The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

The sixth floor of Junhe Club was so quiet that you could hear the ticking of an old-fashioned wall clock.

Meng Jiangyu leaned back in the leather sofa, his fingers loosely holding a document, his brow furrowed with an unyielding weariness.

After dealing with Meng Yu's mess, even with his extraordinary energy, he felt his temples throbbing.

He closed his eyes to rest, the faint aftertaste of a cigar lingering in his nostrils—a unique scent in his private space.

Suddenly, very light footsteps came from the carpet, as delicate as a cat's paws hitting the ground.

"Mr. Meng, would you like some more tea?"

The woman's voice was deliberately made soft and charming, with an inappropriate sweetness.

When Meng Jiangyu opened his eyes, he saw a female waitress in a club uniform standing a few steps away. Her neckline was lower than the required level, and she was holding a teacup that was swaying in her hand. However, her eyes were fixed on him, with an undisguised scrutiny.

He frowned, his tone indifferent: "No need, get out."

The waitress seemed not to hear, and instead took two steps forward, her skirt brushing against the carpet with a rustling sound.

"You look tired, shall I give you a shoulder massage?" she said, reaching out her hand. The scent of perfume on her fingers mingled with the steam from the tea, wafting over in a pungent odor.

Meng Jiangyu suddenly looked up, his eyes as dark as a frozen lake.

He didn't move, only stared at her, his voice icy: "Who let you up here?"

The waiter shuddered under his gaze, but still wouldn't give up. He bit his lip, showing a slightly aggrieved expression: "I... I saw there was no one upstairs, and I thought you might need someone to serve you... Mr. Meng, I know you're an important person, as long as you're willing..."

"roll."

Meng Jiangyu uttered only one word, yet it carried an overwhelming sense of pressure.

He detested this kind of shameless sycophancy.

The waiter's face turned pale instantly, but before he could say anything more, Meng Jiangyu grabbed the crystal ashtray on the table and slammed it onto the coffee table next to him with a "thud".

The ashtray didn't break, but it shook the cups and plates, causing them to clang and spill tea all over the floor.

"It would be a big problem if my place got dirty."

He stood up, tall and imposing, looking down at her with a look of utter disgust in his eyes.

"Now, take your thoughts and disappear from here immediately. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to make you wish you were dead."

These words pierced the waitress's heart like an ice pick. She finally panicked, turned around and ran away in a panic. Her high heels twisted on the carpet, but she didn't care about the pain and disappeared in a sorry state at the end of the corridor.

The room fell silent again. Meng Jiangyu closed his eyes, trying to suppress the nausea. Some things were simply filthy once you touched them, and he never liked to touch them.

A few minutes later, the room was brightly lit, and more than a dozen staff members knelt on the carpet. "Mr. Meng, it was my negligence that disturbed your peace. I will definitely discipline them strictly in the future."

"The Xu family really has raised a bunch of good-for-nothings!" The leader was sweating profusely.

The boss behind Junhe is the Xu family, whose ancestors were true nobles who have been wealthy for more than ten generations in Beijing.

Upon receiving the news, Xu Mingxuan immediately sent Shen Xing over.

"Mr. Meng, our boss has been unwell recently. He'll personally apologize to you once he's better. We're leaving today's matter entirely to you!"

"If you're not feeling well, just take good care of yourself and don't keep making your great-aunt worry."

Junhe, a restaurant frequented by high-ranking officials and dignitaries in the capital, began a three-month shutdown for rectification.

The two-week military training came to an end amidst sweat and slogans, and Shen Qingyao had gotten two shades darker from the sun.

When she took off her camouflage uniform and changed into ordinary casual clothes, she stood in front of the mirror, and her university life officially began.

Every morning, Shen Qingyao is always the first one to get up in the dormitory. After washing up, she carries her backpack to the classroom to reserve a seat.

She listened very attentively in her major courses, taking copious notes in her notebook. When she encountered a problem she didn't understand, she would keep asking the teacher until she understood.

When she didn't have classes in the afternoon, she would spend most of her time in the library, studying her textbooks and memorizing recipes for special drinks.

The bartending club's activities are held every Wednesday night. The instructor is a middle-aged man with a thick beard. He looks rugged, but he is extremely patient when teaching.

Shen Qingyao was the most hardworking member of the club. While others were laughing and joking during practice, she would practice again and again until the teacher nodded in approval before she would stop.

When she first started drinking, she was a typical "one-drink wonder".

It was my first time trying a mojito that I made myself. After just one small sip, my cheeks turned as red as ripe apples, and my head felt dizzy.

Xiang Yu laughed at her from the side, "Qingyao, your alcohol tolerance is terrible! How are you going to get a part-time job?"

Shen Qingyao was unconvinced, so she practiced in her dormitory using juice and low-alcohol beverages, slowly figuring out how to control her alcohol intake.

She knew that learning to bartend wasn't just about knowing how to mix drinks; it also required understanding and appreciating alcohol, and having a high alcohol tolerance was a fundamental skill.

Days passed by, from autumn to winter, the ginkgo leaves on campus turned yellow and fell, and the first snow silently covered the rooftops.

Shen Qingyao's bartending skills became more and more proficient, and her alcohol tolerance also improved.

Besides studying and bartending, Shen Qingyao would occasionally go out with her roommates.

Xu Huihui knows all the popular spots in northern Beijing like the back of her hand, and she always drags them there to take beautiful photos.

Xiang Yu is a foodie and can always find authentic local snacks hidden in the alleys.

Lu Ying is very interested in museums and art exhibitions, and she will take them to experience the cultural heritage of Beijing.

They went to the Forbidden City together, marveling at the weight of history beneath its red walls and yellow tiles;

We strolled around Nanluoguxiang together, eating one candied hawthorn skewer after another amidst the bustling crowds.

We went to the 798 Art District together and chattered away over the abstract paintings.

Shen Qingyao rarely posts on her WeChat Moments, but her phone's photo album is full of photos with her roommates.

In the photo, her smile becomes more relaxed, the timidity in her eyes gradually fades, and she gains a more vibrant and bright look that belongs to her age.

She also started trying to take on some simple part-time jobs.

The first time was when I helped mix cocktails at a small commercial event. I was wearing the club's uniform black vest and stood behind a makeshift bar. My movements weren't exactly fluid, but they were still quite methodical.

The moment she received her payment after the event, holding those few thin banknotes, she was even more excited than when she received a scholarship. This was the first money she had earned with the skills she had learned.

Before the winter break, Shen Qingyao received a call from her bartending instructor, who said that a high-end cocktail party needed a part-time bartender and asked if she would be willing to go.

The pay is very generous.

"Go, Qingyao!" Xiang Yu urged her from the side. "This is a great opportunity; you might meet some impressive people."

Shen Qingyao hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded.

She needed money and also wanted to see a wider world.