The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

On the morning of the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month, before dawn, snow began to fall outside the window.

At first, it was fine snowflakes that pattered against the glass, but soon it turned into large, fluffy snowflakes that poured down from the sky.

In the blink of an eye, a thick layer of white velvet covered the pavilions and towers of Yu Garden.

Shen Qingyao slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the clock on the bedside table; it was just past seven.

This is her biological clock, which she has developed over many years.

The wounds on his body still throbbed slightly, and the places where Li Heng had injured him were still bruised and red, but compared to the days when he could only stay in bed, he was much better.

She tentatively moved her legs, then slowly sat up, supporting herself on the edge of the bed, without feeling any intense pain.

Perhaps... we could try taking a walk?

Once the thought popped into my head, I couldn't suppress it.

The room's smart sensor system detected that the owner had gotten up, and the curtains were slowly opened.

She lifted the blanket, held onto the wall, and carefully moved off the hospital bed.

Her feet felt a little weak when they first touched the ground, but after stabilizing herself, she was able to regain her balance.

A small surge of joy welled up inside me.

She had intended to go to Meng Jiangyu's room to tell her the news, but felt it would be presumptuous, so she abandoned the idea.

The heavy snow was still falling outside the window, so Shen Qingyao decided to go to the living room to watch the snow.

She didn't touch the wheelchair in the room. Instead, she held onto the wall and walked out step by step. By the time she reached the living room door, she was able to walk slowly on her own without any support.

At this time, it was still dark.

The living room was quiet, with warm light shining through the lampshade and falling on the snow-covered French windows, reflecting a gentle halo.

Shen Qingyao walked to the window and stopped.

Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, turning the world into a vast expanse of white. The red plum blossoms in the courtyard were bent low by the weight of the snow, making their red even more vibrant and their white even purer.

The artificial hills and pavilions in the distance are no longer recognizable, only undulating white outlines remain, like a richly colored ink painting.

She was completely absorbed in watching.

In the south, snow is a rare sight. It only falls once or twice a year, and it melts before it can accumulate. Where have you ever seen such a scene of snow falling all over the sky and the world covered in silver?

Snowflakes swirled in the wind, their dance light and flamboyant, as if trying to dye the whole world pure white.

Shen Qingyao reached out and gently placed her hand on the cool glass. Looking at the pristine white outside the window, a smile unconsciously crept onto her lips.

Even the pain in my body seemed to have lessened considerably.

"Why didn't you wake me up when you were awake?"

A deep voice sounded behind her, slightly hoarse from just finishing exercising, startling Shen Qingyao into turning around.

Meng Jiangyu had just finished his morning exercise. He was wearing a black tracksuit, and his bangs were damp with sweat, sticking to his full forehead. His usually meticulous aura had softened considerably.

He was wiping his sweat with a towel in his hand when he saw Shen Qingyao standing by the window. His movements suddenly stopped, and his eyes widened instantly.

I didn't see a wheelchair.

She...walked out on her own?

Meng Jiangyu strode over, his gaze falling on her legs, then sweeping over her hand gripping the windowsill, his tone filled with undisguised surprise: "You can walk by yourself?"

"Hmm," Shen Qingyao nodded, feeling a little embarrassed by his gaze. "I tried it when I woke up this morning, and it seems to work."

"Slow down, don't push yourself." Meng Jiangyu quickly reached out to support her arm, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin sleeve, carrying a cautious nervousness. "How do you feel? Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt anymore, but it's still a little soft." Shen Qingyao smiled and pointed out the window, "Look, it's snowing heavily."

Meng Jiangyu followed her gaze and saw that the heavy snow was still falling, but his attention was entirely on the person beside him.

Seeing her able to stand on her own and smile as she told him that the snow was heavy, the joy that welled up from the bottom of his heart was more exciting than any business deal he had closed.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice unconsciously softening.

"I love it," Shen Qingyao nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling. "We rarely see such heavy snow in the South. It feels like a dream."

"When you're fully recovered, I'll take you skiing." Meng Jiangyu looked at the light in her eyes, and his heart melted completely.

"Okay." Shen Qingyao smiled, her eyes crinkling.

The two stood side by side by the window, looking at the heavy snow outside.

Snowflakes fell on the branches, on the rooftops, and on the courtyard paths; the world was so quiet that only the sound of falling snow could be heard.

Shen Qingyao could smell the faint fragrance of his shower gel mixed with the chilly scent after the snow, which made her feel at ease.

She quietly turned her head and glanced at the man beside her.

He was gazing intently out the window, his profile softened by the warm light. His usual sharpness and coldness had melted away in the heavy snow, leaving only tenderness.

"Aunt Zhang should have breakfast ready by now," Meng Jiangyu turned his head, meeting her gaze. A hint of a smile flashed in his eyes. "Can you walk over there? Do you want me to carry you?"

"I can walk." Shen Qingyao straightened her back and started walking towards the restaurant.

Although it was still a little unsteady, every step was firm and steady.

Meng Jiangyu followed behind her, watching her small figure slowly move forward, and the smile on his lips never stopped.

very nice.

After breakfast, Shen Qingyao nestled back on the sofa and continued watching "The Story of Minglan".

On the TV, Minglan was being affectionately watched by her grandmother, so engrossed that she didn't even notice Meng Jiangyu walking over with a medicine box.

"It's time to take your medicine." He handed her warm water and the pills, his voice gentle.

Shen Qingyao then came to her senses, took the water glass and swallowed the pills, the bitterness instantly spreading across her tongue.

As if he had been prepared, Meng Jiangyu took out a fruit candy from his pocket, unwrapped it, and held it to her lips: "Suck on it."

The sweet strawberry flavor spread in her mouth, overpowering the bitterness of the medicine. With the candy in her mouth, Shen Qingyao mumbled a "thank you."

Meng Jiangyu didn't leave. Instead, he took out a tube of scar removal cream and a bottle of topical ointment from the medicine box and sat down next to her: "It's time to apply the medicine."

"I can do it myself," Shen Qingyao quickly waved her hand. The scar on her face was fine, but the injuries on her body... Zhang Ma usually helped her, and she felt really bad asking him to do it now.

"You can't reach it yourself." Meng Jiangyu said firmly, unscrewing the cap of the ointment and squeezing out a little transparent paste onto his fingertip. "Don't move."

His fingertips, coated with slightly cool ointment, gently brushed across the bruise at the corner of her eye.

The stain has faded considerably, leaving only a faint yellow mark.

Her movements were as gentle as if she were handling a fragile treasure, and she even breathed very softly.

Shen Qingyao's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively tried to dodge, but he pressed her shoulder down: "Bear with it, it'll heal faster if you wipe it."

She could only sit stiffly, feeling the warmth of his fingertips moving across her skin.