The moment Ji Mingshu spoke, the car fell silent once more, and the atmosphere in the back seat grew even more delicate.
The driver didn't dare to breathe too loudly. He dropped Gu Kaiyang off at Xinggang International, then turned the car around and headed for Mingshui Mansion in the north of the city.
The night sky, washed clean by the rain, was an exceptionally pure ink-black. The Bentley sped along the overpass. Throughout the journey, neither Ji Mingshu nor Cen Sen said another word.
Building 13 of Mingshui Mansion was Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen's marital home, and it was where they had lived ever since they got married.
Pushing the door open, she was greeted by the sight of tidy furniture and bright ceiling lights. There wasn't even a speck of dust on the wooden partition in the entryway.
Cen Sen's eyes swept the room. "You haven't been staying at home recently?" Although it was a question, his tone was declarative.
"That's right. I've been out keeping a pretty boy."
Ji Mingshu leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. Her voice was idle, almost airy.
Cen Sen's gaze was placid.
Amused, Ji Mingshu quirked up one corner of her lips. She tilted her head, looking up at him without a hint of avoidance.
Some people just loved to put on an act. Countless pairs of eyes were watching her every move in the country, reporting back to him if she so much as ate a blade of grass, yet he still feigned ignorance and asked if she’d been staying at home.
After not seeing each other for two years, he didn't seem to find such a perfunctory greeting redundant and laughable.
They held each other's gaze for several seconds before Cen Sen finally looked away first. He had never liked to get entangled in meaningless topics, especially with his wife, whose brain had been short-circuited by the sparkle of diamonds.
Perhaps because it had been too long since anyone had lived here, the house felt cold despite the automatic climate control.
Cen Sen headed upstairs, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Watching him from a distance, Ji Mingshu kicked off her high heels and let out a soft sneer.
Although their marital relationship was lukewarm, they had not slept in separate rooms after getting married. The master bedroom on the second floor was spacious, with another door inside that led to an even more spacious walk-in closet.
When Ji Mingshu entered the bedroom, Cen Sen was just pushing open the door to the walk-in closet—
Wardrobes lined all four walls, with display counters for watches and jewelry in the center. As the spotlights turned on, the glass cases shimmered with a dazzling array of light and color.
Cen Sen stood at the entrance of the walk-in closet with his hands in his pockets, not moving for a long moment.
Ji Mingshu didn't walk over to him. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom and began untying the straps of her gown.
"Mingshu."
"Hm?" she asked, glancing at him through the mirror.
"Tidy up a bit."
Cen Sen turned his body halfway, clearing most of the doorway. He pulled off his tie from one side, slightly wrinkling his collar, and his brow furrowed along with it.
Only then did Ji Mingshu see that the floor of the walk-in closet was covered with gift bags and boxes, leaving no room to even set foot inside.
She was a little surprised. Walking over, she picked up a bag near the door and rummaged through it before finally remembering. "These must be gifts from the brands. There are so many already."
After Cen Sen had gone to Australia, she had spent most of her time traveling abroad. When she returned to the capital, she stayed in her city apartment.
The address registered with all the major brands was Mingshui Mansion. She couldn't be bothered to change it, so the gifts had kept being sent here.
The housekeeper had called to ask her what to do with these things, but she had been busy with something else at the time and casually said to just put them in the walk-in closet. She never imagined they would pile up like this.
"This is way too much. My apologies, I'll clean it up."
Although Ji Mingshu said she was sorry, there wasn't a trace of apology from the tips of her hair to her toes, much less any intention of actually cleaning.
She even unwrapped a shawl with great interest, examining it thoughtfully. "This shawl is too thick," she said. "I could bring it if I ever go to Antarctica. I could put it on a penguin."
"..."
Years of self-restraint had made Cen Sen forget how to roll his eyes. His face was expressionless, his voice shifting from its initial, patient gentleness to a cold and flat tone. "Clean up your things. I need to get my pajamas."
Ji Mingshu looked up and stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. "You can't even last three sentences before getting impatient. Your patience really isn't all that great, CEO Cen."
Her hand dropped, and the shawl covered her bare ankle. The next second, she extended the tip of her foot, tracing it slowly up along his ankle joint before hooking it on the inside of his calf, caressing him lightly.
It was like a seduction, but even more like a provocation.
Cen Sen gave her a deep look, then abruptly changed the subject. "If you can't even wait to take a shower, you can just say so."
The smile on her lips vanished instantly. She turned, kicked aside the gifts strewn across the closet floor, and yanked a set of men's pajamas from the wardrobe. Crumpling them into a ball, she threw them into Cen Sen's arms as if tossing out some non-recyclable trash.
Cen Sen caught the clothes but was suddenly in no hurry to shower.
He pondered for a moment before asking, "Mingshu, are you dissatisfied with me about something? Let's talk."
In the blink of an eye, he had reverted to his calm and gentle demeanor. He wasn't wearing glasses today; otherwise, he would have looked even more like a young professor benevolently enlightening a student.
Ji Mingshu scoffed, "I didn't realize you respected my opinion so much, CEO Cen."
Three days ago, Ji Mingshu had seen a post from Zhao Yang on her Moments feed.
The post had only four words—"A welcome-home dinner"—with a picture of a private room at a club. The photo featured Jiang Che and Chen Xingyu, but in a dim corner, Cen Sen's platinum watch had also been accidentally captured.
That platinum watch was a wedding gift to the two of them from the Cen family elders. The dial on Cen Sen's watch featured the Little Prince, while hers had a rose. It was a one-of-a-kind custom design from VCA.
In other words, he had been back in the country for at least three days.
Three days. Not a single phone call, not a single text message. He had gone straight to Star City to wine and dine with his degenerate friends.
If she didn't know about his extensive romantic history and his behavior in bed, she would have seriously wondered if she had been tricked into a sham marriage with a closeted gay man and had unwittingly become a beard overnight.
After hearing Ji Mingshu's accusations, Cen Sen finally understood why she had been so critical of him all evening.
He thought for a moment and said, "I assumed that, given our relationship, you had no interest in my itinerary. However, if you are interested, I can have my assistant send you a daily report from now on."
"..."
Who wanted his itinerary? Did the whole world have to watch over him like his mother to make sure he didn't get lost while walking on his own? And why did that sound so grating, almost like he was doing her a favor?
Ji Mingshu was not feeling well at all. The urge to point at his nose and curse him out reached her lips, but then she seemed to remember something. She silently chanted to herself, don't get angry, don't get angry, forcing herself to close her eyes and calm down.
Ji Mingshu was naturally beautiful with fair skin. Even for the banquet, her foundation was light. Standing under the hallway light now, her bright red lips were pressed into a thin line, making her face look both radiant and translucent.
Having known her for nearly twenty years, Cen Sen had never approved of her spoiled princess attitude, but he had never denied that she had been a stunning beauty with bright eyes and pearly teeth since childhood, captivating at first glance.
Beautiful women always had a way of softening one's heart. Seeing that she was about to explode with anger, Cen Sen took the unprecedented step of backing down. "Alright, I was in the wrong this time."
"You 'were in the wrong'? What do you mean by that? You were!"
The anger Ji Mingshu had just suppressed was reignited by his straight-man concession, which sounded more like "I can't be bothered to argue with you."
Their marriage had been a choice to maximize the interests of both their families. Although neither of them was particularly happy with their choice of spouse, children from their kind of background had been aware since they were young that their marriages were not theirs to decide. After all, you couldn't just enjoy the benefits of your family and then demand to pursue love and freedom the moment you put down your bowl.
On the matter of their marriage, both Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen had been exceptionally cooperative and had long ago reached a consensus on "maintaining a loving facade in public."
"You came back without a word, accompanied Su Cheng to a banquet where I was present, bid on a necklace for Su Cheng, and didn't even inform me beforehand. Whose face were you trying to slap? Were you trying to tell the whole world that we're not close?!"
Ji Mingshu's voice grew louder with each word, as if she were trying to make up for her lack of height with volume.
Cen Sen rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if annoyed by her noise, and explained coolly, "I had dinner with Director Pei this afternoon. It wasn't convenient for him, so I was just helping out. Su Cheng is over forty. No one would think I was slapping you in the face by accompanying her. Also, I didn't know you would be at this banquet."
Ji Mingshu gave it a simple translation—Oh, who knew you'd be there? I don't pay attention to you. Who are you?
This was probably what Ji Mingshu hated most about Cen Sen. He never took anyone or anything seriously. He was always rational and calm, or rather, always indifferent.
She was a vibrant flower, accustomed to being the center of attention, and she could not tolerate being ignored by someone who didn't see her as the center of the universe.
The topic died out unresolved. While showering, Ji Mingshu closed her eyes and thought: If she could end this widowed marriage, she would be willing to go without sex for five years.
After spending two hours in the bathroom, Ji Mingshu finally emerged slowly.
As exquisite as she was, her daily skincare routine was an indispensable ritual, morning and night.
Before he went to Australia, Cen Sen had lived with her for a period and had some understanding of her habits. Without a doubt, she was the type of extreme perfectionist who would force herself to put on a full face of makeup even if she were about to faint from anemia—beautiful and shallow.
Now, Ji Mingshu had changed into a hazy-blue silk slip dress. Her arms and calves were bare, her figure slender and well-proportioned.
Her long, dark, glossy curls were fluffy and soft after being blow-dried. As she walked forward barefoot, the casually falling ends of her hair swayed with the hem of her dress, carrying with them the faint mist from the bathroom, creating a look that was both innocent and subtly alluring.
Cen Sen glanced at her. Perhaps this "vase" was too pleasing to the eye, because he glanced at her again a second later.
"What are you looking at?"
Cen Sen chuckled but didn't reply.
Ji Mingshu, for some reason, was on guard. She stared at him intently as she sat down on the edge of the bed, then lifted her legs up one by one. Seeing that he made no move, she finally pulled the soft duvet up and lay down, covering herself completely, leaving only her pretty and lovely head exposed.
Ji Mingshu said, "Turn off the light. I'm going to sleep."
Cen Sen didn't say much and obediently turned off the floor lamp.
In the darkness, their breaths were out of sync at first, but soon they merged into the same quiet, even rhythm.
Having not shared a bed with anyone for two years, Ji Mingshu was a little unaccustomed to it. She tossed and turned, feeling that something was off.
Cen Sen, however, was very well-behaved. He lay flat on his back and didn't move.
A faint, woody scent hung in the air, probably fir—the scent of fir on a cloudy day.
Just as she was drifting off to sleep, Ji Mingshu suddenly sensed an aggression that was very close. By the time she opened her eyes, Cen Sen had already covered her, his arms propped on either side of her waist, trapping her beneath him.
The light in the night was dim. She could vaguely make out the sharp line of Cen Sen's jaw. Below it, his Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. Above, in his calm, ink-black eyes, desire churned.
Having been without intimacy for so long, Ji Mingshu's reaction was a bit slow. It wasn't until he had teased her to the point where her shoulder strap slipped that she began to feel something.
Outside the window, the moonlight was like water, shimmering coolly. The unpleasantness from before bed was temporarily stranded by its shore.
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