Chapter 157: Livestream Connection

"No, they're actually quite lively at home."

An Tong also sent a voice message back to the man. After waiting for a moment without receiving a reply from Rong Shen, the screen flickered and a video call popped up instead.

This was the first time they were having a video call.

An Tong answered quickly. Perhaps due to the lighting, her side of the screen looked a bit blurry.

She changed her spot, sitting near the floor lamp, looked back at the screen, and smiled with satisfaction, "Are you on the plane?"

An Tong looked around with curiosity at the man's surroundings, instantly realizing it was not a regular business class or first class cabin.

It should be a private business charter.

"Alone in the study?"

An Tong secretly flipped the camera to capture Ling Qi in the corner wearing headphones and humming a tune, "Qiqi is working on her school presentation."

The man sat with his legs crossed in the cabin, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons, sleeves rolled up, exuding an effortless elegance rooted in his very bones. "Have you had dinner?"

"Mhm, just finished," An Tong sat cross-legged in the lazy sofa under the window. "And you?"

"Same."

This seemingly mundane conversation was precisely the simplest and warmest daily routine between lovers.

An Tong didn't speak anymore. She rested her chin on the armrest, half of her face buried in the bend of her arm, leaving only a pair of eyes made sparkling bright by the light, gazing at the man through the phone screen.

Cheng Feng's voice suddenly came from the other end. An Tong raised an eyebrow and said softly, "If you're busy, I won't disturb you."

"Not busy," Rong Shen replied, then lowered his voice to murmur a few words to Cheng Feng.

An Tong didn't catch what was said, nor did she rashly ask.

After about ten minutes or so, the man seemed to become busy.

Yet, with a tacit mutual understanding, neither of them hung up the video.

An Tong leaned against the sofa, supporting her chin with one hand. Taking advantage of a moment when Rong Shen was free, she tilted her head and asked, "Is there a lounge on the plane?"

"There is. Why?"

The man seemed to be reviewing documents; hearing her voice, he raised his gaze to look at the phone screen standing on the desk.

An Tong pursed her lips, "Then what time are you going to sleep?"

Rong Shen naturally knew she wouldn't ask such a question for no reason. A faint smile curved his lips, and instead of answering, he asked, "Got something in mind?"

An Tong didn't reply immediately. Instead, she opened the search engine on her phone, found a specific entry, and forwarded it to Rong Shen.

Having done that, she returned to the video call and reminded him softly, "I just sent you a WeChat message."

The man minimized the video and looked closely. The title of the entry leaped into view.

——What is falling asleep together on a video call?

He didn't click to read the content, but from the literal meaning, he could guess one or two things.

"Send me a message when you're getting ready for sleep, and I'll stay on the video call to accompany you."

Rong Shen's tone was indulgent and pampering, carrying an indistinct tenderness if one listened closely.

Receiving his response, An Tong's eyes instantly curved into smiles. "So you actually knew."

She had assumed he wouldn't understand what staying on a video call to sleep meant, which was why she specially sent him an entry explaining it.

Hearing her put it that way, Rong Shen arched an eyebrow with a half-smile. "In your mind, am I that old-fashioned?"

"I didn't say that." An Tong waved her phone and answered without really thinking, "I just thought that at your age, you might not understand current popular trends."

Rong Shen: "..."

Whether she heard it right or not, a laugh that didn't belong to Rong Shen seemed to drift from the other end of the phone.

Most likely from Cheng Feng.

At this moment, Rong Shen's Adam's apple bobbed as he deliberately and leisurely repeated a few words: "At my age?"

A man like him rarely cared about objective facts like age.

But last time, Rong Xian had "attacked" him for being an old cow eating tender grass.

And now, An Tong was using age as a reason to assume he didn't understand trendy things.

He was twenty-seven, yet to celebrate his twenty-eighth birthday, and far from the point where his age could be made an issue.

On the other end, An Tong was probably feeling a bit guilty and hadn't figured out how to phrase her response when her thumb accidentally swiped, and the video call hung up by mistake.

An Tong: "..."

Rong Shen looked at the disconnected screen, his well-defined fingers supporting his temple as he lowered his head and laughed silently.

Did she hang up in a rush just because she didn't know how to handle it?

At this moment, a quiet voice came from slightly behind and to the side of the cabin, "Ninth Master, actually... you're not that old. At most, you just have the maturity of someone older than your years."

The man glanced back at him, and Cheng Feng, thinking he was being clever, offered another piece of flattery, "You're just too mature and steady, usually unsmiling, so you look older than your actual age..."

Decoded, that sounded almost as if he was saying Rong Shen looked old in the face.

The man looked at Cheng Feng with indifferent eyes, and the cabin instantly became exceptionally quiet and solemn.

...

Meanwhile, the guest room on the first floor of Yuefu Villa.

The man's black trench coat was draped over the foot of the bed. Only one reading light was on, casting a dim and tranquil glow.

Xiao Mingyu lay flat in a blue shirt, his right arm resting over his forehead, his breathing fluctuating between fast and slow.

Rong Xian walked in and saw this scene that inexplicably stirred a sense of forbearance in her.

An indescribable feeling.

Xiao Mingyu had always left her with an impression of strength and toughness. Even when he chased after her for months, even when she subjected him to cold sarcasm, it was practically impossible to see any expression of remorse or vulnerability on his face.

The contrast between then and now was so stark that Rong Xian felt a sensation akin to heartache.

She quickly composed herself, walked up to the bedside, and reached out to push his shoulder. "Has your fever broken?"

Xiao Mingyu gave no response, merely turning his head to the other side as if he didn't want to bother with her at all.

"Don't put on an act for me. If your fever has broken, hurry up and get up to come home with me. You're a grown man, what kind of sense does it make lingering around my brother-in-law and sister's house?"

The man on the bed remained unresponsive. After a silence of three seconds, a weak cough escaped his throat.

Rong Xian looked up at the ceiling, ultimately unable to harden her heart, and sat sideways on the edge of the bed.

She said no more, her face taut to the point that her normally dignified and gentle features radiated a keep-out-of-reach aloofness.

Rong Xian leaned forward, brushed Xiao Mingyu's arm away from his forehead, and placed her slightly cool palm against his brow. It was still scalding hot; the fever hadn't broken.

Rong Xian's hand slowly slid down to his face. Having been together for so long, she had never seen him fall this ill before. "Xiao Mingyu..."

Was he delirious from the fever?

If the fever didn't break soon, there was no guarantee it wouldn't burn him into a mental disability.

Rong Xian leaned in closer, wanting to examine Xiao Mingyu's expression carefully.

Little did she know, the moment she leaned forward just a few centimeters, the man suddenly raised his arm, wrapped it around her waist, and with a slight tug, pulled her straight into his embrace.

Rong Xian was forced to lie across his chest, and only then did she clearly perceive that his entire body was burning hot—clearly, the fever-reducing medication had failed to work.

"Why didn't you say anything when your fever hasn't broken? Aren't you afraid of burning your brain out?"

Hearing Rong Xian's cold rebuke, Xiao Mingyu lazily lifted his eyelids, mocking her in a hoarse voice, "If my brain were burned out, I wouldn't keep pestering you. Isn't that just what you wanted?"

Why did this man always say things that made her so furious?

Rong Xian gave him a deep look and struggled to stand up. "Fine, then stay here and burn."

The woman turned and walked away.

Xiao Mingyu stared at her retreating back with a gloomy expression: "?"

Was she really going to leave him to his fate?