Yingqu Liuzi was pampered by her wealthy daddy.

The week after the rain stopped, Shen Yu'an did not hide anymore.

On Monday morning, he appeared downstairs at the apartment building on time.

The black Rolls-Royce was parked in its usual spot, the rear window rolled down, and Caesar's face appeared in the morning light, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Shen Yu'an opened the car door and got in. He placed his art supply box at his feet, bowed his head, and said, "Good morning, sir."

The ears are red.

Xize didn't say "You've finally stopped hiding," nor did he ask "Have you figured it out?" He simply handed over a cup of warm black tea, just like every ordinary day before.

"Good morning."

Shen Yu'an took the cup, held it in his hands, and felt the warm porcelain wall under his fingertips. The sour feeling in his heart surged up again, because he felt at ease.

The car started and drove into the streets of London in the early morning.

Shen Yu'an took a couple of sips of tea and secretly glanced at the person next to him.

Today, Xize wore a dark charcoal suit, a light blue shirt, and a navy blue tie with subtle patterns, making him look more formal than usual.

"Sir, do you have an important meeting today?"

"Yes, there's one this afternoon." Xize paused, then turned to look at him. "I'll take you to do something first this morning."

"What is it?"

"Tailor-made. Make a suit."

Shen Yu'an was stunned for a moment, almost dropping the cup in his hand: "Make a suit? For me?"

"Um."

Why?

Xize looked at him, a faint smile in his gray-blue eyes: "Because you can't wear a white shirt to every event."

Shen Yu'an opened his mouth to refute, but then he remembered his previous experiences at the concert and art exhibition and shut his mouth.

He really doesn't have clothes suitable for formal occasions; he always wears a white shirt with casual pants, looking like he's wandered onto the wrong movie set.

"But suits are expensive, aren't they..." Shen Yu'an said softly.

Xize didn't answer the question, but simply said, "You'll know when we get there."

The car was parked in a quiet alley near Savile Row.

Shen Yu'an had heard of this street; it was London's most famous street for bespoke suits, a place where royalty and the upper class had their clothes made for centuries.

The street was quiet, with only a row of Georgian-style white buildings, their facades so understated that you could hardly tell they were tailor shops.

Xize led him into one of the buildings. There was no name on the door, only a small address and a gold-plated initial.

Pushing open the door, you enter a bright room with rows of sample suits standing against the wall, and the air filled with the faint scent of wool and cedar wood.

An elderly tailor with gray hair approached, dressed in an elegant vest and shirt, and wearing silver-rimmed glasses.

Upon seeing Caesar, he immediately gave him a respectful smile: "Mr. Leicester, you've arrived. Everything is ready."

Xize nodded slightly and stepped aside to let Shen Yu'an behind him pass.

"He's the main character today."

The old tailor turned his gaze to Shen Yu'an, looked him up and down for two seconds, and his eyes held a professional yet gentle scrutiny.

He nodded and smiled, saying, "This gentleman has excellent proportions; the finished product will surely be excellent."

Shen Yu'an was a little embarrassed by the praise and whispered "thank you".

The old tailor gestured for Shen Yu'an to stand on the platform in the center of the room.

It was a wooden platform about twenty centimeters high, covered with a dark carpet, and had full-length mirrors on three sides. Once you stood on it, you would be surrounded by mirrors.

Shen Yu'an took off her coat and stood up wearing only a thin sweater.

He was a little nervous and didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.

The old tailor took a roll of measuring tape from the shelf and walked over to Shen Yu'an to take his measurements. He was very professional, measuring and calling out the numbers as he went, while his assistant took notes beside him.

"Shoulder width...45 cm."

"Bust size... 86".

As Shen Yu'an listened to those numbers, she realized she was too thin.

He glanced furtively at Xize sitting on the sofa next to him. Xize was looking at him intently.

His eyes followed the old tailor's movements, moving over Shen Yu'an from top to bottom.

That gaze made Shen Yu'an's palms sweat.

After measuring Shen Yu'an's upper body, the old tailor squatted down to measure the length of his trousers and his waist. The measuring tape was wrapped around Shen Yu'an's waist, crossed behind him, and placed against the thinnest part of his waist.

"Waist measurement seventy-two," the old tailor repeated, then stood up and said to Xize, "This gentleman has a very standard build, just a bit too thin."

Xize nodded slightly: "When making it, choose a softer fabric, not too heavy, he's not used to wearing it."

"Of course, Mr. Lester. We have a new arrival of fabric from a century-old wool mill in Biella. It's very soft and would suit this gentleman's temperament perfectly. Would you like to come and take a look?"

Xize stood up and walked to Shen Yu'an's side.

The old tailor took several fabric samples from the shelf and laid them on the table next to him. Each piece of fabric was delicate and soft.

Shen Yu'an had never touched such fine fabric before, and when her fingertips touched it, she let out a soft "wow".

Xize glanced at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"Choose two colors," Caesar said. "One dark color for formal occasions, and one lighter color for everyday wear."

Shen Yu'an looked down at the fabrics, hesitated for a long time, and then pointed to the two pieces of charcoal gray and light gray.

"Are these two okay?"

Xize nodded and said to the old tailor, "Make the charcoal gray one with two buttons for a single-breasted style, and the light gray one with a double-breasted style."

The old tailor wrote it down and then turned to Shen Yu'an: "Sir, we need to take some more detailed measurements now. Please stand up straight and let your arms hang naturally."

Shen Yu'an stood on the platform again, and the old tailor began to take measurements.

When measuring his lower back, the soft measuring tape went around his waist, and the old tailor used his hand to measure the position on his waist.

"Sir, please lean forward slightly so I can measure the back length of your garment."

Shen Yu'an did as instructed, leaning slightly forward.

Just then, he sensed that someone had appeared behind him.

Not an old tailor.

The old tailor was to his right, measuring the cuff with a soft measuring tape. Standing behind him was Caesar.

Shen Yu'an saw the scene behind her in the dressing mirror in front of her.

Xize walked onto the stage at some point, his tall figure standing behind him, the two of them so close that there was almost no gap between them.

Shen Yu'an's shoulders only reached Xize's chest, and his entire figure was completely enveloped by Xize's shadow.

Shen Yu'an's heart suddenly raced.

"We need to confirm the collar height." Xize's voice came down from above, very low, so close that Shen Yu'an could feel his breath brushing against the top of his head as he spoke. "His neck is rather thin, so a collar that's too high will be uncomfortable for him."

The old tailor nodded and came over with a measuring tape.

But Xize didn't back away; he stood right behind Shen Yu'an, with almost no distance between them.

Shen Yu'an could feel the body temperature emanating from Xize, seeping through the two layers of clothing.

And there was that cedar scent. It was stronger than usual, and he was completely enveloped in it.

Shen Yu'an stood in front of the mirror, looking at the image reflected in it.

The tall British man stood behind the Eastern boy, his entire body obscured except for a clean-cut face.

The man's hand hung at his side, less than two fingers' width away from the boy's waist. It didn't touch him, but the distance was so close that it made it hard to breathe.

After taking the measurements for the collar, the old tailor went around to the front to measure the shoulder slope. Xize remained still.

He stood behind Shen Yu'an, head down, looking up at the boy's slightly reddened earlobes and the thin vein on the side of his neck.

Shen Yu'an could feel that gaze.

The feeling of being watched descended from the top of his head, sliding down the back of his neck like an invisible thread, binding him completely and rendering him immobile.

His ears were burning hot; he didn't even need to look in a mirror to know they were completely red.

"Sir," Shen Yu'an's voice was barely audible, as she looked into Xize's eyes in the mirror, "Could you... step back just a little bit?"

Xize looked at the boy's bright red ears and evasive gaze in the mirror, and a very faint smile flashed across his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Too close..." Shen Yu'an's voice became even softer, the last syllable almost disappearing in his throat.

Xize did not retreat.

He tilted his head slightly, close to Shen Yu'an's ear, and whispered in a voice so low that only the two of them could hear: "The tailor is still here, nothing will happen."

Shen Yu'an's ears were burning up completely, the red color spreading from the auricle to the earlobe.

The air was thick with ambiguity, stretched taut as if it might snap at any moment.

The old tailor and his assistant both kept their heads down, focused on the measuring tape and notebook in their hands, seemingly oblivious to the excessively close distance between them, demonstrating extremely high professionalism.

But Shen Yu'an still felt embarrassed.

He tried to take a small step forward to create some distance, but Caesar raised his hand at that moment and lightly tapped his lower back with his fingertips.

"Don't move." A voice came from above. "We're taking measurements."

Shen Yu'an froze.

The hand only lingered on his lower back for less than a second before withdrawing, but in that brief moment, the warmth of the fingertips seeped through the thin sweater and onto his skin, like a brand.

He dared not move again.

Shen Yu'an stood still.

He could feel the warmth of Xize's breath on the back of his neck. The scent of cedar was so strong that it made him feel a little dizzy.

The old tailor put away the measuring tape and said to Caesar, "Mr. Leicester, the measurements are all written down. We can try out the first rough pattern in about three weeks."

Xize nodded: "Contact me then."

"Yes, sir."

The old tailor and his assistant left the room with their notebooks, the door closing gently behind them. Only the two of them remained.

Shen Yu'an finally dared to make a move.

He stepped out from in front of Xize, walked off the platform, and his legs felt a little weak when his feet touched the flat ground.

He pretended to get his coat, turned his back to Xize, and touched his burning cheek with the back of his hand.

"You're blushing," Xize's voice came from behind.

Shen Yu'an's hand froze on his face, then he quickly lowered it, turned around, and said in a tone that seemed to say, "No, it's just that the room is too hot."

Xize looked at him but didn't expose him.

"Yes, it is a bit hot," he said, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather in London.

Shen Yu'an glared at him, a look that was a mixture of many emotions, a fierce yet soft gaze.

Looking into that gaze, Xize's smile deepened slightly.

"Let's go," he said, picking up Shen Yu'an's coat and handing it to her. "I'll take you to lunch."

Shen Yu'an took the coat and put it on, then followed Xize out of the tailor shop.

The cold wind of London swept over him, wiping away some of the heat from his face, but his heart was still pounding irrationally fast in his chest.

He walked beside Xize, half a step behind, and secretly glanced at the tall man beside him.

He has a calm expression and walks with long strides, but he will deliberately slow down to wait for him.

Just now in the tailor shop, I was standing behind him, so close to him.

They were so close that their breaths landed on his head.

Shen Yu'an tucked his hands into his sleeves, clenched the cuffs, and silently said to himself:

Sir, do you know that when you get too close to me, I can't breathe?

But he didn't say it.

Because he was afraid that if he spoke out, Xize would say—

"Then practice more, and you'll get even closer in the future."

Shen Yu'an was so frightened by the thought that he had imagined it that he quickly shook his head and banished the dangerous idea from his mind.

Xize looked down at him: "What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing," Shen Yu'an quickened her pace to catch up with him, "It's just that... London is so warm today."

Xize glanced at the gray sky and the wet rain on the ground, and said nothing.

The high temperature in London today is 7 degrees Celsius, with wind and a wind chill making it feel like less than 5 degrees Celsius.

It's not warm.

But Caesar didn't say.

Because he knew that the "warmth" the boy was referring to wasn't the weather.