Yingqu Liuzi was pampered by her wealthy daddy.

The rain in London can start anytime, anywhere.

When Shen Yu'an came out of the art studio, it was already completely dark outside. He glanced at his phone; it was 11:03 PM, and the last subway had just left ten minutes earlier.

He stood on the steps leading to the studio, the cold wind and rain hitting his face, making him shrink back. His sweatshirt was thin, and even with the hood up, the wind blew right through it.

He didn't bring an umbrella.

The weather was fine when I went out, just a bit overcast. Who would have thought it would suddenly rain so heavily?

Shen Yu'an hugged his art supply box to his chest and ran towards the bus stop across the street, bending over. The bus stop had a small eaves that could barely keep out the rain.

By the time he arrived, his hair was half-soaked, water droplets dripping down his bangs. He wiped his face, then squatted down against a pillar on the platform, curling himself into a ball.

There weren't many people on the street.

It was already quite late, and with the rain, there were hardly any cars passing by. The streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, making the raindrops gleam. The whole street was deserted, with only the rain continuing to fall.

Shen Yu'an took out his phone to call a taxi, but the app showed that there were no cars nearby. He waited for five minutes, but there was still no movement.

He tried calling a fare-charging car again, but still no one answered.

He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket.

Having lived in London for several years, I've actually had my share of embarrassing moments like this.

When you're alone out in the world, you have to shoulder everything on your own. If you're sick, you have to buy your own medicine; when you move, you have to carry your own boxes; and if it rains, you have to find your own way home.

There's nothing to complain about; it was all my own choice.

He shrank his legs and hugged his art supply box even tighter. Inside were his half-finished artwork from today, and it would be a problem if they got wet.

A cold wind blew by, and he shivered again.

He was thinking about whether to message a classmate he knew well for help, but then he felt it was too late.

Just as he was hesitating, a car headlight turned around from the street corner.

The car drove slowly, gliding quietly across the wet asphalt, and finally stopped in front of him.

Shen Yu'an paused for a moment, then looked up.

The car was painted black with simple lines, and he recognized the Rolls-Royce logo on the front.

It wasn't because he knew a lot about cars, but because the logo was so famous; he'd seen it in movies many times.

He instinctively moved to the side, assuming the other person had only stopped temporarily.

But the rear window slowly rolled down.

Rainwater drifted into the car, and Shen Yu'an saw a face.

That face was so beautiful it seemed unreal.

The other person was clearly white, with deep-set bones, high brow bones, a straight nose, and slightly sunken eye sockets. His gray-blue eyes looked particularly deep under the streetlights.

With thin lips slightly pursed and a clean-cut jawline, her face was devoid of any superfluous expression, exuding an innate air of nobility.

He was wearing a dark suit, his tie was neatly tied, and his shirt was buttoned up to the top. His hair was dark blond, combed very neatly, without a single strand out of place.

He looked like the kind of upper-class person who didn't have to worry about anything.

Shen Yu'an looked at him for two seconds before looking away, lowering his head, not daring to stare at him.

"Do you need any help?"

The other party spoke.

His voice was low, with standard British pronunciation, and he pronounced each word clearly, which sounded very polite.

Shen Yu'an quickly shook his head: "No need, no need, I'm waiting for the car."

As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew the rain off his hoodie, and the rain hit his neck directly, making him shiver.

The people in the car didn't speak, they just looked at him.

Shen Yu'an could feel that gaze, not very intense, just quietly looking at his wet hair and frozen white fingers.

"I can't get a ride at this hour. I'm not a scammer," the other person said.

He looked at the people in the car. He opened his mouth as if to say something in rebuttal, but his phone couldn't find a car, and he couldn't keep up the act.

"The rain won't stop, I'll take you."

It was still that calm tone, not like a discussion or an order, but more like, "I'll help you out, it's no big deal."

Shen Yu'an hesitated.

He had lived in England for several years and knew that strangers here don't strike up conversations with each other, let alone let people get on their cars.

But the person in front of him gave him a strange feeling; he was too serious, so serious that it was hard to refuse him. He certainly didn't seem like a conman, because he was just a student and didn't have any money for someone to scam.

And he was really almost frozen.

"Then... then I'll trouble you." Shen Yu'an stood up, his legs were a little numb, he leaned against the wall to steady himself, and bowed slightly towards the car window.

The person inside the car nodded slightly, turned their head and said something to the driver, and the car door opened from the inside.

Shen Yu'an carried his art supplies box inside and was immediately enveloped by the warm air conditioning.

The warmth wasn't from the sudden hot air blown out by the air conditioner, but rather from the entire carriage maintaining a very comfortable temperature, neither cold nor dry.

The car smelled nice too.

It's not a strong perfume scent, but a very light and sophisticated woody fragrance, like cedar, with a hint of leather. It makes you feel at ease.

After Shen Yu'an sat down, he realized that he was soaking wet. Afraid of getting the chair dirty, he only dared to sit on half of it, keeping his body tense and trying not to touch the leather surface of the chair.

He also held the art supply box in his arms, making sure it didn't touch anything.

The car was quiet, with only the muffled sound of rain hitting the roof.

"address."

A deep voice came from the side.

Shen Yu'an gave the name of the apartment and the street, her voice not loud and slightly nasal.

The other person spoke a few words to the driver, speaking very quickly, and Shen Yu'an only understood a few words.

The car started moving smoothly, so quietly that the engine was almost inaudible.

Shen Yu'an secretly glanced to the side.

The other person was sitting on the other side, in a relaxed posture, leaning back in the seat with their long legs slightly crossed.

He had broad shoulders, and his suit accentuated his good figure. Compared to Shen Yu'an, who was huddled up next to him, they seemed like people from two different worlds.

Shen Yu'an silently withdrew his gaze, feeling that his experience tonight was quite outrageous.

In the dead of night, on a rainy day, I was picked up by a stranger driving a Rolls-Royce. If I told my roommate this, he would definitely think I was making it up.

Are you Chinese?

The person next to them spoke up again.

Shen Yu'an turned his head and found that the other person had turned their gaze toward him at some point.

The expression in his grey-blue eyes was hard to discern in the dim light inside the car, but the feeling of being watched was very clear.

"Yes, I'm an international student from China," Shen Yu'an answered honestly.

Which school?

London College of the Arts.

"What major should you study?"

"Fine arts is simply drawing."

Shen Yu'an felt a little embarrassed after speaking, feeling that mentioning his painting skills in front of such a person was like showing off his limited knowledge.

The other person looks like someone with a top-notch education; they might even have genuine works hanging on their walls at home.

"Do you like drawing?"

"Yes, I like it very much." Shen Yu'an nodded, his tone a little more serious than before.

The other party nodded slightly and didn't ask anything more.

After a few seconds of silence, Shen Yu'an felt he should say something, since the other person had kindly offered to take him home.

"Thank you so much today. If it weren't for you, I might have had to wait by the roadside for a long time."

"You're welcome." The other person's tone was indifferent. "It's so late, it's not safe for you to be out alone."

Shen Yu'an felt a warmth in his heart upon hearing this.

Few people would say such things to him in a foreign land.

My family lives too far away, so I don't dare to say too much when I call them, for fear of worrying them.

He hadn't heard the word "unsafe" in a long time.

The car fell silent again.

Shen Yu'an secretly glanced at the person next to her several times.

He noticed that the other person's hands were very beautiful, with distinct knuckles, long fingers, and a silver ring on the index finger with intricate patterns engraved on it.

That hand rested casually on her knee, quiet and beautiful.

Shen Yu'an couldn't help but take a few more glances, and then he was caught red-handed.

"What are you looking at?"

The other person turned around, their gray-blue eyes carrying a very faint smile.

Shen Yu'an's face flushed instantly, and she quickly looked away, saying, "I... I wasn't looking at anything."

He heard a soft laugh from beside him, not a mocking laugh, but rather the kind that sounded a little amusing.

Shen Yu'an's ears turned even redder, and she buried her head even lower, wishing she could bury herself inside her art supply box.

About twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of Shen Yu'an's apartment building.

It was a rather old residential building, with blackened brickwork on the exterior walls, creating a stark contrast with the luxury car behind it.

Shen Yu'an opened the car door, and a cold wind carrying rain rushed in, making him shiver.

"Thank you for bringing me back." He got out of the car carrying his art supplies box and turned to say to the person inside the car window.

The other person nodded slightly, their voice low: "Go home early, don't catch a cold."

Shen Yu'an hummed in agreement and turned to run towards the apartment entrance.

After running a couple of steps, I heard that voice again behind me.

"Wait a moment."

Shen Yu'an turned around.

The car window was still open, and rainwater drifted in, hitting the man's dark suit.

But he seemed completely unconcerned, and simply took out a long-handled black umbrella from the side and handed it over.

"Here, so you don't get wet in the rain."

Shen Yu'an was taken aback for a moment, then quickly waved his hand: "No need, no need, I'm already here, I'll just run a few steps—"

"Take it."

Just two words, spoken in such a calm tone, yet it made it impossible for anyone to refuse.

Shen Yu'an had no choice but to jog back and take the umbrella with his frozen hands.

When our fingertips touched, they were warm. Completely different from his own icy hands. A trace of warmth lingered on the umbrella handle; I couldn't tell if it was from the car's heater or the other person's body heat.

Shen Yu'an's heart suddenly skipped a beat, and he didn't know why.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, gripping the umbrella handle.

The person inside the car nodded slightly, and the car window slowly rolled up, blocking out that cold and deep face.

Shen Yu'an stood in the rain, holding the umbrella, watching the black Rolls-Royce drive away quietly, its taillights slowly turning into a blurry red dot in the rain and mist.

He stood there for a while until the cold wind woke him up before turning around and going upstairs.

The old building wasn't very soundproof, and he was worried about disturbing the neighbors. Even though he was often disturbed by the noise.

But Shen Yu'an still quietly closed the door, placed the art supply box in the corner, and opened the black umbrella to dry in the bathroom. She would return it to that man when she had the chance.

The room was cold.

London nights get cool after autumn arrives, but this chill feels strange; it's damp and cold, as if a chill is seeping from the walls.

He touched the radiator next to him.

It's cold.

There was no heat at all.

Shen Yu'an sighed, squatted down to check the heating valve, turned it twice, but there was no response.

He tried turning the valve to its maximum, but after a few minutes, the radiator was still cold.

broken.

It wasn't very hot a few days ago, and he mentioned it to the landlord, who said he would send someone to fix it, but nothing ever happened. Now it's completely cool.

Shen Yu'an stood up and rubbed his arms.

His hoodie was still wet; he'd been so focused on changing his shoes when he came in that he'd forgotten to change his clothes. A gust of cold wind blew, and he shivered.

He quickly rummaged through the closet for a dry set of loungewear to change into, and then found a pair of thick socks to put on.

But the cold in the room can't be solved by just wearing an extra layer of clothing; the cold seeps in, and if you stay there for too long, your bones will feel cold.

Shen Yu'an glanced at his phone; it was 12:30 a.m.

Send a message to the landlord? The landlord is probably asleep by now, so they won't reply anyway.

Even if we find someone to fix it tomorrow, we still have to get through tonight.

He thought for a moment, then wrapped the thin blanket on the bed around himself, went to the living room and rummaged through the storage cabinet, finding a blanket he had bought when he first came to London. It was thin, but better than nothing.