Chapter 46

Twenty minutes later, Feng Tingshen and the others returned.

The old lady didn’t look at Feng Tingshen; she smiled warmly and waved to Feng Jingxin. “Xinxin’s back?”

“Grandma.” Feng Jingxin ran to the old lady, who hugged her and ruffled her hair before she came over to Rong Ci: “Mama.”

As Rong Ci held Feng Jingxin, she caught the faint scent of Lin Wu’s perfume on her clothes.

She said nothing, only gently pushed her away.

Feng Tingshen sat beside the old lady and handed her a box: “An apology gift.”

It was a rare snow tea she adored—hard to find on the market, priceless.

The old lady knew he was apologizing for breaking his promise on their last trip to the Hot Spring Villa.

She snorted: “You remember to bring me a gift, but what about Xiao Ci? Did you get her an apology gift too?”

Feng Tingshen smiled but said nothing, glancing at Rong Ci.

It was only a simple glance—no emotion behind it.

The old lady’s intention was to defend her and make Feng Tingshen pay more attention to her.

But to Rong Ci, all of that was unnecessary now.

She didn’t look at Feng Tingshen; she smiled faintly and said: “Grandma, the food’s getting cold. Let’s eat.”

The old lady thought Rong Ci was changing the subject to avoid further criticism of Feng Tingshen.

After all, in the past, whenever Feng Tingshen ignored her, and the old lady scolded him on her behalf, Rong Ci always spoke up to defend him.

The old lady sighed helplessly: “You always side with him.”

Rong Ci smiled but said nothing.

Feng Tingshen remained cold and expressionless; his face didn’t change at all because of her defense.

It was late—time to eat.

The old lady stood and took Feng Jingxin’s hand: “It’s been ages since you sat with Grandma for a meal. Will you sit with me tonight?”

Feng Jingxin nodded obediently: “Yes.”

“Good girl.” As the old lady spoke, she glanced at Feng Tingshen—her meaning was clear.

Rong Ci knew the old lady was trying to bring her and Feng Tingshen back together again.

She didn’t look at Feng Tingshen’s reaction; she followed the old lady into the dining room.

As she sat across from the old lady and Feng Jingxin, her peripheral vision caught Feng Tingshen pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

The old lady was finally satisfied. Once the dishes were served, she said to Feng Tingshen: “Serve Xiao Ci some food.”

Rong Ci didn’t look at Feng Tingshen; she said: “No need, Grandma, I can—”

Before she finished, Feng Tingshen placed a dish of her favorite stir-fried pork in her bowl.

Rong Ci paused: “...Thank you.”

Feng Tingshen said nothing.

When the old lady told Feng Tingshen to serve her food, she didn’t mean just one bite—she meant he should attend to her throughout the meal.

So when Rong Ci’s bowl neared empty, Feng Tingshen would refill it—with dishes she liked.

But that meant nothing.

After all, this had happened several times in recent years. With Feng Tingshen’s memory, even without deliberate effort, he’d remember.

After dinner, Feng Tingshen sat with the old lady chatting.

Rong Ci sat nearby, listening quietly, rarely speaking, never initiating conversation with Feng Tingshen, barely even looking at him.

Seeing how little the couple communicated after all these years, the old lady sighed helplessly.

At nine-thirty, the old lady grew tired and waved them off: “Go upstairs and rest.”

Rong Ci bathed and blow-dried Feng Jingxin’s hair.

Watching Rong Ci quietly blow-dry her hair, Feng Jingxin suddenly noticed her mother hadn’t been talking much lately.

In the past, her mother always found topics to chat about with her.

Seeing Feng Jingxin staring thoughtfully at her, Rong Ci asked: “What’s wrong?”

Feng Jingxin shook her head: “Nothing.”

Maybe she was overthinking.

Or maybe her mother had something on her mind and just didn’t feel like talking.

After drying her hair, Feng Jingxin rolled around on the bed and asked: “Mama, will you sleep with me tonight?”

Rong Ci paused: “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

“I’m fine either way. But Mama hasn’t spent much time with Dad lately. Aren’t you going to sleep with him?”

“I’ll go back soon.”

Their divorce papers weren’t finalized yet. If she stayed in Feng Jingxin’s room without being asked, and the old lady found out, she’d cause trouble again.

She left Feng Jingxin’s room and returned to her own—lights were on.

Feng Tingshen sat nearby, working on his computer, busy with something.

He glanced at her as she entered.

Rong Ci looked away and went straight into the walk-in closet to find clothes for her bath.

When she came out of the bathroom, Feng Tingshen was still typing at his computer.

Rong Ci, dressed in her pajamas, sat on the edge of the bed, finished her skincare routine, and, seeing it was still early, leaned back to read.

In the bedroom, the two of them quietly attended to their own affairs.

Not a word passed between them.

Near midnight, Rong Ci grew drowsy, closed her book, turned off her bedside lamp, and lay down to sleep.

She thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

After all, she and Feng Tingshen hadn’t shared a bed in a long time.

But then she remembered: once he finished working, he might leave to be with Lin Wu.

He might not even stay the night.

Thinking this, she gradually grew drowsy, and soon fell asleep to the intermittent sound of typing.

She slept well, feeling warm and cozy under the covers.

As Rong Ci stirred to rise, she felt warm breath brushing against her ear.

And she seemed to be holding someone...

Realizing what had happened, she froze.

Her mind snapped awake.

Rong Ci opened her eyes and saw she was lying sideways in Feng Tingshen’s arms.

He held her tightly, legs wrapped around her, fast asleep.

Their bodies pressed flush together, no space between them.

Rong Ci could clearly feel the warmth of his chest and his large palms...

She always thought her sleeping posture was good.

Before bed last night, she’d deliberately slept near the edge, intending to leave a wide gap between them—even if they shared the bed, they wouldn’t touch.

So it was unlikely she’d rolled into his arms in her sleep.

Unless...

Unless Feng Tingshen had grown used to holding Lin Wu while sleeping during her absence.

Last night, half-asleep, he’d mistaken her for Lin Wu and pulled her into his arms...

Thinking of this, Rong Ci withdrew her hand from his chest, slowly curling it into a tight fist.

She shifted slightly, trying to slip out of his embrace.

Her movement startled him—he tightened his hold, pulling her closer.

Rong Ci froze—then a kiss landed on her forehead. “Sleep a little longer.”