"Hey... Chris Brooks..." The little girl, unwilling to be left out, first went to tug at Edward Lincoln, but Edward Lincoln stuffed a pork knuckle into her mouth, making her return to her seat in a huff. Then, unbelievably, this girl's target shifted to me.

"..." With my mouth full, I mumbled at the little girl for a while, making Emily Lincoln so angry her crescent-shaped brows almost turned into grapes.

"What is it?..." I took a sip of the sweet and slightly tart wine—so refreshing...

"Hmph, you backtracking liar." Emily Lincoln glared at me with gritted teeth, full of disdain. Annoyed, I bared my teeth: "Watch your mouth, little sister..."

"Don't call me little sister, you stinky Chris Brooks! Who was it just now that said no gambling, no drinking? Was it a little dog crawling by?" The little girl shot me a sidelong glance.

"...Seems like it..." I scratched my head.

"So you admit it?" The little girl proudly lifted her sharp little chin, took a satisfied sip of grape wine. Was it really necessary to get this excited over catching my little slip-up?

"Yeah, I admit it. But that doesn't mean I was wrong. Think about it—coming to a festive place like this, and with my amnesia, I can't even communicate with these people..." I pointed at the group of half-crazy rich kids. Edward Lincoln was already red-faced from drinking, his eyes rolling, one sleeve long and one short, raising his cup and singing a friendship song with his brother-in-law William Clark, who he'd almost gotten into a fight with earlier. "If I don't drink or eat, what else can I do?" I spread my greasy palms—what can you do to me? Wahahaha...

"You!..." Emily Lincoln glared at me hatefully, then stabbed the pork knuckle Edward Lincoln had used to block her mouth with her chopsticks, looking like a very wronged little wife.

I really can't stand seeing a pretty girl like this. I coughed awkwardly, ready to comfort her. Suddenly, Emily Lincoln turned around, squeezed over to my table, and looked at me strangely: "Tell the truth, did you write those lyrics that day, or did you copy them from your dad?"

"What lyrics?" I was completely confused.

"'I stand in the fierce wind, wishing I could sweep away all the lingering pain in my heart. Looking to the heavens, clouds move in all directions. Sword in hand, I ask the world: who is the hero...'" Emily Lincoln's voice was clear and melodious, and the originally tragic and desolate "Farewell My Concubine" was sung by her with a touch of gentle charm.

She exuded a faint, fresh floral fragrance, her soft voice changing expression with the lyrics—so vivid, it made me feel as if I was really seeing the legendary Yu Ji who moved a king to pity. Honestly, with all my years of experience judging campus beauties, I could hardly find a single flaw on her. Her skin was as smooth and lustrous as ivory, and the barely noticeable freckles only added a hint of allure. There was no trace of makeup, her brows were like willow leaves, her eyes full of autumn water, her nose straight, her lips like cherries, her face a perfect oval—soft yet defined, radiating a charm that could drive any man crazy. I suppressed my wicked thoughts, swallowing hard... Too beautiful. Even a little girl can be this alluring—if she gets a few years older, wouldn't she be a national disaster?

Emily Lincoln finished singing, still savoring it, then glanced at me sideways: "Such a strange flavor—did you plagiarize your dad's masterpiece to show off?"

"No, is that necessary?" I shamelessly raised my head. Looks like I've already mastered the essential skill of a transmigrator: a face thick enough to withstand the sun's heat.

"...Really?" Emily Lincoln blinked dangerously. "Are you sure?" Her long lashes trembled slightly. Truly, her eyes were like misty water...

"Hmph, a real man stands by his name and never changes it." My chin was now higher than the Duke of Lu's mansion, higher than Mount Tai, higher than Everest—almost piercing the atmosphere...

"Very good!" The little girl snapped her fingers crisply, that signature bad-girl move leaving me dumbfounded. I quickly looked around to make sure there was no director or camera crew.

Then, the little girl clapped her hands, lifted her skirt daintily, and gracefully walked over to the drunken Handsome Lincoln, tugged his ear, and whispered something to him in a very suspicious tone. Danger! My internal alarm bells went off... I know all too well the tricks of middle school bad girls at this age.

"Brother Jun... where do you think you're going!" Edward Lincoln staggered over with drunken steps, doing a tiger-crane double pose. In a few moves, he caught me at the back hall entrance. Damn you, Emily Lincoln, you're dead... I glared furiously at Emily Lincoln, and she glared right back, not backing down at all.

"Brother Jun... could it be..." Edward Lincoln, his face as red as a monkey's butt, hiccupped from the wine, still swaying as he pointed at the pillar next to me: "Could it be you want to abandon your friends and run away?"

"..." I stared at him expressionlessly until he finally managed to focus on me. "Brother, I've had too much to drink, feeling stuffy, just want to go out for some air..." I gestured outside.

"No way, unless you recite a poem for us right here. Otherwise, you'll have to drink three..." Edward Lincoln pointed at the lacquered ear cup, shook his head, pointed at the wine pot, shook his head again, and finally settled on the wine jar. Damn! He almost wanted to silence me on the spot.

"My literary skills really can't compare to all you talented gentlemen..." I said with a forced smile to the group of rich kids around me.