Evening.
London's summer is fresher compared to Tung City's.
Trenton Smith got out of the car and, passing by a dessert shop, bought a small piece of Black Forest cake for Norris Moore.
The young and handsome Eastern man, impeccably dressed, carried an air of nobility and elegant charisma—a quintessential archetype of the successful English gentleman. The youthful, blonde-haired cashier accidentally grazed his cool fingertips when she took his black card, her face unintentionally reddening just slightly.
His gaze lingered momentarily on the display of brightly colored, beautifully packaged candies dusted with powdered sugar at the dessert shop's counter.
These candies, known for their sour-sweet flavors and delicate wrapping, were particularly popular with young couples and children.
"Sir, your card."
