Chapter 109: Social Interaction

Su Ji knew An Tong all too well; hearing no promise from her, she immediately raised her voice. “Are you just brushing me off?”

“I’m not,” An Tong replied, standing in front of the double bed with a silent sigh. “He won’t do anything reckless.”

The reasoning sounded rather dubious.

Su Ji even found herself with the odd impression: “If Rong Shen behaves, the little cabbage will hold her ground; but if he misbehaves, the little cabbage will toss her boundaries aside.”

Even after hanging up, Su Ji still didn’t get a straight answer from An Tong.

Inside the hospital room, Su Ji’s mother, Ji Shuhe, was receiving an IV drip. Noticing her daughter’s worried expression, she tried to comfort her. “You’re worrying over nothing. I’ve watched little An grow up—her head works better than yours. How could she not tell good from bad?”

Su Ji rolled her eyes as she put down her phone. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Leaning against the bed, Ji Shuhe spoke in a distant, nostalgic tone. “A daughter raised by Old An… won’t turn out badly.”

“I never said she was bad.” Su Ji gave an awkward laugh as she picked up the fruit plate and fed her mother a slice of apple. “She’s just young. If she ends up trusting the wrong person, I can’t just turn a blind eye, can I?”

Ji Shuhe glanced at her. “Little An is much smarter than you. Besides… I saw her the other day, and she looked so much better than she used to. If that psychologist can really help her, does it even matter if it’s real or not?”

Su Ji was left speechless. She turned to look out the window, hoping things weren’t as bad as she feared.

...

At seven o’clock in the evening, the bonfire festival began.

The group arrived at the gallery square. An Tong looked around, taking in the novelty of it all, and held tightly to Rong Shen’s hand.

There were plenty of tourists, but it wasn’t as crowded and noisy as a typical scenic spot. Most people were in groups or pairs, chatting and laughing together.

This event was quite unique; both ends of the square were decorated to create different festive atmospheres.

The Christmas setup and the ethnic bonfire festival seemed unrelated, yet the two cultures were cleverly blended into a single scene.

The left side of the beach area was adorned with ethnic ribbons and brimming with traditional foods, while on the right, beneath a Christmas tree studded with colored glass lanterns, there were piles of elegantly wrapped gifts.

In the center of the square stood the bonfire, waiting to be lit.

An Tong had never attended such an event before, so she couldn’t help but feel curious. Yet with so many people, a faint anxiety crept in—a familiar sense of social unease.

What’s more, someone here seemed to recognize Rong Shen. Earlier, as they passed through, someone had spotted him, looking both surprised and respectful as they called out, “Ninth Master Rong.”

An Tong followed closely beside the man, while Cheng Feng ran off to the ethnic area to sneak a taste of the local spirits, and Ling Qi obediently trailed behind them, appearing remarkably well-behaved.

But... that “well-behaved” demeanor was simply following orders.

Sure enough, within three minutes, a man and a woman approached from ahead. The middle-aged man had a large belly; his hair was meticulously styled, but he still gave off an oily impression.

“Ninth Master Rong, it’s been a long time,” he greeted.

At his side was a very young woman, a pairing that looked jarringly out of place. The girl’s gaze at Rong Shen was sharp and unpleasant, full of cunning and ill intent.

As the middle-aged man reached out his hand, his eyes flickered toward An Tong. “And this is...?”

“My wife,” Rong Shen announced calmly, then covertly cast a glance at Ling Qi.

Ling Qi caught his meaning, but before she could say a word, An Tong released Rong Shen’s hand on her own. “You go ahead; I’ll take a walk over there.”

Rong Shen angled his body to block the man’s view, gently ruffling An Tong’s hair as he whispered, “Don’t wander off in the crowd. Let Ling Qi go with you.”

“Alright, I know.”

An Tong nodded politely to the other party, then turned and left with Ling Qi.

The middle-aged man promptly patted his companion on the waist and said coolly, “Go look around on your own. I have a few words for Ninth Master.”

The girl hesitated a moment, but unwilling to offend her sponsor, she adjusted her flashy fur coat, struck a few poses, and sashayed away.

Once they were gone, the man produced a cigarette case, his manner obsequious yet nervous. “Didn’t expect you’d be married by now, Ninth Master.”

Rong Shen brushed aside the offered cigarette with one hand, his expression cool and lips barely curved. “You made quite the journey to Zhanzhou, Mr. Huang. Why not get to the point?”

The middle-aged man—addressed as Mr. Huang—stiffened for a moment before forcing a smile. “You flatter me, Ninth Master.”

“Is Old Six’s profit not enough for you, or have you suddenly decided to switch sides?” Rong Shen turned to face the Christmas tree, his tone casual.

At this, Mr. Huang steeled himself and leaned in to whisper, “Since you’ve seen through me, I won’t beat around the bush. I do have a favor to ask this time.”

Rong Shen simply looked at him, unconcerned. Mr. Huang let out a breath and continued, “You know the construction business has been tough these years. My small operation can’t take much more. If you’re interested, I can give you all of Mr. Rong Liu’s commercial plans for the next six months. In exchange, I hope you will—”

Rong Shen turned to look at him, a faint, ambiguous smile on his lips. “The commercial plans for the next six months?”

“That’s right.” Mr. Huang clenched his cigarette case, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I know some of your businesses overlap with his. And if you want to regain control of Rong Group Technology in Hong Kong, these plans might help.”

“If you’ve got such vital information, why are you still under his thumb?”

Mr. Huang’s gaze faltered—he had no answer.

Rong Shen shot him a sideways glance and nodded curtly. “Excuse me.”

“Ninth Master, aren’t you worried Sixth Master will keep expanding and carve out your share of the business?”

Rong Shen paused mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder. His voice dropped to a cold, deep register. “Go tell Old Six—if he’s truly capable of carving it up, he needn’t stand on ceremony with me.”

Mr. Huang broke out in a cold sweat.

This was nothing like what he’d expected.

Everyone said that among the current generation of the Rong family, most maintained only a façade of harmony, and infighting among brothers was commonplace.

Yet the low-key, mysterious Ninth Master Rong always managed to keep his own counsel.

Because of this, no one had ever managed to figure out what cards he truly held.

Some even sneered that his reputation for mystery was just a cover for lack of ability.

If he had any real backing, it was only his early independence—and the fact that his father, Rong Jinghuai, was the undisputed local king of Zhanzhou.

...

Elsewhere, An Tong wandered leisurely by the Christmas tree while Ling Qi chattered away, sharing gossip.

“So don’t be fooled by Mr. Huang’s sharp suit. No one knows how many mistresses he’s kept on the side. His character is a real problem.”

An Tong took it as light entertainment, but when she turned her head, she was surprised to see Mr. Huang’s companion walking toward them.

“Hi, I’m Lilia.”

The woman brushed her hair behind her ear and introduced herself with an English name.

An Tong and Ling Qi exchanged glances, neither of them expecting her to approach.

(End of chapter)