Yan Zhen had texted earlier, explaining she had rehearsal and couldn't reply promptly, telling him to wait for her at the auditorium. He parked, locked the car, and walked towards the entrance.

The area outside the auditorium was quiet. He tried the handle, pushing the heavy door open a crack.

Since it was a rehearsal, the vast auditorium was mostly empty. Only a small group huddled near the stage. The back rows, where he stood, were deserted and dimly lit.

He leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the brightly lit stage.

He spotted Yan Zhen almost instantly. She sat on a raised platform, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, accentuating the delicate fairness of her face. Her eyes shone, her lips slightly parted, the faint blush on her cheeks vibrant under the focused lights.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

While the others on stage acted out the conflict, she seemed somewhat bored, lost in thought. Her gaze wandered across the audience, then stopped on him.

Their eyes met.

She quickly looked away, then, as if remembering something, glanced back at him while everyone’s attention was focused on the stage, playfully sticking out her tongue.

He couldn't help but smile.

"Excuse me, this is a closed rehearsal. Are you...?" a bright female voice interrupted. Chen Huaixu turned.

The girl paused, taking him in. "Uh...are you a teacher?"

Although his face was youthful and handsome, he possessed an air of maturity that didn't quite fit a student.

"No, I'm family of one of the actors." He nodded politely. "I'll wait outside."

"No need! Since you're family, please wait here. It's a bit chilly outside." The girl quickly stopped him. "We're almost finished. Just a little longer. The princess has no more scenes after she's rescued."

He'd already pieced together the plot from the set design. The girl's words confirmed Yan Zhen's role as the princess.

He scanned the stage, spotting a young man in elaborate costume battling a human-form dragon, making a final effort to save the princess.

Another classic tale of a prince and a princess.

He recalled a conversation with Yan Zhao from years ago.

"My sister," Yan Zhao had said, his thumbs working the game controller, "her biggest dream since childhood was to be a princess. Her ideal type is a gentle prince, like Liang Yu. You don't know him, he's younger than us, a photographer." He'd raised an eyebrow at Chen Huaixu. "So, what do you think? Ready to back down? Your perpetually stoic face doesn't exactly scream 'gentle prince.'"

Chen Huaixu watched as the play reached its climax. The prince rescued the princess. They gazed at each other, slowly taking each other's hands.

He turned and walked out of the auditorium, pausing at the door. From within, he heard the resounding applause of the curtain call.

The evening wind was sharp, rustling the newly budding leaves on the trees.

Unfortunately, he was no prince.

He was the dragon, lurking in the shadows, obsessed with the princess, scheming to carry her back to his lair, to shower her with his hoard of treasures, hoping she would stay with him forever.

The princess was the dragon's most coveted, most precious treasure.