It was the fourth year Lu Mian had been by Li Xiao's side. Everyone knew Li Xiao kept this young dancer around merely as a distraction—his delicate features bore only a faint resemblance to that unattainable "white moonlight." The grand theater originally booked for Lu Mian's dance performance was casually handed over by Li Xiao to host a private banquet for his white moonlight. At the banquet, a friend joked, "People online thought you were going to Lu Mian’s show today. As if you’d ever step into some shabby place like that." "Today?" Li Xiao swirled his wine glass, indifferent as ever. "Hah, I must’ve mixed up the dates." That night, a fire broke out in a dilapidated little art gallery on the outskirts of City C. Lu Mian rushed to save others but couldn’t escape in time. The moment the flames consumed him, a dying boy in a foreign hospital suddenly regained his pulse. Three years later, a stunning adaptation of *The Phantom of the Opera* debuted, making its way to City C. On towering posters, a masked dancer’s graceful silhouette bore an uncanny resemblance to *him*. The circle had all noticed—for the past three years, Li Xiao had never once spoken Lu Mian’s name. They still remembered the obedient young dancer who answered Li Xiao’s every beck and call—until the day flames swallowed the sky. Watching the lifeless body carried from the wreckage, Li Xiao lost his mind. Hoarsely, he ordered Lu Mian to come back; Lu Mian ignored him. Coldly, he threatened that Lu Mian better never return—yet Lu Mian stayed buried in his heart, haunting him for good.