Chapter 42: Reaching Beyond One’s Station
That night, the moon hung hazily in the sky, and a sparse veil of mist enveloped the city above.
West Xiao Mountain, the Rong family estate.
In the rear courtyard’s inner chamber, two maids were applying heated pebbles to Madam Rong’s knees for therapy.
Before long, the bodyguard Archie strode in hurriedly, knocked, and leaned close to whisper something in her ear.
“Is that true?” The haze in Madam Rong’s eyes was pierced by a sharp gleam, her brows arching high in surprise.
Archie was about to reply, but Madam Rong raised her hand first. “No need to continue. You may leave.”
Once the maids departed, Archie solemnly nodded. “Absolutely true. I’ve confirmed it with Third Master Yi.”
Madam Rong fingered the prayer beads in her palm, murmuring pensively, “One truly cannot judge by appearances. She is actually a student of Sinberman...”
“Madam, years ago Miss Wen tried to apprentice under Sinberman and failed. It seems Miss Antong is indeed extraordinary.”
Archie’s praise drew a cold glance from Madam Rong. “Why didn’t you discover this earlier?”
“Uh…” Archie scratched his head. “Maybe because she’s not well-known in the field of piano performance. I only received the news this evening.”
Madam Rong found the timing too coincidental and pressed cautiously, “Where did you hear this?”
Archie had already prepared his answer and explained methodically, “This afternoon, someone saw Third Master Yi having lunch with Miss Antong in the CBD. I followed that lead and found out.”
Madam Rong’s sharp gaze fixed on Archie; seeing no change in his expression, she relaxed a little. “Did you ask Yi Ke about Antong’s family background?”
Archie nodded. “I did. Third Master Yi doesn’t know much, only said that Miss Antong comes from a very wealthy family, and one of her parents seems to be from a high-ranking official background. Also…”
Madam Rong, growing impatient, sharpened her tone. “Why did you stop?”
“From what Third Master Yi implied, the rank of Miss Antong’s parents might be so high that even we couldn’t hope to reach it…”
“What… did you say?”
No matter how much Madam Rong mulled over various possibilities, she had not anticipated this.
The Rong family, with a century’s foundation, had descendants spread across all walks of life, including those in positions of power and influence—undoubtedly one of the foremost families in Hong Kong.
With such connections and legacy, they still could not compare…
Madam Rong was by no means a frog at the bottom of a well; on the contrary, she had weathered many changes and both overt and covert family struggles, her vision and insight broad enough to grasp much of the world beyond her own gates.
If Yi Ke’s words were true, it explained why information about Antong’s parents had previously been unobtainable.
After all, the term “aristocrat” merely signified wealth and standing, but above that, there were gates unreachable by ordinary means.
Madam Rong fell into a long silence, her expressions shifting with her thoughts.
Archie waited calmly by her side, but inwardly he agreed ever more with her earlier statement: appearances can be deceiving.
...
The next day, Wednesday.
Wen Wan’s birthday banquet was held as scheduled at the Rong family’s equestrian club.
Many young heirs of prominent families came to offer congratulations. What seemed an ordinary gathering was, in truth, a stage for fame and fortune among the elite.
At ten in the morning, Madam Rong received word that Rong Shen would not attend the banquet.
Under usual circumstances, she might have flown into a rage, but after last night, she uncharacteristically chose to remain an observer.
At three-thirty that afternoon, the man who had cited busyness as his excuse for declining the invitation appeared at Antong’s doorstep as promised.
The old-fashioned double wooden doors opened slowly, and Anan ran to Rong Shen’s feet, circling around him.
Antong stood by the door, surprised to see the tall figure in the alley.
A long, knee-length black wool coat and finely tailored trousers lent him an air of refined elegance, with a touch of understated nobility. The only bright note was the crisp white shirt beneath.
It was the first time she’d seen Doctor Rong dressed this way, and Antong couldn’t help but glance a few more times before stepping aside. “Doctor Rong, please come in.”
Rong Shen stepped in, his deep gaze lingering briefly on her brows and eyes. “You look well.”
His calm, steady tone always carried gentle warmth, like a spring breeze. Antong hugged Anan and followed behind him. “It’s thanks to your guidance.”
Ahead, Rong Shen paused beside the grape trellis.
He turned slightly, lips pressed together, casting a helpless yet tolerant look at her. “A few days apart, and you’re already distant?”
Clearly a jest, but a faint, hard-to-define displeasure flickered in his eyes.
Antong instinctively hugged Anan tighter, earnestly explaining, “No, I just spoke too quickly…”
Her reaction amused Rong Shen, his thin lips curving into a soft smile. “Have you packed everything?”
Antong opened the door, looking back. “Yes, just one suitcase.”
They entered the study, Antong set down the puppy and poured him a cup of tea. “Are we moving to Zhanzhou this week?”
“Not so soon.” Rong Shen unbuttoned his coat, crossed his legs, and sat with relaxed composure. “Are you in a hurry?”
Antong coughed lightly to cover her embarrassment. “Not really, I just thought…” You were more impatient.
She didn’t finish the last words, fearing it would offend his gentlemanly pride.
Yesterday, Doctor Rong had reminded her on the phone to prepare her belongings, and Antong naturally assumed it was for moving.
“What did you think?” The man watched her with leisure.
Antong certainly wouldn’t tell the truth. She shook her head and changed the subject. “If we move at the end of the year, isn’t it too early for me to be packing?”
“Not too early. After we get the certificate, you’ll move in with me, and next month we’ll head to Zhanzhou.”
Rong Shen seamlessly picked up her thread, his tone and manner so natural as if devoid of any personal emotion.
Antong pondered a moment, then ventured, “When will we get the certificate?”
“If it’s convenient, tomorrow.”
Antong suddenly understood.
No wonder he asked her to pack; he intended for her to move in with him right after getting the certificate.
It seemed… perfectly reasonable, yet something felt oddly unsettling.
They were both in Hong Kong and had their own residences—was moving in together truly necessary?
At that moment, Rong Shen sipped his tea leisurely, raising his eyelids slightly. Seeing her lost in thought, he asked softly, “Is tomorrow inconvenient?”
“No.” Antong met Rong Shen’s gaze frankly and voiced her doubt. “Are we moving in together here in Hong Kong?”
Rong Shen stroked his teacup, his gaze deep and unreadable. “Do you not want to help me solve the problem?”
Oh, she understood.
Since it was a matter of formality, living together was essential to make the arrangement convincing.
Antong turned her face aside, muttering, “I want to help; I won’t go back on my word.”
This feeling of vacillating in front of Doctor Rong was unpleasant, as if her intellect had failed her, leaving her ignorant and clumsy.
With this mood, Antong pressed her lips and stood up. “You finish your tea; I’ll go get my luggage.”
Before he could speak, the young woman whisked herself out of the study like a gust of wind.
Antong was annoyed at herself. She’d resolved to help Doctor Rong through this ordeal, yet kept second-guessing and asking questions. If not for his patience and tolerance, she would have lost her nerve long ago.
Half an hour later, Cheng Feng carried the small suitcase in his left hand and Anan’s pet carrier in his right. The three of them left Yunhai Road and headed straight for Cloud Crest No. 177.
That evening, Antong moved into Cloud Crest, settled in a detached villa at the rear courtyard.
...
As dusk fell, Antong wandered aimlessly under the plane trees, accompanied by Cheng Feng. She glanced around with a puzzled expression. “Isn’t this a club?”
Cheng Feng’s eyes flickered; the lies he’d spun earlier now rebounded on him.
The Ninth Master clearly had no intention of explaining, merely tossing him a “handle it yourself” before retreating to the study.
Cheng Feng dared not be careless. After careful consideration, he devised a clever answer. “It used to be a club, but recently the business went under and the owner ran off. Ninth Master was a regular here, liked the environment, so he rented it.”
The closure had indeed been swift.
Antong looked around—every detail exuded exquisite craftsmanship. “Doctor Rong’s family must be quite well-off?”
So many buildings made up Cloud Crest No. 177. The monthly rent alone would start at six figures, not to mention he’d purchased a townhouse in Zhanzhou.
Antong had suspected long ago that the temperament and bearing of Doctor Rong could not be cultivated by an ordinary family.
Even as a psychological therapist, his elegance and nobility were surely the result of wealth’s refinement.
Cheng Feng’s answer confirmed Antong’s suspicion. “Yes, Ninth Master is a second-generation heir.”
Antong nodded in understanding; that explained it.
Cheng Feng lied with conviction—better to muddle through for now.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t quite a lie, more a modest understatement.
Ninth Master’s father was a magnate of considerable wealth.
...
Meanwhile, in the study, Rong Shen lit a tea-scented cigarette, then leisurely opened Antong’s transfer documents.
He’d returned in haste today, picking up the young woman from the airport and bringing her to Cloud Crest, never having had a chance to look at her academic records.
He leafed through Antong’s basic information with a calm, inscrutable expression. The father’s name was An Xianghuai, the mother was Xie Miaohua, and there was a younger brother, An Qi.
A simple family structure. Except for the empty profession field, nothing else hinted at hidden information.
Judging by the contents of this academic record, there was nothing remarkable to probe.
Just then, the phone on the desk vibrated.
Rong Shen put down the documents and answered.
On the other end, Yi Ke’s teasing voice came through. “Ninth Brother, you really have your ways—just skipped Wen Wan’s birthday party without a care, not giving anyone any face.”
Rong Shen took a drag of his cigarette, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs with lazy grace. “I had Cheng Feng attend on my behalf.”
“He gave a scarf, showed up briefly, then made an excuse to leave.”
Rong Shen’s lips curled indifferently. “Is that why you called?”
“Not only that.” Yi Ke grew serious. “Last night, your bodyguard Archie came to see me. As you instructed, I told him everything, and as for the effect, Ninth Brother, you’ll have to judge for yourself.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Yi Ke chuckled. “Don’t thank me—I didn’t do much. Besides, I only told the truth.”
The information he relayed to Archie was mostly accurate.
As for any embellishment, it was only the four words Ninth Brother had asked him to add:
—Out of reach.