Chapter 96: Evened Out

After drinking a cup of tea, An Tong realized that her frequent distraction in the man's presence was quite impolite. She forcibly suppressed the restless thoughts in her heart, feigned composure, poured another cup of tea, and continued the conversation, "Cooking doesn't interfere with playing the piano, and… It's just that I haven't played in a long time. Today, I simply felt the urge to try."

Rong Shen lifted his cup and sipped his tea, leaning back lazily in his chair. "You needn't worry about such chores. The chef and part-time help will come regularly."

An Tong nodded lightly to show she understood.

No further words were exchanged. They simply sat across from each other, quietly savoring their tea and their own thoughts.

An Tong never felt anything amiss. Only when the phone on her right began to vibrate did she reconsider where she was sitting.

The phone belonged to Rong Shen.

She glanced at the screen, quickly picked it up, and handed it to him. "Your call."

Though it was just a fleeting look, she still caught sight of the caller’s name: Wen Wan.

That famed socialite from Hong Kong who remained nothing more than a silent presence in An Tong’s WeChat circle.

An Tong had no intention of eavesdropping. She stood to leave, but as the man answered the call, his arm reached across the tea table, clasping her fingers.

This gesture left her with no choice but to stay put, openly listening to his conversation.

"Is there something you need?" Rong Shen’s opening was ordinary and untroubled, his tone betraying no emotion.

One hand held the phone while the other gently played with An Tong’s soft fingers.

On the other end, Wen Wan was silent for several seconds. A barely noticeable furrow appeared between the man’s brows, as if his patience was running thin, though he maintained his composure and did not hurry her.

After a few more moments, Wen Wan spoke in a dry voice, "Brother Jiu, are you… busy?"

It was only a polite pleasantry. She had deliberately chosen to call him on the weekend, confident that he would be free.

Rong Shen did not answer, instead getting straight to the point, "What is it? Go ahead."

"I heard…" Wen Wan trailed off, falling silent again.

She did not wish to appear so hesitant, but some things, once asked outright, would be too undignified.

With this in mind, Wen Wan shifted her approach, her tone becoming livelier. "I heard you registered your marriage? Such a big event, and you didn’t tell us. None of us had the chance to celebrate with you."

At these words, Wen Wan bit her lip hard, flustered and upset.

She had liked him for so many years—her hopes at the start had slowly faded into disappointment. Even after his cool rejection of her confession, Wen Wan’s heart still clung to a sliver of fantasy.

She fantasized that one day he might love her, that he would notice her charm.

Yet, in the end, it was from Yi Ke’s lips that she learned he had already registered his marriage.

Yi Ke hadn’t meant to reveal the secret; rather, he had let it slip accidentally. And the very fact that it slipped out only confirmed its truth.

At this moment, Rong Shen’s expression was indifferent as he lowered his gaze, his voice as deep as ever. "No need for a celebration. There will always be opportunities in the future."

Wen Wan curled her fingertips, the words "Why her?" hovering on her lips. Yet reason kept reminding her that, as an outsider, she had no right to interfere.

"Then… the next time you and An Tong return to Hong Kong, let me treat you to dinner as a belated celebration."

"Alright, we’ll talk about it when we return."

Listening to his familiar voice, Wen Wan said a dispirited goodbye, and immediately after, the dial tone signaled the call had ended.

He really was decisive—leaving her not a shred of hope or illusion.

…

At that same moment, far away in the Wen family’s villa, Wen Wan sat in the sunroom before a tea table, staring blankly at her phone.

Beside her was her assistant, Yang Sui, face full of sympathy.

"I’ve said it all along—if you like him, you should go for it. Now that Ninth Master is married, there’s nothing you can do, no matter how upset you are."

Wen Wan collected herself and looked at Yang Sui’s frustrated expression, sighing with a faint smile, "If everything could be seized by force, there’d be far fewer regrets in this world."

Yang Sui was taken aback, turning up the corners of her mouth awkwardly. "You gave up without even trying. Now… it’s too late for anything."

"Was there even a point in trying?" Wen Wan rose and walked to the window, gazing at the swirling winter snow. Amidst the sorrow in her eyes, there was a glimmer of acceptance.

Many years ago, her status as a Hong Kong socialite had placed her on a pedestal.

From then on, countless eyes scrutinized her every move. Walking upright and sitting proper became her life’s credo.

Even her affections and admiration had to be hidden, never openly revealed.

The poise and upbringing of a socialite were both her shield and her inescapable shackle.

Wen Wan had never understood why, as the city’s foremost debutante, adored by so many, she alone could not move Brother Jiu’s heart.

Just a few days ago, while dining with Yi Ke, she heard this evaluation:

"You're perfect, Wen Wan, flawless in every way. But men are born with a desire to conquer. With the woman they love, their tolerance is limitless. Even if she’s plain or foolish, he won’t mind. But if he doesn’t love you, not even a goddess can change that."

Wen Wan had finally come to terms with a harsh reality.

Her perfection could not make the man she loved fall for her.

And the man who had held her heart for so long had, in the very month he left Hong Kong, become someone else’s husband.

…

Meanwhile, Rong Shen set his phone back on the table to his right after the call, then looked up to see An Tong gazing thoughtfully at her teacup.

"Why that expression?" he asked in a low voice, amusement in his tone—so different from before.

An Tong pressed her lips together, her dark eyes meeting his. "Did I… take your seat?"

As the old saying goes, beauty clouds the mind. If she hadn’t been secretly distracted by her own wild imaginings, she wouldn’t have sat in the wrong spot, nor would she have used his cup.

Rong Shen chuckled softly, indulgence in his eyes. "There’s no need to be so particular. Any place is the same."

An Tong said nothing, but the teacup in her hand suddenly felt burning hot.

They hadn’t even kissed, yet she’d already used his cup.

Then again, it seemed even—last time at the private restaurant, he’d used her fork.

A bit of self-reassurance did the trick; she smoothed away her stray thoughts and continued to sip her tea at a relaxed pace.

All in all, a girl just tasting the sweetness of love is filled with rich and colorful emotions.

Unknowingly, the negative and somber feelings in her heart were gradually dissolved by the bliss of being in love.

…

That night, An Tong sat in her bedroom, assembled her computer, and logged into her email.

She had officially established a partnership with that tech giant.

These days, whenever she had time in the evenings, she would check her inbox for new assignments from the company.

Perhaps because it was still early in the collaboration, An Tong had not yet been exposed to the company’s core business.

Even the periodic beta programs sent to her felt more like a subtle form of assessment.

(End of Chapter)