The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

The following morning, Hangzhou was covered in a silent snowfall, and the world was filled with a light white blanket.

Shen Qingyao's eyelashes trembled slightly as she slowly opened her eyes. Her consciousness was still lingering in the languor of early morning. A very light breath came from beside her, and a warm breath brushed past her ear, carrying the familiar scent of cool cedar.

She turned her head and met a pair of deep, cold eyes.

Meng Jiangyu had been awake for an unknown amount of time. His dark eyes gazed at her intently, the corners of his eyes showing weariness, yet unable to conceal the tenderness within.

Meng Jiangyu gently brushed away the stray hairs that clung to her forehead, his voice low and husky, characteristic of early morning, deep and pleasant: "Awake?"

Shen Qingyao instinctively snuggled closer to him, her nose brushing against his warm chest, and gave a muffled reply, her voice soft and still drowsy from just waking up: "Hmm... what time is it?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the off-white curtains slowly closed to both sides, letting in a flood of natural light into the bedroom.

Both of them were simultaneously drawn to the view outside the window and were slightly taken aback.

Outside the window is a viewing platform overlooking West Lake, now covered in a thick layer of fluffy white snow.

In the distance, West Lake has lost its usual shimmering blue waves. A thin layer of morning mist covers the lake surface, hazy and misty. In the mist, the outline of the Broken Bridge is faintly visible. The bridge is covered with snow, dressed in silver, like a stroke spreading in an ink painting, light and elegant.

Along the green belt beside the embankment, snowdrifts accumulated between the branches, resembling a tree full of pear blossoms. A gentle breeze swept by, and the snowflakes fell softly, scattering in the air like shattered jade.

The world was a blanket of white, and the distant mountains, nearby waters, pavilions, and towers were all blended into a hazy, poetic atmosphere by the snow.

The usually bustling West Lake is now as quiet as a still ink painting of Jiangnan, so gentle it's almost unbelievable.

Shen Qingyao was stunned. She propped herself up on her arms and sat up. She was wearing a bathrobe, the wide neckline of which was loose and revealed a section of her slender neck.

"So this is what West Lake looks like after a snowfall," she murmured softly, her voice filled with undisguised amazement.

Meng Jiangyu also sat up, leaning against the headboard, his gaze shifting from the snow scene outside the window back to her, his dark eyes filled with an unyielding tenderness.

He watched as the corners of her eyes turned up slightly in delight, and a faint smile unconsciously crept onto his lips.

Meng Jiangyu followed her gaze, his eyes sweeping over the stone bridge hidden in the mist before returning to her.

Meng Jiangyu reached out and gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her into his embrace. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his nose brushing against her soft hair, and his breath filled with the faint scent of gardenias emanating from her body, which smelled exceptionally pleasant.

Shen Qingyao leaned against his chest, her hands resting on the back of his hands wrapped around her waist, her fingertips gently tracing his knuckles, her voice soft, "They say that a sunny lake is not as good as a rainy lake, a rainy lake is not as good as a moonlit lake, and a moonlit lake is not as good as a snowy lake. Seeing it today, I can see that it truly lives up to its reputation."

Meng Jiangyu gently brushed his chin against the top of her head, his voice soft, "Words and pictures cannot perfectly capture what the eyes see."

"But a picture can make this moment eternal."

The indoor heating was on just right, enveloping the two of them in a warm and cozy atmosphere, which contrasted sharply with the chill outside the window.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on the two of them and casting a soft golden glow on their intertwined shadows on the floor—long, incredibly gentle.

Shen Qingyao's stomach growled softly, breaking the silence.

"Honey, I've had someone prepare your favorite wontons."

He was always like that, taking care of every detail perfectly, knowing what she wanted without her having to say a word.

Shen Qingyao looked up at him, her eyes filled with a gentle smile, and nodded: "Mm."

The two got up, washed up, and changed into comfortable loungewear.

Shen Qingyao wore a beige cashmere sweater paired with caramel-colored wide-leg pants. Her hair was loosely tied back, revealing her slender neck, which made her fair cheeks and gentle eyes appear even more striking.

Meng Jiangyu wore a black turtleneck cashmere sweater and dark cashmere trousers. He was tall and straight, with deep-set eyes and a touch of everyday life.

When I went downstairs, breakfast was already laid out in the restaurant. Steaming hot wontons were served in exquisite white porcelain tableware. The wontons had thin wrappers and generous fillings, and the soup was fresh and delicious. They were sprinkled with a little chopped green onion and dried shrimp.

The dining table is by the window, overlooking the snow-covered West Lake. Enjoying a hot breakfast while gazing at the snowy scenery outside is exceptionally pleasant.

Meng Jiangyu served her a small bowl of wontons, placed it in front of her, and said softly, "Eat slowly, it's hot."

Shen Qingyao nodded, scooped up a small wonton, blew on it, and put it in her mouth. The delicious taste melted on her tongue, and her eyebrows curved into crescent moons.

"These wontons taste just like the ones Zhang Ma makes, they're so delicious."

"I specifically asked the kitchen to make it according to the recipe."

I ate breakfast slowly. The snow was still falling outside the window, and a hazy white blanket covered the world. The scenery of West Lake was faintly visible in the snow mist.

After breakfast, Shen Qingyao looked at the snow scene outside the window, her eyes filled with longing. She tugged at Meng Jiangyu's sleeve and said in a slightly coquettish tone, "Ayu, the snow has stopped. Let's go for a walk, let's go to the Broken Bridge to see the snow, okay?"

Her fingertips were slightly cool as they touched his wrist. Meng Jiangyu took her hand in his and tucked it into his clothes, warming her hand with the heat of his abdominal muscles. He whispered, "Okay, but it's cold outside, wear more clothes."

As he spoke, he went to get a thick cashmere scarf and coat, and personally helped her put them on.

The scarf was wrapped around her twice, partially obscuring her face, leaving only her bright, sparkling eyes visible.

Meng Jiangyu took her hand, put it in his coat pocket, and held it tightly.

Stepping out of the villa, a chill hit me, carrying the crispness of snow, but it didn't feel biting.

The stone path underfoot was covered with snow, and it made a soft "crunch crunch" sound when you stepped on it, which was crisp and pleasant to hear.

The bushes along the roadside were covered with a thick layer of snow. Occasionally, a sparrow would land on a branch, startling a flurry of snowflakes that would then fall softly.

The two walked hand in hand along the lakeside stone path, heading towards the Broken Bridge.

Occasionally, snowflakes would drift down from the branches, landing silently on their hair and shoulders.

When they reached the Broken Bridge, there were already a few tourists on the bridge, most of whom were like them, there to enjoy the snow and talking in hushed tones.

The stone railings of the broken bridge were covered with thick snow, and the bridge itself was winding and hidden in the mist.

Shen Qingyao leaned against the stone railing, and Meng Jiangyu stood behind her, gently putting his arm around her waist, protecting her in his arms and shielding her from the cold wind blowing in her face.

"The wind seems to have died down a bit," Shen Qingyao said softly.

She raised her hand and brushed the snow off his shoulder, her fingertips gently brushing against his collar. "Your shoulders are covered in snow."

Meng Jiangyu took her snow-white hand in his, tucked her slightly cool fingertips into his coat pocket, interlocked his fingers, and warmed her hand with the warmth of his palm.

Meng Jiangyu looked around. The stone railings of the Broken Bridge were ancient and covered with a thick layer of white snow. The Baochu Pagoda in the distance was hidden in the snow and mist, indistinct and vague. Behind him was the hazy West Lake, and in front of him was the person he had been longing for. Such a scene, such a moment, should be remembered.

"Sweetie, let's take a picture together here."

"OK!"

He freed one hand, took out his phone from the inside pocket of his coat, unlocked the screen, opened the camera, turned the phone horizontally, adjusted it to selfie mode, and slightly raised his arm to frame the two of them and the broken bridge and snow-covered lake behind them in the shot.

A gentle smile unconsciously appeared on Shen Qingyao's lips.

She adjusted her posture slightly, leaning closer to Meng Jiangyu, her head gently resting against his chest, her hand lightly resting on his arm around her waist, her fingertips gently hooking his sleeve, her eyebrows curving, her eyes filled with an unyielding tenderness.

Meng Jiangyu's gaze fell on the camera, looking at the two people leaning on each other in the picture. Her eyes were gentle, like a plum blossom just beginning to bloom.

Meng Jiangyu's usually cold and hard features softened considerably at this moment, and the tenderness in his eyes could not be hidden.

In the scene, the Broken Bridge is covered in snow, West Lake is shrouded in mist, snowflakes fall gently, and the two people lean on each other, tender and affectionate.

He adjusted the angle of his phone, trying to capture as much of the scenery behind him as possible, and with his finger hovering over the shutter button, he whispered, "Baby, look at the camera."

Upon hearing the sound, Shen Qingyao looked up into the camera lens, her gaze meeting his on the screen. Her smile deepened, her eyes slightly upturned like crescent moons, and the starlight in her eyes was exquisitely captivating.

Looking at her in the camera lens, Meng Jiangyu's eyes were overflowing with tenderness. His thin lips curved into a faint smile, a gentle smile that was unique to him and rarely revealed in his daily life, but which he showed without reservation at this moment.

With a soft click, time seemed to stand still.