Chapter 34: Letting Go

At seven thirty in the evening, the black Mercedes van set off from Yunhai Road, merging onto the highway and racing through the night toward Zhanzhou.

Inside the vehicle, Antong sat quietly, gazing at the pet carrier and luggage bag at her feet, as though the whole situation were nothing but a dream. The sluggishness of thought brought on by her illness made her forget to ask for a reason; she simply packed a few belongings and followed Cheng Feng into the car. Everything stemmed from her inexplicable trust in Doctor Rong.

Leaning back against the seat, Antong closed her eyes, her face pale and fragile. Unfortunately, Cheng Feng was a talker. Though he seemed energetic, he raised his voice to stave off drowsiness on the long drive. "Miss An, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Antong replied softly, opening her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Catching her gaze in the rearview mirror, Cheng Feng offered an awkward smile. "It's nothing, really. You just look a bit tired. Should I put on some music?"

Antong agreed.

Immediately, the deafening beat of a club anthem filled the car, nearly blowing the roof off.

Without a word, Antong slipped on her headphones and pulled her hoodie over her head. She knew that long drives called for fast-paced music to relieve tension and fatigue; she wouldn't force others to accommodate her just because she wasn't feeling her best.

Two hours later, the car pulled into a highway service area.

"Miss An, why don't you get out and stretch your legs? There's only one stop along this road; we won't be stopping again for a while."

Antong gave a weary shake of her head, declining Cheng Feng's suggestion.

Seeing this, Cheng Feng stepped outside, smoked two cigarettes to keep awake, and reported their location to his employer. When he returned, he carried a bottle of hot soy milk and a slice of Black Forest cake.

"Miss An, they say this cake is delicious. Give it a try."

Antong glanced at the food in his hands, about to speak when he added, "Got it for free when I filled up the tank—no reason to waste it."

"Thank you..."

He handed her the cake and soy milk, then, with a touch of calculation, rubbed the back of his dry, rough hand and asked, "Miss An, do you have any hand cream?"

Antong placed the food on the fold-out table, biting her lip with a hint of embarrassment. "I don't use hand cream."

"Oh, it's fine. Just asking." Cheng Feng massaged his chapped skin, casting a sidelong glance toward the back seat and muttering, "Been working a lot lately—my hands are all peeling."

The implication was clear: if not for playing wingman for the two of them, he wouldn't be spending his days mopping and scrubbing.

But Antong, simple-minded as she was, took it as idle chat. She gave a polite smile, but didn’t respond.

Cheng Feng: "..."

He had spoken to no one.

...

It was past eleven at night when the van finally stopped at the foot of the Boya Hotel Apartments.

A recent rain had left Zhanzhou shrouded in a delicate mist. Puddles reflected the blurry city lights, and droplets of condensation clung to the car windows. Antong wiped the glass clear, gradually making out the figure of a man standing ahead.

He was tall and straight, dressed in a crisp, understated black suit. The interplay of corridor lights cast shifting shadows across his broad shoulders, softening the hard lines of his silhouette.

As the car door opened, Antong had not yet moved when Rong Shen descended the steps toward her. Even in the dimness, the short distance was enough for him to see her state clearly.

She looked worse for wear: her ponytail askew, messy hair clinging to her forehead, her eyes brimming with emotion—no longer pure black, but sunken and dull.

A strange pang of sympathy stirred in Rong Shen’s chest, softening his tone. “Was the journey tiring?”

Antong rose, steadying herself on the armrest and lifting the pet carrier. “I’m alright. Sorry to trouble you.”

No matter how long they’d known each other, she remained ever courteous and sincere, as if she’d never realized she could be more at ease with him.

Rong Shen took the pet carrier from her, passing it naturally to Cheng Feng. “It’s no trouble. How long do you plan to stay this time?”

They entered the apartment side by side. Antong glanced up at him. “When will you return to Hong Kong?”

“I’m not finished with things here.” His gaze was gentle as he inclined his head toward her. “If you’re not in a hurry, you can stay in Zhanzhou a bit longer. It’s been dry lately—good weather for clearing your mind.”

As he spoke, the elevator doors closed behind them.

A few steps behind, Cheng Feng found himself stranded outside, burdened with the luggage and pet carrier.

On the twenty-seventh floor, Rong Shen unlocked the door with a code and told Antong, “The code is 0527. If anything’s missing, ask Cheng Feng to get it for you.”

The apartment was a standard one-bedroom suite, with a grand floor-to-ceiling window opposite the entryway. The decor was warm, and by the window rested an inviting pumpkin-shaped lounge chair.

Antong stood in the center of the living room, looking at him with gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor Rong.”

With one hand in his pocket, Rong Shen nodded toward the bedroom. “It’s late. Get some rest. When you wake up tomorrow, come to 2702.”

2702—right next door.

After seeing him out, Antong hesitated and called after him, “Doctor Rong, if I stay here a few more days, will it disrupt your work?”

“Not at all.” He paused, the tailored suit making him look especially composed. “Go to sleep.”

A few minutes later, Cheng Feng delivered her bags and the pet carrier, lingering wistfully as he glanced at the puppy inside. “Miss An, I’m downstairs in 2602. If you need anything, just call my room.”

“Alright. Goodnight.”

...

That night, Antong slept dreamlessly. In the morning, she woke slowly to unfamiliar ceilings and translucent curtains—a reminder that she was far from the old house on Yunhai Road.

It was just after six. As she sat up, her puppy, An’an, began to whimper restlessly at the foot of the bed. Perhaps unsettled by the new environment, the little one bounced restlessly along the edge.

Antong got up, calmed the puppy, prepared its food and milk, and by six thirty, had dressed and stepped out the door.

In the lobby, she explained her purpose. The receptionist stared in confusion at the bank card Antong handed over, hesitating, “Um, Miss An, your room was paid for yesterday.”

Without suspicion, Antong replied, “Please extend it for three more days.”

“Your room is prepaid for half a month,” the receptionist checked the system. “If you plan to stay longer, I suggest you switch to a monthly rate for a discount.”

At those words, Antong withdrew her card. She knew Doctor Rong would cover her room, but paying for half a month up front was unexpected.

She inquired after the room rates, then returned upstairs and sat dazed in the lounge chair, eventually drifting off to sleep again.

She awoke to find it nearly nine o’clock.

After a simple shower, she picked up her phone and saw a WeChat message on the screen.

Rong Jiu: Come over for breakfast when you’re ready.

The message had been sent twenty minutes earlier.

Antong replied that she was on her way, quickly dried her hair, tied her ponytail, and prepared to leave. However, her puppy, unused to the surroundings, followed at her heels and darted out as soon as the door opened.

“An’an, don’t run off…”

She called softly down the corridor, but the little thing seemed to have caught a familiar scent, trotting straight into room 2702.

The door was ajar. Antong knocked politely before entering.

“Come in,” came his low, magnetic voice.

Stepping inside, she looked up and immediately saw his tall figure—and An’an nuzzling affectionately at his legs.

“Good morning, Doctor Rong.”

He turned from the window, his profile softened by the morning light. “Have a seat.”

Taking her place on the armchair, Antong noticed the breakfast on the table, still covered—a sign it had been delivered some time ago.

“She’s grown a lot,” Rong Shen remarked, sitting down and watching the puppy at his feet with a gentle smile.

Antong watched quietly. She could sense that even the puppy liked him.

She said nothing, uncertain how to break the silence. In the half month without his steady guidance, she had grown reticent again.

“Have you been experiencing emotional detachment lately?”

Rong Shen spoke with quiet understanding, lifting the lid from the breakfast tray and gesturing for her to eat.

The meal was a delicate western spread, its aroma mingling with the cool scent of his aftershave—oddly comforting.

Antong sipped her milk and answered honestly, “Yes. For about half an hour yesterday afternoon.”

“Were you overthinking because of the assessment results?”

She lowered her gaze. “Not entirely.”

His deep eyes lingered on her, and his voice was low and reassuring. “I’ve been busy lately, and neglected your care—”

Antong shook her head, cutting him off. “No, it’s just me. I can’t get past it.”

“What exactly is troubling you? Tell me.”

She didn’t hesitate long, choosing her words carefully as she shared the root of her anxiety.

At last, gripping her chopsticks tightly, she looked straight at him. “Doctor Rong, if I want to leave Hong Kong, does that mean I’m running away from reality?”

She felt deeply attached to Hong Kong, but now that attachment weighed on her like a burden. If she moved somewhere no one knew her, perhaps the endless speculation about the An family’s past would finally stop.

“Of course not.” With elegant movements, he folded his sleeves and pushed the plate of eggs toward her. “A change of environment suits your current situation. When you recover, you can always go back. For you, leaving now isn’t escape—it’s self-preservation.”

These words, gentle and matter-of-fact, dispelled Antong’s doubts in an instant.

She bowed her head, eyes red, and whispered, “I understand.”

The melancholy and confusion that had built up inside her for days vanished in the light of his guidance.

No one had ever told her that leaving could also be an act of self-fulfillment.

“If you’re considering leaving…” Rong Shen noticed the slight tremble in her voice, and, unwilling to press her further, asked directly, “Would you like to live in Zhanzhou?”