reminded her, “We’re here.”
“So fast.”
She was slightly surprised.
Actually, it wasn’t that fast, considering she had spent nearly forty minutes taking photos and editing them.
Cen Sen didn’t explain, just agreed with her with an “mm,” then leaned over to help her unfasten her seatbelt.
They had arrived at a French restaurant.
Just thinking about eating out with Cen Sen, especially a time-consuming French meal, gave Ji Mingshu a reflexive headache.
But this was a date, and they had to eat, so she closed her eyes, steeled herself, and went straight in.
Surprisingly, this dining experience wasn’t like having an invigilator sitting in front of her, urging her to hand in her exam paper. Instead, it was very comfortable and enjoyable.
Cen Sen ate slowly and was very considerate of her feelings, pouring water and red wine for her, even finding topics to chat about.
And he balanced the conversation topics skillfully, alternating between serious matters and light banter.
Ji Mingshu found it quite miraculous—how did he suddenly adopt this talkative persona during dinner?
Usually, he only had this much to say when educating her or during intimate bedroom talk.
Undeniably, though, she liked how he kept looking at her while saying trivial things. It gave her a feeling that… he was making an effort to spend time with her.
After dinner, they held hands and wandered through the streets, continuing their earlier conversation about school days from the restaurant, having a rare heart-to-heart talk.
Everything was perfect and matched Ji Mingshu’s definition of a couple’s date—if only they hadn’t gone to see that 4D movie.
After walking for about half an hour, Ji Mingshu started to tire, so Cen Sen suggested going to see a movie.
While buying tickets at the cinema, Cen Sen noticed a 4D screening and asked if she wanted to try it. Being the love-struck person she was, she naturally agreed to whatever her husband suggested, nodding obediently. And so began the two-hour nightmare of involuntary dancing.
The movie opened with a car chase scene. Before Ji Mingshu could even settle in her seat, the chair suddenly started shaking wildly in sync with the movie shots, causing her ice cream cone to smear all over her face.
After wiping her face, she was about to take a sip of cola to calm down, when the seat back suddenly punched her in time with a gunshot in the movie, hitting her squarely on the shoulder blade and causing half a cup of cola to spill on the floor.
Most terrifying were the blasts of cold air and mist that came at intervals of less than thirty seconds—a real-life version of “ice rain slapping haphazardly on the face.” Even wrapped in Cen Sen’s coat, she was shivering from the cold. The only consolation was that her makeup today was light and highly waterproof, preventing her from being sprayed into a black mountain witch.
By the time the movie ended, she had been beaten by the chair to the point of partial paralysis. Her dress was wrinkled, her hair, each curl carefully designed with the perfect curve, was in complete disarray. The whole person looked so miserable, as if she had been abused by Cen Sen eighteen times in the cinema, with weakness, pitiful helplessness written all over her body.
Cen Sen had equally paid money to suffer for two hours, but he still maintained an expressionless face, holding onto the cold, dominant CEO persona that never revealed emotions.
He stood up, adjusted his clothes, and extended his hand to Ji Mingshu.
Ji Mingshu took his hand and shakily stood up, stumbling half a step into his arms as she rose.
He naturally embraced Ji Mingshu.
Exhausted, angry, and tired, Ji Mingshu’s eyes were bright and moist. Leaning against his chest, she complained in a small, pitiful voice: “Did you do this on purpose? I’m so mad! I want a divorce!”