Character Introductions

Fei Du — 21 years old. The only son of a high-end luxury fashion magnate. A delicate soul raised behind gold-trimmed doors, in rooms that echo more than they speak. He dresses in soft cashmeres, always neat, always muted. Shy, observant, and emotionally distant to strangers, he hides his loneliness behind polite smiles. His world is tea sets, poetry books, classical music, and perfectly scheduled days. What he lacks is real connection — a friend, a lover, a reason to feel. 

Luo Wenzhou — 24 years old. The heir to a booming tech empire. Sharp-featured, sharper-tongued. Known in the business world for being ruthless, and known in darker circles for something else — though no one ever confirms what. Behind the cold businessman act is a man who secretly runs a lawful underground network, using his influence to protect and eliminate threats quietly. But outside all that? He flirts shamelessly, laughs like sin, and has a secret weakness for sweet, soft things — like Fei Du.

\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~

The rain had stopped just an hour before sunset, leaving the city drenched in gold and glass. Streetlamps blinked to life one by one, lighting up the polished sidewalks like a trail of stars. Outside a private five-star rooftop restaurant in the heart of the city, a black car pulled up. Out stepped a boy in dove-gray slacks and a soft cream cardigan over a silk shirt, his black hair neatly brushed to the side. He held a book in one hand — poetry, of course — and a small leather bag in the other.

Fei Du had arrived.

The maître d’(head waiter) bowed politely, ushering him inside where warm lighting and the faint hum of piano music welcomed him. The room smelled faintly of honeyed wood and fresh orchids. Waiters glided across the glossy floor like swans, each movement silent and rehearsed.

Fei was guided to a private room where his parents were already seated at a long lacquered table, sipping white tea. He bowed gently to them, took the seat beside his mother, and placed the book on the table.

He didn’t know who they were meeting. Only that it was important.

“Relax,” his father said kindly. “He’s just a friend’s son.”

Fei nodded, hands folded neatly in his lap.

Until the door opened.

Black boots. Dark gray tailored slacks. A sharp blazer over a black turtleneck, hair still slightly tousled from the wind. Luo Wenzhou entered like a gust of night air — confident, elegant, and effortlessly cool.

His eyes scanned the room — and stopped on Fei.

A blink. A smile. Then he walked forward and said in a tone like velvet, “You must be Fei Du. I’m Luo Wenzhou. Sorry I’m late. I had to convince three people to tell me your favorite flower.”

Fei blinked. “…What?”

Luo pulled a white camellia from his coat pocket and laid it gently beside Fei’s teacup.

Fei’s ears turned scarlet.

....

The dinner was filled with elegant food and formal conversation. Abalone soup, hand-folded dumplings, rice served with edible blossoms. But Fei hardly tasted any of it. Luo Wenzhou sat across from him, legs crossed, completely relaxed, sipping wine like he owned the entire city — which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth.

He kept glancing at Fei. Not the polite, brief kind. The intense kind that made Fei’s fingers curl tighter around his chopsticks.

“You like poetry?” Luo asked casually, after the adults had fallen into talk about mergers.

Fei nodded, trying not to meet his gaze. “Mostly… classical. Tang Dynasty poets.”

Luo smirked. “Soft voice. Classical taste. Blushes over flowers. You’re making this very hard for me, Fei Du.”

Fei looked up, confused. “Making what—?”

“Not falling for you immediately.”

Fei nearly dropped his spoon.

After dinner, while their parents stayed to discuss business, Fei stepped out to wait for the car. The night had turned breezy. Lights from the city sparkled below like scattered diamonds.

Luo followed a few steps behind.

“You cold?” he asked.

Fei didn’t answer, but he shivered slightly. A heartbeat later, Luo slid off his blazer and placed it over Fei’s shoulders without asking.

“It suits you,” he said with a small grin. “But then again, I think everything would suit you.”

Fei’s heart flipped.

He clutched the lapels of the coat and whispered, “Why are you being nice to me?”

Luo’s grin softened. He leaned in, not too close, but enough to be felt.

“Because I like nice things,” he murmured. “And you’re the nicest I’ve met in a long time.”

That night, Fei sat on his bed in his oversized cardigan, Luo’s blazer still folded nearby, a single white camellia placed gently in a vase.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: “You looked really cute trying to hide behind your teacup. Let’s meet again soon — without our parents next time.”

Fei stared at the screen. Then he smiled.

For once, his quiet world didn’t feel so lonely.

[End of Chapter 1]

\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~

\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~

Next day--

The bookstore was hidden behind ivy-covered walls and the soft rustling of wind-touched branches. It was the kind of place only someone like Fei Du would find — tucked away from the world, quiet and timeless. Inside, it smelled like pressed paper, aged leather, and faint traces of jasmine tea. Fei was standing in the poetry section, his fingers gently brushing the edges of a worn anthology, when the bell above the door chimed softly.

He didn’t look up right away.

But the sudden warmth crawling up his neck told him exactly who had just entered.

Luo Wenzhou’s voice followed a beat later, smooth and familiar. "Didn’t expect to see you here. Though... I guess fate keeps doing me favors."

Fei finally turned. Luo stood there in a casual brown jacket, no tie, hair still a little messy like he hadn’t tried too hard — and still somehow looked perfect. Fei’s heart did something strange, something too fast.

“You followed me,” Fei said quietly, half-accusing, half-flustered.

Luo raised a brow. “Would I do that?” Then, with a smirk, “Yes.”

Fei opened his mouth to reply, closed it, then glanced down. He was still holding Luo’s jacket.

“You kept it,” Luo said, stepping closer, not unkind. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see it again.”

Fei hesitated. “I meant to return it.”

“You didn’t have to.” Luo’s voice was quieter now. “It looked good on you.”

They didn’t say much more as they wandered toward the small café in the back of the shop. It was quiet — just the clink of cups and the soft hum of an old radio playing something mellow. They found a table by the window, just big enough for two.

Fei ordered jasmine tea. Luo asked for black coffee, no sugar this time.

For a while, they sat in a comfortable kind of silence. It wasn’t awkward, just unsure. Like neither of them knew how close to sit or how much to say.

“I don’t usually…” Fei began, watching the steam curl from his cup. “I don’t meet people like this.”

Luo nodded slowly, watching him. “Me neither.”

Fei looked up, surprised. “You seem like you do.”

“I seem like a lot of things,” Luo replied. He leaned back slightly, eyes still on Fei. “But I’ve never sat in a bookstore café with someone I barely know and wanted to stay longer than I should.”

That made Fei go quiet again, cheeks tinged with pink.

“I still don’t get why you’re being kind to me,” he said softly.

Luo thought for a moment, then reached across the table. Not to hold Fei’s hand — not yet — but just to nudge the edge of his cup into place.

“Because I see you,” he said. “And because I think you might be the kind of person worth knowing slowly.”

Fei's fingers curled slightly around his cup. Something in his chest felt warm and slow and new.

They didn’t hold hands. They didn’t touch. But when they walked out of the bookstore side by side, it was clear — something had shifted.

[End of Chapter 2]

\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~