Chapter 81: Holding Hands

"I can see it," An Tong tapped her own cheek with a fingertip. "Your face is all red."

To the man’s eyes, such gestures were merely innocent and endearing. Though Rong Shen had encountered countless women and their myriad ways, only An Tong, with her plain words and simple actions, could so easily stir his heart.

He closed his eyes with a sigh and shifted deeper into the sofa. "Come here, sit with me."

He made room at the edge of the sofa. After a moment's hesitation, An Tong asked softly, "Can you wait for me a bit?"

"What do you need to do?"

Rong Shen’s voice was particularly husky from the alcohol, his breath heavier than usual.

An Tong didn’t answer, but instead took the coat draped over the armchair and covered him with it. "Lie down first, I’ll be right back."

He didn’t stop her, his deep gaze following her movements.

In the hush of midnight, with a busy little girl suddenly flitting about, the emotions swelling within him surged like molten lava.

Why busy? Because An Tong went straight to the dining room.

Soon, the clatter of pots and utensils echoed from within.

In the bright kitchen, An Tong found an unopened jar of honey in the refrigerator and retrieved a lemon from the crisper.

She rarely cooked for herself, but on this night, with the man drunk, she wanted to make him a cup of honey lemon water to ease his hangover.

Beside the glass counter, her phone was playing a how-to video on making honey lemon water.

Following the instructions, An Tong sliced a few lemon wedges, then picked up the jar of honey and tried to open it.

Half a minute later, her hands ached from twisting, all in vain.

The lid was too tight. Even prying at it with the tip of a knife barely helped.

She pressed her lips together, set the honey jar on the cutting board, and drew out the sharp cleaver, ready to try something new.

"Planning to smash the jar for the honey?"

The sudden, low teasing voice startled An Tong so much she nearly dropped the knife.

Knife raised, she turned in surprise toward the kitchen door.

Rong Shen had arrived unnoticed, hands in his pockets, leaning lazily against the doorframe. His eyes, tinged with the haze of drink, smiled as they watched her.

An Tong quickly set the knife down and grumbled, a bit annoyed, "The lid’s too tight. I can’t open it."

He chuckled silently, stepped to her side, and effortlessly twisted the honey jar open.

Looking down at her, his eyes were gentle. "Don’t push yourself next time. If you can’t open it, just give it to me."

"Alright." An Tong reached for the jar, but accidentally brushed against his fingers.

The jar was cool, but his hand was remarkably warm.

She hurriedly let go, gripping the rim as she took the honey. "You should lie down. I’ll be quick."

"Why the sudden craving for honey water?"

Rong Shen didn’t leave the kitchen, but pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table.

With her back to him, An Tong scooped a spoonful of honey and said quietly, "It’s not for me. It’s honey lemon water for you, to help you sober up and sleep."

His deep, steady gaze lingered on her silhouette, unperturbed as if he’d always known, merely wanting to hear her say it aloud.

The next few minutes passed quietly in the kitchen.

Only An Tong’s less-than-skilled hands busied themselves, while Rong Shen sat nearby, watching her with distant, contemplative eyes.

When she set the honey lemon water on the table, she remarked, "I don’t know how to make hangover soup. The internet says honey lemon water works well for sobering up."

She looked up slightly, only to be caught off guard by Rong Shen’s focused gaze, her heart skipping a beat.

Perhaps the kitchen’s bright florescent lights were too harsh, and his overly attentive stare made her feel utterly exposed.

As if all her concealed thoughts had already been seen through by him.

An Tong nervously turned her face away, accidentally knocking a bowl and spilling drops of lemon water onto her finger.

Her hand paused in midair, stopped by a new warmth on her wrist.

Rong Shen stood and drew her to the sink, a faint smile in his deep voice. "Always so careless. Perhaps I should keep you out of the kitchen from now on."

It sounded like a joke, but carried a deeper meaning.

An Tong paid no heed to that, only seeing the man before her, standing by the sink, holding her scalded finger and gently rinsing it.

She’d never considered herself clumsy, and her occasional oversights were always trivial.

But whenever she met Dr. Rong, her self-perceptions unraveled in every gesture and word.

Each frantic misstep traced back to Dr. Rong alone.

Like an inescapable Murphy’s Law: the more she wanted to be perfect, the more things went awry.

Listlessly, An Tong stood beside him, secretly admiring his flawless profile, softly murmuring, "Dr. Rong, I like—"

His thumb, wet from the water, gently stroked her burned skin. Hearing her words, he turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

Only then did An Tong realize she’d spoken her heart aloud, especially in the face of his ink-dark gaze. She instantly shrank back, "I—I’ll wash it myself."

Rong Shen laughed and shook his head, finished rinsing her hand, then led her back to the table, carefully drying her fingers with a tissue. "Does it still hurt where you were burned?"

"No, it’s fine..." An Tong’s cheeks flushed, her eyes flickered with embarrassment. "Much better."

The water had been rinsed off, yet Dr. Rong still hadn’t let go of her hand.

Moreover... their palms pressed together, the intimacy sent tremors through her heart.

In front of such an experienced, enigmatic man, none of An Tong’s expressions escaped his keen scrutiny.

He wiped the water from her hand, finally releasing her. "Now can you come sit with me?"

An Tong nodded and reminded softly, "The honey water is cooling..."

"Alright, I’ll drink it now."

As Rong Shen turned, he naturally took her wrist in his hand.

Once he started, the gesture became ever more fluid.

An Tong was like a marionette, following him to their seats, breathing in his scent.

Even the acrid smell of alcohol seemed less unpleasant when it clung to Dr. Rong.

Sitting beside him, her thoughts raced until his distinctive, low voice sounded at her ear, "Did you drink with Yi Ke tonight?"

"Hmm?" An Tong was briefly confused, glanced at his handsome face as he drank, and explained, "No, I drank with my elder sister. She said cocktails weren’t strong and recommended I try."

Rong Shen’s lips curved slightly, his refined demeanor studying her. "You haven’t drunk before?"

"No." An Tong shook her head. "Tonight was the first time, but the cocktail tasted really good."

The air settled in silence for a few seconds.

He set down his spoon, pinched his temples, and probed gently, "I don’t usually see you chatting much with others, but tonight you seemed to have a good conversation with Yi Ke."

An Tong didn’t catch the undertones, responding calmly, "We haven’t seen each other in a long time, so we caught up a lot. Besides, Senior Yi isn’t exactly an outsider."

(End of chapter)