The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

When Shen Qingyao walked into the first-class cabin with her boarding pass, the scent of cedar from Meng Jiangyu's coat still lingered on her fingertips.

She placed the bag with the Wangjinglou logo on the ground.

I felt empty inside, and the bitterness of parting was stuck in my throat, making it impossible for me to eat anything.

As soon as I fastened my seatbelt, the slight vibration of the plane taxiing seemed to act as a switch, and tears welled up unexpectedly.

We're about to set off.

She turned her face away to look at the porthole, where the glass reflected her reddened eyes, but she couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

Perhaps Meng Jiangyu's love was too overwhelming, as passionate as a charcoal fire in winter, burning away all the defenses in her heart.

Perhaps it's because I like him too much, so much that even after just ten days apart, I feel like something is missing in my heart.

Or perhaps the experiences of the past few days have been like a dream, a dream so beautiful that I don't want to wake up.

This was her first time flying.

The first-class seats were spaced far apart, and the empty seat next to her meant no one would see her disheveled state.

Shen Qingyao simply let herself cry for a while, her tears falling onto her sleeve, leaving a small wet patch, and the suffocation in her heart gradually dissipated.

Half an hour later, the announcement indicated that the plane had entered level flight.

A soft protest came from her stomach, and she remembered the forgotten dinner.

Crying is too energy-consuming.

Shen Qingyao opened the takeout bag and found a temperature display on the insulated box, showing 67 degrees Celsius.

She paused for a moment, then held the lunchbox in her hands, the warm touch spreading from her palms to her heart.

It turns out this lunchbox is temperature-controlled.

Shen Qingyao suddenly remembered what Meng Jiangyu had told her when he handed her the lunchbox before she boarded the plane.

At that time, she was filled with reluctance and did not notice the subtle meaning hidden in his words.

She sniffed, and the aroma of pork rib and lotus root soup wafted out the moment she opened the lunchbox.

The lotus root was soft and powdery, the pork ribs were stewed until tender, and a thin layer of oil floated on the soup. It was still at her favorite temperature.

A flight attendant walked by and asked with concern, "Ma'am, would you like it heated up?"

Shen Qingyao shook her head, her eyes welling up again, but she smiled and said, "No need, I'm still hot."

She picked up a spoon and scooped up a mouthful of soup. The warmth slid down her throat, soothing her stomach and her heart.

It turns out that his concern was never expressed in grand pronouncements, but rather hidden in these small, subtle details.

It's because I remember she loves lotus root, because I'm worried she'll eat cold food on the way, and even the insulated box I put in when we parted was filled with the thought that I didn't want her to suffer any hardship.

The clouds outside the window spread out like cotton candy, shimmering with a gentle light.

Shen Qingyao slowly sipped the soup, and the bitterness in her heart was completely replaced by warmth.

It's so nice to be cherished and loved like this.

Shen Qingyao put the empty lunchbox into the takeout bag. Her stomach felt warm, and she felt much more at ease.

She leaned back in her seat and suddenly remembered what Meng Jiangyu had said before boarding the plane: "There's a New Year's gift in my bag." So she reached out and unzipped Princess Diana's bag.

Inside the bag was a small red envelope, with the character "福" (fortune) embroidered in gold thread on a red silk surface, which looked very pleasing.

She smiled as she opened the envelope, expecting it to contain New Year's money, but her fingertips touched a cold card instead.

It was a black bank card with a delicate texture, gleaming subtly under the cabin lights.

A small sticky note was attached to the card, bearing Meng Jiangyu's vigorous handwriting: "Happy New Year, baby. This is my supplementary card, with no limit on the credit limit. The password is your birthday. Don't try to save me money, spend it however you like."

Shen Qingyao's heart skipped a beat, and she felt the card burning hot as she gripped it with her fingertips.

He always expresses his concern in the most direct way, yet hides subtle nuances.

Knowing that she was shy about accepting expensive gifts, he used the excuse of "lucky money" and even set the password to her birthday, afraid that she would feel even a little reserved.

The sticky note ended with a line that read: "Stop crying, or your parents will worry when they see your swollen eyes."

Shen Qingyao was stunned for a moment, and subconsciously touched the corner of her eye.

It turned out he had already figured it out; he could tell that she had tried to appear calm at the security checkpoint, and that she hadn't been able to hold back her tears when she turned around.

This man could always easily see through all her pretenses, and even the heartache at parting was hidden in such words of advice.

She carefully placed the bank card into the innermost part of her wallet, as if hiding a heavy sentiment.

The stars in the night sky outside the window shone like scattered diamonds. The cabin was quiet, with only the gentle breeze from the air conditioner blowing softly.

Shen Qingyao raised her hand to press the corner of her eye, but couldn't help but smile.

She could picture Meng Jiangyu writing the sticky note, probably frowning, worried that she wouldn't accept it, yet also afraid of saying something too harsh that would burden her; his words were full of undisguised indulgence.

It's so nice to be cherished and cared for like this, even when I cry or fuss, people pay close attention to me.

She took out a small mirror and looked at herself; her eyes were red.

Shen Qingyao asked the flight attendant for ice and a towel, preparing to apply an ice pack.

I can't let my parents worry.

The plane pierced through the clouds and flew steadily towards home.

Shen Qingyao closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips.

Around 10 p.m., the plane slowly landed at Wuzhen Airport. Just as the cabin lights came on, Shen Qingyao's phone vibrated.

The words "Meng Jiangyu" appeared on the screen. She swiped her finger across the answer button, her voice still soft and sleepy: "Feed?"

"Baby, have we arrived yet?" Meng Jiangyu's voice came through the receiver, carrying a slight electric shock, yet it was exceptionally clear.

"Yes, I just landed." Shen Qingyao looked at the familiar night view outside the window, and a warm feeling welled up in her heart.

"I've arranged for someone to wait for you at the airport entrance, holding a sign with your name on it. It'll be easy to spot."

His tone was reassuring and unquestionable: "Don't worry about your luggage. Airport staff will take it to your car. Just go find them."

"Okay," Shen Qingyao replied, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the phone case.

Meng Jiangyu had just changed it for her a few days ago; it had two kittens snuggling together printed on it.

"Oh, by the way," her voice softened, "Meng Jiangyu, thank you for your New Year's gift."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a low laugh: "Yaoyao, for me, giving you money is the easiest gift to give."

Shen Qingyao was stunned for a moment, then understood what he meant.

What requires effort is remembering her preferences, taking care of her emotions, and keeping her every word and action in mind.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was about to say something more when he added, "The temperature in Wuzhen is even lower than in northern Beijing, so be careful to keep warm!"

"Uh-huh!"

"I packed a cashmere pajama set for you in the suitcase. Wear it tonight, it shouldn't be cold!"

"good!"

"Message me when you get home."

"Okay."

After hanging up the phone, Shen Qingyao followed the flow of people out of the cabin.

A cold wind blew across Shen Qingyao's face, revealing the damp chill of Jiangnan.

The airport terminal was brightly lit, and from afar, a man in a black suit could be seen holding a sign that read "Shen Qingyao".

She walked over and identified herself, and the other person immediately nodded respectfully: "Miss Shen, the car is waiting outside, please follow me."

Just as Meng Jiangyu had said, the luggage had been properly packed by the staff and put directly into the car parked at the door.

The black van was clean and tidy, and the driver had already opened the door and was waiting.

The car drove smoothly away from the airport, heading towards home.

The night before the New Year was quiet. The lanterns along the roadside shone with a warm yellow light, outlining the contours of the small bridges and flowing water. The air was filled with dampness and the faint scent of blue bricks.

Shen Qingyao leaned against the car window, watching the familiar street scenes pass by little by little, and suddenly felt at ease.

Meng Jiangyu arranged everything perfectly, so she didn't have to worry about anything.

The car stopped very close to her house, and the driver helped her with her luggage.

"Ms. Shen, we'll be leaving now. Please feel free to contact us if you need anything."

Shen Qingyao thanked him and watched the car disappear into the night.

Hearing the noise outside, Dad opened the door. "Yaoyao!"

"dad!"

"Yaoyao's back!" Her mother greeted her with a smile, her eyes full of joy.

Shen Qingyao turned around and threw herself into her mother's arms: "Mom, I'm back."

The wintersweet in the yard was in full bloom and smelled wonderful. Her father took her suitcase and said with a smile, "Are you freezing? Come inside quickly."

"There's a lot more to come."

Mr. and Mrs. Shen looked back and exclaimed, "Why did you buy so much stuff?!"

"I bought it because it was on sale and cheap! It'll be perfect for when I visit relatives!"

Shen's mother scolded, "This child, she's wasting money again!"

"It's all the children's good intentions, we've already bought it!" said Mr. Shen from the side.

"Xizhou, get down and move some things!"

Shen Qingyao's younger brother put down his computer game and rushed downstairs. "Sis, you're finally back!"

"I've missed you so much!"

"How's your winter break homework going?"

"Sis, today is New Year's Eve! Let's talk about homework after the New Year!"

"Alright, whatever you say!"

"Let's go move things with Dad!"

"Alright! My Queen."

Shen Qingyao followed her mother into the house, where a warm and cozy atmosphere greeted her.

She took out her phone and sent a message to Meng Jiangyu: "I'm home. Everything is fine. Don't worry."

He quickly received a reply, just two words, but with his usual gentleness: "Okay."

Shen Qingyao looked at the screen, and couldn't help but smile.