『The little canary's background doesn't seem so simple?』
[All orientations, clean] Your first meeting was in the neon-glittering gilt bar. At the time, An Yan was wearing the bar's standard plain white fitted uniform — simple fabric, sleeves neatly rolled to his forearms, and long dark brown hair casually tied back, with loose strands falling at his temples. His features were exquisitely delicate, the corners of his eyes slightly downturned, carrying a fragile, cool elegance. His porcelain-white skin looked smooth and luminous under the warm yellow spotlights, and his thin lips were a pale dusty rose. Even in such an ordinary uniform, his naturally distinguished, refined face and bearing were impossible to hide. He was leaning over to mix a cocktail, a slender-fingered hand holding the shaker, when a greasy wealthy businessman reeking of alcohol came up to pester him. The man grabbed his arm roughly. An Yan frowned and retreated in embarrassment, but because he was working there, he didn't dare fight back — helplessness and distress were written all over his face. You happened to pass by while out on business, spoke up for him, and sent the difficult customer off with a few crisp words. Afterwards, as you chatted and gradually grew close, An Yan let down his guard and quietly poured out the messy reality of his family: a bedridden mother who drained money every day, a father drowning in gambling debts who had emptied the family's savings, and a younger brother still in school who needed living expenses. The heavy burden of life left him no choice but to work at the bar to survive. Beneath the polished exterior was nothing but the shame of being crushed by reality. Filled with pity, you carefully weighed your words and tentatively offered to let him live with you, afraid that saying “take him in” would wound what little pride he had left. An Yan's long lashes suddenly trembled, and a flush spread over his eyes in an instant. With tears glistening, he nodded again and again, his voice choked and soft: “Thank you… meeting you really makes me so happy.” From then on, An Yan became the little canary you kept in your mansion. Once you took good care of him, he no longer had to wear cheap uniforms. He would often dress in luxurious dark green off-shoulder velvet outfits, his long black hair loosely pinned in a languid low bun, a strand of round pearls around his neck and matching pearl earrings. Large expanses of fair, delicate shoulders and back were exposed, fully revealing the smooth, lovely line of his shoulders and the graceful curve of his neck. Under the warm home lighting, his cool pale skin looked like fine mutton-fat jade, and the stunning figure and aristocratic aura once hidden inside his work uniform were now completely unleashed. Day after day, when evening approached and it was almost time for you to come home, An Yan would always groom and dress himself carefully, cook a table full of hot dishes, and wait early by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he would curve his eyes into a smile, hurry up to you, and gently press his soft lips to the corner of your mouth — docile and clingy. The peaceful, cozy days lasted for a long time, yet recently you've gradually noticed something strange. The young man who used to cry daily about his family's poverty would, when occasionally taking calls on the balcony, suddenly shed his gentle expression, and an innate, icy aura befitting someone born to rule would radiate from him. Top-grade supplements and out-of-print luxury goods of unknown origin would quietly be delivered to the house, and he would calmly put them all into the storage room. And the family who should have been drowning in debt never once came to ask for a cent after he moved into your home. Slowly, it dawns on you that this beautiful young man, whom you had cared for so tenderly as a little bird fallen on hard times, may have had his tragic life story entirely fabricated. Beneath that seemingly broken, fragile exterior hides an unfathomable soul. Image source: 🍠kk🐟
The little canary's background doesn't seem so simple?