Over the years, Dorian had long learned to keep a low profile at school. He attended a public school in the city, wore ordinary brand clothing, used plain stationery, and at lunchtime simply ate quietly from the bento he brought from home. Although those sumptuous dishes were clearly far more refined than the school cafeteria's offerings, his classmates merely assumed his "mom" was an especially good cook.

This afternoon, a few close classmates gathered to chat.

"Did you guys see? This year's newest limited edition sneakers!" Tommaso excitedly pulled out his phone. "Apparently there are only a thousand pairs worldwide, priced at three thousand five hundred euros!"

"Thirty-five hundred? Who can afford that?" The other classmates gasped.

"Rich people, obviously. For us, it's just window shopping." Luca shrugged.

Dorian glanced at the sneakers on the phone screen, blinking his blue-gold eyes. "That's it? They look pretty ordinary."

"What do you mean 'that's it'? Thirty-five hundred! Your family's monthly living expenses probably aren't even that much, right?" Tommaso's eyes went wide.

Dorian froze, realizing he had misspoken. "I mean... the design is ordinary."

His reaction had already caught his classmates' attention.

"Dorian, why are you so unfazed by thirty-five hundred euros?" Andrea twirled his pen curiously. "Do you know what that means? My parents' salaries combined are only just over fifty thousand a year."

"I..." Dorian felt a moment of panic but quickly regained composure. "I just don't think it's worth spending that much money on a pair of shoes."

He certainly understood the numerical value, but he never considered whether something was affordable or not. This was a difference in standards for judging "expensive," shaped by life experience and spending habits. It was just that he was still young and not quite able to conceal his instinctive reactions.

The boys continued chatting about other topics, yet all began silently observing Dorian's reactions.

"By the way, are you guys going on the class group trip next month?" Luca asked casually.

Their class was traveling together with two other classes, taking a long-distance bus to Switzerland for five days and four nights, but each person had to pay eight hundred and fifty euros.

Tommaso frowned. "That's too expensive! I'll have to discuss it with my parents. My family might need to pay in installments."

While Tommaso felt the pinch, he was also grateful that the school offered an installment plan for the trip fees.

"Yeah, I need to figure something out too. Might have to borrow a bit from my grandparents." Andrea sighed.

Dorian spoke without thinking, saying unconsciously, "Is it that expensive? Why not just sign up?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he had misspoken again. Several classmates were looking at him strangely.

"Dorian... is your family... rich?" Luca asked probingly.

"No! My dads are both freelancers. Their income is very ordinary." Dorian hurried to deny it. He had kept this hidden for so long; it looked like all his efforts were about to be undone.

"Freelancers? Doing what?" Tommaso pressed.

"Well..." Dorian struggled to think of how to explain. "My dad handles some business consulting, and my papa researches herbs and cooking. The kind of work you do from home."

"That doesn't sound like ordinary income! And did you just say 'dads'? 'Dad' and 'papa'?" Andrea looked thoughtful.

Dorian's face quietly flushed; he had accidentally revealed his family structure. "Yeah... I have two dads."

The classmates didn't react strangely. After all, people were more open-minded these days. But this made them even more curious about Dorian's family background.

"Dorian, how about we come to your place to do homework this Friday?" Luca's enthusiasm couldn't be contained, nor did he want to contain it. "Would that be okay? Look, we've all been to my house, Andrea's house, and Tommaso's house. Yours is the only one we haven't visited."

Dorian hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. "Alright... but my house is kind of... um, kind of big."

＊

Normally Dorian took the suburban bus to and from school, and since his home was still some distance from the nearest bus stop, a parent would drive him between the stop and home each day. But on this day when classmates were coming to visit, Dorian had deliberately told his two dads beforehand not to pick him up.

Friday afternoon, three middle schoolers followed Dorian to the mountainous area of the province. When the taxi stopped in front of an exquisite villa, their jaws nearly dropped to the ground.

"Dorian... this is what you meant by 'kind of big'?" Luca stammered.

The brown building before them was less a house than a small estate: a meticulously maintained grand courtyard, rustic stone walls, classic terracotta roof tiles, modern windows paired with traditional wooden shutters, and distant mountains like a painting in the background. Everything proclaimed understated, magnificent luxury.

Wait, what was that glass structure? A greenhouse?

"Uh... welcome to my home?" Dorian smiled awkwardly, leading his friends toward the front door.

The moment they stepped into the entrance hall, they saw an impossibly handsome man with silver gray hair wiping down the bar counter. Lleuad had just finished his afternoon workout, his robust upper body bare, wearing only athletic pants below. Yet even such casual attire couldn't mask the dangerous, captivating aura about him.

"Little Milkshake's back?" Lleuad's red eyes held a languid smile, then noticed the three boys behind Dorian. "These are your friends?"

All three boys were stunned. This man looked far too young! And that presence—uh, plus muscles that put poster models to shame...

"Dad, this is Tommaso, Luca, and Andrea." Dorian made the introductions. Each boy straightened up unconsciously as his name was called.

"Hello, boys. I'm Lleuad, Dorian's dad." Lleuad walked over to greet them casually.

"D-dad? You—you look so young!" Tommaso stammered as well.

"Thanks for the compliment." Lleuad smiled lazily.

Just then, Suolan emerged from the kitchen carrying an elegant tray of pastries. His silky long hair was braided in a Greek style, a gentle smile on his face.

"Little Milkshake, your friends are here? I made some treats. Everyone help yourselves." Suolan's voice was soft and melodious.

If Lleuad's impression was one of dangerous beauty that made people want to gasp and scream, then Suolan was pure beauty that made minds go blank. The three boys were rendered completely speechless.