Chapter 66: Don't Move
After dinner.
When Ruan Danling learned that Rong Shen intended to bring An Tong to stay at the lakeside villa, she was somewhat displeased. An Tong apologized and gently tried to comfort her, and only then did Ruan Danling’s expression gradually soften. “An’an, if Xiao Jiu doesn’t take good care of you, you can come back here anytime. The back lake isn’t far from here; come visit often when you have time, understand?”
“I understand, Auntie.”
Ruan Danling patted her slender shoulder and repeated her reminders. After saying good night, An Tong left the living room.
At the foot of the steps outside the door, Rong Shen stood against the light, a cigarette between his fingers as he spoke on the phone.
An Tong did not interrupt him, quietly waiting in place.
Meanwhile, behind them, a shadow furtively peeked out from behind the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window.
Seeing this, Rong Jinghuai pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed in exasperation. “Stop watching. Xiao Jiu knows what he’s doing. If you keep meddling, aren’t you afraid of making a fool of yourself?”
Ruan Danling ignored him, continuing to gaze at An Tong and Rong Shen under the corridor, mumbling to herself, “An’an is such a good child—quiet and sensible. The more I look, the more perfect she seems standing with Xiao Jiu.”
Rong Jinghuai gave a dry laugh. “It’s only their first day meeting. Aren’t you being too nice to An Tong?”
“Don’t you know the saying, ‘To love the house is to love the crow upon it’?” Ruan Danling let go of the curtain and walked back into the living room. “Can’t you see your son likes An’an?”
Rong Jinghuai raised an eyebrow. “Even Xiao Jiu hasn’t admitted it. How can you tell?”
“I don’t need his admission. He’s my own son—how could I not understand him? If he didn’t like her, would he have brought her all the way to Zhan Zhou? Xiao Jiu’s temperament is as cold as ice. If he doesn’t care for a girl, he won’t give her the time of day. Just look at how he treats An’an—it couldn’t be more obvious.”
Rong Jinghuai dared not argue. He poured some floral tea and handed it to Ruan Danling. “Even if Xiao Jiu likes her, it’s still between the two of them. You’re the elder—what does it look like, fussing over your daughter-in-law every day?”
Ruan Danling looked at the tea but did not take it; instead, she asked quietly, “Are you complaining about me?”
Rong Jinghuai found himself at a loss for words. He hurriedly set the cup down and went to sit beside her. “No, I’m just worried you’ll tire yourself out.”
Ruan Danling brushed his hand off her shoulder. “At least you know your place. If you dare complain about me, tomorrow I’ll take our son, our daughter, and all your fortune and remarry.”
Rong Jinghuai: “…”
He really couldn’t doubt her on this point.
Though Ruan Danling had retired from acting for many years after marriage, her fans still revered her as a legend of the silver screen.
What’s more, she had plenty of male fans, now all successful and accomplished men—one could never be too careful.
…
Night had deepened.
Rong Shen ended his call and turned slightly, glancing back. “Why aren’t you coming over?”
His eyes were dark and tranquil, yet through the night, he precisely caught the girl’s silhouette.
An Tong, a little surprised, stepped down to stand before him. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call.”
She had walked so lightly, making no sound at all, and had no idea when Doctor Rong had noticed her.
Tonight the weather was poor—no wind, and a slight chill. The garden lay silent on all sides, only the ground lights on either side illuminating their path home.
An Tong spoke little, following calmly at the man’s side, her gaze peacefully taking in the garden’s nightscape.
“How do you feel after spending a day here?” Rong Shen’s voice was low and magnetic, seeming even steadier and more agreeable in the night.
An Tong rubbed the corner of her eye. “It feels nice. Auntie… was very warm.”
In truth, she wanted to say Auntie was adorable.
But that word didn’t seem appropriate for an elder.
Yet the impression Ruan Danling left on An Tong was, without doubt, adorable.
Even with age, she still retained a woman’s innate warmth and sincerity.
It was clear at a glance—she was a woman cherished by affection and care.
“She is indeed warm,” the man smiled, glancing aside at An Tong in jest. “Did it trouble you?”
An Tong paused for a few seconds, then answered honestly, “Not troubled, no. I’m just a little unaccustomed—but I can adapt.”
Over the years she’d struggled with her mental illness, her temperament had changed drastically.
She used to resist contact with strangers, closing herself off and missing many chances to make friends.
Even knowing it wasn’t good, she felt powerless to change, as her condition relapsed again and again.
Everything had shifted with Doctor Rong’s arrival.
Whether him or those around him, each person had left a vivid impression upon her.
Cheng Feng, Ling Qi, Housekeeper Li, and Aunt Ruan were all the same.
Even An Tong herself hadn’t realized that, after spending so much time with Rong Shen, though she still wasn’t talkative, her emotional responses were far richer than before.
Her feelings now readily showed in her expression—smiles, frowns, disappointment, frustration…
Her emotions were no longer monotone; gradually, her joys and sorrows grew more vivid.
The man didn’t speak for a while, only watching her every move with those deep-set eyes.
A subtle tension lingered in the air.
Sensitive by nature, An Tong sensed something amiss and glanced at Rong Shen. “Did I say something wrong?”
Otherwise… why did Doctor Rong look at her like that?
He swallowed, looked away, and fixed his gaze ahead. “No, you spoke honestly—that’s good.”
An Tong frowned, stealing glances at his expression as they walked.
His sharply defined features didn’t look angry; if anything, he seemed suddenly preoccupied.
“Doctor Rong, do you… huh?”
Before she could finish, An Tong stumbled, letting out a soft cry as she steadied herself.
Her exclamation snapped Rong Shen back to his senses. He turned his head, unable to suppress a smile.
The girl’s hair had been caught by the low-hanging branch of an old tree.
An Tong forgot all about talking to him, reaching up with both hands to free herself, rolling her eyes upward in vain as her fingers only made it worse.
She couldn’t hold the awkward pose for long; soon her arms ached and fell to her sides, her hair now an even bigger tangled mess.
With a furrowed brow, An Tong stood there, her hair wild, hands stiff at her sides—unable to move, both embarrassed and annoyed.
Why didn’t anyone trim such a long branch?
Rong Shen, patient as ever, walked over, using his height advantage to survey the situation.
He lowered his gaze and smiled gently. “How did you get so careless?”
An Tong, brows drawn together, spoke with the faintest hint of resentment. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Don’t move.” He stepped closer, the gap between them shrinking to near intimacy in an instant.
An Tong stood frozen, ramrod straight, the world narrowing to that elegant swath of white before her eyes.
Even the scent of grass and trees was replaced by the fragrance of the man himself, leaving her faintly breathless.
Holding her breath, her lashes trembled ceaselessly, but no matter how she tried, all she could see was Doctor Rong’s white shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his strong chest.
(End of chapter)