Chapter 65: Meaning

Ruan Danling was so gentle and kind that Antong found it difficult to bluntly refuse her good intentions. Moreover, as a guest, she had neither the right nor the reason to be picky. The real issue was that she simply couldn’t remain calm sharing a bed with Dr. Rong.

Rong Shen’s gaze was always sharp; as he watched Antong’s restless eyes, he could more or less guess what she was thinking. He shifted his gaze away, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "When did you prepare the gift?"

The question Rong Jinghuai had raised earlier puzzled Rong Shen as well. Theoretically, she seemed not to have had enough time to prepare the gift in advance.

Perhaps the topic had shifted too abruptly; Antong clearly hadn’t caught up with his train of thought. After a brief silence, she explained quietly, "I prepared it on the spur of the moment at six this morning."

He raised his eyebrow. "You went out early?"

"Yes, I made a trip to Yunhai Road," Antong swallowed, hiding nothing. "Both gifts are from my family’s collection. I wasn’t sure what Uncle and Aunt would like, so I thought a pendant and some stamps were suitable, and offered them as a token."

Rong Shen looked at her calm demeanor and laughed softly, his voice deep, "Since they’re family treasures, doesn’t it hurt to give them away so casually?"

"Not at all. There are plenty more at home," Antong replied without hesitation, straightforwardly. "Besides... left at my house, they’d only gather dust. They don’t hold any real value as collectibles anymore."

The true meaning of collecting was inheritance, but inheritance meant nothing to her. In such a dead cycle, it was better to give things to those who deserved them.

Hearing this, the man’s thin lips pressed together; his Adam’s apple moved restlessly, and he felt a sudden urge for a cigarette. He didn’t look at Antong again, instead moving to the window to gaze into the dark night. "Meaning is a matter of perspective. If you don’t want them to collect dust, you could always auction them; if they fetch a high price, that’s a kind of meaning too."

Antong caught the subtle undertone in his words and straightened herself, replying, "I’ll consider it when I need money."

The implication was clear: she didn’t need money now.

Rong Shen turned slightly; the spotlight overhead fell precisely on his shoulder, accentuating his tall and imposing figure. "Don’t always be so stubborn. Think more for yourself in everything."

She wasn’t sure if it was the glare from the light or Dr. Rong’s words that struck a chord. Antong’s gaze became unfocused for a few seconds, then she turned her face away and muttered softly, "I’m not being stubborn. It’s just the truth."

The man suppressed his smile; his handsome face softened with warmth. "So, I misjudged you?"

Antong glanced at Rong Shen out of the corner of her eye, pursed her lips, and stayed silent.

He didn’t pursue the matter further, turning instead to say, "Let’s go back to the front hall."

...

Just before dinner, the family drama series on TV had finished two episodes. Ruan Danling sat on the sofa stewing in frustration, and when a passing servant appeared, she couldn’t help but vent, "What kind of mother-in-law is this, a real shrew! The daughter-in-law gives birth to a girl and she calls her a money-loser right there in the hospital. She’s a woman herself!"

The servant, used to such complaints, offered a polite smile. "Madam, you’re absolutely right."

Ruan Danling sipped her floral tea, still fuming. "Shrews like that deserve a thousand cuts. If our An’an gave birth to a daughter, I wouldn’t scold her—in fact, I’d put her on a pedestal and serve her every day!"

Antong, just rounding the entrance toward the living room, paused:...

Wait, where was An’an?

She’d spent the whole afternoon with Ruan Danling, and had neglected the real An’an.

Antong stopped, noticing Rong Shen’s steady pace ahead, and called softly, "Dr. Rong..."

He kept walking, as if he hadn’t heard.

Antong frowned and hurried after him, carefully tugging at his sleeve. He slowed, looking down at her small gesture, a deeper smile curving his lips. "What is it?"

Antong held on, looking up at him. "Dr. Rong, where’s An’an..."

The little one had just arrived in a strange place and had been apart from her for so long; she must be anxious and uneasy. Antong thought of An’an’s bright eyes, feeling guilty and heartbroken.

"In Cheng Feng’s courtyard," Rong Shen replied, watching her absentmindedly rub the fabric of his shirt, his heart stirred. "Let’s eat first. We’ll fetch her after dinner."

Antong relaxed a little, let go, and followed him into the living room.

A few minutes later, six dishes and two soups were served. Ruan Danling took Antong to the dining room, pressing her down to sit first before hurrying away.

Outside, Rong Shen and Rong Jinghuai, having finished their discussion, walked in side by side. Ruan Danling stood squarely in the center of the living room and signaled quietly to the father and son, "Your meal is in the next room."

Rong Jinghuai: ???

"Madam, what’s going on?"

Ruan Danling smoothed her hair, innocent as could be. "You know about An’an’s situation—this is her first visit. If the three of us sit with her, she’ll be uncomfortable. You two can make do in the next room, alright?"

Rong Jinghuai pinched his brow and sighed helplessly, "We’re all family. What’s the point in splitting up for dinner? It’s not proper."

"It’ll have to be proper," Ruan Danling insisted, hand on her hip, refusing to back down. "You can’t understand what it’s like for a daughter-in-law to eat at someone else’s table—I certainly do. Besides, An’an’s parents aren’t here; do you want her to feel worse?"

Rong Jinghuai:...

Rong Shen glanced at his father, who dared not protest, and wordlessly turned toward the guest room. Rong Jinghuai, seeing his son defect, huffed and followed in reluctant resignation. He had no choice—he feared his wife.

Ruan Danling, satisfied, returned to the dining room. Seeing Antong’s puzzled expression, she smiled and ladled soup for her. "Your uncle and Xiaojiu have business to discuss. Let’s eat first, just us two. Don’t mind them."

Antong started to speak, but Ruan Danling had already picked up her chopsticks, piling food into Antong’s bowl. "An’an, eat more. These are all specialties from Xiangjiang—I’m sure you’ll like them."

"Auntie, please, let me help myself."

Meanwhile, in the guest room next door, Rong Jinghuai leaned against the executive chair, troubled, staring at the uninspiring three dishes and one soup. His good son had already started eating at a measured pace.

After a few moments, Rong Jinghuai asked seriously, "When will the renovations at Xiangzhang Yuefu be finished?"

"Next month."

Rong Jinghuai coughed and put on his stern face, "Tell them to hurry up. Don’t drag out the work just to earn more money."

The man looked up with a faint smile. "So you’re not planning to let us stay here for long?"

"Your mother’s obsessed with her TV dramas," Rong Jinghuai grumbled, frowning deeply. "If she keeps this up, it won’t end well."

Rong Shen replied, his tone laden with meaning, "I recall you once said, there’s no shame in a woman running the house."

Rong Jinghuai picked up his chopsticks with a blank expression. "Let’s eat."

(End of this chapter)