Chapter 89: Setting the Date

When Rong Qing awoke again, the room was warm, the bed soft, and the environment utterly unlike the humble country inn she remembered. Golden lamplight cast a gentle glow across her face, imbuing everything with an air of unreal tranquility. Heavy curtains blocked most of the sunlight, enveloping the room in a cocoon of comfort.

“Qing, are you feeling better?” Huo Lingtian set aside his work when he heard her stir, coming to her bedside with a cup of warm water.

She struggled to sit up, and he tucked a pillow behind her waist. “It’s really you,” she murmured, still half in disbelief. The familiar voice and comforting presence she’d heard in her dreams were no illusion—her man had truly come for her.

“Silly girl,” Huo Lingtian chided fondly, tapping her nose with a touch of affection. “You don’t even eat properly when you’re sick. Are you hungry?”

Now that he mentioned it, she realized she hadn’t had an appetite for days, and yesterday she’d fallen asleep on an empty stomach. Her belly felt hollow. She nodded pitifully, and Huo Lingtian retrieved a bowl of steaming porridge from the food warmer—he’d anticipated her hunger and had food prepared in advance.

Rong Qing wolfed down more than half the bowl, warmth spreading through her famished stomach. After the meal, a light sweat broke out, her fever receded, and she finally felt truly alive again.

Huo Lingtian went to the door and returned with a bowl of something thick and black, its bitter scent making Rong Qing wrinkle her nose. No matter how much he doted on her, when it came to her health, there was no room for compromise. The prescription from the old traditional doctor was meant to restore her strength.

Her earlier ease evaporated as she eyed the medicine with dread, glancing plaintively at the man before her in a final attempt at resistance.

“Be good, darling. You have to drink this,” Huo Lingtian’s tone was firm.

Under his unwavering gaze, Rong Qing—resigned and heroic—pinched her nose and gulped down most of the bitter brew in one breath.

She coughed, her face scrunched in agony. “So bitter,” she managed, her brows furrowed in a mountain of misery as the taste lingered on her tongue.

“Rinse your mouth,” Lingtian urged, quickly handing her the warm water. Watching her suffer through the medicine pained him too—he would have drunk it for her if he could. He didn’t force her to finish the last mouthful, instead pulling her gently into his arms. This silly girl, this little troublemaker—she’d only been gone a few days and already run herself ragged. How could he ever let her out of his sight again?

He pinched her cheeks, dismayed to find the soft baby fat he’d so painstakingly nourished had disappeared. He vowed silently to fatten her up again, to restore the smooth, rosy glow to her skin.

After a luxurious hot shower at the high-end hotel, Rong Qing felt clean, fragrant, and finally human again. Her ordeal was over. With her scenes in the mountains finished, the rest of the crew would remain on location, but she was free to leave. After a word with the director, she returned to City X with Huo Lingtian.

Drowsy in the car, the scenery outside blurred past. When she next became aware, she found herself before the gates of a sprawling estate—a sense of foreboding creeping into her heart.

“Did we… take a wrong turn?” Rong Qing joked, desperately hoping he’d notice the mistake and turn back toward their own little home.

But Huo Lingtian only smiled, the car already cleared through security and gliding deeper into the grounds. “Grandfather wants to meet his future granddaughter-in-law.”

Rong Qing turned mechanically. “Grand… grandfather? The old master of the Huo family?”

He nodded with an indifferent hum. If not for his eccentric old man calling that morning and insisting on meeting his future granddaughter-in-law, Huo Lingtian wouldn’t have brought his darling lamb into the lion’s den so soon. The Huo family was not known for being gentle.

“You could have told me sooner!” Rong Qing exploded. She was still pale and weak, disheveled from her illness—hardly fit to meet the elders. Most importantly, she hadn’t prepared a gift! It was basic courtesy to bring a present for a first meeting, but the man beside her had said nothing. “No, I can’t! I look awful.” She curled up in a corner like a stubborn child, refusing to budge.

“Is it really so hard to meet my family, darling?” Huo Lingtian’s wounded expression belied the steady pace of the car.

“It’s not that…” Meeting the parents was always a delicate affair, especially in a powerful family rife with intrigue. She could easily be branded as disrespectful and doom their budding romance before it began. All those melodramatic prime-time dramas she’d watched had clearly left their mark. “I just didn’t prepare a gift. That’s not right.” She tried to persuade him.

Huo Lingtian hadn’t thought it necessary, but in families like theirs, even if his grandfather didn’t care, others would gossip. He fetched from the trunk a velvet box, dusty but clearly valuable, and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” Rong Qing carefully brushed off the dust and opened it slowly. A rich, inky aroma wafted out.

“Antique ink?” She gasped. This was a true treasure, old and fragrant.

He nodded.

Following Huo Lingtian, Rong Qing entered the old Huo estate. Most of the servants had been dismissed, only a few trusted aides remaining. Unlike the extravagant modern decor of Western mansions, the entire residence radiated an aura of tradition and culture. The old master clearly loved art—calligraphy and paintings by famed artists hung in the halls.

Beyond the porch, a white-haired elder sat upright on the sofa, evidently awaiting their arrival.

“Grandfather,” Huo Lingtian greeted respectfully.

“Grandfather Huo,” Rong Qing said sweetly, presenting her gift.

“Hmph, at least you remembered your manners this time!” the old man grunted. Rong Qing started—wasn’t this the old man who’d been following her a few days ago? She suppressed the urge to shout. Huo Zhen, seeing the cunning vixen transformed into a docile beauty, finally felt he’d regained the upper hand.

She and Huo Lingtian sat opposite him, and she handed over the gift box. The old man, affecting a haughty air, glanced at it—his heart leaping when he recognized the fine antique ink. He barely managed to keep his joy in check, his face forced into a peculiar expression.

“I hear you work in the entertainment industry?” the old master asked coolly. “That doesn’t really suit our family’s status.”

“That’s right. I use my acting to entertain audiences, while your family sells things. It’s not quite the same,” Rong Qing replied innocently. Merchants, after all, were people who sold goods.

Huo Lingtian couldn’t help but laugh, while the old master, looking at his unfilial grandson and sharp-witted future granddaughter-in-law, finally saw the truth: they had joined forces against this old man with one foot in the grave. After a period of covert observation—he’d even watched her film “Years of Splendor”—he’d been utterly won over. The staff often heard eerie sobs coming from his room as he watched her movies, which must have made for quite the ghostly scene.

On the surface, the old master maintained his stoic façade, but with his idol sitting right before him as his future granddaughter-in-law, he was secretly overjoyed. He watched all of Rong Qing’s new shows and commercials religiously, to the point of obsession. His Weibo account was even her most devoted fan.

“So, shouldn’t you set a date already?” Huo Zhen asked as calmly as he could. Ever since becoming enthralled by Rong Qing’s performances, he understood the true power of a celebrity. Even an old military stalwart like himself couldn’t resist. He’d even established an unwritten rule for the military: no watching TV while on duty—much to the chagrin of the soldiers.

Wait, how had the tension in the room turned so strange? Surely she was misunderstanding, Rong Qing thought. She shot Huo Lingtian a series of frantic looks, and he, brow furrowed in thought, replied, “That’s my fault—I should have given it more thought.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? The Huo family can’t afford to delay a young woman,” the old master scolded. Honestly, must he handle everything himself? Young people were so unreliable.

“I’ll have someone pick a date as soon as possible.”

Are they talking about what I think they’re talking about? Rong Qing couldn’t even close her gaping mouth as she watched the two men discuss so cheerfully. Heaven help her—was this really happening?

Huo Lingtian led her out of the old master’s residence, but Rong Qing was still in a daze. She turned mechanically to Huo Lingtian. “Were you two talking about… what I think you were?”

“Oh, once the date is set, we’ll have to start making preparations,” Huo Lingtian replied, as if it were nothing.

Before he knew it, Rong Qing’s hands were around his neck. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me!” she fumed, ready to throttle him.

Rong Qing: I object!

Huo Lingtian: Objection overruled! You’ve long been mine.

“You… You haven’t even proposed to me,” Rong Qing shot back, grasping at the only excuse she could find.

Huo Lingtian: …

Huo Lingtian: Darling, I love you. Will you marry me?

Rong Qing: …Get lost!