Chapter 29: Steely Resolve and Tender Heart

On the other side, in the main hall of the front residence, the Old Madam Rong sat upright in her traditional Tang suit, a string of Buddhist beads on her wrist, exuding an air of authority as she said, “Wan, have Archie show you around. I need to speak with Jiu for a while.”

Wen Wan glanced apologetically at Rong Shen, then rose gracefully. “Very well, I won't go far. If you need me, just have Butler Li call for me.”

Her words, “I won't go far,” seemed to carry a subtle implication.

The man watched her leave the hall, then lazily propped his head on his hand, his deep voice tinged with mockery. “You’re going out in this pouring rain? Aren’t you afraid of aggravating your rheumatism?”

The Old Madam let out a soft, ambiguous chuckle. “Wan accompanied me to the hospital this morning. It happened to be nearby, so we stopped here to get out of the rain.”

He made no comment on her excuse.

Each meeting between grandmother and grandson wasn’t openly hostile, yet the atmosphere could hardly be called harmonious.

The Old Madam turned the beads in her hand, sighing before launching into her admonition. “Look at you. Wan's visit is a rare occasion. You show no basic courtesy to a guest. That cold and distant manner of yours—is that appropriate?”

The man’s expression barely changed, but a faint frown marked his brow as his voice dropped lower. “You’ve already told her she can wander wherever she pleases in my house. What else do you expect me to do?”

Cloud Peak No. 177 was his private residence.

Even his closest friends, like Su Yiting and that circle, seldom had the chance to roam freely here.

The Old Madam was clearly counting on him not to embarrass her in front of outsiders and had acted accordingly.

Knowing his temperament, she softened her tone. “Wan is cultivated and refined, a young lady from a distinguished family. Why can’t you see her merits? In recent years, the Wen family in the southern part of the city has made remarkable progress. Marrying her would be a powerful alliance, and besides—”

Before she could finish, the man pulled out a cigarette from the low cabinet drawer, lighting it as he spoke in a muffled tone, “By your logic, there are plenty of families doing even better than the Wen family. Am I supposed to marry every one of their daughters?”

“What kind of talk is that!” The Old Madam slapped the sofa arm. “Every family has daughters, but who can compare to Wan? Is the most celebrated socialite in Xiangjiang not worthy of you?”

Rong Shen’s lips held the cigarette, smoke curling around his strikingly handsome features, softening their sharpness. “It’s only an empty reputation.”

Speechless, the Old Madam was left fuming.

“That’s enough, just focus on your health and stop worrying about my affairs. I know what I’m doing,” the man said, extinguishing the half-smoked cigarette with a sigh. “I’ll have Old Li take you upstairs to rest. When the rain stops, I’ll have you sent home.”

The Old Madam feigned irritation, huffing, “You’ve let yourself be bewitched by some young lady outside, haven’t you? Isn’t that An Tong here today as well? Bring her in and let me have a look!”

At this, a heavy silence fell over the hall.

Rong Shen remained seated on the single armchair, his long legs crossed, arms resting on the chair, his posture relaxed and composed. Yet his facial lines were taut, his brow darkened by unmistakable displeasure.

Seeing this, the Old Madam shot him a sidelong glance. “What? You think you can treat me with the same tricks as you do outsiders?”

The man’s silent, imposing aura hadn’t diminished in the least. He spoke at an unhurried pace, “Grandmother, you know I dislike you meddling in my private affairs. If you want to know something, just ask me directly next time. As for your spies, it’s best you withdraw them soon.”

The Old Madam, somewhat stung, sighed, “I’m only doing this for your own good.”

“I appreciate your concern. But Cloud Peak isn’t like other places. If you really wish me well, don’t try to control me.”

His words were blunt, revealing his unwillingness to be dictated to.

“Fine, I’ll have my people withdrawn. But tell me, is An Tong here?”

She seemed to compromise, yet her tone betrayed a stubborn desire to meet An Tong.

At this, Rong Shen’s expression softened as he gazed at his grandmother, his eyes deep and unreadable. “When the time is right, you’ll meet her. As for Wen Wan, please stop trying. She and I are not suited.”

The Old Madam frowned, conceding a little. “Even if not Wan, you should still consider other young ladies from good families. Wan’s birthday is coming up; I’ve already arranged for her party at the equestrian club. All the girls on the matchmaking list will be invited. No matter how busy you are, you must attend that day—and bring An Tong as well.”

…

In the back garden, Wen Wan and Archie walked through the covered corridor, eventually finding themselves near a detached villa.

“Miss Wen, this is the recreation house. There’s a home theater and a function room inside—a place where Master Jiu relaxes.”

Wen Wan had visited Cloud Peak No. 177 before, but only briefly, and usually remained in the main house. She’d never had the chance to explore the quiet, private back garden.

She paused under the covered walkway, taking in her surroundings before speaking gently, “Let’s go back. We shouldn’t keep the Old Madam waiting.”

“Miss Wen…” Archie, tasked with an important duty today but afraid to be too obvious, could only smile awkwardly and urge her, “You rarely get to see the back garden. Don’t you want to take a look inside?”

Rumor had it that Miss An was inside the recreation house at that moment.

Wen Wan glanced at the villa, then politely declined, “No, it wouldn’t be proper to go in without Master Jiu present.”

Archie, at a loss, craned his neck to look toward the house. “I think I see Cheng Feng by the window. Should I call him out to show us around?”

Wen Wan, not wishing to hurt Archie’s feelings, nodded graciously. “Why not call first and see if it’s convenient. If so, we can go.”

But before he could make the call, Cheng Feng spotted the figures in the corridor through the window.

Sensing trouble, he was about to speak when An Tong, too, glanced outside.

At that moment, the gazes of the two young women met through the rain.

Not too far, not too near—An Tong looked at Wen Wan, instantly recognizing the elegance of someone born to wealth.

The lady in the walkway wore a dark, tweed suit, her makeup subtle, hair in a neatly coiled bun. Her posture was refined, every detail exquisite.

Wen Wan’s first impression of An Tong was that of a simply dressed yet strikingly beautiful woman—a cold beauty, perhaps.

She seemed young, her ponytail lending her an air of youthful coolness, lips pressed together, her brows marked by a noble grace tinged with a hint of aloofness.

Wen Wan smiled and nodded politely at An Tong, then turned to Archie. “Let’s go. There are guests in the back garden; we shouldn’t disturb them.”

Archie, torn, put away his phone and followed her back to the main house.

Cheng Feng glanced at his phone’s missed call, rolling his eyes in exasperation at Archie’s retreating figure.

Wandering around like an idiot—if you disturb Miss An, Master Jiu will have your head.

An Tong soon looked away, stirring pearls in her soup with a spoon. “That was Wen Wan, the socialite, wasn’t it?”

A matter-of-fact statement.

Cheng Feng’s leg bounced. “Miss An, do you… know her?”

“No.” An Tong looked up, her gaze calm and clear. “I used to edit her news stories and have seen her photos.”

Cheng Feng gave her an exaggerated thumbs up. “You have a good memory. She is indeed the leading socialite, Wen Wan.”

An Tong offered an objective assessment. “She’s even more beautiful in person, and her name is pleasant too.”

Cheng Feng pressed his lips together and said nothing.

In terms of beauty, he actually thought An Tong was the superior one.

Putting aside family background and refinement, the city was full of elegant and beautiful women, each a model socialite in her own right.

Wen Wan was the most illustrious of all.

Yet girls like An Tong, with their unique, melancholic grace—quiet as hidden orchids—stood apart, appealing to a man’s protective instincts.

Even their famously cold-hearted Master Jiu seemed gentler in her presence.

…

After about five minutes, Archie excused himself to use the restroom, leaving Wen Wan to return alone to the main house.

At the corner, she ran into Rong Shen.

Outside, the rain fell in endless sheets. The man’s tall, lean figure approached, his crisp white shirt bringing a touch of elegance to the gray, dreary day.

Wen Wan stopped and greeted him softly, “Jiu.”

Rong Shen slowed his steps, stopping three paces away. “Why are you alone?”

His tone was neither warm nor cold—simply neutral, offering no special favor.

Wen Wan donned her trademark smile, maintaining her composed poise. “Archie went to the restroom, so I came back first.”

“The Old Madam is resting upstairs. I have things to attend to. If you need anything, speak to Butler Li,” Rong Shen said, making to leave.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Wen Wan finally asked, crossing the line slightly, “Jiu, the Old Madam mentioned you’re moving to Zhan Zhou next month…”

He turned, his deep eyes unruffled. “What is it you want to say?”

Her smile never faltered, every gesture graceful. “What could I say? You rarely join us as it is. Once you’re in Zhan Zhou, it’ll be even harder to see you.”

“It won’t be that bad. I’ll only be staying for a short while.”

Wen Wan watched his figure recede into the corridor, her smile fading, sadness settling over her.

He always appeared cultured and refined, yet his demeanor was unapproachable, giving no room for misinterpretation.

In truth, what she’d wanted to ask was whether the girl in the back garden was the very An Tong he treated differently.

But to voice such a question would not only be inappropriate, it would shatter the fragile friendship she’d worked so hard to maintain.

Wen Wan lowered her eyes, feeling pale and powerless.

…

Rong Shen returned to the recreation house. As he entered, Cheng Feng, who had been talking animatedly, suddenly fell silent.

An Tong looked at the approaching man, her almond-shaped eyes betraying a trace of… sympathy?

He narrowed his eyes, immediately suspecting Cheng Feng had caused some sort of trouble.

“Master Jiu, please, have a seat.” Cheng Feng obsequiously gave up his spot, picked up a plate of pastries, and muttered, “The snacks are cold, I’ll go heat them up in the kitchen.”

Without waiting for permission, he hurriedly left.

Out in the hall, Cheng Feng balanced the plate on one hand, hands on his hips, convinced that if his efforts didn’t advance things between Master Jiu and Miss An, then he’d be wasting all his hard work.

Inside, Rong Shen regarded An Tong with calm amusement in his steady voice. “What were you two talking about?”

An Tong hesitated, evasive. “Nothing much…”

After all, it was all Cheng Feng’s words. If she spoke frankly, it might embarrass Dr. Rong.

Rong Shen noticed her obvious avoidance, his tone gentle and teasing. “You don’t want to share it with me?”

“No.” An Tong turned to the window, though she sneaked a glance at him, afraid to hurt his pride, her voice growing softer, “Cheng Feng said… your family has been forcing you to go on matchmaking dates at the club lately…”