Chapter 84: Habit

Antong returned to the villa, lost in thought. As she lifted her gaze, she saw the tall, upright man descending the staircase.

The instant their eyes met, Antong instinctively looked away.

For a girl just awakening to love, her budding feelings were always both innocent and intense—she would be shy, secretly delighted, yet carefully concealed her thoughts, terrified they might be discovered.

“You wake up and go running outside without a care—aren’t you afraid of catching a chill?”

Rong Shen came down the stairs, his long fingers calmly fastening his cufflinks. The haze of alcohol from the night before had vanished; he was once again the impeccably dressed Dr. Rong.

Antong glanced in the direction he approached, feigning composure as she explained, “I went to look for An’an.”

Rong Shen neither affirmed nor denied her words. He walked ahead with long strides, saying as he moved, “Come eat first.”

Antong followed him with her head lowered, her eyes fixed on his back, a subtle smile playing at her lips.

The next moment, the man ahead slowed his pace. As he turned, a small head bumped into his chest.

Antong took a step back, tilting her head up, and managed a faint, awkward smile.

It’s fine, no need to be embarrassed.

After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d lost her composure in front of Dr. Rong. By now, she was almost used to it.

The man looked down at the girl so close before him, his gaze growing darker and deeper.

The serene smile on her face—once shadowed by sorrow and gloom—had regained a touch of brightness and vitality.

Her emotions and feelings were more vibrant now than ever before.

Rong Shen raised his arm and gently rubbed the top of her head. “Let Lin Qi help you pack your things over the next few days. After next week, you’ll move back to the apartment.”

“I can pack myself,” Antong replied with a slight arch of her brow. “Is everything settled over there?”

“Yes.” They entered the dining room one after the other. Rong Shen pulled out the chair beside him, indicating she should sit. “The apartment is different from here. It’s quieter, more comfortable. You were interested in pottery before—once you’re there, you can take classes anytime you like. No need to stay cooped up at home all day.”

Antong touched her slightly warm cheek and nodded softly. “I’ll go.”

During her stay at the Rong family estate, she had rarely gone out, living like a caged canary with nothing to do.

“It’s not that you can’t stay home,” Rong Shen noticed the conflict on her face and patiently reassured her, “As long as you’re happy, anything is fine.”

His almost indulgent attitude was so gentle it made her want to linger in it forever.

Under the table, Antong twisted her hands, sneaking glances at Rong Shen’s hand resting on the table, quietly recalling his initiative the previous night.

Sitting so close—wouldn’t he hold her hand?

Antong lowered her eyes, fingers tentatively reaching out, eager to take his hand. Yet, feeling shy and afraid she’d seem too forward, she quickly curled her fingers back.

Just then, the man set a glass of milk and a plate before her, then reached under the table and took her small hand in his.

Antong pressed her lips into a smile, her eyes darting around the dining room while her fingertips gently hooked into Rong Shen’s palm.

“Can you really eat with just one hand?” he teased, glancing at her with a half-smile. He lifted her hand onto the table, rubbing and tightening his grip.

Antong glanced at her right hand, firmly held in his, and nodded with conviction. “I can.”

Clearly, she had no intention of letting go.

Though Rong Shen doted on her, when it came to matters of principle, he would not indulge her whims.

He placed her hand at the edge of her plate and, as he let go, said gently, “Even if you could, there’s no need to rush. Eat properly first.”

Antong pouted slightly, but didn’t insist. She quietly lowered her head and began eating breakfast.

No matter what, at least he’d held her hand—proof he remembered the details of last night and hadn’t forgotten.

……

After breakfast, it was nearly ten in the morning.

Antong excitedly brought out a celadon tea set, intending to learn the art of tea from the man.

It was a rare, peaceful weekend, and she didn’t want to waste their time alone.

“Do you have anything you want to ask?”

Across from her, Rong Shen lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, casually exhaling tea-scented smoke.

At his words, Antong’s hands slowed as she washed the cups. She met his gaze across the space and shook her head with quiet decisiveness, “No.”

In matters of the heart, asking too many questions seemed contrived and insincere.

Even though she longed to know why the refined and elegant Dr. Rong would choose someone like her, with her psychological scars.

Perhaps she’d been insecure for so long that even the smallest kindness felt like a luxury.

“Really nothing?” he raised his thick brows in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to be calmer than himself.

Antong lowered her head, fiddling with the tea implements. After a few moments, she softly explained, “No matter what I ask, I think you’d always have an answer. So instead, I’d rather… just take things one step at a time.”

Rong Shen’s lips curved into a smile. “That sounds like you’re putting me on probation.”

“It’s not probation…” Antong picked up the tea caddy, casting him a quick glance. “It’s more like a necessary process before making a definite choice.”

The words were a bit awkward, but she was sure Dr. Rong would understand.

From spending every day together to the gradual stirrings of affection, everything seemed clear now, but their emotional foundation was still shallow, even fragile.

Getting together was easy—but how long they would last, how deep their feelings might grow, no one could say.

Sweet words could make the heart blossom, but who was to say they weren’t sugar-coated bullets?

Antong yearned to truly experience the process of loving and being loved, not just be swayed by someone’s assurances.

“That’s fair.” The man leaned forward to flick his ash, his eyes steady on Antong as he offered a reassuring promise, “But whether it’s a probation or a process before a decision—if you ever want to know something, you can always ask me.”

Antong’s eyes brightened, and she smiled her agreement.

……

For the next hour or more, Antong sat across from Rong Shen, listening intently.

From the techniques of tea making to the culture of tea ceremony, his voice was low and persuasive, and Antong was thoroughly engaged.

If not for the sudden ring of the phone shattering the warm atmosphere, neither would have noticed it was almost noon.

The vibration came from Antong’s pocket.

She set down the tea whisk, took out her phone, and saw a string of 8s on the caller ID.

She didn’t really want to answer, but knowing Shi Ye, he would keep calling until she picked up.

Antong glanced at Rong Shen, who was disposing of tea dregs, then walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed the answer button.

She didn’t need to speak first—the cold, sinister voice of Shi Ye drifted through, “Why didn’t you come to the company’s annual gala last night?”

Antong replied evenly, “I never said I would.”

Shi Ye was momentarily caught off guard, the irritation in his chest rising and falling with nowhere to go.

After a brief silence, he asked coldly, “Where are you now?”

“Is there something you want?”

Shi Ye licked his back teeth, his gaze growing gloomier. “You skipped the gala and haven’t been online lately. Do you not want this month’s check?”

The senseless threat made Antong frown in discomfort.

(End of chapter)