Yingqu Liuzi was pampered by her wealthy daddy.

On the third day after moving into her new apartment, Shen Yu'an received an invitation from her husband.

It wasn't a text message, it was a phone call.

That afternoon, he was painting in the living room when his phone rang. The screen displayed the word "Sir". He paused for a moment, quickly put down his paintbrush, wiped his hands, and answered the phone.

"Feed?"

"Xiao An." A deep voice came from the other end of the phone, with a slightly electric quality, sounding even better than usual. "Are you free Saturday night?"

Shen Yu'an's heart skipped a beat: "Yes, yes."

"There's a private concert I'd like to take you with me. It's not a formal occasion, so don't be nervous."

Private concert.

Shen Yu'an had never participated in anything like this before. The biggest musical event he had ever attended in London was a school gala.

"Am I appropriate to go?" he asked softly. "What should I wear...?"

"You can wear anything." The other person's voice carried a hint of amusement. "You look good in anything."

Shen Yu'an's face flushed red, and she held her phone, unsure of what to say.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then another sentence was added: "Then it's settled. The driver will pick you up at six o'clock on Saturday afternoon."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Shen Yu'an sat on the sofa, her heart still racing.

Private concert.

What should he wear?

Shen Yu'an searched through her wardrobe and found that she had very few formal clothes to wear.

When he came to London, he mostly brought hoodies, jeans, and T-shirts, which were suitable for painting and going to school, and not many clothes for formal occasions.

He rummaged through the closet for a long time before finally finding a white shirt.

His mother had insisted on putting it in his suitcase before he came to London, saying, "In case there's any formal occasion, you can wear it."

The neckline has no fancy design; it's just the most ordinary kind.

He took it out and held it up against his body; it was a bit wrinkled and needed ironing.

As for pants, there's a pair of dark gray casual pants, not too formal but not too casual either.

Shen Yu'an hung up his shirt and pants, still feeling uncertain.

He sent his husband another message: "Can I wear a white shirt?"

The reply was quick: "Okay. Great."

Shen Yu'an read those four words several times, then held his phone to his chest, feeling a little more at ease.

It was a rare rainless day in London on Saturday evening.

Shen Yu'an took a shower at 5:30, ironed his shirt until it was wrinkle-free, changed into dark gray pants, and stood in front of the mirror looking at himself again and again.

The white shirt was tucked into the waistband of the pants, making the waist look very slim.

He unbuttoned one button at the collar, revealing his collarbone. He tidied his hair slightly, his bangs falling softly over his forehead, making him look neat and tidy.

The young man in the mirror was handsome and gentle, his skin glowing with a cool white light under the lamp.

He remembered his husband saying, "You look good in anything," and his ears turned red again.

At six o'clock sharp, the car downstairs arrived.

It was the same black Rolls-Royce, and the same quiet driver. Shen Yu'an grabbed her coat, went downstairs, got into the car, and found the back seat empty.

The gentleman is not here.

The driver said, "Sir asked me to pick you up first; he's waiting for you at the concert hall."

After driving for about half an hour, the car stopped in front of an inconspicuous building.

From the outside, the building looks unremarkable, almost to the point of being secretive. But the staff standing at the entrance are in uniform and wearing white gloves, so it's clear that this is no ordinary place.

The driver led him inside, through a corridor, and pushed open a heavy wooden door.

Behind the door is a small concert hall.

It's not big; it can probably seat one or two hundred people.

But every detail is exquisitely crafted—deep red velvet chairs, crystal chandeliers, classical murals on the walls, and a grand piano on the stage gleaming dimly under the lights.

Quite a few people had already arrived, mostly elderly British people, dressed smartly, with ladies wearing hats and men in suits.

They spoke in hushed tones, their manners elegant, the air filled with the scent of fine perfume.

Shen Yu'an stood at the door and suddenly realized he had come to the wrong place.

He glanced down at his white shirt, which looked out of place among the tailored suits and evening gowns.

Just as he was at a loss, a tall figure stepped out from the crowd.

Tonight, Caesar wore a dark charcoal-colored suit with an excellent cut that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

His tie was a deep burgundy, and his shirt was a gleaming white. His hair was combed more neatly than usual, revealing his full forehead and deep-set features.

Under the lights, he looked like he had stepped out of an old movie.

Shen Yu'an stared, somewhat stunned.

Xize walked up to him and looked down at him.

His grey-blue eyes swept over his white shirt from top to bottom, lingered on it for a moment, then looked up, a very faint smile playing on his lips.

"nice."

Just two words, but Shen Yu'an felt like his ears were on fire.

Xize naturally extended his hand, palm up, and looked at him without saying a word.

Shen Yu'an hesitated for a second before placing his hand on it.

The large hand immediately closed, completely enveloping his hand. The warmth of the palm transmitted through his skin.

Xize led him inside.

People around them cast all sorts of glances their way.

Someone looked at Xize, nodded politely, and glanced at the Eastern boy beside him.

Someone looked at Shen Yu'an, their gaze lingering on him for a moment, their eyes filled with curiosity and scrutiny.

An elderly woman in a dark green dress passed by, smiling at Caesar and saying, "Mr. Leicester, have you brought a friend tonight?"

Xize nodded slightly, his voice steady: "My guest."

There was no explanation of who he was, no extra words, but the phrase "my guest" was spoken so naturally, as if the appearance of this clean and well-behaved Eastern boy beside him was the most normal thing in the world.

The old woman's gaze fell on Shen Yu'an, and she smiled: "What a lovely child."

Shen Yu'an wasn't familiar with the social etiquette here and didn't know what to say, so he obediently nodded and whispered "Thank you."

The old woman smiled and walked away.

Xize led him to his seat.

Shen Yu'an noticed that several people were looking at them along the way.

No one lingered on him for long, but it was enough for him to realize how different he was from his surroundings.

Every piece of clothing worn by the people here seems to be custom-made from Savile Row; everything is exquisite.

And he, in an ordinary white shirt, stood there among them.

But Caesar's hand remained firmly in his, never letting go.

Their seats were in the middle of the second row, offering an excellent view.

Xize let him sit in the innermost seat, while he himself sat on the outer side. His tall figure was like a wall, blocking most of the view from others.

After taking his seat, Xize finally let go of his hands.

Shen Yu'an withdrew his hand and placed it on his knee, his fingertips still warm from the other person's touch.

He stole a glance at the person next to him. Xize's profile was turned to him, his features appearing particularly deep in the dim light, his eyelashes long and slightly drooping.

"Nervous?" Xize turned his head.

Shen Yu'an shook his head: "A little."

"Don't be afraid," Xize said in a low voice, barely audible to him. "I'm here."

Shen Yu'an's heart skipped a few beats.

He turned his gaze back to the stage and took a deep breath.

The concert officially began at 7:30.

Tonight's performance is Mozart's violin sonata.

The violinist was a young Chinese woman, and the piano accompanist was an elderly gentleman with gray hair.

The two worked together seamlessly, and the music flowed through the concert hall.

Shen Yu'an doesn't know much about classical music, but he likes to paint and knows what good things are.

When the third movement began, the violin sound suddenly became soft and gentle, like moonlight falling on the water.

Shen Yu'an listened intently, her eyes bright, her lips slightly parted, completely immersed in the music.

He didn't notice that the people next to him were watching him.

Xize turned his head and looked at the boy's clean profile.

The lights shone from the direction of the stage, softening the outline of his white shirt. His eyelashes cast a small shadow under his eyes, his nose was slightly upturned, and his lips were pale pink.

Very nice.

Very clean.

Unlike everyone else in the concert hall.

There was no jewelry, no bespoke suits, and no elaborate hairstyles or makeup.

Just a white shirt, a clean and tidy face, and a heart that quietly listens to music.

Xize looked at him for a few seconds, then looked away.

But the smile on his lips never faded.

During halftime, someone came over to greet Caesar.

He was a gentleman in his sixties who seemed to know Caesar well, and the two chatted for a few minutes.

The gentleman's gaze fell on Shen Yu'an, and he asked with a smile, "And this gentleman is?"

This time, Caesar didn't just say "my guest." He paused, his voice steady but earnest: "A very important friend."

Shen Yu'an's eyelashes trembled upon hearing these words.

A very important friend.

The gentleman nodded, asked no further questions, shook hands with Caesar, and left.

Before the second half began, Shen Yu'an whispered to Xize, "Am I... not suited for places like this?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Well... I think I'm dressed too casually." Shen Yu'an looked down at his white shirt, feeling a little embarrassed.

Xize turned around to face him, his gray-blue eyes serious.

You are dressed very well.

He paused for a moment, then said, "People here can wear anything, but you look best in a white shirt."

Shen Yu'an froze for a second, then lowered his head, his ears turning so red they looked like they could bleed.

The lights were dim, and the audience in the concert hall were talking in hushed tones. No one noticed that in the corner of the second row, a tall British nobleman was looking down at the Asian boy in a white shirt beside him with an unusually gentle gaze.

As the last piece of music ended, the entire audience erupted in applause.

Shen Yu'an clapped along, his palms turning slightly red.

When the event ended, Xize took his hand again and led him through the crowd to leave.

This time, Shen Yu'an was no longer nervous or uncomfortable.

He followed beside Xize. His entire body was hidden by that tall figure, with only half a shoulder and a section of his wrist visible.

Some people in the crowd turned around to look at them.

Mr. Leicester, who never brings any companions to social events, has a clean-cut Eastern boy by his side today.

It's very well-behaved, like a kitten being led out by its owner.

People glanced at them, but no one thought it was inappropriate.

Because the way that boy stood next to Caesar Lester made it seem like he was meant to be there.

Stepping out of the concert hall, a cold wind hit me.

Xize immediately took off his coat and draped it over Shen Yu'an's shoulders.

The coat was large, carrying his body heat and that familiar cedar scent, enveloping Shen Yu'an completely.

"Put them on," Caesar said, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Aren't you cold?

"It's not cold."

Shen Yu'an pulled her coat tighter, shrinking into the oversized dark suit jacket, revealing only her fair face and eyes.

Xize glanced down at him, his gaze lingering for a couple of seconds on the boy wrapped in his coat, before looking away.

The car was already waiting at the door.

After getting on the bus, Shen Yu'an finally took off her coat and returned it to him. Xize took it, casually draped it over the seat, and asked, "Did you enjoy the concert tonight?"

"I love it." Shen Yu'an nodded vigorously. "It's especially beautiful. The third movement, in particular, the violin's sound is so gentle."

"Mozart K.378, third movement," Caesar said. "If you like, there will be more next time."

Shen Yu'an looked at him, her eyes sparkling: "Will there be a next time?"

"Um."

"Then I'll wear this white shirt again."

Xize glanced at him, a very faint smile in his gray-blue eyes.

"it is good."

Outside the car window, the London nightscape slowly receded.

Shen Yu'an leaned back in her seat, still feeling the warmth of the coat on her body.

He glanced at the person next to him and found that Xize was looking out the window, the lines of his profile appearing and disappearing in the flickering streetlights.

Very handsome.

He was more handsome than anyone he had ever seen.

Shen Yu'an withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and couldn't suppress the smile on his lips.

Tonight was the most dreamlike night he had since arriving in London.