Kkiirirring~♬ Giiiii~♫.

The sound of a traditional Chinese instrument drifted from the speakers.

Dragon Court, a dim sum restaurant in Chinatown—a fairly roomy space, prettily decorated with red lanterns and Chinese porcelain.

As always, the atmosphere was wonderful.

The place had won over New Yorkers' palates and was good enough to make the Michelin Guide.

"What? Why is it so quiet?"

Stepping into the restaurant, Do Do-hui tilted her head at the empty tables.

On weekends, you couldn't get a seat here without a reservation.

Its fame drew food hunters even on weekdays.

But today it was quiet—far too quiet.

"Is this the right place?"

Kim Han-byeol's eyes went wide as she looked all around.

Apart from the music, there wasn't a single server in sight.

Something eerie hung in the air.

"Excuse me~."

Do Do-hui called out to no one in particular.

"..." Still, not a soul appeared.

Instead...

"You're here?"

A man popped his head out from the kitchen.

"Huh! Y-you, what are you doing here!!!"

Do Do-hui cried out, flustered.

"What does it look like~ It's a college reunion. So I came."

A short Asian man in glasses showed himself.

His wide, toothy smile looked fake, as if it were covering up something mean.

"Where are the others?"

Do Do-hui looked around anxiously for her other friends.

"Manhattan traffic's kind of a mess, right? They'll be here, even if they're late~"

"...Zhang Tian."

Do Do-hui said the man's name.

A Chinese man who'd suddenly shown up one day back when she was in grad school at Princeton.

He'd said he'd gone to college in Hong Kong and come over for his graduate degree.

He wasn't tall, and he acted so naive that Do Do-hui had opened up to him as a fellow student.

Both of them were Asian students, and she'd wanted to help.

Surprisingly, even at a famous elite school, racism was severe.

At the time, Do Do-hui was struggling not only with the stress of her studies but also with her father's business going bankrupt.

She might be his mistress's child, but she couldn't be…