...?
For a few seconds, Ji Mingshu had absolutely no idea what Gu Kaiyang was talking about.
The name "Zhang Baoshu" only left a faint echo in her mind, and that was solely because of the character "Shu" which shared the same pronunciation.
"What? Who and Cen Sen?"
As soon as the question left her lips, Ji Mingshu remembered the modifier Gu Kaiyang had used—a shameless woman.
Her expression froze momentarily, and without another word, she took out her phone from her bag and opened Weibo.
The matter hadn’t blown up publicly yet; there was no related news on her homepage. Besides, Zhang Baoshu was at best a fourth- or fifth-tier celebrity. Who would bother actively caring about the love life of such a low-profile star unless they paid for a trending topic?
Ji Mingshu stared at the search bar, unsure what to search for, and briefly fell into a daze.
When exactly had she become aware that she would have to enter into an arranged marriage for the sake of the family? She couldn’t recall at the moment.
Nor could she remember when the sordid affairs of wealthy families had become numbingly ordinary and commonplace to her.
There were simply too many such incidents.
In her own Ji family, the uncle she had always respected secretly kept three mistresses, one of whom was three years younger than her.
Her aunt never interfered, always maintaining the feudalistic attitude of a legitimate wife: "You can fly colorful flags outside, but the red flag at home must remain standing."
Her parents, who had left only vague impressions on her, bore no resemblance to the loving couple she had subconsciously imagined.
After reaching adulthood, she accidentally learned that the two had given birth to her merely to prove their fertility and to fulfill their obligations to both families. Once she was born, they had essentially washed their hands of her.
Later, the two died unexpectedly while pretending to be affectionate in public. Whether that counted as delayed retribution was hard to say.
To outsiders, Ji Mingshu was an orphan who had lost both parents, yet her uncles and aunts still doted on her endlessly, treating her like a precious pearl—truly a stroke of good fortune cultivated in a past life.
And indeed, that was the case. Both her eldest uncle and second uncle cherished her as if she were their own daughter. Growing up, none of her male cousins had lived as luxuriously or comfortably as she did.
But she had also known from a very young age that being treated like a daughter did not mean she was their biological daughter. This kindness came at a price—her marriage in the latter half of her life.
So, from the very beginning of marrying Cen Sen, she had prepared herself for the fact that they would not necessarily respect each other and grow old together.
Without a lot of love, but with a lot of money—when put that way, it seemed quite fair.
Yet, standing here now, suddenly learning the news of her husband’s infidelity, she didn’t know why, but she first felt bewildered, then a bit panicked and upset.
"Shushu, you... don’t cry, please don’t cry..."
Gu Kaiyang coaxed her softly, flustered and stumbling over her words. Seeing Ji Mingshu about to lose her balance, she hurriedly helped her sit down on the sofa.
Ji Mingshu wasn’t actually on the verge of tears. Sitting on the sofa, she instinctively crossed her legs to one side, placed her hands lightly on her knees, straightened her back, and assumed her usual elegant posture. However, her eyes were vacant, and her hands trembled slightly.
After about a minute, she suddenly said, "Show me what was captured."
Gu Kaiyang didn’t move.
Ji Mingshu: "It’s fine. Show me."If she wanted to see it, it was only a matter of time before she did. Gu Kaiyang understood this very well. After a long silence, her fingers still moved.
This time, the exposé consisted of a video and several photos. The headline actually had nothing to do with Cen Sen at all—it claimed that Zhang Baoshu had secretly met with Young Master Zhang Qi of Fengchang Cultural Tourism late at night, describing them as intimate and using phrases like "suspected to be dating passionately."
The accompanying article detailed the formidable background of Fengchang Cultural Tourism and this Young Master Zhang's illustrious history of romantic conquests. Yet, among the pile of evidence released, aside from some blurry, indistinguishable paparazzi shots, the rest were ten consecutive photos of Zhang Baoshu and Cen Sen in front of a car.
It was unclear what had gone wrong with this paparazzo's professionalism—they couldn't even tell Zhang Qi and Cen Sen apart, yet they had written thousands of words analyzing the situation.
Although the photos didn’t capture Cen Sen’s face directly, his car model, the wedding ring and watch on his hand, his smiling profile, and Zhou Jiaheng standing not far away were all strong evidence confirming his identity.
Not to mention Ji Mingshu, who had been intimately close to him—she could recognize his figure at a single glance.
And he was still smiling.
Smiling at some unknown, bottom-tier celebrity she’d never even heard of.
Was he always this gentle and considerate with other women? Did he tell other women in bed that his wife was nothing but a boring trophy wife?
Ji Mingshu’s mind felt like it was about to explode.
The impact of seeing the images was on an entirely different level from merely hearing the news.
There was also a video of them spending an intimate eight hours together at Zhang Baoshu’s apartment. Ji Mingshu had no courage left to click on it. Her hands trembled as she held her phone, and she didn’t know how she managed to stop herself from hurling it against the wall.
Suddenly, she remembered their wedding. Following their families’ demands, they had held a traditional Chinese ceremony she never liked.
At the time, she thought, since she didn’t like the person either, what did the wedding style matter? She’d just make do.
Back then, she had been carefree and unbothered. Before the wedding, she and Cen Sen had even laid down three rules for their married life.
The first rule was that their image as a loving couple must never be shattered. No matter how they played around outside, they could never cause a scandal that would publicly humiliate the other.
Cen Sen had given a brief assurance back then, simply saying, "I won’t," and she had believed him.
She never expected that, in just three short years, this solemn promise would be broken.
Nor did she expect that, when this moment truly arrived, her heart would ache with a dull, swollen pain. It wasn’t just the shock and anger of being publicly humiliated by this scoundrel—it was more like a suffocating sense of grievance and hurt. Even if she tried to explain it, she couldn’t quite put it into words.
Seeing her like this, Gu Kaiyang also felt deeply distressed.
The two had met while studying abroad. Gu Kaiyang was a poor student whose family had sacrificed everything to send her overseas, and she dared not slack off even a little. Ji Mingshu, on the other hand, was the pampered darling, the pride of heaven.
When Gu Kaiyang first went abroad, she heard rumors in the study abroad circles that Ji Mingshu, from the interior design program, had casually bought an apartment just to achieve the best effect for her project. There were also stories about how her family background was so lofty it was almost unreachable.
As a wide-eyed freshman who had never seen much of the world back then, she was utterly stunned. And at the time, she never imagined that this legendary figure, talked about by everyone in the study abroad circles, would take the initiative to become more involved in her life.Having known each other for so many years, Ji Mingshu had always been the brightest star in the sky.
After spending so much time with Ji Mingshu, she felt it was truly wondrous that such beauty existed in this world.
She never wanted to see the day that star would fall.
She walked silently to Ji Mingshu's side, wanting to offer some comfort.
But Ji Mingshu didn't even look up, only whispering softly, "Let me be alone for a while."
Gu Kaiyang turned to look out the window, pressed a hand to her forehead, then wiped it down her face, exhaling silently.
After a moment, she quietly left the office.
As she left, she left the door only slightly ajar, not wanting anyone outside to see Ji Mingshu in her current state.
Her little fairy should always be beautiful and vibrant.
"Hey, wasn't your group shooting a double cover with Zhang Baoshu and ee today?"
In the tense atmosphere of the entire editorial office under Gu Kaiyang's watch, someone suddenly barged in, tactlessly bringing up the very subject.
Then, as if remembering something, the newcomer added, "Could it have been canceled because of that Zhang Baoshu incident? That man wasn't Young Master Zhang, it was President Cen from Junyi."
She looked at Gu Kaiyang, "Oh right, isn't President Cen the husband of your rich and beautiful best friend? How can you still sit here calmly? Shouldn't you go comfort her? Or do these rich girls actually enjoy having a little green on their heads?"
The malice suddenly became obvious.
"Shi Qing, I don't want to argue with you today. You'd better get out right now."
Gu Kaiyang's gaze shifted from the screen, landing coldly on the newcomer, her words equally icy.
Where there are people working, office politics are never absent. The rivalry between Gu Kaiyang and Shi Qing had started from the moment they joined the company, evolving from covert to overt, with a relentless, almost dramatic persistence.
Usually, whenever Gu Kaiyang hung out with Ji Mingshu and work came up, she would curse Shi Qing a few times. Over time, Ji Mingshu remembered this character.
On several occasions when they met at the magazine office, Ji Mingshu casually dissed Shi Qing's outdated fashion sense, saying she was only fit to work on men's magazines, which led to Shi Qing being secretly mocked in the office for quite some time.
Although Shi Qing didn't dare to openly confront Ji Mingshu, she kept every slight clearly recorded in her mind, eagerly awaiting the day she could make Gu Kaiyang and Ji Mingshu pay back every bit with interest.
Now was clearly that "one day."
"The truth isn't allowed to be spoken? She's not even here, why are you still sucking up? Isn't it just because she's rich and you're clinging to her? Speaking of which, why don't you ask her to introduce you to some tall, rich, and handsome guy to marry and become a wealthy lady? How easy would that be? So what if there's a little grass on your head? For money, what can't be sacrificed?"
Shi Qing spoke with great enthusiasm, her expression particularly ugly.
Gu Kaiyang slammed her keyboard aside, looking as if she was about to rush forward and hit someone. A junior editor nearby quickly grabbed her, urging, "Sister Gu, let it go, let it go."
This year, Shi Qing had been constantly suppressed by Gu Kaiyang at the magazine office. Finally having a chance to vent her resentment, she naturally became even more aggressive.
"You want to hit me, is that it? Come on then! Hit me! Come on, come hit me!""Did I say something wrong? Isn't Ji Mingshu usually quite arrogant? Looking down on everyone, acting all high and mighty—isn't it just because her husband has a bit of filthy money? Don’t think I don’t know what she really is in the Ji family! The Ji family raising her is no different from raising a Yangzhou 'skinny horse' in ancient times—at most, her status just seems a bit more respectable. What’s with the superiority complex? Does she dare to get a divorce? She wouldn’t even dare to let out a fart!"
Gu Kaiyang’s eyes were red with rage. "Move aside! Don’t anyone dare hold me back! If I don’t tear this bitch apart today, I won’t be surnamed Gu!!"
Before Gu Kaiyang’s words had fully faded, the door to the deputy editor’s office was pushed open with a bang!
Ji Mingshu was wearing a pair of strappy high heels today. The heels were meticulously crafted into the shape of the brand’s letters, clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. The satin ribbons, with a subtle sheen, wrapped around her slender, pale ankles and tied into a knot, exuding a cold, refined beauty.
She walked in these shoes, clicking all the way to Shi Qing, her gaze slowly drifting from head to toe. Then she reached out, lifting Shi Qing’s chin slightly.
"What do you think you are?"
She had reapplied her lipstick—a matte, true red shade. Her lips were perfectly shaped and exquisitely defined. Her words were light, slow, and utterly cold.
Just as Shi Qing had said, standing before her was a natural, innate air of superiority.
Ji Mingshu: "The bag is fake. The ring was made by a designer copying T’s classic design from a picture. You have no respect for design at all—how are you even fit to work at a magazine?"
The moment she was exposed, Shi Qing’s mind went blank with a buzzing sound. Shame and anger flushed her from behind her ears all the way down her neck.
"You can’t stand me, right? So whenever I’m the slightest bit unhappy, you jump out to humiliate me, right? But remember this: no matter how down and out I, Ji Mingshu, may be, it will never be your place to criticize me."
Her hand, which had been holding Shi Qing’s chin, suddenly let go, as if disgusted by the touch. She casually grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and wiped her fingers.
The office fell into dead silence.
After wiping her hands, Ji Mingshu put on her sunglasses, picked up the documents she had just printed in Gu Kaiyang’s office, and walked out without leaving behind even a trace of expression.
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