Genius Club

“A fake history?” Zhou Duan Yun asked, puzzled. “What do you mean? How can history be fake?”

“History is just a record of events that have already happened,” replied Ji Lin. “But when Pride talks about making history, he’s really planning future events.”

Zhou Duan Yun nodded, understanding now. Pride, the powerful old man, always talked about history as if it wasn’t tied to the past. Zhou Duan Yun suspected Pride was following someone else’s orders, but he never dared to ask. He knew Pride was capable of destroying anyone who crossed him.

Pride’s actions were always mysterious to Zhou Duan Yun. It seemed like he was either killing people or planning to kill more. Yet, Zhou Duan Yun wasn’t overly concerned. Working with Pride had given him opportunities he had always dreamed of. He felt he deserved these opportunities and saw working for Pride as a means to gain more.

“I get it,” Zhou Duan Yun said finally. “You want to create an event from nothing and make sure it happens. Then, in the future, it will be remembered as history.”

“Exactly. It has to happen to become real history,” Ji Lin agreed.

“But how can you be sure Lin Xian will get involved?” Zhou Duan Yun asked. “He’s very cautious now. He might just ignore your fabricated events to stay safe.”

“He won’t,” Ji Lin assured, looking at the fake chat logs on the table. Both were crafted messages from Tang Xin, sent at 00:42, suggesting a secret affair.

“If Lin Xian finds out that someone will die on the streets at the same time as Xu Yun and Tang Xin, he can’t ignore it. That’s just who he is.”

“It’s not about compassion,” Ji Lin corrected him, shaking his head. “It’s about the challenge. If we give him a chance to catch us, he won’t let it slide.”

Meanwhile, at MX Company, Lin Xian was in his office on the 20th floor, looking into the research institute where Tang Xin worked. He was trying to find information about its director but was coming up empty.

Thinking it over, he decided to change his approach. Tang Xin had once mentioned that the person who invited her to Donghai was Xu Yun’s former mentor. So, Lin Xian started searching online for “Xu Yun’s teacher.”

The search results were overwhelming. Numerous people claimed to be Xu Yun’s teacher, some even giving interviews about it. Elementary teachers, middle and high school teachers, college professors—the list was exhaustive.

“They’re all seeking attention,” Lin Xian muttered to himself.

Realizing he needed a more targeted search, he opened Xu Yun’s verified professional profile. Xu Yun had not attended Donghai University for his undergraduate studies. Instead, he went to a university in the northwest and later attended Donghai University for his graduate studies, where he eventually became a faculty member.

“The person Tang Xin met must be Xu Yun’s mentor from his graduate or doctoral studies,” Lin Xian concluded. “People usually refer to their undergrad teachers as ‘teachers,’ but they call their graduate or doctoral advisors ‘mentors.’”

He found Xu Yun’s graduation years: a master’s in 2004 and a PhD in 2007. Lin Xian’s next step was simple—check the graduation photos and records from those years in the university library.

Taking a taxi to Donghai University, Lin Xian faced an obstacle at the entrance—the security guard wouldn’t let him in without a student ID.

“Security has really tightened,” Lin Xian noted. He needed a student ID to access the library, so he called Chu An Qing for help.

Soon enough, Chu An Qing arrived, her high ponytail bouncing. “Hey, Lin Xian! What brings you here?”

“I need to check something in the library,” Lin Xian replied with a smile. “Funny, they call it our university for life, yet they lock us out after we graduate.”

Chu An Qing laughed and guided him inside the university and to the library. She was popular among the students working there, which made their search much easier.

“What year are you looking for?” she asked.

“2004 and 2007,” Lin Xian answered. “Just the master’s and PhD records.”

As they sifted through the dusty, disorganized records, Chu An Qing struck up a conversation. “By the way, has my dad been in touch with you recently?”

“President Chu?” Lin Xian shook his head. “No, why? Is there something he needs?”

“Well,” Chu An Qing hesitated, not wanting to bring up her aunt’s matchmaking schemes. “My parents might want to introduce you to someone.”

“Oh,” Lin Xian laughed. “I’ve never been set up before.”

“You’ve never been on a blind date?” Chu An Qing asked, intrigued.

“No, I only graduated last year. Plus, I don’t have any family here.”

“So, what kind of girls do you like?” Chu An Qing leaned in, thinking of her bold aunt. “Do you like cool girls?”

“Cool girls?” Lin Xian thought of CC, then looked at Chu An Qing, who reminded him of her. “Yeah, cool girls are interesting.”

Chu An Qing cleared her throat. “I mean, girls who like racing, are quick-tempered, argue a lot, and are confrontational.”

Thinking of CC’s feisty nature, Lin Xian found it annoying but somehow endearing when looking at Chu An Qing’s sweet expression. “It’s fine, as long as they’re good people.”

Chu An Qing’s heart fluttered. Could Lin Xian really be interested in someone like her aunt?

“Found it,” Lin Xian announced, flipping to a graduation photo from Xu Yun’s PhD ceremony. The faded picture showed a younger Xu Yun laughing, standing next to an older man with white hair who looked at him with pride.

“This must be Xu Yun’s mentor,” Lin Xian mused, noting the name under the photo: Ji Xin Shui.