The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

Today is the Meng family reunion day. He usually arrives very early, but this year he postponed his arrival to spend time with Shen Qingyao.

Meng Jiangyu walked to the door, then turned back, bent down and gently kissed her forehead: "Call me if anything happens."

"Okay."

"Dean Zhang will come for your follow-up examination this afternoon."

"Uh-huh."

Shen Qingyao watched his car drive out of Yu Garden.

Shen Qingyao pointed to the unopened gift boxes, "Zhang Ma, hang them all up!"

"Yes, Miss Shen!"

-

The afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm, dappled patterns of light on the carpet.

Shen Qingyao leaned back on the sofa, covered with a thin blanket, engrossed in watching.

On TV, Minglan had just won a prize at the polo match, and the sly smile on her lips made her eyes crinkle as well.

"Ding-dong—"

The doorbell rang, breaking the tranquility of the living room.

Zhang Ma came out of the kitchen wiping her hands and said to Shen Qingyao with a smile, "I reckon it's something the master sent that arrived."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a slight noise came from the doorway.

Soon, Zhang Ma led a group of staff members in uniform into the room, followed by several people pushing luggage carts.

A dozen silver suitcases were lined up on the polished floor, looking like small mobile wardrobes.

Shen Qingyao stared in disbelief, "This is...?"

"The master asked you to get some clothes this morning." Zhang Ma smiled kindly and turned to the middle-aged woman leading the group, saying, "Kaylin, it's so cold, thank you for making this trip."

The woman called Kailin smiled and said, "Aunt Zhang, you're too kind. It's all my pleasure."

"This must be Miss Shen!" Although Kailin wasn't sure who the girl was, she knew that someone who could live in Yu Garden must be extraordinary, so she didn't dare to be negligent in the slightest.

Shen Qingyao responded politely, "Just call me Qingyao!"

"Miss Shen, you're too kind!"

As Karen spoke, she directed the staff to open the boxes, "Be gentle, don't break anything."

When the box was opened, Shen Qingyao's eyes widened in surprise.

One by one, the clothes were carefully taken out and hung on the makeshift floor-standing clothes rack.

There are soft cashmere sweaters, crisp shirts, and simple knit skirts. The colors are mostly off-white, light camel, and soft pink—colors that girls like. They look ordinary, but they shimmer with a delicate luster in the sunlight.

She looked closely but couldn't find any familiar luxury brand logos, neither Dior's classic check pattern nor Chanel's double C logo.

But the clean lines of the cut and the drape of the fabric exude an indescribable refinement, clearly indicating its high value.

"Aren't these...too many?" Shen Qingyao looked at the clothes hanging on half a wall, feeling somewhat at a loss.

She's grown up and all the clothes in her closet don't even amount to a tenth of this.

"Not much, not much," Zhang Ma picked up a dusty pink wool dress and held it up against her. "You're feeling better now, so you should prepare more light and warm clothes. The master said that clothes that don't fit can be altered."

As they were talking, ten more young girls entered through the door. Each of them was tall and slender, and their figures were seven or eight parts similar to Shen Qingyao's.

They stood quietly in a row, their eyes polite yet distant.

Karin explained at the right moment, "These are models from the studio, so you can try them on and see how they look. If you like any of the styles they're wearing, you can keep the outfits they're wearing."

Shen Qingyao then realized that she had brought a "living clothes hanger".

Most of the cups and plates around the mahogany round table had been removed, and the servants were quietly tidying up, leaving behind a few plates of dried fruit and candied fruit that still smelled sweet.

The living room was warmly lit, and the elders sat around the sofa chatting, their conversation revolving around holiday trivia and the recent situations of the younger generation.

Meng Jiangyu had just seen off his uncles when his mother, Wen Yuheng, pulled him to a side hall.

Wen Yuheng wore a moon-white cheongsam with delicate orchids embroidered on the collar. He held a string of sandalwood prayer beads in his hand, his eyes carrying his usual gentleness, yet concealing a hint of inquisitiveness.

"Sit down." She gestured to the pear wood chair opposite her and personally poured her son a cup of hot tea. "Aunt Wang asked about you the other day, saying that her niece has returned from studying for her doctorate abroad and would like you to meet her."

Meng Jiangyu took the teacup, his fingertips touching the warm rim, and said indifferently, "Mom, I'm not interested."

Wen Yuheng sighed and twirled his prayer beads: "I know you're busy with your career, but you can't stay single forever. Look at Yanqiu, he brought a girl home for dinner last week, and Grandpa Zhou was overjoyed."

She looked at her son, her gaze lingering on his sharply defined profile. "Do you even have a clue what's going on?"

Meng Jiangyu looked up and met his mother's gaze.

Wen Yuheng was known for his gentle and insightful nature, yet he was exceptionally persistent when it came to his marriage.

He paused for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and his voice softened: "I have someone I like."

Wen Yuheng paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes, followed by undisguised delight: "Oh? Which family's daughter is she? How old is she? What does she do?"

"He's still young." Meng Jiangyu avoided the first few questions, only emphasizing these two words, his tone carrying a hint of subtle favoritism. "He's still in school, take it slow."

"Going to school?" Wen Yuheng was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. "That certainly can't be rushed."

She didn't press for details. She knew her son's personality; he was always calm and collected. Since he said he had someone he liked, he must be serious: "As long as you like her, that's fine. Don't make the girl feel bad."

Meng Jiangyu hummed in agreement, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

The tea is this year's new tea, with a sweet and refreshing taste that lingers on the tip of the tongue.

"When is it convenient for you to bring her back so I can take a look?" Wen Yuheng's tone was expectant but not forceful. "We don't need to meet formally, just have a meal together, and Mom will give you her opinion."

"Wait until she's a little older." Meng Jiangyu put down his teacup, his tone firm. "It's too early now."

Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, Wen Yuheng smiled and shook his head: "Okay, I'll do whatever you say."

She stood up, patted her son on the shoulder, and said, "Don't always think about work. Spend more time with her. She's a young lady, and she's very thoughtful."

Meng Jiangyu agreed, and as he watched his mother walk out of the side hall, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

The snow was still falling outside the window, rustling softly as it landed on the plum branches in the courtyard.