Chapter 167: Choice

One sentence managed to entangle three people.

Regardless of whether An Tong and Wen Wan were on good terms, Rong Yan’s remark undoubtedly threw cold water on their relationship and indirectly caused trouble for Rong Shen.

An Tong could roughly understand why Rong Xian and Rong Yan didn't get along.

He wasn't the kind of person to commit malicious crimes, but his mouth was too vicious, speaking without regard for the occasion and leaving no room for decency.

An Tong didn't believe that a man with such a privileged background and upbringing would lack the sense of propriety to sow discord, especially since he was Rong Shen's cousin.

The only logical explanation was that he did it on purpose.

An Tong frowned as she looked at the smiling-tiger Rong Yan. There was no standard answer to this question; no matter how Rong Shen answered, Rong Yan would surely continue with his snide remarks.

Therefore, An Tong—who usually kept a low profile and disliked standing out in front of strangers— chuckled softly and took the initiative to speak. "Listening to you, it doesn't sound like you're sticking up for anyone at all. Instead..."

An Tong deliberately paused for a moment. Hearing this, Rong Yan raised an eyebrow.

He cast a sidelong glance at An Tong's pretty yet youthful face, which lacked worldly allure, finding it quite amusing inwardly. "Sister-in-law, you speak in half-sentences. Do you expect me to use my imagination for the second half?"

An Tong took a sip of tea and smiled as she added, "Ninth Brother is telling you to mind your own business."

Stung by the retort, Rong Yan wasn't angry at all; instead, he looked at An Tong with even greater interest.

He had thought she was just a wallflower with little presence, but he hadn't expected her to have such a sharp tongue.

"Sister-in-law, I really don't like the sound of that..."

Before he could finish, An Tong asked calmly, "Are we still eating?"

The subtext was: if you don't like hearing me speak, you can skip this meal altogether.

Rong Yan: "..."

An Tong controlled the situation with just a few words. Seeing Rong Yan stiffen his expression and fall silent, she withdrew her gaze, met the doting and tender look of the man beside her, curved her lips into a shallow smile, and leaned close to his ear to murmur softly, "He's so annoying."

Rong Shen pinched her cheek, his deep, rich voice drifting from his lips. "确实烦人，以后不见了。" (Indeed annoying. We won't see him anymore.)

Rong Yan: "..."

He ground his back teeth, then cast a cold glare at Wen Wan, who was sipping her tea in small sips beside him. With a darkened face, he said, "My dear fiancée, shouldn't you learn how to defend your own fiancé?"

Wen Wan looked back at him, her meticulously practiced, proper smile devoid of any genuine warmth. "You were clearly the one picking a fight out of nowhere. How do you expect me to defend you?"

Rong Yan: "..."

This meal could be considered the most stifling lunch Sixth Master Rong had ever experienced in his life.

After the dishes were served, he saw that half of them were sweets, and not a single one was to his taste. His expression turned as gloomy as an impending storm.

Yet, he didn't blow up in the end, merely muttering inwardly that this girl An Tong really didn't treat herself as an outsider, ordering a bunch of desserts—what nonsense.

And yet, his good younger brother maintained that unchanging, composed expression, occasionally picking food for An Tong and removing fish bones, acting like an overprotective father.

As the meal was coming to an end, Wen Wan brought the desserts over and placed them before An Tong one by one. "These are all desserts I find delicious. Have a try."

Rong Yan stared menacingly at the woman beside him. After all this fuss, aside from the osmanthus honey, the other four or five desserts were all ordered by Wen Wan?

Was she deliberately trying to undermine him?

...

Ten minutes after the meal, Rong Shen and Rong Yan had a deliberate private chat, the content of which remained unknown.

An Tong and Wen Wan seized the opportunity to step out of the private dining room.

The two women let out a simultaneous sigh of relief, then looked at each other and smiled.

The temperature in Zhanzhou after the Lunar New Year was gradually warming up. The terrace garden on the second floor of the building was cultivated with plenty of lush greenery, adding a vibrant touch of spring.

Wen Wan walked by An Tong's side, deliberating for a few seconds before speaking honestly, "Don't take Rong Yan's words to heart. He's the kind of person who loves to stir up chaos and thinks he knows everything..."

"He really is not very nice." An Tong shifted the topic, turning her head with a look of confusion as she asked, "Why are you engaged to him?"

Walking on the terrace lawn, Wen Wan paused her steps and looked wistfully into the distance. "I don't have a choice."

An Tong pressed her lips together, waiting for her to continue.

Passing the lawn, there was a brown bench beside the terrace railing.

Wen Wan signaled for An Tong to go over and sit for a while, and then slowly opened up. "The engagement was decided by my family; I have no say in the matter. The only thing I can do is obey the arrangement."

An Tong understood. Resting her hands on either side of her legs, she asked softly, "What would happen if you didn't obey the arrangement?"

"I would..." Wen Wan touched the expensive tweed jacket she was wearing. "Lose everything, I suppose."

Hearing this, An Tong did not show any surprise or disbelief.

She had heard more or less about the affairs of wealthy families.

Marriages of convenience among the elite were fundamentally about interests above all else.

Wen Wan was born into wealth, enjoying the finest resources and social circles, and was widely known in Xiangjiang; she was destined to be unable to control her own fate.

However, understanding was one thing, and An Tong still expressed her own perspective. "Then it all depends on how you choose. It's nothing more than trade-offs."

Wen Wan's gaze trembled as she turned her head sideways. "Do you think... I still have the right to choose?"

"We all have the right to choose," An Tong nodded without hesitation. "You obey your family's arrangements—isn't that also a decision and choice you made yourself? As for the other path, it's just the opposite."

Perhaps her tone was too crisp and decisive, leaving Wen Wan in a daze of silence for a very, very long time.

Clearly, she had never considered such a possibility.

Over the years, she had constantly studied how to be the prime socialite of Xiangjiang, and everyone held her up as a role model for daughters of prominent families.

Yet only An Tong told her bluntly and firmly that life could have other choices.

A moment later, just when An Tong thought Wen Wan wouldn't say anything more, the woman's ethereal voice drifted over with the wind. "But, if I'm not a socialite, I don't know what else I can do. Besides... my family wouldn't allow me to make arbitrary decisions."

An Tong tilted her head to meet her gaze, pondered for a moment, and said tactfully, "Since that's the case, there's no need for you to dwell on it. If you really can't accept it, why not resist and fight for yourself?"

"You're right. The problem still lies with me."

Wen Wan calmly accepted the statement.

On the surface, she remained as calm as before, but deep inside her heart, turbulent waves had already been stirred up.

An Tong had a straightforward personality, speaking her mind without pretense and lacking the inclination for polite falsehoods. Often, people like this were the most incisive when analyzing matters.

Indeed.

Every road was walked by oneself, and every choice was made by oneself.

Wen Wan could neither let go of her privileged identity nor stop agonizing over her family's arranged marriage. This was a false proposition from the start; there was bound to be no perfect solution that satisfied both sides.

An Tong observed Wen Wan's chaotic expression and offered a subtle, cautious consolation. "I was just speaking off the top of my head, don't take it to heart. Rong Yan isn't completely without merits; at least he... well... looks good. As long as he doesn't speak, he's still quite pleasing to the eye..."

The very second those words fell, steady footsteps stopped near the bench.