Kihyeon’s cheeks had taken on a most remarkable hue, glowing crimson as though he were a prawn freshly lifted from boiling water. He tugged at the hem of his jacket and folded his arms across his chest, an awkward attempt to compose himself.
“Kihyeon, are you quite well?” Tian inquired, concern evident in his tone. “You’re terribly red.”
With a gentleness that bespoke genuine worry, Tian placed a hand upon Kihyeon’s brow, testing for fever. Yet the skin was cool to the touch—clammy, in fact—and glistened with perspiration rather than heat.
Kihyeon lowered his gaze, the very picture of a chastened pup caught in the act of mischief and awaiting his master’s rebuke. Seeing this, Tian withdrew his hand and stepped back a pace or two, his expression softening.
“If you insist on standing there like a statue, I shall go in without you,” he said at last, and with that, Tian turned and strode into the restaurant, leaving Kihyeon alone.
“Table number twenty-five, fifth floor, under the name of Tian,” the waiter repeated, his fingers rustling briskly through the reservation ledger. A soft shuffle of paper, then a satisfied nod. “Ah, here it is. Please, this way.”
He opened the door with a courteous motion.
Just as Tian was about to step through, a hand caught his arm. “Tian, may I still dine with you?” asked Kihyeon, his voice hesitant yet hopeful. His eyes shone with such earnest brilliance that they seemed almost to plead on their own, like those of a small hound begging for affection.
Tian paused, a faint chuckle escaping him. “Pfft, yes, of course you may.” The corner of his lips curled into a smile as he drew Kihyeon gently by the arm, leading him into the restaurant.
As they made their way through the restaurant, their hands remained clasped, not once parting from each other’s hold. The chill that had pursued them from the street seemed to dissolve the moment they stepped inside.
The establishment itself was of considerable grandeur—its walls adorned in shades of gold that caught the light with regal splendour. Every ornament and fixture appeared chosen with exquisite care, each contributing to an air of refined opulence. The place bore the theme of a summer holiday, and the cheerful motif lent warmth to the lavish surroundings.
Kihyeon’s eyes widened with delight; he could scarcely contain his astonishment. There was in him the pure, unguarded joy of a child encountering some long-dreamed paradise, and Tian, observing him from the corner of his eye, could not help but smile.
“Do you like it?” Tian asked, his voice calm yet carrying a hint of satisfaction. “If you do, I shall bring you here again another time.”
Their hands were still joined as he paused before the lift and pressed the button. The faint chime echoed softly in the golden hall.
Kihyeon’s heart swelled with quiet joy, how marvellous it was simply to share such a place, to taste fine food in good company. Yet, as the gleam of the gilded surroundings met his eyes, another thought struck him with sudden gravity.
Surely, he mused in silent alarm, that means he must pay for all that he eat? His gaze drifted toward the elegant menu displayed near the counter, and a bead of sweat traced his temple. 'Heaven help me… one plate here must cost no less than a hundred thousand!'
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