Ji Mingshu: "You told Pei Xiyan to keep his distance from me?"
Ji Mingshu: "Are you even human?"
Ji Mingshu: "After meeting you, all I want to know is how many years you get for murder.jpg"
Ten minutes later, she received a reply from Cen Sen.
Cen Sen didn't say anything, but in response to the meme she had just sent, he fired back a screenshot of the legal provisions on sentencing for intentional homicide.
At a glance, most of it started at ten years, with suspended death sentences and the death penalty prominently featured.
Ji Mingshu: "?"
Ji Mingshu: "I think you don't want a wife anymore.jpg"
Seeing this meme, Cen Sen didn't continue to argue. Instead, he held down the voice message button and said calmly, "Having too much contact with a popular celebrity won't do you any good. You should tone it down a bit."
He glanced at the time and added, "By the way, I'm flying to Los Angeles tonight and will be back in a week. But I'll stop by the capital first before coming to Star City."
"Zhou Jiaheng is already in Star City. If you need anything, you can contact him."
The situation at the Star City branch was more troublesome than expected.
In recent years, Jingjian had been unstable internally. Cen Yuanchao had spent a great deal of effort cleaning things up, but as a result, the day-to-day affairs under Junyi had been somewhat neglected.
As the second most important stronghold of the Junyi Group, the Star City branch had been left under the control of its senior management for years, creating a fragmented power structure. Breaking through and dismantling it overnight was unrealistic; it would have to be done piece by piece, slowly grinding away at it.
Cen Sen couldn't halt his other work just for the internal conflicts of one branch, so he sent Zhou Jiaheng to keep an eye on things while he temporarily stepped away to focus on more important collaborations.
After receiving these two voice messages, Ji Mingshu paused for three seconds.
Was this his reason for breaking up the "Sparrow Pair"?
But when she tried messaging Cen Sen again, there was no response, as if her messages had sunk into the sea.
Furious, she immediately went for the "never see each other again" deluxe package, blocking and deleting him in one smooth motion. In her heart, she couldn't help but curse this dog of a man, wishing him a smooth journey. Worried that her curses weren't potent enough, she even drew a few polygons and triangular prisms.
After venting her anger, Ji Mingshu thought that since the path with Cen Sen was now blocked, she might still find a breakthrough with Pei Xiyan.
The kid wasn't that old; coaxing him for a bit would probably get him to spill everything—like how he and Cen Sen knew each other and exactly what Cen Sen had said about keeping their distance. She could even brainwash him a little, telling him not to listen to Cen Sen's nonsense.
But she never expected that Pei Xiyan, despite his youth, had incredibly strong principles. Once he agreed with Cen Sen to keep his distance from her, he refused to have any physical contact, rarely even made eye contact, let alone allowed her to get close enough to persuade him. During the show, whenever he sensed her trying to approach, he would dodge away on his own.
Ji Mingshu was livid.
The only silver lining was that this deliberate distance, in the context of Pei Xiyan's uniformly cold demeanor toward everyone, didn't stand out too much.
He remained quiet and aloof throughout, only following instructions, putting the saying "do more, talk less" into practice with remarkable thoroughness.
In contrast, Yan Yuexing was the complete opposite. The other three members of the group combined didn't talk as much as she did, yet she did the least work. Even sweeping the floor required frequent breaks to catch her breath, all while chattering cutely in front of the camera, acting cute and coquettish.
That alone would have been tolerable, but she not only avoided work—she actively caused trouble.Ji Mingshu: "What did you buy? Six thousand five hundred? Are you insane?"
Under the triple pressures of "financial difficulties," "you're the backbone," and "the little one won't talk to me," Ji Mingshu grasped the hardships of life in just a few short days.
At first, she had no concept of a design budget at all, thinking that two hundred thousand wasn't even enough to renovate a bathroom, let alone transform an entire house—it was simply a joke.
Later, she secretly asked experienced designers from other teams and searched online for home renovation cases of ordinary families, only then realizing that the funds provided by the production team were actually within a reasonable range.
Moreover, she had spent several consecutive days visiting building material markets and furniture markets. Only by wandering through the markets herself did she discover that many materials weren't as expensive as she had assumed, including soft furnishings. If one didn't pursue classic works or limited-edition products by famous furniture designers, there was actually a lot of room for choice.
In just a few days, the extravagant Miss Ji, who had never known scarcity, had already created a long Excel spreadsheet for this two hundred thousand renovation fund, meticulously budgeting down to the single digits. She repeatedly emphasized to her team members not to buy any impractical decorations that didn't align with the design plan.
Who would have thought that Yan Yuexing, completely disregarding teamwork, would suddenly bring back a rug priced at six thousand five hundred?
Faced with Ji Mingshu's questioning, which teetered on the edge of a full-blown argument, Yan Yuexing still had the audacity to act innocent and justified: "It's a rug. Don't you think it's beautiful? It's a limited edition released by a very famous designer this year. The home furnishing market only has this last piece left, you know."
With just one glance, Ji Mingshu knew which designer this came from. Without even looking up, she said, "Return it."
"Why should I return it? This rug is very versatile. Placed in the living room by the sofa, it would give off that postmodern vibe, right?"
After being criticized by Ji Mingshu during the first recording for having a taste that was too "country club socialite," Yan Yuexing was very displeased. She went back and crammed for a few days, and now she would occasionally drop terms like "postmodern" and "high saturation," which at first listen seemed to carry an artistic flair.
Ji Mingshu didn't even care that the cameras were still rolling anymore. She felt dizzy and suffocated, unleashing a torrent of scathing remarks.
"Can you just shut up? Do you even know what postmodernism is? This is bullshit postmodern!"
She picked up the rug and threw it in front of Yan Yuexing. "If you don't understand, then talk less and do more. Did you even graduate from college? Are the songs you sing your own original work? Do you have even the most basic respect for original design in your head? A brand that was collectively boycotted by the fashion industry and couldn't enter the Chinese market, stubbornly unchanged, collaborated with a furniture manufacturer to produce this piece of crap rug and still dares to sell it for six thousand five hundred? And the key is, there are half-baked people like you who genuinely praise it?"
It was almost laughable.
Yan Yuexing was instantly stunned by the mockery.
Feng Yan wanted to play peacemaker, but before he could finish saying "let it go," Ji Mingshu directly cut him off. "No, we can't let it go."
She stared coldly at Yan Yuexing. "Either you go return this rug right now, or you take the loss and cash it out yourself. In any case, my work doesn't need this kind of collectively boycotted garbage!"
She created that Excel spreadsheet and meticulously calculated costs, not to have it wasted on something like this.
This little girl still wants to play games with her? Go eat shit!After collaborating for several consecutive days, even all the crew members involved in the filming had come to understand—
In other groups, the amateur designers were merely decorative, occasionally having to tactfully handle the unreasonable and strange ideas of the celebrity guests.
But in this group, the designer was the true backbone, dominating in both ability and presence, essentially calling all the shots within the team.
Feng Yan and Pei Xiyan basically did whatever she asked them to do. Yan Yuexing, on the other hand, was someone who loved to stir up trouble, but she was no match for this designer and ended up frustrated every time.
She wanted to throw her weight around, but with Pei Xiyan quietly waiting to be assigned tasks, she didn’t have the clout to make the production team take her seriously. The directors simply ignored her.
So, without a doubt, the carpet dispute ended with Ji Mingshu winning comprehensively once again.
Yan Yuexing, feeling aggrieved, carried the carpet to the home furnishing market to return it, muttering a lot of white lotus quotes to the camera along the way.
However, Ji Mingshu didn’t have time to worry about all that. The renovation schedule was tight, and every aspect required her coordination and oversight.
All her previous works, including the conceptual projects she did while studying, didn’t require her personal involvement in implementation, making them somewhat theoretical.
This was her first time doing a more lifestyle-oriented interior design project, and also her first time participating in the actual renovation after completing the design drawings.
During the first two episodes of filming, she was still distracted, but once she truly got into the groove, she became fully immersed.
For lunch, they had boxed meals prepared by the production team. Although they were balanced with vegetables and meat, the presentation in plastic containers was far from refined. Coupled with the dusty and foul-smelling environment of the house under renovation, Ji Mingshu had no appetite at all.
While everyone else was eating, Ji Mingshu was still in the music room testing the effectiveness of the soundproofing materials.
When she stepped out of the music room, her vision suddenly went blank for a moment. It took about four or five seconds for her to recover from the stiff state.
Ji Mingshu rubbed her temples, feeling as though something was wrong with her body. Lately, she had been experiencing frequent dizziness and nausea, somewhat reminiscent of the early symptoms of pregnancy she’d heard about.
But she and Cen Sen hadn’t been intimate for a long time, and the last time they were, they had used protection. Moreover, she had her period not too long ago, so pregnancy seemed unlikely.
She walked to the balcony to breathe in some fresh air and suddenly remembered Yan Yuexing often complaining about the foul smell in the house, suggesting there might be formaldehyde that could poison them. This made her feel uneasy as well.
Things like wall paint were sponsored products, and she had searched online to confirm they were certified as environmentally friendly by national standards. But with such matters, who could say for sure?
Ji Mingshu probably hadn’t heard the saying, “Ask Baidu once, and you’re sick; ask twice, and your grave is already dug.” Too timid to see a doctor, she actually searched online for her physical symptoms.
After searching, her face turned pale, and she grew even more anxious.
In the following days, Ji Mingshu had no appetite, couldn’t sleep well, and spent her days running between the construction site and building material markets. She visibly lost weight, and no one knew what she imagined when lying alone in bed late at night.
A week passed quickly, and Cen Sen finally returned.While waiting at the airport, he noticed the brand of the handbag Ji Mingshu often carried and went in to buy the latest model.
Cen Sen had originally planned to return to the capital first to discuss the An family matter with the old master.
Little did he expect that as soon as he landed, Zhou Jiaheng called to say, "Mr. Cen, Madam fainted at the program recording site and was rushed to a nearby hospital half an hour ago."
"Understood."
Without even leaving the airport, he flew straight to Star City.
Ji Mingshu had suddenly fainted while moving furniture. She felt dizzy and nauseous, saw a flash of white light, and then collapsed unconscious.
The program crew urgently sent her to the hospital and notified the contact person she had listed.
The contact person she listed was Zhou Jiaheng.
As Cen Sen’s chief assistant, his reliability was probably a hundred times that of Cen Sen himself—his phone was always on and answered immediately.
Within half an hour of receiving the notification, he was already at the hospital.
But Ji Mingshu remained unconscious.
She slept until evening, when the last rays of the setting sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, casting an orange-red glow. Only then did Ji Mingshu slowly open her eyes.
It took about a minute or two for her consciousness to gradually return, and she realized she had suddenly fainted and ended up in the hospital.
Her eyes shifted, and she saw Cen Sen standing by the bed. Her heart sank heavily.
—Even Cen Sen had come.
Noticing she was awake, Cen Sen walked back to the bedside and said expressionlessly, "You’re awake."
Ji Mingshu didn’t speak, her face showing no emotion—neither sorrow nor joy. After a thousand internal struggles and countless regrets, she calmly asked, "What’s wrong with me?"
Cen Sen remained silent.
"It’s fine, tell me. I can handle it."
Ji Mingshu lowered her eyelashes. One hand was receiving an IV drip, while the other was clenched tightly into a fist under the covers. The thought of all the countries she hadn’t visited, the delicacies she hadn’t tasted, and the Platinum bags she hadn’t collected made her heart ache with a dull pain. She was even agonizing over whether to accept chemotherapy and whether it would make her look ugly.
"..."
"You were hungry."
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