Chapter 2: The Lady Has Packed and Returned to China

At nine o’clock that night, Feng Tingshen and his daughter returned.

Feng Jingxin clutched the hem of Feng Tingshen’s coat, moving slowly as she stepped out of the car.

Because her mother was there, she didn’t really want to go home that night.

But Aunt Lin Wu said her mother had come specially to keep her and her father company—if they didn’t go back, their mother would be heartbroken.

Her father also said that if they didn’t return that night, their mother would definitely join them on the sea trip the next day.

So she reluctantly agreed to come back.

Still, she felt uneasy and muttered, “Dad, what if Mom insists on coming with us tomorrow?”

“No,” Feng Tingshen said firmly.

Over the years of their marriage, Rong Ci had always found ways to spend more time with him.

But she was still sensible; whenever he made his stance clear, she never dared to upset him.

In Feng Jingxin’s memory, Rong Ci had always obeyed Feng Tingshen.

If he said it wouldn’t happen, then it wouldn’t.

Feng Jingxin finally relaxed.

Her mood lifted; she shed her earlier gloom, bounced into the house, and told Liu Shen she wanted a bath.

“Alright, alright,” Liu Shen replied at once, remembering Rong Ci’s instructions, and handed Feng Tingshen an envelope: “Mr., this is what Lady Rong asked me to give you.”

Feng Tingshen took it and asked casually, “Where is she?”

“This… Lady Rong packed her things and returned to China at noon. You didn’t know?”

Feng Tingshen paused mid-step upstairs, turning his head back: “She left?”

“Yes.”

Feng Tingshen had never given Rong Ci a chance to explain why she came to Country A.

He didn’t care.

Learning she had left, he gave it no thought.

Feng Jingxin was also surprised.

Hearing it, a small pang of disappointment stirred in her heart.

She had thought—if Mom didn’t join them on the sea trip tomorrow, having her there at night would actually be nice.

Besides, her hands hurt easily when polishing seashells—she’d wanted Mom to help her finish them!

Feng Tingshen and Rong Ci hadn’t seen each other in months; Rong Ci had finally come over, yet hadn’t even laid eyes on Feng Tingshen. Remembering how Rong Ci’s face had looked when she left, Liu Shen couldn’t help reminding him: “Mr., Lady Rong didn’t look well when she left—she seemed angry.”

Liu Shen had originally assumed Rong Ci had urgent business and left in a hurry.

Now that she learned Feng Tingshen had no idea she’d returned to China, she realized something was off.

Angry?

In front of him, Rong Ci had always been gentle and accommodating.

So she could get angry too?

That was new.

Feng Tingshen gave a faint, indifferent laugh and brushed off Liu Shen before heading upstairs.

Back in his room, he was about to open the letter Rong Ci had given him when Lin Wu called. After answering the call, he tossed the envelope aside and walked out.

A while later, the envelope fell from beside the bed to the floor.

That night, Feng Tingshen did not return.

The next day, when Liu Shen came to clean, she saw the envelope on the floor and recognized it as the one Rong Ci had given her the day before.

She assumed Feng Tingshen had read it and casually placed it in a nearby cabinet.

…

Rong Ci landed, went home, and went straight upstairs to pack.

After six years, there were still many of her belongings in the house.

But she took only a few outfits, two sets of daily essentials, and some of her professional books.

After their marriage, Feng Tingshen gave her and their daughter a monthly allowance.

Deposited into two separate cards.

One was hers, one was their daughter’s.

But Rong Ci always used her own card for daily spending.

She had never touched her daughter’s card from the start.

Moreover, she loved Feng Tingshen; every time she shopped, seeing clothes, shoes, cufflinks, or ties suited to him, she couldn’t resist buying them for him.

As for herself, due to her work, her daily expenses were low, and her entire heart and mind were devoted to her husband and daughter—she wanted to give them the best of everything, so most of the allowance Feng Tingshen gave her went to them.

Under these circumstances, there should be almost no money left in the account now.

But over the past year and a half, since their daughter mostly lived with Feng Tingshen in Country A, she’d had far fewer chances to buy things for them.

Now, there remained over thirty million in the account.

To Feng Tingshen, this sum meant nothing—but to her, it was no small amount.

Since the money was rightfully hers, Rong Ci didn’t hesitate; she transferred it out.

She left both cards behind, grabbed her luggage, and walked out without looking back.

She owned an apartment not far from her workplace.

Not large—just over a hundred square meters.

Four years ago, she bought it to help a friend who had run away from home, but had never lived in it.

Now it was finally useful.

The apartment had been regularly cleaned, so it wasn’t dirty—just a light sweep was enough to move in.

Exhausted from the day, Rong Ci washed up and went to bed by ten p.m.

“Ding ding, ding ding, ding ding—”

The shrill alarm woke her from her dream.

Startled awake, her mind went blank for a moment.

Only when she regained clarity did she remember—it was one a.m., seven a.m. in Country A, where Feng Tingshen and their daughter were.

Feng Tingshen and their daughter usually had breakfast at this time.

Ever since their daughter moved to Country A with Feng Tingshen, she had always called at this hour.

But since her work was tiring and she was used to sleeping early, she set this alarm to avoid missing her call with her daughter.

When their daughter first moved to Country A, she hadn’t adjusted well and missed Rong Ci terribly, constantly wanting to call her.

But as time passed, her daughter’s calls grew from affectionate and longing to indifferent and impatient.

This alarm had long since become unnecessary.

It was just that she couldn’t let go.

Thinking of this, Rong Ci gave a bitter smile.

After hesitating, she deleted the alarm, turned off her phone, and went to sleep.

On the other side.

Feng Tingshen and Feng Jingxin had nearly finished breakfast.

Although Feng Tingshen knew Rong Ci usually called at this hour, he wasn’t always home and didn’t pay much attention to it.

Rong Ci didn’t call today—he noticed, but didn’t care. After breakfast, he went upstairs to change clothes.

Feng Jingxin thought Rong Ci had become increasingly nagging and that she was less and less willing to talk on the phone.

Seeing Rong Ci hadn’t called yet this late, she assumed something had delayed her.

Her dark eyes darted, she grabbed her schoolbag, and ran out the door.

Liu Shen saw her and hurried after: “Young Lady, it’s still early—you can leave later!”

Feng Jingxin ignored her, happily sprinting toward the car.

Come on—Mom didn’t call on time today for once.

If she didn’t leave now, Mom would call soon, and she’d have to chat again—she didn’t want that!

…

After marriage, Rong Ci joined the Feng Corporation.

She had joined the Feng Corporation originally for Feng Tingshen.

Now that she was divorcing him, she had no reason to stay.

The next morning, at the office, Rong Ci handed her resignation letter to Jiang Zhe.