Chapter 30: Formalism
Club... Blind date... Upon hearing these two words, the man raised his thick brows imperceptibly. “Which club?”
An Tong pretended to sip her tea to moisten her lips and replied, “Here, Cloud Peak No. 177.”
Rong Shen said nothing, his expression growing more inscrutable.
The matter of the blind date had started just a few minutes prior.
At that time, An Tong, not wanting the atmosphere to become awkward, had chatted casually with Cheng Feng. She had merely asked in passing why Dr. Rong frequented the club, and Cheng Feng had launched into an endless explanation.
During his rambling, he happened to spot Wen Wan outside the window and shifted the topic to how Dr. Rong was pressured by his family to get married, forced into endless blind dates, and generally suffered a great deal of trouble.
An Tong suspected he was exaggerating.
Yet Cheng Feng’s earnest expression—so sincere, as if he personally empathized—made her waver in her perception.
After all, it was Dr. Rong’s family affair. Once An Tong had spoken, she regretted it immediately.
She took the initiative to refill the man’s tea, gently saying, “Cheng Feng might have been joking with me on purpose, please don’t mind him…”
The man tapped the table with his knuckles in thanks. As he raised his cup, his lips curled with ambiguous meaning. “It’s not exactly a joke.”
An Tong froze, holding the small teapot.
The atmosphere solidified for a few seconds. An Tong hesitated, opening her mouth but unsure what to say.
At this moment, Rong Shen took the teapot from her hand, his sharply defined features softened by a gentle smile. “What’s wrong, did I scare you?”
An Tong lowered her arm, hesitantly shaking her head. “No, just surprised that you’d need... a blind date.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Faced with his inquiry, An Tong had no answer.
Perhaps because their doctor-patient relationship had always been excellent, she’d built a strong filter for Dr. Rong.
In character and bearing, she believed him truly exceptional—how could he be forced into blind dates?
Maybe that’s the way of family affairs.
Seeing her silent for a long while, Rong Shen took a slow sip of tea and delved deeper. “The elders’ views differ from the younger generation; most of the time, you can’t do as you wish.”
Now, the sympathy in An Tong’s eyes deepened.
She hadn’t expected that such a dignified and elegant gentleman-teacher would have so many troubles unknown to others.
Watching his composed manner, An Tong spoke directly, “You... should try not to dwell on it.”
She lacked experience in such matters, and besides a pale comfort, could offer little practical help or advice.
Rong Shen put down his teacup, laughing softly, “That’s all one can do.”
“Uh…” Seeing the melancholy between his brows, An Tong couldn’t bear it and blurted out, “Is there anything I can do to help? Though I don’t have many friends, I do know some who are about your age.”
The first person An Tong thought of was Su Ji.
The man pursed his thin lips, watching her earnest and serious face, unable to suppress amusement.
After a moment, he leaned back in his chair, an unusual emotion flickering in his deep eyes. “So you’re eager to play matchmaker for me?”
An Tong considered it and answered honestly, “No, Cheng Feng said your family is pressuring you so much that you had to escape to work in Zhanzhou. If there’s a way to satisfy both sides, maybe you wouldn’t have to leave.”
Pressured into marriage?
Escaped?
Well done, Cheng Feng.
The man narrowed his eyes, gazing out the window, his voice layered with meaning. “A solution that satisfies everyone would be ideal.”
An Tong, rarely stirred to emotion, even felt a touch of relief.
At last, it wasn’t only Dr. Rong helping her out of her troubles; she, too, could offer him something in return.
“Dr. Rong, should I say hello to her, maybe you two…”
“No need. Whether I marry or not, Zhanzhou is inevitable.” Rong Shen interrupted her with a subtle look, raising his hand slowly. “The real issue is, I need a wife in name, not an endless stream of blind dates.”
An Tong didn’t understand.
Romantic matters were a blank spot for her. Especially the phrase “wife in name”—it sounded strange, contrary to her understanding.
“Why a wife in name?” An Tong asked her confusion directly, pondering and furrowing her brow. “Is it just for appearances?”
The young woman was indeed clever and forthright.
The man’s lips quirked, but he didn’t answer, as if deliberately leaving her in suspense. He stood up slowly. “Come, let me show you the theater next door.”
An Tong frowned lightly, perplexed.
She could tell Dr. Rong didn’t want to talk further, but once a question arose, without a clear answer, it gnawed at her mind like weeds, always seeking clarity.
Following him out of the lounge, An Tong mused: if Dr. Rong only needed a marriage for appearances, she absolutely couldn’t introduce Su Ji to him.
Su Ji couldn’t be someone’s shield; she deserved better.
...
At the same time, Archie, tall and broad-shouldered, arrived at the guest room in the front courtyard.
Upon entering, he saw Lady Rong standing by the window, her hands behind her back, the rhythm of her fingers on the prayer beads unusually quick, betraying her heavy thoughts.
Archie closed the door and approached her, reporting methodically, “Madam, Miss Wen has returned to the living room. She just met Miss An…”
He then recounted the details of their meeting.
Lady Rong’s wrinkled face showed deep irritation. “Where’s Xiao Jiu?”
“Ninth Master is still in the back courtyard.”
Lady Rong sighed, rubbing her brow. “Withdraw all the people monitoring Xiao Jiu back to the main house.”
Archie nodded, hesitating before speaking again. “Madam, do you really think Miss Wen is suitable for Ninth Master?”
“Can you tell if she is?”
Archie bowed slightly, explaining with an awkward smile, “Miss Wen is too timid around Ninth Master, and after chatting with Cheng Feng, it seems you brought Miss Wen to Cloud Peak today without warning, which displeased Ninth Master.”
Lady Rong suddenly clenched her prayer beads. “Are you suggesting I meddled too much?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” As her trusted aide, Archie had long held back his words, but now couldn’t help speaking. “I just think… Ninth Master is not like the other young masters in the family. With his depth and skill, continued pressure from you might backfire.”
Hearing this, Lady Rong gazed out the window in silence for a long time. “Depth doesn’t guarantee success. Xiao Jiu is always alone in Rong Group, isolated and unsupported. His useless parents are of no help…”
She paused, her voice weary. “His father was once my favored successor, but insisted on marrying an actress from the entertainment world. See what happened: he was expelled from Rong Group, lost all chances to recover.”
“But Ninth Master isn’t Old Third,” Archie interjected, “and besides, from what I see, Miss An isn’t necessarily inferior to Miss Wen.”
“Not inferior is best. If Xiao Jiu wants to secure his place in Rong Group, family alliances are essential; otherwise, he may repeat his father’s mistakes. As for Wen Wan, she’s not irreplaceable. I just fear this An Tong, whose origins are unclear, won’t be much help to Xiao Jiu.”
Until today, Lady Rong had placed great hopes in Wen Wan.
As the premier socialite of Hong Kong, her family background and personal influence made her an excellent match for Xiao Jiu.
She had expected Wen Wan to use these advantages to firmly win Xiao Jiu’s heart, but instead, Wen Wan hesitated, indecisive, squandering the opportunity Lady Rong had created.
...
Before noon, word spread that Lady Rong had departed with her retinue.
Outside the private theater, Rong Shen stood with one hand in his pocket, his handsome face composed. “Replace all the servants next time the old lady visits. Don’t let any unrelated people near the back courtyard.”
Butler Li understood at once: by “unrelated people,” he almost certainly meant Miss Wen and Lady Rong’s bodyguards.
Inside the theater, An Tong hugged a small bucket of popcorn, quietly watching an art film from the comfort of a massage chair.
The man was gone for quite a while, and soon the film finished.
An Tong set the popcorn aside, rubbing her eyes in mild fatigue.
The art film was understated yet inspiring—a perfect balm for the emotions.
But An Tong’s mind was elsewhere, distracted by thoughts of a “wife in name.”
Her memory was excellent; the information she’d just searched on her phone continued to circle in her mind.
The search engine described “spouses in name” as those who don’t live together, each finding their own lovers, not interfering with each other, marrying only for the certificate.
An Tong was lost in thought and didn’t notice Rong Shen returning.
“Finished the movie?”
The man’s deep, magnetic voice came from beside her, startling An Tong. She turned, “What did you say?”
Rong Shen crossed his long legs, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. “Any plans for the afternoon?”
“No,” An Tong adjusted her posture, “I’ll probably go home and read.”
He glanced at the bucket of popcorn. “If you’re free, wait for the rain to stop before leaving. The library upstairs has books; after lunch you can check it out.”
An Tong blinked and replied softly, “Alright.”
From Dr. Rong’s tone, it seemed the rain wouldn’t let up soon.
Indeed, the autumn rain persisted, only clearing by dusk.
After the rain, the southeastern sky revealed two faint rainbows amid the clouds.
An Tong and Rong Shen sat in the business car, quickly departing from the rear courtyard of Cloud Peak No. 177.
After an autumn rain, the world is tinged with desolation and loneliness, easily affecting one’s mood.
For example, Cheng Feng, who drove with a gloomy face, his spirit wilted, his whole being radiating misery.
As they neared Yunhai Road, An Tong glanced sideways at the man bent over his phone and asked frankly, “Dr. Rong, do I have another treatment tomorrow?”
Rong Shen turned off his screen, but before he could answer, An Tong’s phone in her pocket abruptly vibrated.
She took it out, her expression shifting slightly.
In the quiet car, the vibration sounded unusually sharp.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Rong Shen eyed her with a playful glance, quickly noticing the incoming call had no name, just a string of eights.
They’d known each other for a long time, but it was the first time her phone rang in his presence.
An Tong pressed her lips, lifting the phone to her ear, and a languid voice sounded, “I must say, someone’s investigating you.”