Chapter 43: Marriage Registration

The next day marked the beginning of winter.

In the early morning, the mist lingered like a veil of smoke, enveloping the dawn’s chill. The almanac declared today as the start of winter, a day auspicious for marriage.

This was what An Tong saw displayed atop the table in the living room of the old mansion. The house she lived in bore the marks of time—a vintage almanac on the table, an old-fashioned telephone on a low stand, arched lattice windows reaching to the floor. The retro hues and elegant nostalgic furnishings made every corner feel like a slow-motion frame from an old film.

Before eight o’clock, An Tong was already dressed and stepping out of the mansion. Her home was separated from Dr. Rong’s residence by a quiet avenue lined with plane trees. In front of the gate, Housekeeper Li was assigning tasks to the servants.

Catching sight of An Tong, he immediately beamed and walked over. “Miss An, you’re up early.”

“Uncle Li.”

He responded quickly, “Come inside, it’s cold. Don’t let yourself get chilled.”

They entered the dignified main house together, ascending the brown staircase straight to the second floor. “Miss An, Ninth Master is inside. You two can talk; I’ll go prepare breakfast.”

An Tong thanked him and raised her hand to knock on the door.

The door was ajar. Hearing a man’s reply, she gently pushed it open and entered.

A faint aroma of tea drifted through the study, mingling with wisps of smoke floating in the air. The man, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, stood by the window smoking, his straight back exuding an inexplicable sense of stability and security.

“Are you comfortable here?” Rong Shen stubbed out his cigarette, paced back to the desk, and motioned for her to sit.

An Tong nodded lightly, giving an honest assessment. “It’s very good. Quiet at night.”

She suffered from mild neurasthenia, and her only requirement for her living environment was silence and dim light. Housekeeper Li had arranged everything to her liking the night before.

Soon, the two sat facing each other, separated by the table, able to observe each other’s emotions with clarity.

The man elegantly picked up the folder to his left and handed it to An Tong, his voice carrying the husky allure of the early morning. “Take a look at this before we get the marriage certificate. If there’s anything you’re dissatisfied with or wish to add, let me know.”

An Tong took the folder, opened it, and immediately understood—it was a marriage agreement, two copies.

She skimmed through it quickly. Aside from general provisions, it contained eight articles detailing the rights and obligations of both parties, as well as personal codes of conduct.

There were clauses ensuring each retained their own private space after marriage, mutual non-interference, and property remaining individually owned, among others.

It was a very formal contract.

Upon reading the last personal rule, An Tong felt the sincerity of Dr. Rong. During the marriage, he would provide her with accommodation and cover all daily expenses; during the marriage, he would offer her free and unlimited counseling and therapy. Supplement: Regardless of whether the marriage term ends or not, he regards curing her as his personal duty and responsibility.

After finishing, An Tong looked up and met Rong Shen’s gaze. “Do you have a pen?”

The man took a fountain pen from the drawer, his profound eyes settling intently upon her face.

An Tong accepted the pen and, without hesitation, signed both copies of the agreement.

She returned the folder across the table, speaking with calm ease, “I don’t wish to amend or add anything.”

Dr. Rong had listed every condition and term she could think of—even the therapy was free. This already felt like a great bargain to An Tong, and she had no desire to ask for more.

At that moment, some of the deep calculation faded from the man’s eyes. He glanced down at her neat handwriting and silently chuckled.

He laughed at himself—a touch of petty-mindedness. Before she signed, he had still been considering the possibility of her bargaining.

With a sigh, he took the pen from her hand and, with a firm stroke, signed his name: Rong Shen.

An Tong watched quietly as he signed. When the final stroke was finished, she asked in surprise, “Why ‘Rong Shen’?”

“Rong Jiu was my former name,” he replied calmly, leaning back in his chair. A beam of morning sunlight broke through the window, rendering his features both indistinct and dignified.

An Tong understood. Compared to Rong Jiu, the name Rong Shen better matched his character and spirit.

…

After breakfast, it was exactly nine o’clock.

Rong Shen wiped his fingers leisurely with a warm towel. “Did you bring all the documents?”

An Tong set down her glass of milk, pulling the household registration booklet and her ID from the large pocket of her sweatshirt. “Everything’s here.”

The man’s thin lips curved in satisfaction. He nodded, “Finish your milk before we leave.”

At nine ten, they boarded a business car headed for the Civil Affairs Bureau.

Cheng Feng remained silent, but inwardly was utterly shocked.

How fast were things moving? They said they’d get the certificate, and they really were getting it—faster than a rocket.

At the Civil Affairs Bureau, according to their appointment, they were seventh in line.

Cheng Feng squatted outside the door, perplexed, and finally couldn’t resist calling Housekeeper Li. “Old Li, did you know Ninth Master was getting the certificate today?”

Housekeeper Li laughed. “Of course. I helped Ninth Master book the appointment last week.”

Cheng Feng: …

So he was the only fool left out of the loop?

Meanwhile, Rong Shen and An Tong filled out the marriage registration forms as required, then proceeded to the photo area to take their wedding picture.

The process went smoothly, but there was a minor hiccup.

Perhaps due to inexperience or lack of emotional foundation, when they sat for the photo, their posture was so upright that their shoulders were at least ten centimeters apart.

The photographer was astonished, repeatedly urging them to move closer, even personally demonstrating with his assistant how the groom should embrace the bride’s waist.

In front of the camera, the man turned to look at the tense young woman, raising his warm palm to gently pat her shoulder blade. “Don’t be nervous.”

His magnetic voice and soothing gesture quickly relaxed An Tong’s stiff limbs and demeanor.

She glanced at him, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I don’t often take pictures…”

“No need to apologize.” His warm palm gradually slid down to gently rest at her waist, not pulling her close, maintaining a gentlemanly distance and softly reassuring her, “Relax, it’ll be over soon.”

Though seemingly close, the restraint in their posture eased An Tong’s psychological burden. The fresh scent he carried was as refreshing as morning dew, calming and pleasant.

In the end, after five minutes, the wedding photo of Ninth Master Rong and Miss An was successfully taken. Though not as radiant as other newlyweds, at least they stood side by side in mutual respect.

…

At ten thirty, the seal was stamped onto the red booklet, and they shifted from doctor and patient to husband and wife.

…

For An Tong, obtaining the marriage certificate felt more like completing a task.

Back in the business car, she casually slipped the certificate into her pocket.

Cheng Feng turned around with feigned cheer, “Congratulations to the newlyweds.” It wasn’t that he was insincere or bold—he simply couldn’t see any sign of joy on either of their faces.

Well, perhaps this was the calm composure of people of high stature.

On the ride back, An Tong leaned against her seat, shifting restlessly several times, her uneasiness naturally catching Rong Shen’s attention. “Not feeling well?”

An Tong pressed her lips together and shook her head, but her furrowed brow betrayed an air of irritability.

She wanted a bath—the sooner, the better.

During the photo shoot, because her black sweatshirt didn’t fit the requirements, she had to change into a white blouse provided by the photographer. It was unclear how many people had worn it before; it felt unclean, and now her back itched unbearably.

The man’s sharp gaze seemed to sense something. He withdrew his glance and quietly told Cheng Feng, “Drive faster.”

Cheng Feng floored the accelerator, his thoughts running wild with the increasing speed.

When they arrived at Yun Dian, An Tong hurried back to the rear mansion, her steps quick.

Rong Shen, meanwhile, strode calmly into the main house’s living room.

He lit a cigarette, holding An Tong’s household booklet in hand, lost in thought.

The household information listed only three people—An Tong, An Xi, and Xie Miaohua. There was no page for An Xianghuai.

Currently, An Tong was the head of household; her brother and mother’s pages were stamped as deceased.

An Xianghuai’s registration wasn’t in the Yunhai Road district. Based on Yi Ke’s words, her father’s registration was likely kept at a workplace or institution. But his fate was unknown.

Rong Shen flipped through the booklet, closed it, and set it aside.

Her family matters, for now, he had no intention of investigating. Even if curiosity arose, it wasn’t enough to sway his reason.

From the start, his meticulous calculations had been solely for this marriage certificate.

An Tong’s background, whether her father was an official or not, mattered little to him.

He rose and walked to the window, gazing deeply at the mansion in the rear garden that belonged to An Tong. In his mind, her beautiful face, always filled with respect toward him, appeared vividly.

How much did she trust him, to leave her household booklet in his file bag without a hint of caution?

For the cold-hearted Ninth Master Rong, in that moment, his heart was struck again.

Having just decided not to meddle in her family affairs, now he found himself unexpectedly wavering.

He made a supposition: If one day the young woman needed his help, would he stay rational and detached?

A few seconds later, he sighed softly, already knowing the answer.

If An Tong ever sought his help, he might not go to extremes, but it would be very hard to remain uninvolved…