Yingqu Liuzi was pampered by her wealthy daddy.

Shen Yu'an's legs went weak so suddenly that she fell forward.

He didn't fall to the ground.

A pair of arms caught him steadily.

Xize moved quickly; the medical kit and bag landed simultaneously with a dull thud, and he grabbed Shen Yu'an's shoulders with both hands, pulling him into his arms.

Shen Yu'an's face collided with Xize's chest, and the tip of her nose touched the wool fabric of his coat, which felt a little prickly.

His body was burning hot, like a small furnace; you could feel the abnormal heat even through his clothes.

Xize put one arm around his waist and the other hand on his forehead.

When his palm touched the burning hot skin, Xize frowned slightly.

It's very hot. It's more serious than he thought.

"Xiao An," he called softly, his voice steady, "Can you walk?"

Shen Yu'an was in a daze, her ear pressed against Xize's chest, hearing his heartbeat, thump thump thump, fast and strong.

He thought the sound was beautiful, even better than the violin at last night's concert.

"Hmm..." he mumbled in response, but he couldn't stand steadily at all. He was as soft as a puddle of water and only managed to stay upright thanks to Xize's arm.

Xize didn't ask any more questions.

He bent down, slipped one hand under Shen Yu'an's knees, and lifted him up horizontally.

Shen Yu'an suddenly leaped into the air and instinctively grabbed Xize's collar, his fingers clenching tightly.

"It's alright," Xize's voice came from above. "Just hold me tight."

He carried the person through the door, hooked the door shut with his heel, and strode towards the bedroom.

The dark gray slippers made almost no sound as they stepped on the floor, with only the hem of the coat swaying gently with each step.

Shen Yu'an curled up in his arms, very light. At just over 1.7 meters tall, because of his small frame and thin body, he felt almost weightless when he was held.

Xize looked down at the little person in his arms whose face was flushed red from the fever, and a trace of heartache flashed in his gray-blue eyes.

The bedroom light was turned on by Shen Yu'an before he left the house and hadn't been turned off since.

Xize placed the person on the bed very gently, as if he were placing a fragile item on it.

The moment Shen Yu'an's back hit the mattress, his fingers loosened their grip on Xize's collar, but quickly grabbed his cuff again, refusing to let go.

"Sweetie, loosen your grip for a moment, I'll go get a towel," Xize coaxed him softly.

Shen Yu'an was delirious with fever and didn't understand much. He just instinctively grabbed the cuff of the sleeve, refusing to let the person leave.

Having no other choice, Xize used his other hand to pry open Shen Yu'an's fingers one by one. With each finger he pried open, he felt a tickle in his heart from those slender fingers.

He quickly went to the bathroom.

The first-aid kit was left in the entryway, but Caesar had already considered all sorts of scenarios before he arrived.

He found Shen Yu'an's face towel in the bathroom, turned on the tap to cold water, soaked the towel, and wrung it out until it was half dry.

The towel was light blue with a cartoon bear printed on it. It looked like something he would use.

Xize took the teddy bear towel back to the bedside and sat down on the edge of the bed.

The mattress sank slightly under his weight. Shen Yu'an sensed the movement and snuggled closer to him, without opening his eyes.

Xize folded a cool towel into a long strip and gently placed it on Shen Yu'an's forehead.

The cool touch against the burning skin made Shen Yu'an hum in response, his brow furrowing slightly before relaxing.

The coolness seeped into his forehead, reducing the burning sensation somewhat. He felt a little more comfortable and curled up deeper into the blankets.

Xize sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him.

The boy's face was flushed red, his lips were dry and chapped, and his eyelashes trembled from time to time, like a butterfly flapping its wings.

His breathing is a bit heavy, his voice is very nasal, and he coughs occasionally, but the sound is not loud and is muffled.

His hair was soaked with sweat, and his bangs were plastered to his forehead, making his face look even smaller.

Xize reached out and gently brushed aside the hair on his forehead. His fingertips touched the damp strands of hair and paused at the hairline, feeling the lingering warmth on his skin.

He noticed that Shen Yu'an had somehow stretched his hand out from under the covers, resting it on the edge of the bed, his fingers slightly curled, as if trying to grab something.

He hesitated for a moment, then reached out his hand and gently touched Shen Yu'an's fingertip with his index finger.

Shen Yu'an's fingers immediately closed and grasped it, as if sensing something.

Those slender, white fingers encircled Xize's hand, their thumbs pressing on his knuckles, their palms against the pads of Xize's fingers.

Shen Yu'an's hands were very hot, her palms were sweaty and damp, and the heat was transmitted through her skin to Xize's hands.

Xize froze.

It's not that he's never been touched before. He's used to handshakes, cheek kisses, and small talk in social situations.

But no one had ever held his hand like that before.

It's a dependency.

It's the kind of dependence that comes without warning, a dependence that feels all the more real because it's unconscious.

Shen Yu'an's hands were too small; they were even having a hard time encircling Xize's wrist. Looking at those few fingers, Xize felt his heart pounding uncontrollably.

He took a deep breath, trying to slow his heartbeat.

Useless.

Shen Yu'an seemed to sense something, and tightened her grip, pulling Xize's hand towards herself. Unable to budge, she gave up and instead rubbed the back of Xize's hand back and forth a couple of times.

The movement was too light, like a kitten's paw patting on the skin.

Xize's ears started to burn.

His expression remained calm, even expressionless.

But the earlobes gradually turned pink from the edges, then deep red, and finally even the earlobes turned completely red.

Fortunately, there was only one bedside lamp in the bedroom, and the light was dim and not too bright.

Xize remained motionless, his right hand held by Shen Yu'an, and his left hand resting on his knee.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his tall figure casting a shadow on the wall, almost taking up half of it.

The person on the bed was wrapped in a light blue blanket, a small bundle that contrasted sharply with the huge shadow cast on the wall.

Time passed second by second.

Xize would gently pull his hand away every fifteen minutes, but each time Shen Yu'an would subconsciously tighten his fingers, so he would give up and continue to let him hold on.

I reapplied the hot compress to his forehead. I also gave him his medicine.

He ran back and forth to the bathroom more than a dozen times, his dark gray sweater cuffs getting wet from the splashes, but he didn't care at all.

Around 3 a.m., Shen Yu'an's fever spiked, and he started talking incoherently.

"Mom... I'm not going back... I haven't finished my homework yet..." Her voice was muffled and trembling with tears.

Xize lowered his head and leaned closer to listen, but he couldn't hear the next few sentences clearly, only catching one word.

"...It's so cold."

Xize immediately pulled the blanket up and wrapped it around Shen Yu'an's shoulders.

Still feeling it wasn't enough, he glanced at the foot of the bed, where a light camel-colored cashmere blanket was draped over a chair.

He pulled the blanket over with one hand, covered the quilt with it, and then carefully tucked all the corners of the quilt in.

After doing all that, he sat back down, his right hand still being held by Shen Yu'an.

At four o'clock in the morning, Shen Yu'an's body temperature began to slowly drop.

My forehead wasn't as hot anymore, and my breathing was more even, no longer as rapid and heavy as before.

He turned over, facing Xize, curled up in a ball, one hand still holding Xize's hand, the other hand hugging the corner of the pillow, his lips slightly pursed, sleeping soundly.

Xize looked at him, his gaze going from top to bottom, from his forehead to his chin, from his eyelashes to his collarbone.

He recalled that rainy night when they first met, the boy huddled under the eaves on the street like an abandoned kitten.

That night he asked himself why he would make an exception for a stranger.

Now he knows.

Because he is Shen Yu'an.

There is only one Shen Yu'an in the world.

It was past five in the morning, and it was still dark.

London outside the window was still dark, with only the distant streetlights casting a dim yellow light.

Occasionally a car would drive by, its sound distant and muffled.

Xize's phone vibrated; it was a message from his assistant asking if they should cancel today's morning meeting.

He typed with his left hand: "Cancel".

After sending the message, I put my phone on the bedside table and looked back at the person on the bed.

Shen Yu'an's eyelashes trembled, but he didn't wake up. His fingers were still on Xize's hand, and because the fever had subsided a bit, his palm wasn't so hot anymore.

Xize looked down at his right hand.

Several faint red marks were imprinted on the spot where Shen Yu'an had gripped it, from the force of his grip.

He must feel uncomfortable.

But he didn't.

Caesar Leicester, 30, heir to the Leicester family, and the unassuming figure of London's high society, was sitting on the bedside of a 21-year-old Chinese student, held by a small, feverish hand, having not slept a wink all night.

His ears were still red.

It went viral from 2 a.m. until 6 a.m.

At 6:10, the sky began to lighten.

Shen Yu'an's fever has basically subsided.

Xize changed the towel one last time, reached out and touched his forehead, then his neck and palms, and only after confirming that his temperature was normal did he finally lean back against the headboard and relax a little.

Shen Yu'an woke up briefly at this moment.

Not fully awake, but drifting from deep sleep to light sleep, with eyelids barely open.

He vaguely saw a tall shadow by the bed, with gray-blue eyes looking at him, and a face so beautiful it seemed unreal.

He thought he was still dreaming.

"Sir..." he called out in a hoarse voice, his voice barely audible.

Xize lowered his head and moved closer to him: "Hmm?"

Shen Yu'an didn't say anything because he had fallen asleep again.

But the hand that was holding Xize's fingers gently squeezed Xize's hand before he fell asleep.

The force was so light that if Xize hadn't been paying close attention, he wouldn't have felt it at all.

But Xize sensed it.

He didn't feel the force on his fingers; it felt like his heart had been violently struck by something.

Xize closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

Its daybreak.

Shen Yu'an's fever has subsided.

His ears haven't shrunk yet.

He looked down at the person curled up in a small ball on the bed, his voice very soft, as if afraid of waking him:

"Sleep well, Xiao An. I'm here."