That's how it is; there are many people, but it's very quiet.
Some things seem so distant, like they happened in the last century, that everyone tacitly keeps quiet about them, not because they're in the past, but because they'll never be in the past.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Zhou Jiaheng saw Cen Sen's brows furrowed slightly in the rearview mirror, indicating that he was not resting well. He took it upon himself to play a soft and soothing tune.
The traffic lights outside the window turned from red to green, and the dim yellow streetlights slanted across the half-open car window, creating a hazy, nostalgic glow.
Cen Sen felt a bit sleepy, something he hadn't done in a long time.
But for some reason, the image of Ji Mingshu singing in the bathtub suddenly popped into his mind again. Whenever he thought of that scene, those few lines of self-indulgent lyrics seemed to start playing in a 3D surround sound loop, just like a matching device.
His drowsiness vanished instantly. He rubbed his brow bone and gave a strange, slight smile.
As the night grew cool, Zhang Baoshu, standing at the entrance of Heyong Club, looked up at the gleaming silver facade and unconsciously tucked her arms in, shivering slightly.
She was temporarily drafted today to replace a well-known actress who had encountered an unexpected situation under her manager's management.
Her agent repeatedly told her to make the most of it, but before she left, he told her again, in a contradictory way, that if she couldn't speak well, she should speak less.
How can we seize the opportunity if we don't speak up? Zhang Baoshu was somewhat puzzled and confused.
It was not easy to get into He Yonghui, but with the young master Zhang's nod, the waitress in the cheongsam smiled and led her upstairs.
She gripped the bag's shoulder strap tightly, observing it with quiet curiosity.
Perhaps because the predecessor of He Yong Hui was a consulate, the interior decoration blends Chinese and Western styles, with small bridges and flowing water, as well as gramophones and oil paintings. Surprisingly, you don't feel out of place at all when you are inside.
The private room she was going to was on the third floor and had an elegant name: "A Dream of Nanke." Wealthy people often use such mysterious and cryptic names to show off their refined taste, which didn't surprise Zhang Baoshu.
The door to the private room was pushed open, revealing a spacious interior where the entire room could not be seen at a glance.
The first thing you see is a marble round table with an automatic rotating tray, adorned with exquisite tableware and vibrant fresh flowers. A half-screen partition separates the table from the interior, making the lighting dim and hazy, and you can occasionally hear conversations coming from inside.
Just as Zhang Baoshu approached, she heard a soft voice, tinged with a slight smile, "Young Master Zhang, you flatter me."
Young Master Zhang chuckled, "I'm not as good at remembering cards as you are."
A hand of cards that hadn't been played was placed face down on the table and shuffled together with the other cards.
Upon seeing Zhang Baoshu arrive, Young Master Zhang raised an eyebrow slightly, not taking her too seriously. While shuffling the cards, he casually instructed, "Light a cigarette for President Cen."
President Cen? Zhang Baoshu subconsciously looked around.
There were six men present, three sitting and three standing. The one standing didn't seem to be the main person. Among the men sitting, besides the young master Zhang she knew, there was another man who looked like a middle-aged leader, but he already had a female companion, a familiar face from a news anchor.
The remaining one...
When Zhang Baoshu saw his face clearly, she was suddenly stunned.
Isn't this the man who raised the price of Su Cheng's pearl necklace at the Zero Degree Banquet?
The name she remembered was Cen Sen.
Seeing that she didn't react for a while, Young Master Zhang frowned impatiently, "What are you still standing there for? Do you need to take a bath and burn incense before you can even light a cigarette?"
Zhang Baoshu snapped out of her daze and hurriedly bent down to pick up the cigarette box on the table. She had never seen this cigarette box before, and she couldn't open it or push it open.
Cen Sen turned his head, glanced at her briefly, and raised his hand to shield himself. "No need."
Zhang Baoshu was at a loss for what to do.
Young Master Zhang couldn't stand it any longer and pointed with his finger, "Add more wine."
"..."
Zhang Baoshu was a beat slow and passively reached for the liquor bottle.
She's usually quite clever, otherwise her agent wouldn't have given her the opportunity to rise to the top so quickly. But today, for some reason, she was inexplicably flustered and panicked.
The other two female companions looked at her with a hint of mockery. Zhang's female companion even deliberately chose this moment to show her understanding, raising her fingers to massage Zhang's temples, swirling them in circles. Her wine-red nails with silver sequins shimmered under the lights, making them particularly eye-catching.
While enjoying the services of the beautiful woman, Young Master Zhang skillfully cut and dealt the cards, lazily saying, "President Cen, this isn't my fault. I originally wanted to ask Xin Zhihui to come and keep you company, but her agent said her flight was delayed and she couldn't come back, so she insisted on sending me this young girl instead. She said she's a film academy student, just acted in some campus movie, and that she's pure and clever. No, how is she clever?"
He turned to Zhang Baoshu and asked, "What's your name again?"
"Zhang... Baoshu".
"Heh, we're from the same clan."
"Real name?"
Cen Sen, who hadn't said much, suddenly looked at her.
Zhang Baoshu shook her head, "Stage name."
What's your real name?
Zhang Baoshu was a little embarrassed and hesitated without saying a word.
Cen Sen didn't care. He looked away and then back at the cards, slowly adjusting the position of his hand.
His hands were slender and long, and the way he held the cards was like that of someone handling a work of art.
After hesitating for a moment, Zhang Baoshu answered softly, "My real name is Zhang Yanhong."
After saying that, her ears turned red, and she herself felt that the name was incredibly corny.
As expected, the female companions couldn't help but laugh when they heard it, and Young Master Zhang even directly complained that the name sounded like a maid from the last century.
Cen Sen didn't react that way, but simply said calmly, "Your real name is good. The name Bao Shu doesn't suit you."
Despite the extremely understated tone, those two words carried an added tenderness and charm. Zhang Baoshu was momentarily stunned, even forgetting to consider why the name didn't suit her.
In the latter half of the conversation, Zhang Baoshu couldn't understand or listen to what the men were saying. As if possessed, she felt itchy and inexplicably became bolder.
After pouring wine for Cen Sen, she obediently sat down next to him, occasionally handing him things as a gesture of assistance.
Young Master Zhang, who previously looked down on her, now gave her a look that said, "She's quite sensible."
Junyi has the initiative in developing supporting hotels for the western suburban scenic area.
After Cen Sen returned to China and took over the group, he made adjustments to the group's current and upcoming projects. For example, the hotel project in the western suburbs was considered a dispensable asset for the group, something that was neither worth keeping nor worth abandoning.
However, for Mr. Zhang and his team's project, the entry of well-known high-end hotel brands is indispensable for improving the service level and overall positioning of the scenic area.
That's why we're in this situation today, with one side trying to maintain the status quo and continue cooperating, while the other side waits patiently for concessions but remains silent.
After drinking and talking until late at night, Young Master Zhang couldn't get anything out of Cen Sen no matter how hard he tried. But the cooperation couldn't be stopped, so he had no choice but to back down again and again. In the end, he was left with nothing but his underwear and still had to thank the other party profusely—as if he were begging someone to make money from him.
Cen Sen and Director Yang, who had been helping to coordinate, had already left. Young Master Zhang loosened his tie, looking somewhat irritated.
Seeing Zhang Baoshu still hesitating, clutching her bag and unsure whether to follow Cen Sen, his anger flared even more. He gestured towards the door with his chin, "Come on, you idiot! What are you doing here, trying to act all virtuous?"
Zhang Baoshu was both angry and afraid, but she didn't dare to talk back. They were all surnamed Zhang, and she wasn't allowed to offend this particular "Zhang".
She jogged out and saw the car boy bending down to open the car door for Cen Sen.
"President Cen!"
She mustered her courage and shouted.
Cen Sen slightly raised his eyes.
Zhang Baoshu took a deep breath and strode forward in her high heels.
Stopping in front of Cen Sen, she gripped her bag strap tightly and asked shyly, "Mr. Cen, would it be convenient for you to give me a ride? I don't have a car... no, I don't own a car."
After saying that, she immediately added, "If it's inconvenient, that's okay. Then... can I add you on WeChat?"
Cen Sen chuckled softly.
Zhang Baoshu secretly raised her eyes, only to find that his gaze was fixed on her bag.
The bag was lent to her by her agent. It's a Chanel design from a couple of years ago, and the color and style are both very nice. Of course, the price is not something a newcomer like her can afford on a daily basis.
Cen Sen also has a vivid memory of the bag's color and style.
The night before their wedding, Ji Mingshu was carrying this bag.
When Ji Mingshu woke up that night, she saw him lying next to her. Enraged, she emptied the contents of her bag, put the bag over his head, and even pulled his head so that this pervert who had taken her virginity would explode on the spot.
"Mr. Cen?"
Zhang Baoshu asked again nervously, and even slightly shook her phone.
Cen Sen snapped out of his daze, his gaze lingering for a moment on the WeChat interface of her phone.
Zhang Baoshu, it turns out, is not that Shu.
He twirled the ring on his ring finger, his reminder quite direct: "I'm sorry, I'm already married."
Zhang Baoshu was slightly taken aback.
She had been watching him all night, so naturally she wouldn't miss the wedding ring on his hand. But for men in their circle, what did it matter whether they were married or not?
She subconsciously interpreted Cen Sen's reminder as a kind of unconventional suggestion. Although she was somewhat disappointed, it was also within her expectations.
After a moment of silence, she raised her chin and looked Cen Sen in the eye, thinking she had the courage to do so, and said bluntly, "I don't mind."
“I mind.” Cen Sen said without even thinking, “Doesn’t your school require academic scores for admission? With this level of comprehension, can you even understand the lines?”
Zhang Baoshu looked at him blankly.
Cen Sen got into the car and said slowly, "You can't compare to my wife in terms of looks, temperament, education, or background. Why don't you wash your face and wake up?"
Chapter 8
Ji Mingshu, far away at home, had no idea that her cheap husband would utter a word of praise for her in his lifetime.
She went to bed early, but forgot to adjust the humidifier before bed, so the room was a bit dry, and she woke up thirsty while she was sleeping.
She got up groggily, her eyes half-open, pushed open the door, and walked downstairs barefoot.
She usually lives in Bai Cui Tian Hua, where there is a refrigerator in her bedroom. It's very convenient; she can just get up to drink water at night.
Thinking of this, she cursed Cen Sen in her heart again. He didn't even ask her before shoving her back here, and then went out to socialize. He was simply doing nothing right.
Unfortunately, the true form of the scoundrel returned at that very moment.
However, Ji Mingshu was half asleep and incredibly thirsty, so she didn't notice him standing at the door when she went downstairs.
Cen Sen drank quite a bit that night and felt unwell when the party ended. However, he had strong self-control and remained calm and composed even when drunk, so no one could tell anything was wrong.
After changing his shoes in the entryway, Cen Sen tilted his head slightly and looked at the slender and graceful figure behind the central island.