Chapter 116: Stirred Emotions

The next day, An Tong woke up early to find the side of the bed already empty. The bedroom curtains were still drawn, and it was just past seven-thirty. She reached out to touch the sheets; they felt slightly cool, suggesting he had been gone for a while.

An Tong stretched, sat up while hugging the quilt, and began to curiously observe the man’s bedroom. The decor was standard, but the layout and color palette felt more understated and profound. The bedding was minimalist black and gray; the only deviation was the sky-blue pillow she had brought over herself. After a brief scan, she rolled out of bed, intending to return to her room to change.

Passing the walk-in closet to her left, she noticed the door was slightly ajar, with the light still on. Driven by a sudden impulse, An Tong glanced inside and couldn't help but freeze in her tracks. She told herself she should uphold the virtue of not peeking and turn away, but her legs felt as if they were filled with lead. The more she looked, the more pleasing the sight became, and she cast all restraint aside.

The old saying, "A fair lady is a gentleman’s delight," is just as applicable when the roles are reversed. At this moment, An Tong stood staring at the man in the closet as he put on his shirt. It was a mundane scene, revealing nothing intimate, yet the raw, powerful energy and the distinct definition of his muscles made it impossible for her to look away.

An Tong had always known Rong Shen to be a gentle, jade-like gentleman. His demeanor was consistently mild and magnanimous, which often masked the formidable presence he possessed. But here, in the walk-in closet, the man wore only his suit trousers, his upper body bare as he retrieved a crisp white shirt from the wardrobe. The musculature of his shoulders rippled with his movements; his broad shoulders and narrow waist formed a tall, perfect physique without a single flaw. Whether it was his lean frame or the tone of his skin, every inch exuded a potent, masculine vitality.

An Tong was so entranced that her throat felt dry, and she couldn't help but swallow. Moments later, Rong Shen pulled on his shirt. Before he could fasten the buttons, he seemed to sense something and turned his head toward the doorway. An Tong snapped back to reality, scrambled into her slippers, and fled.

Above his belt, six-pack abs. Even in that fleeting glance, the well-defined muscles were unmistakable. At that moment, the man’s thin lips curled slightly as he glared at the empty doorway, his eyes filled with hidden meaning. Rong Shen leisurely buttoned his shirt and straightened the hem in the dressing mirror. Had An Tong been there, she would have realized that the mirror offered a perfect view of the doorway behind him. From the very first second she had stood there peeking, every action of hers had been completely within his view.

***

Twenty minutes later, An Tong, now dressed, arrived in the living room. Her gaze swept the area, landing on his back as he smoked in the garden outside. She watched him quietly, the image from the closet impossible to shake from her mind. It was hard to imagine that such a robust and powerful physique was hidden beneath those simple shirts and suit trousers.

On the other side, Rong Shen stubbed out his cigarette and headed back inside. The moment he stepped into the living room, he found An Tong standing there, staring at him blankly. Lost in thought, her cheeks were slightly flushed as she kept her eyes fixed on his shirt collar.

The man stopped before her, lifted her chin, and whispered teasingly, "What are you looking at? Why is your face so red?"

Now, her face wasn't just red—she felt as if she were steaming. Rubbing her palms against the seams of her trousers, she feigned composure and smiled. "Nothing, just... the weather is nice today."

Rong Shen followed her gaze to the overcast, cloud-covered sky outside the window and raised a brow with interest. "Since when have you started to like rainy days?"

An Tong scratched her head, speechless. The old sayings were right: beauty is indeed a distraction.

***

After breakfast, Rong Shen prepared to leave for the company. An Tong followed him like a little shadow, trailing him all the way to the entryway. Though she rarely expressed her inner feelings, her every action was filled with a sense of reliance on him.

In the hallway, the man paused before turning to leave. He glanced back, his eyes catching the sight of the quiet girl standing there, seeing him off. An impulse struck him in an instant; Rong Shen turned on his heel and walked back. He cupped her face in his left hand, pulled her waist into his embrace with his right arm, and leaned down to kiss her.

It was no longer a fleeting touch, but a fiery, deep French kiss. An Tong tilted her head back, stunned, her mind going completely blank. She couldn't remember how many times he had kissed her like this, only that such passionate kisses were rare. The man was always restrained with her, and even their kisses were usually gentle and delicate. He had almost never been this intense or urgent.

A moment later, Rong Shen pulled away with ragged breathing and meticulously wiped the trace from her lips. "If you're bored during the day, you can send me a message or give me a call."

***

The man rested his forehead against hers; the sudden burst of intense emotion even surprised An Tong. After all, he always maintained the demeanor of a poised gentleman, rarely letting his joys or sorrows show on his face, let alone being so direct.

An Tong bit her numb lips and said understandingly, "I won't be bored. I might go out with Qiqi. You focus on your work; I'll try not to disturb you."

Looking back at their time together, An Tong rarely contacted him during working hours unless it was urgent.

Rong Shen’s mood at that moment was hard to describe. Perhaps it was the sight of her seeing him off that touched him, or perhaps it was her quiet sensibility. In any case, the surge of affection nearly overwhelmed his reason. To be swayed by beauty and lost in its charm—the terms used to describe wayward kings seemed fitting for him now.

***

In the days leading up to New Year's, the man left for work during the day, and An Tong was not idle either. Aside from occasionally attending pottery classes, she was also searching for a suitable part-time job.

As for Dai Shuai, the male classmate An Tong met at the pottery studio, he had been bringing his roommates to the studio every few days to try his luck ever since he was struck by her beauty at first sight. But perhaps his luck was poor, or perhaps someone was meddling behind the scenes. In any event, by New Year's Day, Dai Shuai had yet to run into An Tong again.

Time blinked, and it was the last day of the year. An Tong had successfully landed her first part-time job as a materials clerk for a small company. That evening, she and Ling Qi returned to Xiangzhang Yuefu. As the car pulled into the underground garage, Ling Qi, who was driving, glanced at her from time to time, hesitating to speak.

"Qiqi, watch the road." An Tong looked up from her phone, noticed the car drifting, and reminded her calmly.

Ling Qi quickly straightened the steering wheel and, after much hesitation, finally asked, "Ma'am... are you free for a moment?"

"I am." An Tong put away her phone and, seeing Ling Qi’s sheepish expression, asked, "What is it?"

Ling Qi parked the car, leaned toward An Tong, and said with an ingratiating smile, "Could you please help me with a troublesome matter?"

"What kind of trouble?"

Ling Qi pouted and let out a long sigh. "There’s a string of code I’ve been stuck on for a week. Ma'am, if you can help me solve it, I’ll split the bonus with you—half and half, or even seventy-thirty is fine."