The engagement was with the younger brother, but I've fallen for the older brother.

Autumn comes early to Boston; the maple leaves start to turn red by the end of August.

When He Sichen landed at Boston Airport, it was 4 p.m. local time.

He barely slept during the twelve-hour flight.

The two patches of gray were now darker from the dry air in the cabin, and a light bluish stubble appeared on his chin.

He booked a hotel near Si Yimian's apartment, took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and shaved his stubble.

He Sichen was fastening his shirt cuffs when his phone buzzed on the bedside table.

He glanced at it; the screen was lit up, and a red dot appeared in the upper right corner of Huo Siyue's profile picture.

He picked up his phone and saw a message from Huo Siyue.

[Brother Sichen, are we here yet? Are we here yet?]

Before He Sichen could even type, her next message came crashing down on him.

[Screenshot.jpg]

These are chat logs between Huo Siyue and Si Yimian.

[Mianmian is here tonight, a gathering organized by a mixed-race guy named Leo]

[I'll say it again, Leo is mixed race and handsome!]

Did you hear that? Awesome!!!

He Sichen's thumb hovered above the input box.

Huo Siyue beat him to it again.

Are you trying to figure out how to reply to me?

No need to reply, your reply speed has already given away your feelings.

I bet you're already wearing a coat.

He Sichen looked down at the coat he had just picked up.

silent.

【address.】

Huo Siyue replied with her location instantly.

One last point.

"I'm a qualified intelligence agent, so I want to sit at the head table at your wedding!"

He didn't reply, but locked the screen and put his phone in his trouser pocket.

I hailed a taxi and gave the driver my address.

……

Si Yimian lives in an apartment near the school, a ten-minute walk from the business school.

My days are filled with classes, group discussions, and gym sessions.

It's twelve hours slower than Beijing, but the pace is just as fulfilling.

Si Yimian adapted faster than she had expected.

Having spent two years in an American high school in her original world, the academic intensity at MIT was nothing more than a repetition of the Long March in a different language for her.

She met Leo at the freshman welcome party on her first day of school.

He is of mixed Chinese and American descent; his father was in shipping and his mother was American.

He was pursuing a master's degree in finance while also helping his family manage their North American business.

This person is very straightforward, doesn't overstep boundaries, and is a good social partner.

I asked her out simply because I thought this Chinese girl was interesting.

Her standards for friends have always been the same: they can provide value, don't cause trouble, and aren't clingy after you're done with them.

Tonight's outdoor cocktail party was organized by Leo.

The cocktail party was held on the rooftop terrace of an upscale club near Boston Harbor, offering a fantastic view of the lights stretching across the bay.

The atmosphere was sophisticated yet relaxed, without the rigid hierarchy of toasting each other first, as is common in China.

Si Yimian wore a halter-neck, shimmering dress with a backless design and a slender waist. She stood at the edge of the crowd, holding a mojito, chatting with a few business school classmates.

She had a sweet tongue, and after two rounds of drinks, she had already figured out most of Leo's social network and even remembered the names of three potential business partners.

Leo watched in awe.

"Could you tone down your social interactions a bit? Give me some face."

Then Leo pulled her to the long table in the center of the party.

"The newcomers are lucky, Mian, you'll be here to keep things in order for us."

Leo pressed her shoulder to make her sit down and casually pushed a deck of cards in front of her.

Si Yimian looked down and saw that the back of the playing cards had gold-stamped letters, and the rules of the cards were written on a small copper plate on the corner of the table.

Similar to a variation of Truth or Dare, the punishment is divided into three levels, with the level increasing with each round of loss.

There were already six people sitting at the table, two men and four women, and a subtle sense of excitement hung in the air.

She had heard before she arrived that there was an unwritten rule at private parties in Boston's elite circles.

The game's scale escalates in sync with the midnight bells.

Before 10 a.m., people socialize normally. After 10 a.m., people start taking off their coats. After midnight, basically no one cares whether they are still wearing their underwear or not.

It was exactly 10:30 p.m., and the atmosphere had gradually shifted from a social setting to a midnight vibe.

He Sichen arrived at the party at this time.

Instead of entering the main area through the front door, he went around to the dark corner on the side of the terrace and sat down on a high stool at the end of the bar.

The light just didn't shine on that spot.

I ordered a bourbon, no ice.

Among a group of young people wearing linen shirts and backless skirts, he then saw Si Yimian.

She turned her face to his side, the light outlining her silhouette with a soft edge.

They laughed without a care in the world.

I haven't seen you for two weeks, and you look better than when you were working overtime at Yu'an.

He Sichen picked up the bourbon and took a sip.

The liquor burned down from the back of the tongue.

The cards on the long table are flipped over to start the game.

He Sichen watched from afar and roughly judged that it was a variation of Truth or Dare.

Si Yimian had no idea that she was being targeted.

She's studying the rules of this broken game.

She boasted that her card skills were decent, but she was crushed by a straight flush in less than two rounds.

The losing couple from the previous group were severely punished. The girl was blindfolded and had to pull a lighter out of the boy's waistband with one hand. It took her three tries to find the right spot.

Si Yimian's eyelids twitched as she read it.

The standards and boundaries in these international gaming circles are certainly not being polite.

Now it's her turn to lose, and the penalty is level one. She chose truth.

The blonde girl across from them had already burst out laughing.

"Honestly, when was the last time you slept with someone of the opposite sex?"

Si Yimian paused for a moment, her fingers holding the playing cards.

Seven or eight pairs of eyes on the table were fixed on her, even Leo turned his head to look at her with curiosity in his eyes.

"About two weeks ago," she answered readily.

Everyone responded with an "oh," and the atmosphere relaxed.

Half a month, and he's considered a conservative in this circle.

No one noticed that next to the high table in the dark corner of the terrace, a man moved the rim of his wine glass away from his lips and then slowly placed it back on the bar.

He lowered his Adam's apple, and the tension he had been holding all the way eased slightly.

half a month.

It was the night before she left the capital.

That night, he stayed in her bed until four in the morning, and thoroughly ravaged her inside and out.

Then the next day he said he wouldn't see her off.

He Sichen lowered his eyes, staring at the amber-colored residue at the bottom of the glass.

He tapped his finger on the bar counter.

Okay.

There was no one else.

The game continues.

In the second round, she thought she had figured out the pattern, but she was crushed by Leo's gourd.

The punishment was escalated to level two, requiring her to complete a 30-second cheek kiss with a designated person.

Someone at the table whistled, and Leo tossed his cards into the center of the table, smiling innocently.

"Mian, choose someone."

Si Yimian looked down at her innocent pair of three of a kind, thinking that the game might have been rigged.

As soon as she opened her lips, a hand reached out from above her right shoulder.

With long, slender fingers and distinct knuckles, she held the cup between her index and middle fingers and gently lifted it, causing the mojito to slip from her palm and land on the table.

Then a deep, magnetic voice came down from above her head.

"She chose me."