Chapter 38: Xiao An
At noon, An Tong and Rong Shen found a noodle shop nearby for lunch.
This neighborhood, located on Huainan Road, was quite close to Camphor Apartment.
The man rinsed his cup, picked up the teapot, and glanced at An Tong, saying, “The apartment is just across the street. Next week, I’ll have Cheng Feng show you around, so you can get familiar with the area in advance.”
An Tong tried to politely decline his suggestion. “I can walk around by myself. If you ever need to go out…”
“Xiao An…” Rong Shen interrupted her with a smile in his tone, his lips gently curving.
Hearing this address, spoken in his deep, magnetic voice, An Tong instinctively fell silent.
Rong Shen rarely called her by name, let alone used the affectionate diminutive “Xiao An.” This near-nickname, spoken unintentionally, seemed to draw them closer, lessening the formal distance she always kept.
He looked at the young woman sitting across from him. After two days together, the shadows between her brows had faded considerably. Her eyes, now bright and spirited, reflected his own features clearly.
Their gazes met. Rong Shen lowered his eyes and took a sip of tea, his voice even more composed and mellow, “You don’t need to be so formal with me. From now on, just skip the honorifics.”
An Tong replied in surprise, “I’m not being formal…”
On the contrary, the greatest feeling she had in his presence was ease and comfort. No more overthinking, little to worry about, and no need to mask her emotions with a façade of calm.
Hearing her answer, the warmth in his eyes deepened. “If you’re not being formal, then don’t be polite either.”
After nearly two months together, An Tong’s honorifics had only increased. Perhaps she was simply too well-mannered, clinging to titles and formality. But every time she said “you” in the respectful way, it created an unbridgeable distance.
She seemed unable to sense that his patience could encompass her every word and action—tolerance would not be an overstatement.
Looking at the tea he placed before her, An Tong promised softly, “Alright, I’ll try my best to change.”
Rong Shen couldn’t help but smile, a trace of helplessness showing in his expression.
See, even when asked not to be formal, this young woman still treated him with the reverence reserved for a teacher or a parent.
…
After a simple lunch, the two walked to the nearby Camphor Residence across the street.
The entire complex covered a vast area, with excellent amenities and impressive landscaping within the community.
An Tong gazed at the tall, imposing brown marble columns at the entrance, where the gilded words “Camphor Mansion” were displayed.
No matter how she looked at it, from the supporting facilities to the elegant design, it hardly resembled an “apartment.”
By the time they reached Area A, she was even more convinced.
These were low-density, stacked villas.
Below Unit 1 of Building 7, the small garden out front was still cluttered with construction tools and piles of sifted sand.
An Tong glanced up at Rong Shen beside her, hesitating to speak.
Did Dr. Rong misunderstand the difference between an apartment and a villa?
While she hesitated, Cheng Feng, his face covered in dust, emerged from inside. “Sir, Miss An.”
Rong Shen peered through the garden’s floor-to-ceiling windows into the house. “How’s the progress?”
Cheng Feng deliberately patted the dust from his trousers, then brushed the sand from his sleeves. “We just finished painting the walls. The flooring goes in this afternoon. Another two or three days and we’ll be done.”
As he spoke, a tall man in work clothes strode over from the garden.
He stood beside Cheng Feng, towering and stern-faced, and greeted respectfully, “Sir.”
“Yuan Kai,” Rong Shen replied coolly, then turned to introduce him to An Tong.
An Tong nodded in greeting. “Hello.”
Yuan Kai was even more imposing than Cheng Feng, his sharp gaze resting on An Tong as he nodded. “Hello, Miss An.”
She said nothing more, instinctively sensing a certain fierceness in Yuan Kai, unlike the usual easygoing nature of regular laborers.
Standing beside Cheng Feng, the contrast between the two was stark—one cold and stern, the other cheerful and open.
“Sir, the place has been aired out. You can go inside anytime.” Yuan Kai’s tone was grave yet respectful as he stepped aside.
Rong Shen nodded forward, “Let’s take a look.”
Just as he’d said, the “apartment” was spread over two levels, with a uniquely crafted layout and décor.
Soon, Rong Shen handed An Tong the interior design renderings, reminding her in a low voice, “Choose whichever room you like. If you have any ideas for the furnishings, tell Yuan Kai directly—he’ll make the changes.”
“They’re all very nice,” she replied.
Though the work wasn’t finished, the sophistication of the renderings was already evident.
His gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds, full of meaning, before he put the plans down casually. “Which floor do you want?”
They chatted as they walked out, one after the other. Hiding at the stairwell corner, Cheng Feng nudged Yuan Kai’s arm. “Hey, what do you think of Miss An?”
Yuan Kai stamped his foot, pulling out a cigarette. “Beautiful—in that cool, aloof way.”
Cheng Feng was about to agree when Yuan Kai added, “But a little wooden.”
“Wooden, you say…” Cheng Feng shot him a sidelong glance. “Should I get you a mirror? You’re one to talk. Miss An is just reserved.”
Yuan Kai ignored the jab, continuing to observe An Tong through the window. “Sir seems to be the proactive one around Miss An.”
“You can tell?”
Yuan Kai nodded seriously. “Since they walked in, Sir has initiated conversation with her seven times.”
Cheng Feng snorted, casting him a cynical glance.
Chat if you want, but must you show off your powers of observation?
Yuan Kai, hearing no reply from Cheng Feng, turned his head. “Isn’t it so?”
“Yes, absolutely. Not only proactive—Sir’s practically moved Miss An into the rear courtyard at Cloud Summit. He might as well give her the master bedroom.”
Hearing this, Yuan Kai remarked earnestly, “Previously, when Miss Wen or other heiresses saw Sir, they were like foxes spotting a meal. Miss An is far more composed.”
Cheng Feng shook his head, at a loss for words, and picked up the iron shovel at his feet. “Stop with the profound insights and get to work. I must be cursed—how did a business elite like me end up a foreman on a construction site?”
…
Before three o’clock, An Tong and Rong Shen left Camphor Mansion by car.
A peaceful silence filled the car on the way back.
Outside, the sun was bright, its warmth making the cabin drowsy.
At a red light, Rong Shen stopped the car and glanced over—An Tong had fallen asleep, her head tilted.
There were still thirty seconds left on the light. As he waited, Rong Shen rested one hand on the steering wheel, quietly studying her sleeping face.
Her breathing was shallow—calm and serene.
In her features, a quiet strength was tempered by a softness and relaxation rarely seen in her usual reserved demeanor.
But her arms were curled protectively in front of her, her upper body slightly hunched—a posture betraying a lack of security.
He didn’t wake her. Once the car started again, he slowed his speed.
What would have been a thirty-minute drive took forty-five before they reached the Boya Hotel.
When An Tong awoke, she rubbed her eyes sleepily.
The streets outside looked familiar. Looking closely, she saw they’d arrived at the rear parking lot of the Boya Hotel.
She sat up straight at once. The driver’s seat was empty, but the crisp scent of Dr. Rong lingered in the air.
She undid her seatbelt, but stopped short when she caught sight of the figure through the windshield.
Ahead, that tall, lean silhouette stood with his back to her, talking on the phone.
One hand in his pocket, his posture was upright. In the sunlight, his white shirt seemed edged in gold.
An Tong didn’t rush to get out. She waited until he finished his call before slowly opening the door.
Having slept with her head tilted the whole way, her balance was off, and her left leg tingled with pins and needles.
“Sorry, Dr. Rong, I fell asleep. Why didn’t you wake me?”
Checking her phone, An Tong realized it was nearly four. She’d slept at least fifty minutes, and wondered how long Dr. Rong had waited outside.
At the sound of the car door, Rong Shen turned around, catching sight of her messy ponytail. He said nothing for a moment.
Her uncertainty grew under his silence. “What’s wrong?”
His lips pressed together, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “Did you forget what I said?”
An Tong shifted her left leg, then, as if just realizing, repeated herself, “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Not using honorifics was fine, but as soon as the words left her lips, she felt awkward and looked away.
Her tone was perfectly normal, yet somehow it sounded a little petulant.
That wasn’t what she meant…
A faint smile curled his lips as he strolled back toward the car. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
“I stayed up late,” An Tong explained, matching his pace. “I had a few part-time jobs to wrap up—didn’t sleep till three.”
He glanced at her, his black eyes fathomless. “It’s good to work hard, but mind the pace.”
“I will,” An Tong replied with a soft, decisive smile.
…
Over the next week, Rong Shen became busy, often leaving early and returning late, and they saw each other far less.
An Tong didn’t grow reliant on him. Instead, with Cheng Feng’s insistent company, she spent three or four days exploring the university district.
Cheng Feng was efficient as ever, not only providing lists of all the universities in Zhan Zhou, but also preparing detailed transfer requirements and program descriptions for each.
Soon, it was Friday. At four in the afternoon, An Tong sat in the business van, poring over the university brochures and scribbling notes.
Cheng Feng glanced at her, curiosity getting the better of him. “Xiao An, what was your score on the college entrance exam?”
After days of campus visits, they’d grown familiar enough that he now called her Xiao An instead of Miss An.
Of course, their boss didn’t know yet.
An Tong answered honestly, “Six hundred forty-five.”
Cheng Feng found the score acceptable, muttering, “If I’d taken the exam back then, I wouldn’t have scored lower.”
An awkward silence fell. Unsure how to respond, An Tong hesitated, then asked, “You never went to college?”
“I did,” Cheng Feng replied, waving his hand with feigned modesty. “I was admitted to Qingda on scholarship. But that’s all in the past, not worth mentioning.”
Just as he was waiting for her admiration, An Tong pursed her lips in regretful sympathy. “With such a good education, why are you a driver?”
Cheng Feng, chief assistant with a million-yuan salary: “???”
“No, I…”
He wanted to defend himself, but just then, An Tong’s phone rang.