Chapter 35: Willing
Antong gazed dreamily at the man, their eyes meeting—his held a candid sincerity. The word “willing” hovered at her lips, almost spoken. Yet Antong hesitated, afraid she might become a burden or a nuisance.
“Just follow your own heart,” Rong Shen murmured, lowering his gaze to spread a spoonful of jam onto a slice of bread. His voice was deep and distant, gentle yet resolute. “I suggested you come to Zhanzhou because I’m here as well. I can look after you, which is better than moving to some unfamiliar city.”
Antong watched as he placed the neatly jammed bread on her plate, his attentive care dissolving her lingering doubts. “If I come to you, will it be...”
“Come to me?” Rong Shen’s lips curled into a faint, elusive smile. “It’s not ‘coming to me’—‘mutual care’ is more fitting. Here in Zhanzhou, you needn’t worry about anyone else. You can do anything you wish—study or work—as you like.”
The possibilities were so enticing that Antong parted her lips, unable to voice her thoughts. Seeing her hesitation, Rong Shen patiently added, “Don’t worry about causing me trouble or inconvenience. As your therapist, offering advice and help is part of guiding you.”
Antong nodded decisively. “Doctor Rong, I’d like to come to Zhanzhou.”
The scales that had wavered finally tipped in Rong Shen’s favor.
...
After breakfast, Antong sat on the sofa, her gaze following the lively An’an as he darted about. The shadow between her brows had faded somewhat. With her decision to move to Zhanzhou, her mind was filled with hopeful visions of the future.
“After you move, do you want to go back to school or continue working?” Rong Shen carried over two cups of tea, handing one to her as he posed the question.
Antong accepted the cup, replying softly, “Can I... still study?”
“Why not?” Rong Shen settled into the armchair beside her, crossing his long legs casually. “Zhanzhou University is no less than Xiangjiang.”
Antong frowned thoughtfully. “I mean, I once took a leave of absence. If I move here and want to enroll, would I need to take the entrance exam again?”
Bending forward to set down his tea, Rong Shen smiled, patiently explaining, “It’s not so complicated. As long as you meet the transfer requirements and handle the paperwork, you can enroll directly.”
His presence radiated the maturity and restraint built from experience. No matter how uncertain her questions were, he never belittled them.
Antong turned her gaze aside, embarrassed. “I didn’t know you could transfer universities...”
She’d never considered it, so had never looked into the possibility.
“It’s not too late to learn. If you really want to study, in a couple of days I’ll have Cheng Feng take you to tour Zhanzhou’s universities. Once you pick the one you like, I’ll help with the transfer.”
Her eyes trembled as she looked at his face against the light—the word “guardian” sprang to mind.
He was like a patriarch, seeking a future for a wayward child.
Before she could voice her thanks, Rong Shen set aside his crossed legs and stood. “It’s still early; there’s no rush. Go put on a coat—I’ll take you out for a walk.”
...
Zhanzhou was beautiful; after the autumn rains, the mountains looked like galleries, the river like a belt.
A stone arch bridge spanned the Ming River. Antong and Rong Shen walked side by side onto the bridge, the sunlight reflecting off the water so brightly she had to squint.
Located in the south-central region, Zhanzhou differed from Xiangjiang. Even after the rain, the sun made the temperature comfortable.
As the breeze brushed past, Antong’s mind drifted from the scenery to the man beside her.
He seemed to have arranged everything for her, even taking on the transfer paperwork.
It made Antong feel as if she owed him a favor. Doctor Rong had given so much, and though she couldn’t repay him, she was always searching for ways to do something in return.
She turned slightly, watching the serene man at her side. “Have you... been going on blind dates lately?”
The sudden question made Rong Shen glance at her with amusement. “Still thinking of introducing your friend to me?”
“No...” Antong scratched her eyebrow, her voice uncertain. “I was just asking.”
Perhaps from guilt or some other reason, she tugged at her clothes and tapped her toes, fidgeting more than usual.
From a psychological perspective, her gestures revealed two traits—nervousness or insecurity.
Rong Shen, always perceptive, noticed her flickering gaze and anxious expression.
As for the cause of her nerves...
He withdrew his gaze and strolled forward calmly. “Is it just a question, or are you curious about my affairs?”
“It’s not about your affairs, I...” Antong protested earnestly, but halfway through, saw the man’s handsome face curved in a smile, teasing and playful.
She frowned in frustration, unable to defend herself.
If it wasn’t curiosity, what was it?
If she said it outright, would it seem she had ulterior motives?
At that moment, Rong Shen led her off the bridge, where on the left stood an old Cantonese dessert shop.
Under the awning out front, single tables sat waiting; the servers greeted guests with smiles.
Rong Shen invited Antong to sit, ordering several signature desserts and milk tea, then leisurely took out a cigarette case. “Since you’re not here for my affairs, do you have any thoughts or suggestions?”
Antong dared not meet his eyes, convinced he could see straight into her heart.
She asked, “You said you only need a wife in name—what does that mean?”
As her words faded, the lighter clicked, and the faint aroma of tea drifted across the table.
The atmosphere quieted for a moment...
Antong couldn’t help but steal a glance at Doctor Rong as he smoked.
He sat at the street side, the bustling snack street behind him, exhaling smoke in calm wisps.
He seemed perfectly at ease amidst the lively world, yet somehow untouched by it.
She couldn’t read the depths in his brow, only felt that “blind dates” insulted his gentlemanly grace.
Rong Shen took a drag, and after a moment, answered through the haze, “A nominal status, nothing substantial.”
Antong followed up, “You mean a marriage in form only?”
He lowered his gaze, enigmatic. “You could put it that way.”
Antong didn’t press further; just then the server brought their pastries and milk tea. She bit her straw, lost in thought.
She didn’t probe the reasons behind Doctor Rong’s arrangement.
Everyone has their own past, their own story. He must have his reasons.
Antong too pondered how to speak without seeming rash or presumptuous.
...
Time passed quietly; her milk tea was nearly finished, the pastries untouched.
“Don’t just drink your tea—try some salted egg pastry, it offsets the sweetness.”
Rong Shen stubbed his cigarette and pushed the pastry across.
Antong’s train of thought was interrupted; she looked up, swallowing a mouthful of tea pearls too hastily and inadvertently hiccupped.
It didn’t stop there.
She glanced at her tea, embarrassed, her words twice interrupted by hiccups.
Rong Shen watched with interest as the innocent girl across from him couldn’t stop hiccupping, and called for a bottle of water.
At that moment, Antong wanted to speak but didn’t dare open her mouth, feeling utterly mortified in front of Doctor Rong.
Soon, she took the bottle he’d opened for her, drinking a third in one breath.
Once she finally suppressed the hiccups, Rong Shen asked again, “So, after all this thinking, have you come up with any good solutions for me?”
Antong disliked her own indecisiveness, especially in front of Doctor Rong.
She trusted his integrity and character, so she decided to be straightforward. “If blind dates trouble you and you haven’t found the right person, then... I’m willing to help.”
His eyes were deep as the sea, unfathomable.
He didn’t speak, so Antong continued, “I researched the concept—I understand what a marriage in form means. You’ve helped me so many times, and I always wanted to repay you...”
She paused, then added carefully, “I really just want to help, nothing more.”
Her tone was earnest, with no flowery words, as if she’d thought it through.
Rong Shen’s ink-black eyes fixed on her for a long time, before he finally smiled. “It sounds like a good idea, but have you considered the consequences?”
Antong was clever; before making plans, she believed she’d thought things through.
“I’ve considered some,” she replied frankly, meeting his gaze. “Since it’s just a formality, it will end someday. Aside from the change in status, it won’t affect me much.”
Perhaps her answer missed the point, so Rong Shen gently reminded her, “Even for a marriage in form, you’ll need a marriage certificate.”
Antong nodded naturally. “I know—that’s what you need, right?”
She was still young, not realizing the deeper implications.
Rong Shen crossed his legs, his low voice tinged with an elusive smile. “You haven’t thought that when it ends, your marital status won’t be ‘single’ anymore, but ‘divorced.’”
Antong was taken aback—she hadn’t considered that.
But her pause lasted only a moment. She looked at him again, serene. “It doesn’t matter. In my situation, whether single or divorced, nothing really changes.”
“You’re not concerned about how a future boyfriend might see it?”
Though he was coaxing her step by step, he needed Antong to understand the risks.
Willingness was one thing; whether she could bear the consequences was another.
She was still young, and impulsiveness could cloud her judgment.
Rong Shen prided himself on not being overly gentle or forgiving, but he didn’t wish to deceive a girl barely in her twenties.
“You think... I could find a boyfriend?” Antong gazed at the distant Ming River, speaking lightly. “No one would like a girl who’s withdrawn and has psychological issues. I never thought about it. So your concern doesn’t really apply.”