Chapter 24: Subtle Intentions

The nanny van sped along the winding mountain road.

Wen Wan gazed at the beauty of West Xiao Mountain, a sigh slipping from her lips.

The driver, Yang Sui, was her assistant. Hearing the sigh, she chimed in, "Wan, if you truly wanted to go in, why didn't you ask Madam Rong to speak to Ninth Master just now?"

Wen Wan tugged at the slender belt around her waist and laughed softly, teasing, "What would I do inside? Cause trouble for Brother Nine?"

"I thought... you wanted to meet the girl Madam mentioned," Yang Sui ventured.

Wen Wan considered this, her eyes clear and bright as she sighed, "Our circle is so small. If Brother Nine wants us to meet her, sooner or later we’ll cross paths."

Through the rearview mirror, Yang Sui could see the melancholy hidden beneath Wen Wan's calm demeanor. She pondered and suggested, "Should I look into her background? Perhaps she’s just an ordinary friend, not what we imagine."

The car fell quiet for a moment before Wen Wan refused, "Let it be. She’s Brother Nine’s guest. If word gets out, it’ll make us seem scheming."

Yang Sui suppressed her thoughts, saying no more, only feeling regret for Wen Wan’s wholeheartedness.

Nowadays, the word "socialite" carries many derogatory labels.

Yet, since Wen Wan became the foremost socialite of Hong Kong at twenty, her beauty, temperament, and conduct have been flawless—a true lady of noble upbringing.

To many, she seemed without fault.

Except that her earnest heart was entrusted to the wrong person.

...

On the other side, Rong Shen had just stepped into the orchard when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He glanced at An Tong, who was strolling leisurely, and answered the call.

His deep, mellow voice carried across the fruit trees. An Tong had no intention of eavesdropping, but as she moved away, she caught a phrase: "Yes, keep watch for now. I’ll go myself next month."

She froze, a shadow passing over her quiet eyes.

Rong Shen hung up and sauntered over. In a few steps, he saw the young woman standing motionless beside a pomelo tree, lost in thought.

He walked to her side and spoke gently, "Do you like pomelos?"

An Tong remained silent, holding an empty basket, her mood utterly dispirited.

Rong Shen frowned, and after a moment, his thin lips pressed together.

It seemed the symptoms were resurfacing.

After a brief silence, he took the little basket and gently tapped her shoulder, trying to rouse her, "Don’t keep worries bottled up. You should learn to speak them out."

He could not deny a trace of guilt flickered in his heart at that moment.

Perhaps he was too hasty, and it triggered her emotional backlash.

Yet, just as his words faded, An Tong spoke softly, "Can I tell you?"

The girl spoke as she looked up at Rong Shen. Though her eyes lacked much light, they were not hollow or vacant as in her episodes.

"Of course," he replied, studying her closely and moving his hand away with composure. "Talking is also a way to vent."

An Tong stared at Rong Shen in silence, then dug out her bank card and handed it to him once more.

She said nothing, stubbornly maintaining eye contact.

In that gaze, Rong Shen seemed to read, "If you don’t charge me, I have no way to confide in you."

He lowered his eyes, unable to suppress a smile.

Some things needed no words; he could see through An Tong’s little schemes.

She wanted to bind him to long-term treatment by prepaying three months.

Her earlier behavior was likely intentional too.

Rong Shen’s lips curved upward, his hard features softening. "You insist I accept?"

An Tong nodded and offered the bank card again.

Unable to resist her stubbornness, his slender fingers took the card and casually slipped it into his suit pocket.

He smiled as he handed the basket back, tilting his chin toward the orchard. "Since you’re all right, go pick some fruit first."

An Tong pursed her lips and murmured assent, obediently turning to pick fruit.

This was why she could only accept Doctor Rong.

As a psychotherapist, he offered boundless tolerance and understanding, never probing a patient’s limits. His every gesture was graceful, guiding people gently out of their emotional dilemmas.

An Tong thought, if she ever agreed to change therapists, she might never find another Doctor Rong again.

...

Dusk approached.

An Tong and Rong Shen left the farm together.

On the way, she hesitated before voicing a question that had lingered in her heart: "Do you always choose different places for counseling? Why not use a fixed consultation room?"

He turned his head at her words, looking into her eyes brimming with curiosity, and smiled, "The purpose of counseling is to help patients rediscover and accept themselves. A single consultation room can restrict your senses and thoughts. Sometimes, being in a different environment brings different feelings."

An Tong nodded, half understanding, and gazed out the window, offering a candid remark, "Your counseling method is truly unique."

Rong Shen watched her, shrouded in the glow of sunset, his smile carrying a deeper meaning.

Back on Yunhai Road, Cheng Feng, carrying two bags of freshly picked fruit, volunteered as he got out, "Ninth Master, the fruit’s a bit heavy. I’ll help Miss An take it back."

Delivering fruit was only an excuse; he mainly wanted to see the dog.

An Tong had barely begun to refuse when Rong Shen nodded his assent, "Alright, go quickly and come back."

Cheng Feng agreed cheerfully and strode into the alley.

An Tong turned to bid farewell.

Rong Shen lounged lazily against the seatback, reminding her in a relaxed tone, "Go home. If you need anything, call me."

"Can I message you?" An Tong’s nature was straightforward, and her words came out bluntly. She frowned, trying to explain, "I mean—"

"As you wish," Rong Shen crossed his legs, exuding the restrained steadiness of a mature man. "If it’s urgent, best to call. You can leave a message on WeChat; I’ll reply when I see it."

An Tong glanced at Cheng Feng waiting in the alley and didn’t linger, "Alright, goodbye."

Back at the house, An Tong had just unlocked the double wooden doors when she heard An An’s whimpering from inside.

Cheng Feng stood in the yard, peering in, wanting to enter but worried it might be too forward.

Just then, An Tong stepped forward, then looked back, "Come in."

Cheng Feng immediately jogged over and placed the fruit on the table outside the window. At the same time, An Tong opened the door, and An An bounded out.

"This little one seems to have gained weight."

Cheng Feng bent down, examining An An with delight.

An Tong noticed his affection, picked up the chubby puppy, and handed it to him, "Would you like to hold her?"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Miss An." Cheng Feng was utterly thrilled, rubbing his hands before cradling An An, cuddling and stroking her like an infatuated fool.

Then, An Tong invited him to sit and discreetly probed, "Is Doctor Rong going to Zhan Zhou next week?"

Cheng Feng, entirely focused on the snow mastiff puppy, answered without thinking, "Yes, first Zhan Zhou, then Sui City. Ninth Master is really busy lately..."

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing he might have revealed Ninth Master’s schedule.

Cheng Feng looked at An Tong, pale-faced, the snow mastiff in his arms suddenly less appealing. "Miss An, how did you know Ninth Master is going to Zhan Zhou?"

"He told me."

Cheng Feng relaxed, realizing only Miss An received Ninth Master’s special treatment.

With that in mind, Cheng Feng no longer hid anything and told An Tong all of the man’s travel plans as if listing treasures.

In the end, he sighed, "Actually, Zhan Zhou has been urging him for a long time, but Ninth Master probably didn’t want to delay your treatment, so he hasn’t left yet."