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He had always found it suspiciously easy to journey to America and team up with Angelica. Despite her notorious reputation as the last member of the Seven Deadly Sins, she had facilitated his arrival with surprising ease: securing him accommodation, fetching him from the airport, arming him with a handgun, and even crafting a disguise to shield him from the relentless pursuit of time-space assassins.

And most astonishingly, Angelica had admitted to an almost blind trust in him.

Regardless of the information he shared, the strategies he proposed, or the bold promises he made—such as unveiling Copernicus’ true identity and solving the mystery of Ji Lin’s parents’ death upon his official induction into the Genius Club—she believed him unconditionally. Despite his confident facade, Lin Xian was aware these were mere hopeful aspirations.

The reality of his membership in the Genius Club, the possibility of additional tests, and the likelihood of fulfilling his promises were all uncertain. Yet, Angelica chose to believe in him without a shadow of doubt.

Lin Xian speculated, “Perhaps Angelica sees some semblance of Ji Lin in me.”

Ji Lin had considered Lin Xian his only friend, a bond he had shared with Angelica. He had spoken of their joint efforts to celebrate Chu An Qing’s birthday and their elaborate plans for the villa’s decoration. Despite Angelica’s mixed feelings, she would have been comforted knowing Ji Lin had found companionship. However, Angelica was unaware of the underlying intentions of manipulation and deceit in Lin Xian’s friendship with Ji Lin.

With Ji Lin’s death, many unresolved issues had lost their significance. Angelica, who had witnessed the tragic end of all her relatives twice, found herself isolated again at the tender age of just over twenty. Though outwardly composed, her heart was undoubtedly seared with a desire for vengeance against the murderer within the Genius Club.

Perhaps her faith in Lin Xian wasn’t as unwavering as it seemed. Yet, because Ji Lin had recognized him as a friend, Lin Xian had become a temporary pillar of emotional support for her. If Ji Lin hadn’t regarded him as a friend, Angelica might have already seized an opportunity to end his life—that was a chilling possibility.

Lin Xian recalled the letter Ji Lin had penned to Angelica after his release from police custody. The contents remained unknown to him, but he sensed that his own role had been significant, possibly influencing her surprisingly collaborative and trusting attitude towards him.

Reflecting on his past interactions with Ji Lin, Lin Xian realized they were superficial at best. Their activities—attending Chu An Qing’s birthday, decorating for the party, playing board games, and gifting an unwanted Gothic Rhine Cat figurine—might seem trivial to others but held great value to Ji Lin. Just as familial affection, often taken for granted, had slipped through Angelica’s fingers like fine sand, impossible to grasp.

“Let’s go,” Angelica said briskly, packing up her belongings and signaling for Lin Xian to follow.

Lin Xian took one last glance at his altered reflection in the mirror. He smiled, noticing how even his teeth seemed different, reshaping his entire facial expression. The mastery of disguise was indeed a formidable art. Considering the complexity of the techniques involved, it was clear why not just anyone could master it. Angelica’s reputation as a shapeshifting witch was well-deserved, and she lived up to her formidable reputation.

Outside, a bright purple Lamborghini awaited, its sleek, low-slung form hinting at its exorbitant cost and powerful capabilities.

“You drive,” Angelica tossed him the car keys, which he caught with a swift motion.

They both ducked into the car, the engine roaring to life at the push of a button as they set off into the night toward their destination.

“Here’s tonight’s plan,” Angelica began, settling into the passenger seat and slipping on a pair of elegant sunglasses, which accentuated her already striking features.

“Elon Musk’s female secretary has been trying to meet me for a while now. She’ll be at a charity banquet at Princeton tonight, representing Musk. She’s been sending me messages on social media for days, but I haven’t responded.”

“Playing hard to get,” he remarked, a smirk forming on his lips as he steered the wheel. “You’re quite the strategist. When that disappointed and dejected secretary sees you at the banquet, I can only imagine how excited she’ll be.”

Angelica, adjusting her sunglasses, glanced at Lin Xian with a knowing smile. “The sudden contrast and surprise have the most impact on emotions. If she knew you were coming, she wouldn’t experience that emotional shock from disappointment to excitement. When emotions take over, people lose some rationality. It’s a common tactic—men often make slips of the tongue in a flurry of praise, and it works here too.”

“You’re quite the romantic,” Angelica teased, her smile widening. “Then why are you always so slow to catch on?”

“I’m just analyzing rationally,” Lin Xian responded, his tone cool as he signaled right and merged onto the highway. “So tonight, my role is your date—a wealthy prince from some obscure country, rich and nothing else, a sucker you’ve hooked.”

“Exactly,” Angelica laughed. “That’s the persona. I always attract wealthy suckers—directors, politicians, senators, athletes, businessmen… Just try to act a bit naive and not too dull.”

Lin Xian glanced at her. “American culture is more open than X Country’s. When you fancy a woman, you boldly invite her to dance. Only by blending in can Elon Musk’s secretary approach me.”

Angelica nodded. “I can’t actively approach her; she must come to me, or it will seem too fake. Once she does, I can take her down easily. Winning over an infatuated girl is easier than spreading butter on bread.”

Lin Xian coughed lightly and, while waiting at a red light, turned to look at her. “In essence, it’s about the secretary’s orientation, right?”

“Mm-hmm~” Angelica tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at Lin Xian. “A reminder, boy. In America, never assume anyone’s gender. Even if the secretary is biologically female, she might identify as male; and likewise, I might identify as male, and she might perceive me as male too… In America, you must be mindful of this, or you’ll get into trouble.”

“Interesting concept,” Lin Xian mused, a playful smile on his lips. “Can I identify as a Walmart plastic bag but gender-identify as an attack helicopter?”

“Of course~” Angelica shrugged with a smile. “That’s your freedom. Welcome to the land of liberty.”

“Cool, long live freedom,” Lin Xian praised and pressed the gas pedal, speeding through the intersection’s green light.

Angelica touched up her lipstick in the passenger mirror, evenly spreading it, then continued. “So, back to the plan. You play your role, and I’ll wait for the opportunity to connect with Elon Musk’s secretary, then… I’ll leave you and be with her. I might disappear for a while, but don’t worry, it’s all part of the plan.”

“In any case, act accordingly. If you have any issues or needs, I’ll text you. Keep the American phone I gave you for safety.”

“And did you finish what I asked you to write yesterday? The guidance on what to steer conversations towards and which keywords to look out for?”

“Yes.” Lin Xian responded, taking one hand off the steering wheel to retrieve a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket, handing it to Angelica.

Angelica took it, unfolded it, and adjusted her sunglasses to read the words:

Genius Club, Kevin Walker, Super AI, Girl Killer, Blue Eyes, Copernicus, Time-Space Particles.

“When gathering information, if you hear these keywords, steer the conversation towards them. If she never mentions them, find a way to introduce them subtly,” Lin Xian explained. “For instance, for the girl killer, you could jokingly ask if Elon Musk is a loli-con and see if there’s any unusual activity involving young girls in his circle.”

“For Copernicus, approach it by asking who Elon Musk’s favorite scientist or admired figure is, and try to extract information about the Genius Club.”

Angelica read the content twice more, then returned the paper to Lin Xian. “Don’t worry. Gathering intel is my forte. Leave it to me.”

“Over there, turn right ahead, go straight to the entrance. No need to park; there’ll be valet service.”

She then took out a stack of green dollar bills from her handbag and stuffed them into Lin Xian’s pocket. “Tipping culture is serious and pervasive in America. Just tip generously. You’re a wealthy prince now; money is like waste paper to you.”

“Give me more waste paper then.” Lin Xian glanced at her handbag. “You gave so little, how am I supposed to act the part? I can’t get into character.”

“…”

Angelica gave Lin Xian a helpless look but still emptied her handbag’s dollars into his pocket. “Remember, those Hollywood tipping scenes are exaggerated. In reality, no one is that extravagant. Even Elon Musk, the richest man, would fold a $100 bill. Folding makes it look more, no one’s silly enough to throw money like a playboy in movies.”

“Don’t worry, I have a sense of proportion.”

Lin Xian braked, parking the Lamborghini at the banquet hall entrance. He looked in the rearview mirror at his altered, square face with deep-set eyes, and curly hair—a wealthy prince from the oil-rich country.

“My acting might not be as good as yours, but I’ve had training from a certain Hollywood acting genius.”

“Oh? Who?”

Angelica asked with interest. “I know all the Hollywood acting geniuses.”

Lin Xian shook his head with a smile. “This one you don’t know.”

With that, he opened the Lamborghini’s scissors door. Valet attendants and reception staff immediately approached, offering white-gloved hands to assist Angelica from the low-slung car. Another valet attendant stood ready at Lin Xian’s door.

Lin Xian stepped out confidently, casually handing a few crisp bills and the Lamborghini key to the valet. The valet’s eyes widened in surprise. He hurriedly accepted, bowing in thanks.

Lin Xian straightened his suit collar and walked to Angelica’s side, handing out bills to the reception staff as well. Then, holding Angelica’s offered hand, they walked down the red carpet towards the bustling banquet hall.

Angelica, a true socialite and queen among celebrities, greeted everyone warmly, regardless of age or gender. Lin Xian, of course, knew no one here. He barely even recognized himself! So, he smiled at whoever Angelica smiled at, nodded at whoever she talked to, acting knowledgeable.

The hall was filled with people speaking English. When they spoke slowly, Lin Xian could understand. But fast speech or strange grammatical shortcuts made him struggle, often half-understanding. So, he decided to keep silent, pretending to be a wealthy Arab prince who wasn’t fluent in English.

Holding Angelica’s hand, no one would question his identity. Angelica was his best introduction card. A sign that he was rich.

Shortly after entering the hall, the banquet began.

“Look, Lin Xian, over by the pillar near the stairs, there’s a woman in a light yellow dress with her hair up,” Angelica whispered into his ear while casually picking up a wine glass.

Lin Xian glanced over. Spotting her was easy; she was the only one in a yellow off-shoulder dress. Tall and slim, her presence was as striking as Angelica’s, an evident testament to the high standards held by the world’s richest men for their secretaries.

He mused that if this stunning secretary ever trained in Hollywood, her star might rise nearly as high as Angelica’s. After all, anyone personally chosen by Elon Musk couldn’t be ordinary. This woman must possess extraordinary skills beyond her beauty—beauties were something Elon Musk, a notorious playboy, never seemed to lack in his companions.

This made Lin Xian ponder a worrying thought… Could Angelica really compete with such a secretary?

His gaze lingered on the secretary. She usually wore glasses, he figured, noting the subtle marks at her temples and her eyes’ habitual squint, likely from contacts worn especially for tonight.

The secretary’s features were delicate and elegant, contrasting with Angelica’s striking sharpness. Her hair was bright yellow, neatly styled in a formal updo suitable for the evening’s event.

“She’s currently talking to an executive from an internet company,” Angelica murmured, a hint of urgency in her voice. “She hasn’t spotted me yet; too many people here. But it’s only a matter of time… Let’s initiate our plan, Lin Xian. I need to go mingle and make my rounds.”

“Quickly slip into your playboy persona, give the secretary a reason to approach me, which will allow me to slip away to her. Can you manage that? I should have prepped you better last night. You don’t exactly strike me as the charming type.”

Lin Xian gave a light snort. “Don’t worry, I have a superpower.”

Angelica stepped back, eyeing him curiously. “And what might that superpower be?”

Pointing to his face, Lin Xian replied with a smirk, much like Bruce Wayne might answer Flash’s question in a Batman movie: “I am rich.”

A knowing smile crossed Angelica’s face as she tapped Lin Xian’s chest playfully. “Good luck, night guardian… May this be your unbeatable Gotham.”

“Goodbye, my Dark Knight~”

Despite the exchange, Lin Xian was out of his element. His usual soirees in Donghai, often alongside Zhao Ying Jun, provided little room for flirtation. He had danced only twice at such gatherings; once led by Zhao Ying Jun herself and another time abruptly cut short by her interference.

Angelica blended into the crowd with ease, as if the room were her personal stage. For her, life was a continuous performance, seamlessly transitioning from on-screen roles to real-world scenarios. Her only genuine respite seemed to be the years spent watching over her younger brother Ji Lin, witnessing his growth from a boy to a man. Those moments represented her truest reality.

Meanwhile, Lin Xian was approached by a stylish young woman near the dining area.

“Hi~” she greeted, a blend of shyness and expectation in her large eyes.

“Hi,” Lin Xian responded, offering a smile.

“Do you have time to chat?”

“Of course,” he replied in English, putting on the persona Angelica had crafted for him.

“Wow,” the girl exclaimed, slightly taken aback. “A prince… But your English carries a unique X Country lilt, almost musical.”

“That’s because I studied in X Country,” Lin Xian explained, swirling his wine glass with poise. “I’ve had a lifelong fascination with X Country, prompting me to study both X Country language and English there, which influenced my accent.”

She nodded, her interest piqued. “I chose Arabic as my second language in college. I just wanted to say hello.”

“I find Arabic incredibly romantic,” Lin Xian remarked, his interest evident in his tone. “Since it’s your native language, you must feel a deep connection to it.”

The girl, quick-witted and playful, challenged him, “What’s the most romantic phrase in Arabic?”

Lin Xian leaned in, his gaze fixating on her vibrant green eyes, and whispered in English, “You have captivating eyes.”

She laughed, a blush coloring her cheeks. “That’s English, not Arabic.”

“Exactly,” Lin Xian grinned with unwavering confidence. “But my English teacher always said it’s the most romantic phrase in the world.”

Her laughter filled the air, joyful and contagious, as she linked her arm with his. “Let’s dance!”

As they joined others on the dance floor, Lin Xian’s attention briefly shifted to Angelica. She was conversing with a guest, Elon Musk’s secretary, who appeared completely captivated by her. Angelica, however, remained cool and collected.

Soon after, both women melded into the bustling crowd, disappearing from Lin Xian’s view. His phone buzzed with a message from Angelica: “I won’t be back tonight. Drive yourself home.”

Admiring her social prowess, Lin Xian thought to himself how Angelica, nicknamed “Lust” among their group known as the Seven Deadly Sins, could teach a master class in charm. Her skills were legendary at captivating everyone, regardless of gender.

After the dance, Lin Xian exchanged numbers with the lively girl and decided to head home. With Angelica gone, he felt no need to stay.

At the valet stand, before Lin Xian could even ask, the valet handed him the keys to a Lamborghini, bowing respectfully. “Sir, have a wonderful night.”

Lin Xian nodded and made his way to the car, unaware of the young girl with blue eyes who watched him leave and silently pointed towards an unnoticed hall.

As Lin Xian drove through the suburban landscapes, a stark contrast to the dense urban environment of his hometown, his peaceful drive was abruptly interrupted. A black Mercedes, its headlights ominously off, raced toward him in his rearview mirror.

A sudden realization of danger struck Lin Xian as he recognized the driver’s bright blue eyes in the darkness—it was the time-space assassin from his nightmares.

The Mercedes collided with Lin Xian’s Lamborghini, shattering the night with the sound of breaking carbon fiber. Lin Xian struggled to control his car, relying on his driving skills to avoid flipping over.

The cars screeched to a halt, and as Lin Xian reached for his gun, a paralyzing force overwhelmed him. His body refused to obey, a cruel trick of the time-space laws favoring the assassin.

He heard a distant shout, “Get down!!!” just as a Harley roared past, the driver managing to hit the assassin with a skillful maneuver.

The assassin, momentarily downed, quickly recovered, but not before the Harley’s rider, a young girl, continued her assault. She jumped off the bike, grabbed Lin Xian’s fallen gun, and opened fire on the assassin’s hiding spot.

“Get on! Quick!” she called to Lin Xian, her voice youthful yet commanding.

Lin Xian, weak but driven by desperation, used the bike as support to stand and eventually mounted it. The girl revved the engine and they sped away from the imminent danger.

As they left, the girl tossed a lighter onto a trail of gasoline leaking from the Mercedes. A massive explosion illuminated the night, echoing like a scene from a Hollywood movie.

Despite the surreal chaos, Lin Xian was grateful. “Thank you for saving me,” he said, trying to make sense of the night’s events.

“Do you know me?” he asked, curiosity piquing.

“Of course, Lin Xian,” the girl responded, her voice clear against the wind. “I came to save you. You were hard to find.”

Unable to see her face clearly from his position, Lin Xian noted her youthful appearance and resilience against the cold. “Who sent you?” he inquired.

“I can’t say,” she replied, focused on the road.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” Lin Xian persisted.

“Yu Xi,” she answered, her voice soft yet firm.

Lin Xian leaned forward in surprise, repeating her name for clarity.

“Yu, as in the concubine, Xi, as in the returning,” she explained, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes, blue as the Milky Way, pierced the night, leaving Lin Xian in awe.

“Yu Xi!”