The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

As dusk completely soaked through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights of the Bund meandered into a flowing golden river, bathing the carpet of the presidential suite in a warm glow.

The butler pushed in a food cart, the silver cutlery clinking softly. Champagne sat in an ice bucket, a lobster tail was cut open and garnished with caviar, and cream of mushroom soup was still steaming.

He arranged the exquisite cold and hot dishes on the long table, poured decanted champagne for the two of them, and bowed before leaving.

The door clicked shut, and Shen Qingyao tried to get up, but her legs trembled as if they were going to give way.

Meng Jiangyu looked up at the sound, a hint of a smile still lingering in his eyes.

Like rain after a long drought, Meng Jiangyu was indeed somewhat out of control.

He bent down and lifted her up in his arms, his hands supporting her knees, his fingertips brushing against her flushed skin, causing her to flinch.

"Baby, still not recovered?" He chuckled, his voice hoarse from their lovemaking, and deliberately rubbed her weak knees with his fingertips.

Shen Qingyao's cheeks burned, and she gently punched his shoulder, her eyes glistening with tears: "It's all your fault..."

Meng Jiangyu did not refute, but carried her to the dining table and carefully placed her on a dining chair with a velvet cushion.

"Honey, I'm the one doing all the moving, how come you're so tired?"

"Your stamina isn't up to par. You'll have to exercise with me next time!"

"don't want!"

His fingertips brushed against the corner of her lips, his eyes darkening: "Then when we're making love, you can be on top."

Shen Qingyao covered her ears, "I won't listen! I won't listen!"

He tidied her disheveled hair, then picked up a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of warm mushroom soup, blowing on it to cool it before bringing it to her lips: "Drink some soup to fill your stomach first!"

Shen Qingyao sipped the soup, the warmth spreading from her throat to her heart. She looked up at him, her eyelashes still wet.

She looked up at Meng Jiangyu beside her. He was slowly and methodically cutting the steak on his plate, his well-defined hands holding the silver knife with movements that were incredibly elegant.

Such a man is indeed very attractive.

Meng Jiangyu noticed her gaze, looked up and chuckled, forking a small piece of steak and bringing it to her lips. "What's wrong? Have you fallen for me?"

Shen Qingyao opened her mouth and took it in. The tender meat, mixed with the aroma of black pepper, spread in her mouth. She chewed with her cheeks puffed out, like a little squirrel. "No!"

Meng Jiangyu's heart softened at the sight, and he reached out to wipe the sauce from the corner of her mouth. How could there be such an adorable little thing?

Meng Jiangyu put down his knife and fork, leaned closer to her, and gently stroked her cheek with his fingertips, his eyes full of laughter: "Baby, are we going to the Oriental Pearl Tower again tonight?"

Her voice still had a lingering nasal tone, "I'm not going."

He lowered his voice slightly, with a hint of ambiguity, "That's right, keeping the baby company and letting him rest and recharge is more beautiful than any scenery."

Shen Qingyao's face instantly turned red, and she reached out to push his shoulder.

Meng Jiangyu chuckled and pinched the girl's cheek, pretending to look at her with interest. "What are you thinking about? Why are you blushing?"

"No!" Shen Qingyao was about to push Meng Jiangyu's hand away, but he grabbed her wrist and gently kissed it.

The river breeze outside the window carried the neon lights, casting a gentle halo on their clasped hands.

After they took a shower, Meng Jiangyu held her and sat her on the sofa by the French windows.

She nestled in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingertips unconsciously tugging at the ties of his pajamas.

His palm was placed on her lower back, patting her gently, his movements as tender as if he were soothing a child.

"Look over there," Shen Qingyao raised her hand, her fingertips gently pointing out the window, "The lights on the yacht are so bright."

Meng Jiangyu followed her finger and looked into the shimmering river: "Want to go up and play?"

"No!" Shen Qingyao immediately shook her head.

Meng Jiangyu continued to press the insecure girl, "Why?"

"I like looking at the scenery," she snuggled closer to him, her voice softening, "but I don't like standing on it and becoming part of the scenery in other people's eyes."

Meng Jiangyu gently stroked the top of her head with his fingertips: "Why don't you like standing in the spotlight?"

Shen Qingyao was silent for a few seconds before speaking in a muffled voice, her tone timid: "Because I always feel that I'm not good enough, and I feel flustered, afraid that I might lose face if I'm not careful."

"So you want to, but you're just too afraid!" Meng Jiangyu didn't rush to comfort her. He gently hooked his fingertips around hers, stroking her knuckles. His voice, warm with the night, casually asked, "Then what do you think constitutes excellence?"

"At the very least... you should be able to speak confidently and act poised, mature, and composed in front of everyone." Shen Qingyao's voice lowered, her fingertips curling slightly, carrying a hint of uncertainty.

Meng Jiangyu looked down at her, his eyes sparkling with tiny stars, and said earnestly with a hint of persuasion, "No one is born outstanding. They all grow step by step through hard work and refinement."

Shen Qingyao looked up into his eyes and softly asked, "Are you the same?"

"Of course." Meng Jiangyu chuckled, his fingertips gently brushing her hair. "The first time I stood under the spotlight, my palms were sweaty and I was very nervous, but I pretended to be confident."

He held her hand, the warmth of his palm soothing her slightly cool skin, his tone carrying just the right amount of encouragement: "Only by taking the first step can there be any possibility of progress. First, try to be able to stand in the spotlight without showing any fear; then you can develop a path dependency."

"Baby," he leaned down, his forehead gently touching hers, his voice deep and tender, "Life is for yourself, don't look at other people's standards. As long as you've taken a small step forward today compared to yesterday, that's enough."

Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he added, "Don't limit yourself."

"Besides," Meng Jiangyu chuckled, his tone teasing yet reassuring, "there aren't that many spectators in life. Everyone is busy living their own lives; who's going to keep an eye on what other people do?"

Finally, he raised his hand, his fingertips gently tracing the tip of her nose, his eyes filled with a soft light, his tone gentle yet solemn: "Baby, excellence is never about living for others to see; it's about feeling comfortable and worthwhile yourself, and that's enough."

"And even if you don't perform well, so what? I'll always be there to support you. Just keep pushing forward."

Shen Qingyao looked at him, the confusion in her eyes dissipating little by little, like a thin mist blown by the evening breeze.

"It seems...that makes sense," she muttered to herself.

Shen Qingyao snuggled closer to him: "Then... shall we go on a yacht trip tomorrow?"

Meng Jiangyu raised an eyebrow, teasing her deliberately, "Aren't you afraid of becoming a spectacle in other people's eyes?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she still mustered her courage and nodded: "With you here, I'm not afraid."

Meng Jiangyu hugged Shen Qingyao and kissed her: "My darling, you're amazing! Perfect execution!"

The river breeze outside the window occasionally carried the chirping of cicadas, and the room was so quiet that only the overlapping breaths of the two people could be heard.