Chapter 47: The Lady

—I don’t want her to be without a mother too.

A simple, straightforward sentence, yet it stirred in Rong Shen a wave of indescribable unease.

The emotion surfaced suddenly, fleeting in his chest.

He didn’t resist it, but it felt unfamiliar and intense.

The man’s pupils contracted slightly; his deep gaze settled on An Tong’s face, as if he were trying to discern something.

“Doctor Rong?” An Tong couldn’t interpret the meaning behind his profound expression, and called out softly with a slight frown.

She had never seen Doctor Rong like this—there was a hazy sense of ambiguity between warmth and austerity, elusive and hard to grasp.

Rong Shen raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, suppressing his exposed emotions. Soon, he returned to his refined demeanor, as gentle as jade.

“It’s good to have the spirit of self-sacrifice, but you must distinguish what you can and cannot do.” The man spoke in a low voice, returning to the topic of donation, “Stem cell matching isn’t like ordinary blood donation; the success rate is very low. Besides, providing help isn’t confined to just this one way.”

An Tong straightened up. “What other ways are there?”

“If you trust me, just wait for a bit.” Rong Shen crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, composed and calm as he met her gaze. “The premise of helping others is not to wrong yourself. Right now… you’ve lost sight of the essentials.”

An Tong remained silent, lowering her head slowly like a student receiving instruction.

Seeing her reaction, the man’s smile deepened at the corners of his lips. “Realize you made a mistake?”

An Tong looked up and murmured, “Maybe… the method was wrong.”

Between the lines: the method was wrong, not me.

A low, husky laugh spilled softly from the man’s thin lips, inexplicably carrying a patient indulgence. “If you ever encounter something you’re unsure about, consult me first. Try not to make decisions on your own, alright?”

An Tong turned her face away, slightly embarrassed, and said she understood.

With Doctor Rong’s experience and subtlety, his level of perception made her feel outmatched.

The conversation reached a natural conclusion, and the topic of stem cell donation was laid to rest.

An Tong, mindful of the documents, took a sip of tea to moisten her throat and asked, “About the paperwork…”

Buzz-buzz—

Her phone, tucked in her pocket, rang at an inopportune moment.

An Tong glanced at the screen—it was a text message. She slipped it back into her pocket. “I…”

The vibration came again, several times in succession.

An Tong pulled out her phone once more, frowning as she reached to turn it off.

But the caller seemed to sense her intentions. Just as she was about to power down, the phone rang.

Rong Shen sipped his tea leisurely, neither urging nor questioning, watching with enigmatic interest the silent battle between her and the caller.

In the end, An Tong conceded, answering with a touch of impatience, “I’m busy.”

The man narrowed his eyes, a subtle ripple flickering in their depths.

An Tong’s nature was always gentle and melancholic; apart from her illness, her emotions rarely fluctuated.

Now, the caller easily stirred her mood—either he was familiar, or… special.

This thought flashed through Rong Shen’s mind, and his gaze grew deeper.

On the other end, the caller was none other than Shi Ye, who was intent on taking the emotional approach.

Through the receiver, Shi Ye’s voice was extremely tender. “Busy? Is it convenient to talk for a moment?”

An Tong gave Rong Shen an apologetic smile, then replied in a calm voice, “Not really.”

Her words, for some reason, sparked a silent speculation between the two men.

Meanwhile, An Tong herself was oblivious, ready to hang up.

Shi Ye, knowing An Tong’s resolute nature, pressed on regardless. “Don’t be too quick to hang up, I’ll be brief.”

Without waiting for her response, he launched into his own speech. “The end of the month is coming. The company is holding its annual meeting and fiscal report. You’re one of our pillars—missing it wouldn’t be right. I’ve sent you the details. When you have time, give me a call back. That’s all.”

Beep, beep, beep—

The call ended. An Tong moved the phone away from her ear, her expression one of utter bewilderment.

A baffling annual meeting, a baffling invitation, even a baffling gesture of goodwill.

An Tong shoved her phone back into her pocket, and promptly dismissed Shi Ye’s words, treating them as inconsequential.

“Encountering trouble?” Rong Shen noticed her peculiar expression and asked gently.

“No.” An Tong didn’t wish to discuss it further, nor did she see any reason to. “Can I see the documents now?”

The man observed her quietly, then opened the drawer beneath the tea table and retrieved a file. “Fill out the transfer application carefully. Once the process is completed next month, you’ll receive the admission notice.”

Such efficiency was surprising. An Tong gratefully accepted the papers with both hands. “I’ll fill them out now. Thank you, Doctor Rong.”

Each document was neatly labeled and indexed. She glanced through them and began to fill them out earnestly.

A moment later, An Tong tapped her pen against the form and looked up at Rong Shen. “After school starts, will I be a day student or live on campus?”

The man glanced at the documents, a faint smile playing at his lips. “There’s a section introducing the dorms at the end. Read it and we can discuss your thoughts.”

An Tong nodded and set aside the accommodation and day student options for now.

In five or six minutes, she began reviewing the details of dormitory life at Zhanzhou University of Science and Technology.

The four-person dorms were spacious, with beds above and desks below. The six- and eight-person rooms had bunk beds, and the larger groups meant more crowding.

At the end, An Tong looked across, her delicate brows furrowed. “The Computer Engineering major can only choose the eight-person dorm…”

She’d thought it was a matter of preference, but discovered it was fixed by major.

At this, Rong Shen seemed to read her thoughts, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. “You don’t want to live on campus?”

An Tong gripped her pen, hesitant and uncertain. “Do you think I should live on campus or be a day student?”

It wasn’t the accommodation she minded; it was the number of people, which made her draw back.

New to this environment, she wasn’t sure if her state of mind could quickly adapt to group life with seven others…

“For now, being a day student suits you better.” The man replied calmly and objectively. “Adjusting to a new environment takes time; it’s not wise to rush.”

An Tong felt her views aligned with Doctor Rong’s and immediately agreed, “Yes, you’re right.”

With that, she ticked the [Day Student] option.

…

Soon after, An Tong finished her conversation with the man and returned straight to the neighboring villa.

The door opened. An An bounded out, jumping and bouncing with exuberant delight.

An Tong picked up its plump little body and walked to the family theater on the second floor, switching on the surround sound system.

Soft, lingering music wafted from every corner. As she rubbed An An’s small head, her mood was unusually calm.

If life could always be this peaceful, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But peace was only temporary, after all.

Two mornings later, Housekeeper Li hurriedly knocked at the door, immediately urging An Tong, “Madam, the old lady will be here soon. Ninth Master asks that you change your clothes and meet him in the main hall.”

Housekeeper Li had suddenly changed the way he addressed her. An Tong, surprised, saw a look of impending crisis on his face.

Never mind who the old lady actually was.

That word, “Madam”—was it meant for her?