Ji Mingshu didn't speak. Even without this friend's notification, she already knew—she had been dragged onto the hot search list.
#Designer#
#Designer Ji Mingshu#
#Ji Mingshu Yan Yuexing#
Three of the top ten trending topics were about her, and beyond the top fifteen, there were also Pei Xiyan and Feng Yan, who had been dragged into the drama by the show's production team. For a home renovation show to stir up this much heat, it could be said they were sparing no expense.
Ji Mingshu pursed her lips, her face expressionless, but upon closer observation, one could notice her hand holding the phone trembling slightly.
The other friends who had come to watch the musical with them weren't sitting in the same row as her and Vivian. Now, as the show ended and they came over to find them, they had also learned about the hot search. Gathering together, they chattered in surprise and discussion:
"What's going on here?"
"Who is this Yan Yuexing? She looks like some third-rate nobody. Is she using our Xiaoshu for clout?"
"Without a doubt, she is."
"Hey, isn't the sponsor of this show Junyi? How could it end up like this? Has the production team gone crazy?"
...
To be honest, these friends might be superficial, but when they stand on your side and unleash a torrent of insults at others, it can be quite comforting.
Like now, without these friends flattering her while putting others down, Ji Mingshu would probably be so angry she could barely walk steadily, let alone leave the theater normally and get into her car.
On the way home, Ji Mingshu sat in the back seat the entire time, staring at her phone. The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, feeling that her expression wasn't quite right. He was on edge, afraid that this little princess would throw another tantrum and make him change routes halfway.
After all, last time, this little princess said she needed to pick something up at Xinggang International, and she ended up disappearing without a trace. Afterward, he was sternly warned by Assistant Zhou, who even threatened to deduct his year-end bonus if it happened again.
And now it was almost New Year—how could he risk losing his year-end bonus at this critical time?
The driver made up his mind: if the little princess really threw a fit this time, he would have to call Assistant Zhou first to make sure he was completely absolved of responsibility.
Fortunately, what he feared didn't happen. Although the little princess's expression grew darker and darker along the way, she returned smoothly to Mingshui Mansion. Once he delivered her safe and sound, whether she was in a good mood or not was no longer his concern.
【You stupid bitch, your entire family for nineteen generations is dead!】
【Fuck you, what kind of trash are you to act all high and mighty in front of our Xingxing? You deserve to be fucked!】
【Your mother's dead, your father's dead, your whole family is dead!】
On Weibo, comments and private messages filled with such vulgar insults kept pouring in. Some of Yan Yuexing's fans even took screenshots of her from the show, edited them into funeral portraits, and sent them to her.
Ji Mingshu sat on the living room sofa. The crystal chandelier shone brightly, hurting her eyes. She rubbed them, and suddenly, large teardrops began to fall.
For over twenty years, she had been pampered and sheltered. This was the first time she had been insulted by so many people with such harsh words. She was furious, so angry she felt like she was about to explode. But beyond the anger, she also felt a sense of helpless panic and fear.She sat in a daze for over half an hour, then picked up her phone and called Cen Sen, only to hear a mechanical female voice: "The number you have dialed is powered off."
Her stagnant thoughts, like rusty gears, were nudged by that voice and slowly turned.
Oh, he should be on a plane right now, from the capital to Paris, which takes about eleven hours, maybe even delayed. That dead pig trotter.
Trembling, she put down her phone, wrapped her arms around her legs, and buried her head inside, forcing herself to calm down, forcing herself not to think about those verbal attacks.
In fact, in just this short half hour, many people had called and messaged her to show concern—Gu Kaiyang, Jiang Chun, Cen Yang, Li Che, Feng Yan... even Pei Xiyan, who had just finished evening self-study and was reminded by his agent to check the news.
But she didn’t want to answer, read, or reply to any of them. She only wanted to hear Cen Sen’s voice, only wanted to see Cen Sen, nothing more.
On the other side, Cen Sen had just arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport. It was afternoon in Paris, the sky bright and glaring.
With the New Year approaching, he didn’t want to travel for work, and Zhou Jiaheng indeed hadn’t scheduled any business trips for him.
But this time, Cen Yuanchao had called directly, asking him to fly to Paris to meet with investors and discuss the South Bay Project, a collaboration between Jingjian and the Ji family.
South Bay was a near-shore island free trade zone covering twenty-five square kilometers, located east of Nancheng, with an exceptionally advantageous geographical location.
During the Ji family’s peak, they had joined forces with the Su family to secure the development rights for the South Bay Project and established the South Bay Development and Construction Company. The Ji and Su families held 51% of the company’s shares, while the remaining 49% was controlled by the South Bay District government.
As the marriage alliance between the Ji and Su families dissolved and internal power shifts occurred within the Su family, the new leader deemed the South Bay Project’s investment cycle too long and its risk index too high. Preferring to cut losses, they decided to transfer their shares and withdraw.
The Ji family, unwilling to let outsiders interfere and lose control, had no choice but to turn to their new in-laws, the Cen family, for cooperation.
Cen Yuanchao was somewhat interested in the project. Unlike the Su family, whose funds were limited and unable to spare resources for such a long-term, large-scale investment, the Cen family had the capacity. After assembling a team to evaluate the project, Cen Yuanchao made the decision to take over the Su family’s shares and collaborate with the Ji family on development, investing billions in infrastructure during the initial phase.
Such a massive project, with such a long cycle, couldn’t rely solely on the sustained efforts of just two families. Therefore, both families had been seeking suitable investors without relinquishing control.
This time, a wealthy French-Chinese tycoon expressed interest in the project. Cen Yuanchao specifically asked Cen Sen to handle the negotiations personally, as the future development of South Bay and the entire Jingjian would eventually be handed over to him.
Zhou Jiaheng, as usual, accompanied him on the business trip. After getting off the plane, he briefed Cen Sen on the itinerary in Paris while powering on his work phone.
Less than ten seconds after turning it on, a call came in.
"Hello?" He took a step back and answered, but the more he listened, the worse his expression became.
Cen Sen’s phone was still booting up. He glanced at Zhou Jiaheng and, for some reason, felt an ominous premonition.
Sure enough, after finishing the call, Zhou Jiaheng lowered his head, his face ashen, and reported, "I’m sorry, Mr. Cen. There’s a problem with the Designer program that Madam participated in. My apologies, I failed in my duty."
"Explain clearly."The assistant's instinct prompted Zhou Jiaheng to subconsciously organize his words concisely. He briefly recounted to Cen Sen how Ji Mingshu had been criticized and trended on social media after the second episode aired, then lowered his voice and said, "I will immediately contact the production team and relevant media to take down the news."
Zhou Jiaheng knew he bore undeniable responsibility for this matter. Not long ago, after Cen Sen and Ji Mingshu reconciled, Cen Sen had specifically asked him how he had communicated with the production team before and whether he had instructed them to cut all of Ji Mingshu's scenes.
He truthfully answered "no"—he had only asked the production team to change the Ji Mingshu and Li Che pairing and not to make Ji Mingshu the focus of the filming.
To prevent the production team from misunderstanding and cutting all of Ji Mingshu's scenes, Cen Sen had even instructed him to clarify, ensuring Ji Mingshu appeared normally.
It should have been a simple matter, but Zhou Jiaheng had overthought it. To avoid the production team going overboard and shifting from no scenes to heavily promoting her, he didn’t directly reveal Ji Mingshu’s identity. Instead, he asked the production team to send the edited footage for review first.
At that time, Ji Mingshu’s group had only completed a small portion of the program, specifically the first half of the premiere episode.
Zhou Jiaheng skimmed through it and found that the production team hadn’t misunderstood his instructions or cut all of Ji Mingshu’s scenes.
Moreover, Ji Mingshu appeared as frequently as the other amateur designers, and her performance was decent. Satisfied, he didn’t say anything more.
But he had little experience with entertainment programs and never considered the possibility of malicious editing.
Additionally, with his heavy workload, he couldn’t possibly have time to review large amounts of raw footage and compare it with the final edited version.
So when he heard the news, his mind went blank.
Zhou Jiaheng had followed Cen Sen for many years, always cautious and never making mistakes. Yet, this small production team had caused him to stumble twice, each time more serious than the last.
His heart sank. He no longer dared to think about his year-end bonus; all he wanted now was to shut down the production team, handle the online backlash, and then find a quiet spot abroad to disappear for a while.
However, Cen Sen clearly had no mood to deal with him at the moment.
After turning on his phone, Cen Sen immediately called Ji Mingshu. The phone rang about three times before she answered.
There was silence on the other end—no breathing, only the faint sound of static.
Lost in thought, Cen Sen stopped moving in the airport terminal.
The meeting with the investor was scheduled for that evening. The other party had gone to great lengths to free up an evening to host him and had even mentioned earlier how they had arranged an authentic French feast to showcase genuine French hospitality and their expectations and sincerity for the collaboration.
If he turned around now and rushed back to the capital, there would be no hope for this partnership.
After a long, long time, he suddenly said, "Mingshu, I’m sorry. I’ll come back right away."
Ji Mingshu had been holding herself together, comforting herself that it wasn’t a big deal and that Cen Sen would surely seek justice for her once he found out. But when she finally received his call and heard him say "I’m sorry," she couldn’t hold back any longer and burst into tears, overwhelmed with grievance.She cried and sobbed, still managing to curse him intermittently between hiccups. "You... what kind of husband are you... investing in a show and letting your wife get cursed at... Tell me, do you secretly hate me? Wuwu Cen Sen, you jerk! I didn't do anything... It wasn't at all like what they showed on the program, I, I didn't bully anyone! Hic..." By the end, she was crying so hard she started hiccupping.
"Yeah, I'm a jerk," he murmured, eyes closed, his voice growing even huskier. "Don't cry anymore, be good."
Ji Mingshu kept tearing tissues to wipe her tears while cursing him, going on like this for a full five minutes.
But when she heard Cen Sen lower his voice and tell Zhou Jiaheng to book tickets for an immediate return flight, she suddenly remembered how important he had said this collaboration was before he left. Choking up again, she cried out, "Don't!"
"What?"
"Don't come back, just stay in Paris and reflect on yourself!"
Cen Sen paused only briefly before understanding.
After a long moment, he asked, "Will you be okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be? Even my cousin knows to help me take down the trending topics. By the time news reaches you in your remote corner, my grave would already be overgrown with curses. You're not allowed to come back!"
Ji Mingshu's voice still carried a sob, but there was also a sense of relief after venting, and even a kind of... satisfaction from being comforted, known only to herself.
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