He bypassed the standard black suits and headed straight for the evening wear section. His eyes instantly caught a midnight-blue tuxedo jacket made of ultra-premium silk velvet. The fabric was so rich it seemed to absorb the light, contrasted beautifully by sharp, black satin lapels. He touched the sleeve—the tailoring was flawless, easily worth more than a year of his previous part-time salaries combined. 

he wandered over to the casual elite bay, selecting a cream-colored, heavyweight cashmere sweater that felt like a cloud, alongside a sleek, tailored black trench coat that screamed effortless sophistication. If he was going to look like a high-society elite for the weekend, he was going to do it right.

Finally, he approached the colossal walnut island counter in the center of the room. He tapped on the crystal glass, looking down at the accessories. He pointed toward a pair of solid platinum cufflinks shaped like subtle, interlocking geometric knots, and a pair of flawless black leather oxford shoes polished to such a high-gloss finish he could practically see his reflection in them.

Turning back to the two stone-faced bodyguards, Yan Shou piled the absurdly expensive haul into the arms of the nearest giant. 

"Alright," Yan Shou said, crossing his arms and tilting his head with a cheeky grin. "I've made my choices. Where's the fitting room, or are you two planning to watch me change, too?" 

As he said that, the two bodyguards simultaneously pointed toward a hidden door in the corner of the room. It led to a private changing room that was just as luxurious as the main hall, complete with its own soft spotlights and a plush velvet bench.

Yan Shou walked inside and quickly changed into the first look. When he stepped out to view himself in the grand, three-panel mirror, he was stunned by his own transformation. The clothes fit him like a second skin. He struck a pose, checked his angles, and then marched back into the changing room to try on the next set.

He did this numerous times, changing and emerging in a whirlwind of high-end fashion. What had started as a forced fitting quickly turned into Yan Shou's personal runway show.

However, when he turned around to see if the two giants had any reaction, he was met with a truly bizarre sight.

The bodyguards maintained their rigid, stone-faced expressions throughout the entire spectacle, but they weren't just standing idle anymore. Somehow, as if out of thin air, they had produced a set of white scoring boards. Every single time Yan Shou stepped out in a new combination, the two giants would silently raise their boards to rate his outfit, looking exactly like judges at an international figure skating championship.

Amused and suddenly highly competitive, Yan Shou snatched the next set of clothes and marched back inside. 

For the casual cashmere sweater and trench coat look, they both raised a solid nine out of ten. For a slightly more experimental, avant-garde suit he had picked on a whim, one raised a six while the other bluntly held up a four. Yan Shou let out a mock-gasp of pure offense.

Finally, Yan Shou stepped out wearing the crown jewel of his selection: the midnight-blue silk velvet tuxedo, paired with the platinum cufflinks and the mirror-shined oxfords. He adjusted his cuffs, ran a hand through his hair, and turned to his silent audience with a confident, effortless smirk.

The room fell dead quiet. The two bodyguards looked him up and down, completely serious. Then, simultaneously, they both flipped their boards up. 

A perfect double ten.

Yan Shou smoothed down his lapels, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked completely unrecognizable from the college student who had been shoved into a sack an hour ago. He looked dangerous, wealthy, and entirely out of the Yan family's league. He had to admit, he looked spectacular.

Whoever had brought him here was about to get a shockingly expensive bill, and Yan Shou was going to look absolutely stunning at the weekend gala. 

As Yan Shou was still admiring himself in front of the mirror, the sudden sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the room, accompanied by the crisp, rhythmic click of expensive dress shoes against the marble floor. Yan Shou quickly turned around to have a look.

A strikingly elegant boy stepped out from behind the two towering bodyguards, and the entire atmosphere of the room instantly shifted.

The boy carried the undeniable, magnetic aura of a natural top—someone used to commanding absolute authority without ever having to raise his voice. He was tall, with broad, relaxed shoulders and a dangerously confident posture that practically radiated dominant energy. His facial features were sharp, refined, and breathtakingly aristocratic, defined by a strong, clean jawline and smooth, radiant skin. His lips, plush and naturally pink, were turned up in a subtle, knowing smirk that practically dared anyone to try and tame him.

But it was his eyes that commanded most of Yan Shou’s attention. They were dark, piercing, and incredibly intense, tracking Yan Shou’s movements with the heavy, predatory focus of someone who always got exactly what they wanted. 

Yet, despite his powerful, commanding presence, there was a heavy dose of pure sass woven deep into his demeanor.

A lazy, amused smirk played at the corner of his lips, perfectly balancing his intimidating stature with a playful, teasing attitude. He stopped a few paces away, tilting his head slightly as his gaze deliberately swept over Yan Shou’s velvet tuxedo, openly checking him out with a slow, appreciative hum. He carried himself with the effortless, casual arrogance of a young master who owned the world but found it entirely too entertaining to take seriously.

Though he appeared to be the exact same age as Yan Shou, his wardrobe was on a completely different level of luxury. His attire was designed to captivate, walking a fine line between untouchable luxury and absolute temptation. It was the kind of outfit that made anyone looking at him want to either worship him or completely devour him on the spot. 

He wore an asymmetric, double-breasted suit jacket in a deep, midnight-charcoal silk brocade, the subtle obsidian patterns catching the light like liquid shadow. It was tailored so flawlessly to his frame that it accentuated the lean taper of his waist. Abandoning a traditional dress shirt, he wore a fluid, semi-sheer black silk-chiffon top underneath. His neckline plunged open in a sharp V, exposing the strong lines of his collarbones and a teasing glimpse of his smooth chest. Every time he breathed, the fabric draped tantalizingly against his skin, making it impossible to look away.

A choker-style silk ribbon was tied loosely around his throat, trailing down his chest like an invitation, fastened by a single, blood-red ruby pin that rested right against his pulse point. His tailored trousers were a matching matte black, hugging his long legs perfectly, ending at a pair of bespoke leather boots with a silver-capped toe. 

He exuded power, wealth, and an intoxicating, dangerous sensuality. He looked like an expensive sin, and right now, his eyes were locked entirely onto Yan Shou.

He rested one hand elegantly on his hip, his eyes locking onto Yan Shou’s with a wicked, teasing glint.

"Well, well," the boy murmured, his voice a smooth, deep baritone that carried a distinctly playfulness. "The giant blocks of muscle weren't lying. A perfect ten out of ten, indeed." 

"I wouldn't have expected this much fashion sense from you," the boy said, stepping a fraction closer. "You have indeed raised my expectations and proved me wrong. I've always wanted to meet you face-to-face, but the right opportunity never presented itself. But finally, here we are."

His movements were fluid and entirely unhurried as he elegantly stretched his hand out toward Yan Shou.

"Nice to meet you, Young Master Yan.”