The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

The morning light streamed through the milky white gauze curtains of the second-floor bedroom, casting tiny golden spots onto the carpet.

The clock hands quietly slid past the ten o'clock mark before a slight commotion finally broke out in the bedroom.

Shen Qingyao was awakened by a slight itch on her neck. Her eyelashes trembled as she opened her eyes and met Meng Jiangyu's gentle gaze.

He lay beside her, propped up on one arm, his fingertips gently stroking her hair, the calluses on his fingertips brushing against her scalp, carrying a familiar warm touch.

Seeing that she was awake, his low, husky voice, tinged with the languor of early morning, rang out, "Awake? Little sleepyhead."

The lingering warmth of last night's intimacy still enveloped her, and Shen Qingyao felt a slight soreness all over her body. She snuggled closer to him, her nose brushing against his warm chest, and mumbled a soft reply, "What time is it?"

"It's just past ten." Meng Jiangyu lowered his head and placed a light kiss on her forehead, his palm gently massaging her lower back, as if aware of her soreness. "Want to lie down a little longer? Or get up and have breakfast?"

"Sleep a little longer." Shen Qingyao snuggled into his arms, but her stomach growled softly at the worst possible time. She raised her hand and pushed against his chest. "My stomach is protesting. Let's get up and eat."

Meng Jiangyu chuckled softly, the vibrations of his chest transmitted through their skin, sounding exceptionally pleasant.

He pinched her flushed cheeks before turning over and getting up, casually grabbing a set of loungewear from the side and handing it to her, his movements natural and affectionate.

The two dawdled as they washed up and came downstairs. Zhang Ma was carrying a warm breakfast to the dining room. Seeing them come down, she smiled gently and said, "Sir, Miss Shen, breakfast is ready."

On the table were eight-treasure porridge, steamed buns, fried eggs, and crystal shrimp dumplings, which Shen Qingyao liked. Everything was warm and just right for eating.

Meng Jiangyu sat beside her, occasionally picking up shrimp dumplings for her and peeling boiled eggs for her, his movements practiced and skillful, as if it had long been a habit.

Shen Qingyao ate with her head down, occasionally glancing up and meeting his gaze. Remembering what happened last night, her cheeks flushed slightly.

Shen Qingyao lowered her head and shoveled at the porridge in her bowl, feeling a sweet warmth in her heart.

Breakfast was eaten slowly and leisurely, the warm and cozy atmosphere of the meal enveloping each other in tenderness, spreading throughout the restaurant.

After finishing breakfast, Meng Jiangyu wiped his lips, looked at Shen Qingyao who was leaning back in her chair digesting her food, and raised an eyebrow, asking, "There are many entertainment facilities on the basement level. Do you want to go play?"

Shen Qingyao's eyes lit up, and she nodded.

The basement is a recreation area with a billiards room, a movie room, and a gym. She's lived here for a while, but she hasn't been there much.

Meng Jiangyu led her by the hand toward the basement, their fingers intertwined, the warm touch of his palms sending a sense of comfort through them.

The basement level was surprisingly well-lit, with several floor-to-ceiling windows letting in natural light.

Inside the billiard room stood a brand-new snooker table, its dark green cloth highlighting the gleaming cues. A shelf nearby held various billiard balls, creating an exceptionally refined look.

"Want to play a few rounds?" Meng Jiangyu asked Shen Qingyao.

"Okay," Shen Qingyao said with interest.

Meng Jiangyu released her hand, walked to the golf rack, pulled out two golf clubs, weighed them in his hand, and handed one to her.

Shen Qingyao took the cue stick, her fingertips touching the cool wooden shaft: "I know all the rules of Chinese eight-ball, but I play terribly."

She played with the ball a few times with her classmates when she was in school, and she barely knew how to set up the ball and how to hit it, but her ball control was really bad. She often missed the target or knocked the ball off course.

Meng Jiangyu walked to the pool table, bent down to set up the balls for her, his well-defined fingers pinching the colorful billiard balls and arranging them into a perfect triangle, his movements swift and graceful.

"It's alright, it's just for fun. I'll play with you and teach you a lesson while I'm at it."

After setting up the balls, Meng Jiangyu stood up and walked to her side. "Baby, let's play middle eight. You break the ball."

"Okay," Shen Qingyao took the cue stick to break the shot. The cue ball glided across the target ball and gently touched it. No ball left the triangle area, and the break shot failed.

Shen Qingyao looked at Meng Jiangyu and said, "I'm truly impressed."

Looking at Shen Qingyao's adorable appearance, Meng Jiangyu chuckled, "Baby, you hit her so gently."

Shen Qingyao glared at him, put down her golf club, and said, "I'm not playing anymore."

Meng Jiangyu hugged Shen Qingyao and chuckled, "You have such a temper, I can't even say anything to you."

"I'm a newbie, I told you to make fun of me." Shen Qingyao twisted her body.

Meng Jiangyu chuckled at her words, finding them quite adorable. "Is sarcasm used like that?"

"I'm in charge of my own words; I can say whatever I want."

"Okay, okay, okay, I was wrong, I apologize, I'm sorry."

"Then I will mercifully forgive you."

"Honey, you're so kind." Meng Jiangyu sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You break the ball, I break the ball?"

"I'll start." Shen Qingyao picked up the golf club. "Tell me where the problem is."

"Yes, Your Highness." Meng Jiangyu adjusted her grip on the golf club: "Hold your fingers like this, keep your grip steady, not too tight, not too loose."

He gently embraced her from behind, one hand covering her hand as she gripped the cue, adjusting her finger position, while the other hand gently supported her waist to help her steady her body. "Lean forward, lower your center of gravity, keep your eyes on the cue ball and the object ball, and aim at the pocket."

His chest pressed against her back, his warm breath brushing against her ear, carrying his unique cedar scent, causing Shen Qingyao's ear tips to instantly turn red, her body to stiffen slightly, and even her breathing to become softer.

She could clearly feel the warmth of his palm and the strength of his hand on her waist, steady and gentle, which made her heart beat faster for no reason.

"Why don't you try again?" Meng Jiangyu's voice rang in my ears, with a faint smile. He didn't urge me, but waited patiently.

"Okay." Shen Qingyao composed herself, followed his instructions, kept her eyes on the white ball on the table, and pushed the cue stick.

The cue ball was struck and landed steadily in the triangle area, moving five balls in the process, thus successfully breaking the ball.

"How was it?" Shen Qingyao looked at Meng Jiangyu. "Am I smart?"

"My baby is so smart."

Aunt Zhang brought down fruit and a pot of tea. Seeing the two laughing and joking, she smiled slightly, put down the things, and left.

Zhang Ma has taken care of Meng Jiangyu since he was a child. It turns out that the usually stern and unsmiling husband has this side to him.

Meng Jiangyu picked up the cue stick. "Watch me scatter the rest of the balls."

Meng Jiangyu's movements were smooth and precise, executed in one fluid motion, making the entire court come alive with movement. "How was that shot?"

"It's alright." Shen Qingyao was extremely excited by the scene; he was just too handsome, but she didn't say anything.

Seeing her infatuated expression, Meng Jiangyu understood immediately, "It's your turn."

Shen Qingyao chose the number 11 ball, which was closest to the pocket. The red ball rolled a few times and stopped just short of the pocket.

"Honey, why didn't you choose ball number 1? It's in a straight line with the middle pocket and the cue ball."

"Ball number 11 is closer."

"Being close to the pocket doesn't mean it's easy to hit. The angle for hitting the bottom and top pockets is too small, while the angle for hitting the middle pocket is larger, so even if you miss a little, you can still make the shot," Meng Jiangyu demonstrated.

"Oh, okay, I know."

"I'll give you a handicap; try ball number 1."

"Okay." Shen Qingyao shoved the food into the bag. "Listen to people, eat your fill."

"You're teachable." Meng Jiangyu released her, raised his hand to ruffle her hair, his eyes full of approval. "It would be even better if you could use a little more force when you strike the ball and aim a little more accurately."