The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

The December wind, carrying a damp chill, swept across the bluestone path, causing the scarf on Shen Qingyao's shoulders to flutter wildly.

She stood at her door with her suitcase and knocked. Her mother, wearing a dark blue apron, came out to open the door, still holding half a shepherd's purse wonton in her hand.

A smile spread across her mother's face: "You're back!"

Shen Qingyao gripped the cold handle of her suitcase, her knuckles turning slightly white, and said softly, "Yes, something came up at school and I was delayed."

Her father put down his phone, strolled out of the room, and glanced at her with a certainty: "You're doing part-time work outside, aren't you?"

The mother immediately chimed in, her tone familiar and matter-of-fact, as if she had planned it all along: "That's perfect, you can buy your brother his new clothes this year."

These words were like a thin sheet of ice, gently landing on Shen Qingyao's heart, instantly melting away a chill.

She had barely stepped inside, the dust still clinging to the soles of her shoes, and hadn't even had a sip of hot water.

She pulled her scarf tighter, burying her neck in the warm fleece, and without answering, bent down to place the gift box she had brought back on the table: "I brought you some things."

The mother's gaze swept quickly over the gift box, without even bothering to open it, before she took her daughter's hand and said earnestly, "Boys should dress presentably for the New Year, so they can hold their heads high in front of their classmates..."

Shen Qingyao didn't quite hear what was said after that.

She felt the temperature of her fingertips gradually cooling down, as if the chill of Jiangnan was seeping in through the crack in the door, clinging to her bones, and even making her heart feel cold.

It wasn't that she was unwilling to buy clothes for her younger brother; it was just that the fatigue from the long journey hadn't subsided, and what greeted her wasn't concern, but rather a blatant demand.

The discomfort in my heart was like a plum being soaked in warm water, a slight sourness rising up, making my eyes feel tight.

She lowered her eyes, her eyelashes concealing the turbulent emotions within them, and her voice was as soft as a sigh: "Okay, I'll transfer the money to him in a bit."

Her mother's brows immediately relaxed, and she clapped her hand and laughed, "I knew our Qingyao was the most sensible."

Shen Qingyao nodded and gave a soft "hmm".

"Put your luggage in your room first, dinner will be served soon," the mother said, turning and heading back into the kitchen.

Shen Qingyao pulled her suitcase back to her room. When she opened her door, a musty, damp smell hit her.

The small, dark room had no windows, only a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She reached out and turned it on, the light barely illuminating the cramped space.

A small single bed was placed against the wall, and clutter was piled on the table opposite the bed.

A feeling of injustice welled up in my eyes, burning me with pain.

Her parents haven't given her a single penny for tuition and living expenses over the past three years. Why aren't they worried about whether she's doing well living alone in the big city? How can they be so sure that a student like her has money to buy clothes for her younger brother?

Love is always a feeling of indebtedness.

She used to comfort herself by thinking that her parents were just not good at expressing themselves, but that they cared about her.

But at this moment, those words were like a fine needle, gently piercing the web of self-deception she had woven for so many years.

It turns out she really was the one who wasn't loved, yet she foolishly wanted to be an obedient and good child.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and the screen lit up. It was definitely a message from Meng Jiangyu.

As his fingertip swiped across the screen, his voice popped up, with his usual affectionate tone: "Baby, what are you doing!"

Shen Qingyao raised her hand to wipe the corner of her eye, holding back the tears that were about to fall, and typed a few words with trembling fingertips: "Dinner is almost ready."

"I'm at the old house, Grandma is talking about you." Meng Jiangyu's message came quickly, along with a photo of him standing in front of the carved window frame, with the warm glow of lanterns behind him.

"I miss Grandma too." Seeing the word "Grandma," Shen Qingyao's nose tingled even more.

"I will tell her that her granddaughter-in-law misses her." Meng Jiangyu's tone was smiling, and the rising tone at the end of his voice was like a ray of warm sunshine, which dispelled the chill in her heart.

"Okay, I'm going to eat now."

"Okay, eat more."

The moment the message was successfully sent, Shen Qingyao could almost picture Meng Jiangyu putting down his phone, turning around and returning to the living room, smiling gently at his elders.

But the truth is that Meng Jiangyu sensed something was wrong, immediately said goodbye to his elders, and asked Jason to apply for a flight route.

Normally, when Meng Jiangyu mentioned his granddaughter-in-law, Shen Qingyao would stop him from talking about it, but this time she didn't react at all.

She took a deep breath, suppressed the turmoil in her heart, and turned to leave the room.

Several home-style dishes were laid out on the table: green vegetables and tofu, and pickled bamboo shoots with pork, all with a light flavor.

Her younger brother wasn't home; he said he went to a classmate's house. Only her parents and she were at the dinner table, and the atmosphere was quiet.

Shen Qingyao lowered her head and picked at the rice, one grain at a time, finding it tasteless.

"Yaoyao, you're graduating soon. What are your plans for the future?" Her father suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

Shen Qingyao paused, her hand holding the chopsticks still, and said softly, "I plan to pursue a master's degree."

These words were like a pebble, instantly creating ripples.

Mr. Shen frowned immediately, his tone tinged with wariness: "Why is a girl like you studying so many books?"

The mother chimed in, her tone both admonishing and unwavering: "Yaoyao, I think you should give up on graduate school. Go home, find a job, and get married soon so you and your brother can support each other."

Shen Qingyao tightened her grip on the chopsticks, momentarily at a loss for words.

She paused for a moment before whispering, "I've already secured a place in the graduate program through the recommendation system; it's a very rare opportunity."

"Why didn't you tell me before?!" Mr. Shen's voice suddenly rose, tinged with anger. "If you want to study, then study. I don't have the money to support your graduate studies."

Shen Qingyao's heart sank suddenly, as if it had been gripped tightly by something.

It turns out that what they cared about was never her future, but rather that they were afraid she would spend money.

She looked up, a hint of self-mockery flashing in her eyes: "You talk as if you paid for my university education."

"You unfilial daughter!" Father Shen slammed his fist on the table in anger, the chopsticks clanging loudly against the dishes. "How dare you speak to your father like that!"

"Yaoyao, quickly apologize to your father." Her mother quickly tried to smooth things over, tugging at her arm, but her tone carried a hint of reproach.

Sadness, resentment, anger, and unwillingness surged into Shen Qingyao's heart like a tide, overwhelming her.

She had endured so many years, countless instances of favoritism and neglect, and at this moment, she finally decided she no longer wanted to let things slide.

"I didn't say anything wrong, why should I apologize?" She raised her head, looking directly at her father, her voice trembling slightly, yet filled with an unprecedented stubbornness.

"Yaoyao, what happened to you?" Her mother looked at her, her face full of disappointment. "You used to be the most obedient child."

One sentence left Shen Qingyao speechless.

Yes, she is obedient, so she always puts her younger brother first.

But what did she get in return for her obedience?

She instinctively wanted to compromise, to lower her head and say "I was wrong," just like countless times before.

Her mother, however, thought she knew she was wrong, and her tone became even more earnest, each word piercing Shen Qingyao's heart like a needle: "Yaoyao, I think you shouldn't pursue a master's degree. Go home, find a job, get married, and we'll work together to earn money to help your brother get married."