The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the Little New Year is celebrated in the north. At seven o'clock in the morning, Yu Garden was still bathed in the slight chill of the twelfth lunar month. A few rays of light from the sky peeked through the curtains. Meng Jiangyu quietly lifted the covers and got up, afraid of disturbing Shen Qingyao, who was sleeping soundly beside him.

He tucked the blanket around her, his fingertips gently brushing the stray hairs on her cheek. The tenderness of last night still lingered in her relaxed brows and eyes, her breathing light and even.

Meng Jiangyu leaned down and placed a very light kiss on her forehead before turning and going into the bathroom.

As he came downstairs, Zhang Ma was carrying a bowl of warm millet porridge toward the dining room. She stopped immediately when she saw him come down and said, "Sir, dinner is ready."

"Okay," Meng Jiangyu nodded, "Yaoyao is still asleep, let's do it after she wakes up."

He paused, then added, "I have to go to the family dinner at the old house. The elders all think Qingyao has gone back to her hometown. Don't mention Yaoyao's return to Beijing to the old house."

Aunt Zhang nodded knowingly: "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Before leaving, Meng Jiangyu turned back to the bedroom and glanced at Shen Qingyao, who was still fast asleep.

As the car drove out of Yu Garden, he took out his phone and sent Shen Qingyao a WeChat message: "Baby, I'm going to the old house for a family banquet. You get some sleep, and when you wake up, I'll have Zhang Ma make you your favorite food."

He added, "The elders at the old house all thought you went back to your hometown. I didn't tell them you went back to Beijing. I didn't bring you to the family banquet this year because I didn't want you to appear without any official status, lest the collateral branches gossip and it upset my girl. I'll be back around 4 PM."

After sending the message, he looked at Shen Qingyao's photo on the screen, his eyes filled with tenderness.

The Meng family has many branches, and the family banquet during the Lunar New Year is always crowded and noisy. He protects Shen Qingyao and will never let her have any gossip, not even a trivial comment.

The Meng family's old house is a typical Beijing-style courtyard house. The vermilion gate was wide open, red lanterns hung in the courtyard, and many young members of the collateral branches stood under the eaves. When they saw Meng Jiangyu's car arrive, they all turned their heads to look.

He pushed open the car door and got out, dressed in a black haute couture coat, with a tall and straight posture and cold eyes. He gave a slight nod to the butler who came to greet him and walked straight inside, without any extra expression throughout.

Inside the main room, the elders of the Meng family were chatting, while the members of the collateral branches sat down according to seniority. When he entered, they all stood up to greet him.

Meng Jiangyu walked to the head seat and sat down, his movements elegant and efficient, his tone indifferent and emotionless: "Please sit down, everyone."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone took their seats.

Meng Jiangyu picked up the tea in front of him, took a sip, and lightly tapped the rim of the cup with his fingertips, remaining silent throughout.

People from the collateral branches tried to use the Lunar New Year to build relationships and discuss business, taking turns to offer tea and strike up conversations. However, he politely but distantly deflected their questions with a few words, demonstrating excellent tact and a sense of propriety. He neither offended his elders nor gave others any opportunity to take advantage of him.

He maintained a dignified demeanor, and when answering questions from elders, he was concise and to the point, without uttering a single unnecessary word.

When Shen Qingyao woke up at Yu Garden, it was already noon. Sunlight streamed through the French windows and filled the bed, making it feel warm and cozy.

Shen Qingyao stretched, her legs still a little sore. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table; it was 11:30.

Shen Qingyao picked up her phone and immediately saw Meng Jiangyu's message. When she saw the sentence "I don't want you to appear in public without a name or status," a warm sweetness welled up in her heart, and her nose tingled slightly.

She was always taught to be sensible and accommodating; no one had ever cared so much about her dignity and protected her like this.

She replied with a message: "Okay, Mr. Meng, you're so thoughtful. I'm awake, getting ready for lunch~"

Just as she put down her phone, Zhang Ma gently knocked on the door: "Madam, are you awake? Lunch is ready, including your favorite sweet and sour pork ribs, stir-fried shrimp, and beef brisket with potatoes."

Shen Qingyao responded and slowly washed up and changed her clothes. She put on a soft, off-white loungewear. When she came downstairs, the food was neatly arranged, all of which were her favorites.

Shen Qingyao took a picture of her lunch and sent it to Meng Jiangyu, saying, "The food Zhang Ma made looks delicious."

After lunch, she nestled on the cashmere sofa in the living room, a thin blanket covering her knees, with her favorite TV series, "The Story of Minglan," playing on the television.

Aunt Zhang brought over several plates of snacks and fruit, heated up a cup of milk for Shen Qingyao, and said with a smile, "Before, the TV only showed news, but now they're showing dramas."

"Madam, before he left, he specifically instructed me to prepare this for you, saying that you like to eat this."

"Aunt Zhang, you're too kind. Just call me Yao Yao." Shen Qingyao took a bite of strawberry.

"Madam, noble families value rules and etiquette above all else. Otherwise, I won't be able to continue working here."

"You can call me Yao Yao in private."

"No, it's a habit, and you'll subconsciously mispronounce it in formal situations."

Seeing that she couldn't persuade Zhang Ma, Shen Qingyao didn't press the issue and said, "Alright."

The sun shines brightly outside the window, and the wintersweet is in full bloom. Its delicate fragrance drifts into the room, mingling with the sweet scent of milk. The afternoon hours seem to pass as slowly as a piece of fluffy cotton.

Shen Qingyao nestled on the sofa, occasionally popping a strawberry into her mouth, enjoying the show.

Around 3 p.m., the family banquet ended, and the elders asked him to stay and talk, giving him some advice on the New Year's arrangements and telling him to take good care of the collateral relatives.

Meng Jiangyu responded calmly, only listening to what he should hear and refusing to comment on anything he shouldn't. After the elders finished speaking, he got up to take his leave without any delay.

Before leaving, he specifically instructed the cook at the old house to pack the freshly made jujube paste cakes into boxes: "Use insulated boxes and seal them tightly."

The cook dared not delay and immediately did as instructed.

On the drive back to Yu Garden, he pulled up his chat with Shen Qingyao, and the coldness in his eyes instantly faded, replaced by a gentle smile.

The previous message was a photo of lunch taken by Shen Qingyao. Meng Jiangyu told her not to eat too much and that he would bring her jujube paste cake in the afternoon.

When Shen Qingyao visited the old house last time, she ate several pieces of jujube paste cake.

Meng Jiangyu typed with his fingertips: "I'm almost home. I brought you some freshly made jujube paste cake."

"Mmm~ I'll be waiting for you at home."

As evening fell, Meng Jiangyu's car drove back to Yu Garden. The sound of a door opening came from the entrance hall, where Shen Qingyao was nestled on the sofa watching the scene of Minglan and Gu Ershu's wedding.

She looked up and saw Meng Jiangyu push open the door and come in, carrying a slightly chilly December air and a food box in his hand.

The moment he saw her, the coldness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a gentle smile, and his aura softened.

He casually handed his coat to the maid, strode over, reached out and ruffled her hair, his voice full of affection: "Baby, I brought you back some jujube paste cake, it's still warm."

Shen Qingyao reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his warm chest, her nose brushing against the faint scent of cedar on his body, and said softly, "Happy Lunar New Year, Mr. Meng."

Meng Jiangyu lowered his head and kissed the top of her head, then raised his hand to open the insulated box. The soft and sticky jujube cake was steaming with a sweet aroma.

He picked up a piece and held it to her lips, watching her take a small bite, his eyes overflowing with tenderness.

The evening breeze of December blew outside the window, and the warm yellow light inside enveloped the two of them.