In the end, Ji Mingshu reluctantly accepted Cen Sen’s gift—delivered from afar and straight to her doorstep—with a mix of outward reluctance and inner shy delight.
A little past ten in the evening, Ji Mingshu was carried into the bathroom. Her face was flushed, her jaw damp with sweat, and a few stray strands of hair clung to her slender cheeks.
Cen Sen placed her in the warm water, gently brushing aside the stray hairs. His clear eyes met hers, his voice as deep as ever, tinged with a hint of amusement. "Your stamina needs work. You should exercise more."
Without a second thought, Ji Mingshu pinched his cheek, then pushed his face away. "You’re so annoying!"
Her tone held seven parts shyness and three parts coquettishness, but not a trace of genuine dislike.
Truth be told, Ji Mingshu knew her stamina wasn’t great, but she hadn’t realized Cen Sen’s could be so astonishingly good, repeatedly surpassing her expectations.
He had only arrived in Paris last night and was already back home by this evening, having even negotiated a collaboration with investors in between. Even with transportation arranged and some sleep caught on the plane, such a nonstop round trip was incredibly draining. She had assumed the gift-giving process would be a brief affair of twenty or thirty minutes, never imagining she had underestimated him so much.
In the gently flowing warm water of the bathtub, after Ji Mingshu washed her hair, Cen Sen combed it smooth for her, then wrung out the excess water and helped her put on a hair-drying cap.
These were tasks Cen Sen had never done before, and now he followed Ji Mingshu’s step-by-step guidance, his movements slightly clumsy.
Fortunately, Ji Mingshu didn’t mind. She tucked away the stray wet strands, glancing back at him from the corner of her eye, unable to suppress a secret smile.
Having skipped dinner and exhausted from hours of "exercise," Ji Mingshu was utterly drained and ravenous.
After her bath, Cen Sen used the remaining ingredients in the fridge to make two bowls of tomato and egg noodles, giving Ji Mingshu the last few slices of luncheon meat.
Once her stomach was full, Ji Mingshu, for once, played the part of a virtuous and gentle wife, refraining from bossing him around. Instead, she lay in bed and recounted the frustrating events of the past two days.
Cen Sen had already received a detailed and timely report from Zhou Jiaheng, but Zhou’s account naturally lacked Ji Mingshu’s personal feelings and perspectives.
Listening to her mix of anger and amusement as she rambled on, Cen Sen suddenly turned his head and said earnestly, "I’m sorry."
The curtains in the room were drawn open. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the winter night sky was ink-black and clear, dotted with a rare few quiet stars.
Cen Sen pulled her into his arms, his slender fingers threading through her soft hair. His voice, softened by the lingering dampness of her hair, carried more tenderness than usual. "I made you suffer this time. I promise it won’t happen again."
Ji Mingshu’s nose suddenly stung. Though she would have preferred to hear "I love you" from Cen Sen rather than "I’m sorry," his apology instantly stirred up the grievances she had buried deep inside.
The chilling fear and icy dread she felt last night couldn’t simply vanish after a night’s sleep.
She wasn’t a celebrity or an influencer who relied on the adoration of fans and netizens to make a living, nor had she committed any unforgivable, heinous acts. Why should she be expected to have a heart strong enough to endure baseless curses and slander from others?
She refused to brush it off with phrases like "I’m fine," "I’m okay," or "I don’t blame you." It was clearly his fault!At this thought, Ji Mingshu bit his neck fiercely, then followed his lead and declared righteously:
"I’ve been so wronged!"
"That third-rate fan even photoshopped a memorial photo of me! Do you know how ugly it turned out? Oh, and that fan was quite logical—probably thinking someone as young as me wouldn’t die so easily, so they photoshopped wrinkles and white hair onto me in the memorial photo! I’m so angry!"
"And it’s all your fault! You’re the classic type who apologizes sincerely but never changes. No, you have to make it up to me today!"
"Alright, I’ll make it up to you."
Ji Mingshu refused to let it go. "How are you going to make it up? I want a plan right now, quick, quick, quick—don’t even think about brushing it off!"
Cen Sen thought for a moment. "How about opening an interior design studio for you?"
"...Are you even human?"
"Making it up to me means throwing myself wholeheartedly into work to earn money and support the family?"
Ji Mingshu asked incredulously.
Had she overdone her independent persona before, making Cen Sen mistakenly think she really wanted to be a career woman???
Cen Sen paused briefly, then thought for another moment. "How about buying you an island? One where... you can see the Northern Lights."
Some time ago, he had met with Mr. Chang, another investor in the South Bay Project. Mr. Chang often talked about his wife and children and mentioned that he had recently bought a private island abroad for them. He planned to build a villa on the island and hire professionals to regularly maintain the beach, making it a quiet and pleasant getaway for future vacations.
Mr. Chang also said that if Cen Sen was interested, he could recommend reliable sellers. Some islands had excellent water quality and even offered views of the Milky Way and the Northern Lights.
At the time, Cen Sen had been briefly tempted, but with so many things going on, he had forgotten about it. Now, bringing it up as compensation, he wasn’t sure if Ji Mingshu would be satisfied.
Admittedly, not all women are blinded by the pursuit of extreme luxury—money, jewelry, yachts, private jets, or private islands—but Ji Mingshu was.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she happily agreed, "Yes," and her attitude did a complete one-eighty.
Just moments ago, she had been aggressive, almost shoving her face into Cen Sen’s, but now she nestled gently into his arms, massaging his shoulders with sparkling eyes. She couldn’t help but excitedly ask about the island’s specific location, its size, whether she could name it herself, the duration of the property rights, how convenient it would be for hosting parties, and whether it would be too cold to see the Northern Lights...
Cen Sen was also a highly efficient person. Seeing Ji Mingshu’s interest, he contacted Zhou Jiaheng to handle the matter.
Zhou Jiaheng had messed up twice in a row, and since returning to the country, he hadn’t heard how Cen Sen planned to deal with him. He was anxiously wondering whether he could still keep his job.
Now that work had come his way, Zhou Jiaheng suddenly perked up. He jolted out of bed, didn’t even put on his shoes, and sat in front of the computer with shining eyes, making call after call to get things done.
After all, the workplace is like a battlefield. Although he usually followed Cen Sen closely, appearing as the top confidant by the CEO’s side, the competition for positions was fierce. With so many assistants in the Chief Assistant Office eyeing his role, they were all hoping he would fall sooner so they could take his place!Thinking about soon having her own little island, Ji Mingshu smiled happily and immediately ran to the group chat to inform Jiang Chun and Gu Kaiyang, telling them to address her as the "Aurora Island Master" from now on.
The two of them were surprisingly in sync, both typing "crazy" at the same time.
Jiang Chun even complained resentfully: 【Can you check what time it is? Disturbing someone's sweet dreams will get you thrown in a pig cage.】
Ji Mingshu: 【It's not even midnight yet, what are you sleeping for? Eat, sleep, sleep, eat—calling you a goose is an insult to geese. Prepare the pig cage for yourself.】
Fully focused on typing, Ji Mingshu chatted with the intensity of someone going for first blood in a game. Cen Sen couldn't get a word in, so he glanced at his own phone.
At this hour, their childhood friends' group was still lively. Jiang Che was asking what he could give his girlfriend to make her happy, since the New Year was approaching.
Cen Sen: 【Jewelry, a yacht, an island.】
Having just succeeded in coaxing someone, he was kindly sharing his experience.
But Jiang Che wasn't appreciative.
Jiang Che: 【How can you be so vulgar? Can't you be a bit more creative?】
Shu Yang: 【?】
Shu Yang: 【I like Brother Sen's kind of vulgarity.】
Zhao Yang: 【It depends on the type of woman. It's like performing surgery—how can you generalize? This trick might work on Xiao Shu, but definitely not on Xiao Youyu. For a girl with a bit of stubbornness like her, you can't talk about money, and there's no need to talk about creativity—you have to talk about sincerity. Am I right, President Jiang?】
Jiang Che: 【Mm.】
Jiang Che: 【Before we were dating, I gave her a necklace once, and she felt like I was insulting her.】
Cen Sen: 【...】
He put down his phone and glanced at Ji Mingshu, who was happily sharing her island master status, and suddenly felt that his luck was pretty good.
After pondering for a moment, he assigned Zhou Jiaheng another task: to search for expensive and rare things in his spare time, just in case.
Zhou Jiaheng radiated the human glow of "work makes me happy," repeatedly agreeing and even jotting down "naming rights for a minor planet" in his expensive-and-rare memo, something he had heard about just two days earlier.
In the blink of an eye, it was Minor New Year. In the capital's deep winter, the snow fell even heavier.
During this season, the Forbidden City's red walls and white snow were full of ancient charm. Ji Mingshu didn't like joining the crowds for photos, so she went with Old Master Cen, Cen Old Madam, and Cen Sen to spend a couple of days at the garden estate in the outskirts of Beijing where Cen Yuanchao was recuperating.
Cen Sen must have done something wrong, as he had been pulled aside by Cen Yuanchao for lectures over the past two days, each lasting at least half an hour. The voices were so loud that even while taking selfies on the snow-viewing corridor, she could hear them.
Cen Sen was now the one she held dear, and seeing him scolded like this made her feel a bit of heartache. She pretended not to hear, occasionally stepping in during Cen Yuanchao's most heated rants to deliver some rock sugar, snow pear, silver ear, and bird's nest soup.
Cen Yuanchao looked displeased but couldn't very well lose his temper with his daughter-in-law. Each time, he would wave his hand, telling the two of them to get out and stop being an eyesore!
Ji Mingshu whispered, "What did you do? Why is Dad so angry?"
"It's nothing," Cen Sen replied calmly, even brushing the snowflakes from her hair. "Work-related matters."
Ji Mingshu, of course, knew it was work-related; otherwise, he wouldn't have been going to the office every day so close to the New Year, nor would his phone have been constantly ringing at home, with his computer never turned off.
In truth, Ji Mingshu hadn't paid much attention to Cen Sen's work before—after all, even if she did, she wouldn't understand it.Ever since graduating from university, she had often heard both family and outsiders praise Cen Sen for his strong work abilities, his ambition, boldness, and resourcefulness... So she had always assumed that Cen Sen was invincible and all-powerful when it came to work.
But now, it seemed that might not be the case.
In the evening, Cen Sen still hadn’t returned. Ji Mingshu was in her room preparing New Year gifts for the elders and younger members of the Cen and Ji families. She was about to go ask Cen Old Madam whether Cen Yingshuang, who had gone to Germany with her team for research, would be back for the New Year. But before she reached Cen Old Madam’s room, she overheard Cen Yuanchao and Old Master Cen talking in the study.
Cen Yuanchao was in poor health, and unless he made a conscious effort to sound energetic, his voice always carried a hint of weakness.
"...Everything was already negotiated, yet he didn’t wait to sign the contract before coming back, letting Ah Yang snatch it away at the last moment. I really don’t understand what’s going through this child’s mind now!"
Old Master Cen, however, remained gentle. "Ah Sen knows what he’s doing. There’s no need for you to worry about him."
Cen Yuanchao fell silent, seemingly sighing. "Worrying is useless anyway. He’s too set in his ways, and I can’t control him anymore."
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