Chapter 142: Fireworks

"Ha..."

Rong Xian let out a scornful, mocking chuckle. "Are you saying that if I’m determined to break up with you, you’re just going to refuse to leave my house?"

Xiao Mingyu leaned against the vanity, closing the distance between them. A faint, casual curve played on his thin lips. "That actually sounds like a good plan."

As he spoke, he moved closer, his scent—a mix of tobacco and clean skin—constantly encroaching on Rong Xian’s senses.

She met his gaze without flinching, the mockery in her eyes deepening. "Xiao Mingyu, have some self-respect. We’re both adults, don't you dare..."

Any harsher words were once again cut off by a deep, lingering kiss from Xiao Mingyu.

Rong Xian felt a headache coming on, helpless and frustrated. She couldn’t fathom how this social climber could be so shameless. They were nothing more than bed partners satisfying physical needs; who knew that once this man latched on, he would be impossible to shake off.

Rong Xian figured he was just looking to skip twenty years of hard work, banking on his handsome face to marry into a wealthy family.

After another long, heated kiss, Xiao Mingyu pulled away and licked his lips flirtatiously. "You said it yourself, we’re both adults. So, why don't we... let the best person win."

"Get off."

Rong Xian shoved his chest hard, threw open the bathroom door, and strode out.

Behind her, the man wore a look of casual, inevitable triumph, his lips curling into a smirk as he followed in her footsteps.

...

The Lunar New Year’s Eve reunion dinner was particularly lively thanks to the presence of Xiao Mingyu and An Tong.

Ruan Danling, while fussing over An Tong, made sure not to forget to remind her "prospective son-in-law" to eat more. She played the perfect hostess, ignoring the look on Rong Xian’s face.

An Tong had very refined table manners, and every time someone added food to her bowl, she would look up and say thank you. By the end of the meal, she felt dreadfully overstuffed. It was mostly because she’d been served so much that it would have been rude not to eat it.

Shortly after eight o'clock, the Spring Festival Gala began. Ruan Danling ushered everyone to the living room for fruit and television, the massive space filled with the warmth of family life.

Less than half an hour later, An Tong was forced to eat half an orange and an apple. She couldn't sit still anymore, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa.

Rong Shen noticed her fidgeting. He leaned slightly toward her, his tone revealing he understood exactly what was wrong. "Indigestion?"

An Tong frowned, rubbing her stomach as she nodded listlessly.

Before she could say anything, the sound of fireworks suddenly erupted from the backyard, seemingly near the guest wing.

The man stood up calmly, then pulled her by the wrist into his arms. He turned his head and said to the Rong couple, "We’re going for a walk."

Ruan Danling, who had been laughing uproariously at a comedy sketch, immediately diverted her attention. "Are they setting off fireworks in the backyard?"

She continued, making her own plans, "This year's gala is quite boring. Xiaoxian, Mingyu, if you don't want to watch, why don't you head to the backyard? There are more people there and it’s lively with the fireworks."

"Of course, Auntie," Xiao Mingyu agreed with a nod.

Rong Xian, legs crossed, smiled languidly. "I’m watching the gala."

Ruan Danling reached for the remote, gesturing as if to turn off the TV, but Xiao Mingyu interjected at the perfect moment: "Auntie, she’s sensitive to the cold; let her watch."

Ruan Danling couldn't insist further, though she sighed and glared at Rong Xian with a look of exasperated disappointment. As for Rong Xian, hearing Xiao Mingyu’s remark, she arched a brow coolly.

Was he really that kind?

After Rong Shen and An Tong left, Xiao Mingyu followed closely behind.

With no outsiders in the living room, Ruan Danling’s expression lost its previous warmth. "Xiaoxian, what is wrong with you? This is Mingyu’s first time here. Look at you, cold-shouldering him all day. He’s an assistant, not your slave."

Rong Xian pressed her fingers to her temple, frowning in irritation. "Mom, you said it yourself—he’s an assistant. Can you stop trying to set us up, intentionally or otherwise? Do you think I’m so desperate to get married that you have to shove every man you meet into my arms?"

"What do you mean, 'every man I meet'?" Ruan Danling straightened her shoulders, adopting the posture of someone ready for a serious lecture. "Mingyu likes you; do you think I can’t tell? Besides, what’s wrong with being an assistant? As long as his family background is good and he treats you well, he could be laying bricks for all I care."

Rong Xian laughed in disbelief. She had made up his background on a whim, and her own mother had actually bought it.

"Mom, you’ve been away from acting for too long; your judgment of people has really slipped. Where exactly do you see that he has a good family background?"

Ruan Danling tapped her own left wrist. "Xiaoxian, I don't mean to criticize, but you’re usually so sharp and capable. How could you miss the Jaeger-LeCoultre watch on his wrist?"

Rong Xian closed her eyes, feeling a stifling, indescribable frustration.

Of course she knew the value of that watch. Because it was... the one she had bought!

...

In the backyard, An Tong, wrapped in a thick down jacket, strolled along a path filled with the scent of gunpowder, hand-in-hand with Rong Shen.

An Tong tugged at her scarf and looked up at the tall, upright man beside her. "Aren't you cold?"

She had noticed that no matter how cold the weather was, Rong Shen never seemed to wear a down jacket or heavy winter gear. He was always in a knee-length black wool coat that accentuated his temperament, worn over a classic white shirt—dashing and elegant.

But it didn't look very warm.

The man turned his head to meet her gaze. Just then, a bundle of fireworks shot into the sky, the brilliant colors illuminating their faces.

He didn't speak, just looked at her. Such a prolonged gaze always stirred up an intimate, lingering atmosphere. An Tong could even see a silent, burning flame in the depths of his dark eyes.

She managed to look away, burying her face deeper into her scarf. "I asked you a question. Are you cold?"

Her voice carried a hint of playful petulance.

The smile on Rong Shen’s lips deepened. He squeezed her fingers and countered, "If I were cold, what would you do about it?"

"I... I bought you a few pieces of clothing today. You can change into them once they arrive."

As she spoke, An Tong looked toward the woods on the right. The man couldn't see her expression, but he could hear a hint of subtle pride in her tone.

"Do you know my size?"

Rong Shen leaned closer, his arm naturally wrapping around her back. His posture as he lowered his head looked like lovers whispering intimate secrets.

This intimacy, seen through the eyes of Xiao Mingyu, felt both enviable and irritating. He clicked his tongue against his cheek and pulled out his phone to send a WeChat message to Rong Xian.

Meanwhile, An Tong, walking ahead, looked up and replied, "I estimated it by eye. It should be about right."

Rong Shen had no doubts about her powers of observation or her memory.

Just as he was about to speak, another burst of brilliant fireworks bloomed in the night sky.

The multicolored light rendered An Tong’s face exceptionally delicate and beautiful. The man paused instinctively, cupped her face with his other hand, and leaned down to kiss her.

Kissing was something they did every day; it had become a matter of course.