It had to be admitted that, at certain times, Ji Mingshu was a woman who knew how to adapt to the situation.
Inside the office, the blinds slowly descended. The harsh white light switched to a soft, warm yellow, casting the room in dim, ambiguous shadows.
From the direction of the desk came the rustle of clothes and documents falling to the floor, accompanied by suppressed, melodious moans.
Ji Mingshu sat on the desk, her hands clinging weakly to Cen Sen's shoulders. They slipped off several times, only to be placed back again.
Thinking of the people outside, she didn't dare make a sound. With tears welling in her eyes, she could only give Cen Sen's neck an aggrieved bite.
The black hair on Cen Sen's forehead was slightly damp. In the throes of passion, he would occasionally lean in and whisper things in Ji Mingshu's ear, his voice low and hoarse, thick with unbearable desire. Even his eyes were tinged with red.
Actually, Ji Mingshu's worries were a bit excessive. With the New Year approaching, most of the employees were already on holiday. The Junyi headquarters building was nearly empty, and the top-floor executive office was even more so. On top of that, Cen Sen had turned on the "Do Not Disturb" sign. Who would be blind enough to dare take half a step closer or eavesdrop in the slightest?
But still, with Ji Mingshu having been inside for several hours without coming out, the few assistants in the general assistant's office across the hall felt a little awkward. They looked at each other, and in each other's eyes, they could read the ultimate embarrassment: "Is it appropriate for us to be here while they're doing aerobic exercise in broad daylight?"
When others called to say that a document urgently needed President Cen's signature and approval, they would reply with a straight face, "President Cen is busy," while simultaneously being unable to stop their minds from imagining excessively intense scenes of his "busyness," which only made things more awkward.
At a little past seven in the evening, Cen Sen called the internal line and informed them in a deep voice that they could get off work. They couldn't wait to disappear, hastily packing their things and rushing out like a gust of wind.
Only after confirming multiple times that there was no one outside did Ji Mingshu dare to put on her sunglasses, pull up her collar, and follow behind Cen Sen in small steps.
Her posture was a little unnatural as she walked, as if she could collapse at any moment, and her knees were slightly red.
Perhaps they had had their fill of office play, because when they returned home that night, Cen Sen didn't torment her further. Ji Mingshu curled up in his arms and had a good, peaceful night's sleep.
The next day was New Year's Eve. After days of heavy snow, the heavens finally graced them with a smile.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen woke up very early to head to the Ji family's main residence.
The two of them stayed for the family reunion lunch. During the meal, Second Uncle Ji Rubai brought up the old topic again, launching a full-scale campaign to rush them into having a child after three years of marriage, centered on one core idea and two basic points.
"Second Uncle, I'm only twenty-five. What's your hurry? So many girls my age aren't even married yet; they're still in graduate school or looking for jobs," Ji Mingshu said coquettishly, putting down her chopsticks.
But Ji Rubai wasn't buying it, and his reasoning skills were particularly sharp. "Twenty-five, twenty-five, you'll be twenty-six after the New Year. Besides, you're not in graduate school or looking for a job, so what's the comparison? And anyway, does grad school or finding a job interfere with getting married and having kids? Sihuai, tell us, aren't there quite a few young women at your university who get married and have children while doing their master's?"
Ji Sihuai was Ji Mingshu's older cousin, who worked at a well-known university in the capital and had already been promoted to associate professor in his early thirties.
He smiled and replied, "There really are quite a few. Not just graduate students, but plenty of undergraduates too. Last year, a junior wanted me to be her advisor. I thought the girl was quick-witted and had good overall qualities, and I was thinking she could join my lab if she got accepted into the graduate program. But before she even finished her junior year, she went off to have a baby."
Ji Rubai listened with satisfaction, then shot Ji Mingshu a look that said, "See? What I said is politically correct."
Immediately after, Ji Rusong, her eldest uncle's wife, her second uncle's wife, and all her male cousins turned to look at her in unison, all wearing expressions that said, "Your Second Uncle is right."
Ji Mingshu held a mouthful of soup in her mouth, unable to swallow.
Fortunately, Cen Sen spoke up warmly, coming to her rescue. "Mingshu is still young. We can prepare and get our bodies ready first. It's not too late to have a child in a year or two."
After speaking, he lightly raised his wine glass and toasted her eldest and second uncles, as well as her cousins.
Since Cen Sen had said so, the others couldn't very well press the issue. After all, even if they nagged them at their home every day, they couldn't forcibly help the couple make a baby.
After finally dealing with the Ji family, they went to Nanqiao Hutong for dinner in the evening. The Cen family elders seemed to have coordinated with the Ji family elders. After just a few sentences, they began citing various examples to hint at the topic. When the couple didn't take the bait, they directly asked when they planned to have children.
However, the Cen family was better than the Ji family because Cen Yingshuang had rushed home for the New Year. As an older, unmarried woman, she was on the front lines of the elders' inquiries, taking a lot of bullets for Ji Mingshu.
After the New Year's Eve dinner, night had fallen. The television was on, broadcasting cheerful commercials. The main hall of the Cen family's pavilion was also filled with laughter and joy. After finishing their meal, the younger generation all slipped out of the hutong to retrieve fireworks from the trunks of their cars. On their way back to the courtyard house, they compared whose fireworks were newer and more high-end.
Ji Mingshu and Cen Sen stayed in the main hall, chatting with the elders for a while. When Ji Mingshu mentioned she was a bit full from dinner, Cen Sen offered to take her for a walk.
The adults all teased the young couple about how loving they were. Ji Mingshu, playing along for three parts and feeling genuinely sweet for seven, bantered coquettishly with the elders for a few moments before getting up and taking Cen Sen's arm to head outside.
The temperature on a winter night in the capital was very low, and puffs of white breath appeared in the air. The two of them strolled out along the narrow hutong alley.
The Ji family had actually lived in this hutong before, but they had moved out when she was in high school. More than a decade, almost two, had passed, yet this little alley seemed the same as it was in her childhood. The people were the same, and the road was the same.
Ji Mingshu saw a utility pole at the entrance of the alley and suddenly pointed, saying, "Do you still remember?"
Cen Sen looked at her.
"When we were little, my classmates and I used to play jump rope here. You know how you can unhook the elastic rope? We would often tie one end to this utility pole."
"Then one time, after we split into teams, we were short one person to hold the rope. You happened to be coming home from school, so I asked you to help."
"Do you remember how cold you were back then? You glanced at me with that chilly look, didn't even make a sound, and just went straight home. I was so angry at the time! My friends and I cursed you out for a good while!"
"Is that so?" Cen Sen thought for a moment. "I don't remember."
Ji Mingshu rolled her eyes at him, muttering to herself: There's a lot you don't remember.
She took the opportunity to properly rake Cen Sen over the coals. She listed all his past crimes: how she had sincerely tried to be good friends with him, only for him to coldly keep her at arm's length and constantly do rotten things.
Cen Sen listened attentively but remained quiet, because he truly didn't remember the things Ji Mingshu was talking about.
For the first two years after arriving at Nanqiao Hutong, he was still immersed in the world where he had An Father, An Mother, and a little sister, unable to pull himself away. Even at school, hearing classmates call his name would make him feel particularly resistant. He would always silently correct them in his heart: My name isn't Cen Sen, it's An Sen.
When his English teacher gently asked if he had an English name and offered to help him choose one if he didn't, he had unhesitatingly written "Anson" on the registration form. He even continued to use this English name to this day.
Although he didn't remember the things Ji Mingshu mentioned, he figured that back then, he hadn't trusted or cared about the entire world, so he probably wouldn't have been able to accept Ji Mingshu's goodwill, which clearly looked like it had an "ulterior motive."
However, listening to Ji Mingshu list his hundreds of childhood sins, Cen Sen suddenly remembered something Jiang Che had once said—
"Do you remember when you first came to Nanqiao Hutong as a kid? Ji Mingshu really liked you. She used to bring you little snacks every day."
...
"Of course she did. Back then, Shu Yang used to laugh at her all the time for fawning over your cold shoulder. He even said she was heartless for forgetting Cen Yang so quickly."
Cen Sen turned his head. "Jiang Che said that when I first came to Nanqiao Hutong as a kid, you liked me a lot."
Ji Mingshu, who was still chattering away, suddenly stopped. "Yeah, it was that kind of like, you know, the kind that comes from appreciating good looks?" Ji Mingshu didn't deny it, but she carefully explained.
"Did my looks decline?"
"...?"
"I don't think so, right? If you count as having your looks decline, then how are other people supposed to live?"
Ji Mingshu never skimped on praising Cen Sen's appearance; after all, it was also an affirmation of her own aesthetic taste. Even when they had just gotten married and she was the one picking fights, she would end it by tossing out a harsh line like, "For the sake of this face, I can't be bothered to argue with you!"
Cen Sen seemed to let out a small laugh, then asked, "So now, do you still have that kind of like for me that comes from appreciating good looks?"
"..."
Trying to trap someone with words like this should get you drowned in a pig cage!
The two had already reached the utility pole at the alley's entrance. Ji Mingshu's lips were pressed tightly together, and her disloyal little heart was thumping wildly, but she refused to answer.
A cold wind brushed their faces at the alley entrance. The streetlights on the long street cast a fragmented glow, illuminating the snowflakes that had suddenly started to fall again in the deep night, as well as the childish faces of children across the way, laughing and chasing each other while waving sparklers.
Just as Ji Mingshu was trying to figure out how to answer, Cen Sen suddenly hugged her from behind, wrapping her completely in his overcoat. His arms circled around from behind to embrace her waist. His lips pressed against the side of her ear, cool and moist, bringing a slight tickle.
Ji Mingshu's face grew hot, and she dodged slightly.
Speaking of which... this is a bit beyond the scope of a loving contractual couple, isn't it? Actually, the last few times have also been a bit...
She had been trying to restrain herself from overthinking it. For one, she was afraid that because she liked him, she was viewing his actions through a heavy filter. For another, she was afraid that if she asked, she would get an answer that would disappoint her.
But now, she could feel with great clarity that it probably wasn't just her overthinking things.
"Then, you answer me first."
"Hm?"
"Do you... do you like me?" After asking, she didn't pause, rushing to explain herself. "It's not that I'm narcissistic, it's just that lately, you've been... excessively good to me. So if you don't like me, it's still your fault, because you've created this kind of illusion for me, you know? Like before, because I came back from Paris early, you bought me this and that and..."
"You're only just realizing?"
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