The snow on Mingshui Lake fell for an entire night. Around seven or eight in the morning, the rustling sound of the falling snow suddenly grew frantic for a moment. The evergreen trees on the island were all bent low by the weight of the heavy snow.
The daylight outside was still a dim, grayish-white, but the reflection off the snow was somewhat glaring. Cen Sen used the remote to draw the curtains, then suddenly remembered to apply medicine to the deeply sleeping Ji Mingshu.
This was his first time performing such a task. His touch was a little heavy and far from practiced. In her sleep, Ji Mingshu frowned and even kicked him subconsciously.
He tilted his head to dodge it, not holding it against her, and simply pressed down on her ankle with a bit of force. After applying the medicine, he glanced at the time, unbuttoned his shirt, and stood up to walk to the bathroom.
With less than a month until the New Year, the year-end work at Junyi had entered its final stages. Most employees could finally breathe a sigh of relief, slack off a bit, and wait for their vacation to go home for the holidays.
But as the president of the group, Cen Sen had no real vacation to speak of. If he had to be busy, he could truly work three hundred and sixty-five days a year without a break, just as he had during his two years in Australia.
This year, however, he broke from his usual routine. From mid-January to the eighth day of the new year, he didn't let Zhou Jiaheng schedule any trips that required him to travel. His work arrangements before the New Year were also relatively simple; he only needed to go to the company to handle daily affairs and attend a few scattered social engagements.
The sound of water trickled from the bathroom. Ji Mingshu, still in a daze, thought it was raining outside. She rolled over, and an inexplicable coolness spread from the spot that had been swollen and sore. She flinched. As the "rain" pattered on before coming to an abrupt halt, her consciousness gradually returned.
By the time she managed to pry her eyes open, she happened to see Cen Sen walking out of the bathroom. He was tilting his chin up slightly, fastening the top button of his collar.
Almost without thinking, she immediately squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the small blanket tighter around herself, trembling.
It was too terrifying. That pervert Cen Sen was simply too terrifying. Ji Mingshu now felt that before last night, she knew absolutely nothing about what a pervert Cen Sen was!
Abstinent? Asexual? Not a chance. The first time that pervert had made his "public grain contribution" after returning to the country hadn't been nearly as fierce as last night.
She had thought it was over after she went into the bathroom last night, but she never expected that the nightmare was just beginning. And when she had just been groggily waking up this morning, she had been pinned down like an innocent salted fish on a chopping block, dying and coming back to life over and over again.
Right now, she was in a state of utter despair, feeling that she would never again fantasize about braised pork ribs for the rest of her life. Regret. All she felt now was immense regret.
As her thoughts ran wild, a cool kiss suddenly landed on her forehead. Her nerves tensed, and she didn't dare open her eyes.
Cen Sen didn't force her, only instructing in a low voice, "I'm going to the company. You're not feeling well, so don't go out today. Let the auntie know what you want for lunch. I'll cook for you when I get back tonight."
Ji Mingshu kept her eyes closed and shook her head repeatedly, the lower half of her face hiding spinelessly in the blanket. Her voice was muffled. "I don't want you to cook."
"..."
He understood and felt a slight urge to laugh.
"Fine, I'll figure it out myself. Just go, go!"
Ji Mingshu started shooing him away, burrowing her head deeper into the blanket.
Cen Sen didn't say anything more. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, then stood up and left.
As he closed the door, his gaze lingered on the small, curled-up shrimp on the bed, a tenderness in his eyes that even he hadn't noticed.
"55, 56, 57, 58..."
Zhou Jiaheng watched the second hand of his watch move with a regular rhythm. His obsessive-compulsive tendencies made him stop counting only when it had reached a full minute.
One hour and fifty-three minutes.
Hm, today the boss left one hour and fifty-three minutes later than usual.
He saw Cen Sen in the distance, cracking his knuckles while slightly loosening his shoulders and neck. A thought came to him, and his mind stirred.
As Cen Sen drew closer, Zhou Jiaheng quickly got out of the car, respectfully opened the rear passenger door, and even raised a hand to shield the car roof for Cen Sen. He greeted him along the way, "Good morning, Boss."
"Morning."
Cen Sen was the type of superior who never let his emotions show, but having been by his side for several years, Zhou Jiaheng understood him better than others.
For three hundred and sixty days out of the year, Cen Sen was cold-blooded and ruthless. But today, his aura was gentle and his demeanor relaxed; he was clearly in a good mood. Encountering a day like this was rarer than being suddenly notified of a promotion and a raise.
Zhou Jiaheng was sharp. In the car, after reporting on work and laying a long foundation about the employees' New Year benefits, he nonchalantly brought up his own deducted year-end bonus.
Sure enough, without even looking up, Cen Sen replied, "You'll get your full year-end bonus. If you have anything else, say it all at once."
Zhou Jiaheng was a little embarrassed. "As expected, nothing gets past you, Boss."
He rubbed his hands together and said carefully, "I actually do have a small matter I need your help with. You know I have a nephew who's a little over six? I've mentioned him to you before. He looks just like me, super cute..."
Cen Sen rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He quickly got to the point. "My little nephew was studying in Nancheng before, and now my brother and sister-in-law want to transfer him to the capital to attend Qingxiao Elementary. You know how hard it is to get into Qingxiao..."
Cen Sen raised a hand to interrupt. "Connect me to Director Zhao's line later."
"Ah, thank you, President Cen! Thank you, President Cen!"
Zhou Jiaheng was so delighted he agreed profusely.
Qingxiao was no ordinary elementary school. Even though he himself had some sway with Director Zhao, he couldn't guarantee he could get it done. But with a word from Cen Sen, there would naturally be no problems whatsoever.
However, on a normal day, he wouldn't have had the nerve to ask Cen Sen for this.
Projects worth tens of millions, hundreds of millions, or even tens of billions were still lined up, and it would be far too strange for him to bring up a trivial matter like a child's school transfer.
Besides, if he had, Cen Sen would probably have given him a look that said, "Have you earned enough money and want to go home to retire?" He wouldn't have been as easygoing as he was now.
Zhou Jiaheng silently thanked Ji Mingshu one hundred and eighty times in his heart. Then, to show his gratitude, he mentioned that there was a private collection auction before the New Year, noting how rare several sets of jewelry were—which set was suitable for an elder, which for a junior, and which for the madam.
Cen Sen leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes to rest. For some reason, his mind was filled with the image of Ji Mingshu's delicate moans beneath him last night.
He unconsciously bobbed his Adam's apple, and his voice grew deep and husky. "Buy them."
The Bentley arrived at the Junyi headquarters building thirty minutes later, and Cen Sen began another busy day of work.
Meanwhile, Ji Mingshu drifted in and out of sleep, only becoming fully awake in the evening.
—Before this, she never would have imagined that she would spend her first day back home in bed.
After last night's silent affair, the shrewd Gu Kaiyang naturally guessed what kind of indescribable, naughty things Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen had been up to. She had been in the group chat since early morning, proclaiming herself a hero, showing none of the feigned ignorance and guilt of a traitor from the day before.
10:00 AM—
Gu Kaiyang: [Ji Mingshu, sis, when are you coming to move your luggage? Are you still moving it? If not, I'll reluctantly accept these Hermès bags, okay?]
3:00 PM—
Gu Kaiyang: [Sis??? Still not awake??? Did your husband screw you so hard you can't get out of bed???]
Jiang Chun: [???]
Jiang Chun: [squared bewilderment.jpg]
Jiang Chun: [Gu-speak is so scary!]
Jiang Chun: [Mommy, I want to leave the group!!!]
Jiang Chun: [Waaaah, I don't feel like that pure little cute goose anymore!]
Gu Kaiyang grinned, wearing the mischievous expression of a mother showing her child the world.
Jiang Chun, this Little Earth Goose, also had a weak will. Her resolve as a newbie lasted less than five minutes before she was completely brainwashed by Gu-speak, extending a tentative little goose foot to explore a brand-new world.
When Ji Mingshu opened the chat messages in the evening, the conversation—starting with Jiang Chun's "President Cen seems quite asexual"—had veered irreversibly in the direction of getting the group banned. One old pro and one newbie had somehow managed to discuss over four hundred messages' worth of topics about the sexes.
During this time, Editor Gu had even produced a string of golden phrases—
"Men who are overtly flirty are half genuinely horny and half just man-children, but 90% of men who are reserved are extremely lustful."
"A man like President Cen is obviously one who gets big things done. He's definitely full of tricks."
"Ji Mingshu doesn't eat much or exercise, so her stamina is probably not great. By my simple estimation, she'll probably be unable to get out of bed for three days and three nights."
Ji Mingshu paused, retorting silently in her heart: She could get out of bed now, she just didn't want to, okay?! Hadn't she ever heard the saying, 'Only the ox dies of exhaustion; the field is never over-plowed'?!
But Gu Kaiyang's first two sentences were quite right... That pervert Cen Sen really was so lustful.
She and Cen Sen had been married for a long time. In the past, she didn't seem to get very shy during their marital life because it was always in the dark and very formulaic. They would just get it over with, wash up, and go to sleep. But last night, he had actually bent down... and later, he had deliberately carried her in front of the mirror, slowing his movements to coax and entice her to watch!
Recalling the details, Ji Mingshu suddenly grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head again, her whole body flushing red with embarrassment.
Because last night had left such a violent impact on her body and mind, she was in no mood to care about Little White Lotus's latest movements after the salon, nor was she in the mood to deal with Gu Kaiyang.
The producer of the show Designer sent her a message asking her to forward the Weibo post about the show's premiere tonight. She responded with a zen-like "okay," exuding a "peace & love," serene white lotus vibe from her real self to her WeChat.
Ji Mingshu didn't usually use Weibo much, only browsing news and liking posts, and occasionally jumping in to tear someone apart for Pei Xiyan.
It was only because the show's team had messaged her tirelessly that she reluctantly got a yellow V verification as an interior designer. She also changed her username from a string of characters she had once typed by smashing her face on the keyboard to the proper three characters of "Ji Mingshu."
Her account originally had only a few hundred followers, half of which were zombie accounts for advertising, and the other half were fair-weather friends from her circle who insisted on mutual follows.
After her verification was approved, the show's team bought her thirty thousand followers and even notified her with a "you're welcome" tone. She had been speechless at the time and hadn't even replied to the message.
Now, she logged into Weibo, followed the show's official account, forwarded the post, and then immediately logged off. She didn't even glance at the new followers or private messages. Her mind was completely preoccupied with whether Cen Sen would continue to torment her when he came back tonight, whether Cen Sen had taken some kind of drug, and how she could face Cen Sen more naturally...
Unexpectedly, the result was just as she wished—tonight, Cen Sen had a last-minute meeting with a real estate boss he had a long-term partnership with. The man had come from afar specifically to visit, and it would be unreasonable to refuse. As for what time he would be home, it was still uncertain.
After reading Cen Sen's message, Ji Mingshu only replied with an "okay" before exiting the chat interface. But three seconds later, she suddenly clicked back in and scrolled up through the chat history for a while.
Strange, when did this damn man develop the habit of reporting his schedule to her? But it was a good habit. Mm, he could keep it.
And so, on the night Ji's Shushu was left to guard an empty room alone, she simply admired her newly expanded cloakroom. When eight o'clock arrived, she turned on the TV to watch the premiere of Designer.
She guessed that Cen Sen must have spoken to the production team again, as she hadn't been completely edited out. The opening lottery grouping and project selection segments both had shots of her.
Although there weren't many, every shot was beautiful. It was as if she had a built-in Apple-brand beauty light; she looked stunningly and prominently beautiful, making the gaudily dressed teen idol Yan Yuexing next to her look like a thirty-eighth-tier extra.
She had no idea that at this very moment, a gossip forum was discussing—In the past, I only thought there was a wall between actors and idols. I never expected there to be a wall between a regular person and an idol too.
Ji Mingshu was quite satisfied with her on-screen appearance. She watched while eating grapes, but the more she watched, the more she felt that something was off.
Why did it feel like the broadcasted content, in many segments, didn't match the order of events or even the sequence of dialogue from the actual recording?
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