Genius Club

Explaining that your parents live on the moon isn’t easy. That’s what Lin Xian found out as he tried to make sense of Zheng Xiang Yue’s unusual belief.

Zheng Xiang Yue, nearly fourteen, seemed to think like a much younger child, around seven or eight years old. Could it be because she’d spent most of her life in the hospital, never going to school or exploring the world outside? It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart; Zheng Xiang Yue was actually quite clever.

“Xiang Yue, time for your check-up!” a nurse called from outside the room, signaling that it was time for her to go. Zheng Cheng He carefully set his sister down, and she waved cheerfully at them before following the nurse out.

“Sorry about that,” Zheng Cheng He apologized after she left. “My sister has been in and out of the hospital since she was very young. She thinks about things in a simple way, like a kid might.”

“When she was little, she used to ask me where our parents went after they died. I told her they went to the moon. I said, ‘Whenever you miss them, just look up at the moon. They’re watching over you from there.'”

“She really took it to heart and believed it. Even as she grew up, she held onto that idea. She even dreams of being buried on the moon so she can be with our parents and keep an eye on me every night.” As he shared this, Zheng Cheng He sighed deeply. “But I can’t lose Xiang Yue. She’s all the family I have. If one of us has to go, it’ll be me. I can’t bear the thought of her going before me.”

Lin Xian gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. In front of his sister, Zheng Cheng He always appeared strong, but now, his vulnerability was evident. Zheng Xiang Yue’s condition was more serious than he let on. Congenital heart disease, a silent killer, often gives no warning signs. A sudden attack could be fatal, and so patients like her couldn’t leave the hospital and required constant monitoring.

Lin Xian had noticed earlier that although Zheng Xiang Yue seemed to move freely, wires could be seen peeking from under her sleeves, likely connected to monitors that would alert the staff if her heart rhythm became abnormal.

As Zheng Cheng He had mentioned, children with severe forms of this disease rarely lived long. Making it to their teens was nearly miraculous, and for Zheng Xiang Yue, every birthday could be her last.

“Technology is improving quickly; keep hope,” Lin Xian encouraged him. “You know about Professor Xu Yun’s research. Those hibernation pods he’s working on could make managing Xiang Yue’s condition much easier in the future.”

“Thank you,” Zheng Cheng He nodded with gratitude. “What should I call you, by the way?”

“I’m Lin Xian. Just Lin Xian is fine. You’re older; no need to be formal.”

The hospital was a reminder of the world’s suffering, which Lin Xian couldn’t alleviate on his own. Each floor was filled with patients like Zheng Xiang Yue, all fighting against time. This was the harsh truth of life: birth, aging, sickness, death—these were natural forces no one could escape.

That’s why the work of Professor Xu Yun and his colleague Tang Xin was so crucial. Their success with the hibernation pods could potentially change humanity’s fate, giving people the ability to bypass time and grasp new opportunities. Yet, some, like Zhou Duan Yun, were trying to stop them. What did they gain from hindering human progress?

Lin Xian had thought about this without finding any answers. Perhaps, as Yellow Finch hinted, the answers were in the Genius Club, and joining it might reveal them. Why had Yellow Finch brought him here today? There was always a deeper meaning to her actions. Could he have missed something important?

The hospital’s private rooms, especially in a crowded city like Donghai, were rare and costly. Considering Zheng Cheng He and his sister’s background as orphans with little money, how could they afford such expensive care?

“You should spend more time with your sister. She really relies on you,” Lin Xian said, probing further. “What do you do for work?”

“I drive a taxi,” Zheng Cheng He answered simply. “I drive during the day and spend nights here with Xiang Yue, helping with her treatments.”

The mention of taxis reminded Lin Xian of something unsettling. There had been taxi-related incidents—on New Year’s Eve, a taxi had fatally struck Xu Yun; and more recently, Tang Xin had been hit by one. Assassins often used taxis for their anonymity and ease of escape.

“Forgive me for asking, but the money from driving a taxi doesn’t seem like it would cover such high medical bills, does it?” Lin Xian asked.

“True,” Zheng Cheng He smiled. “Luckily, people like Professor Xu Yun have helped us. Xiang Yue gets excellent care thanks to a special medical fund for children here in Donghai, which covers her ongoing treatments.”

“That’s fortunate,” Lin Xian acknowledged.

After saying goodbye to Zheng Cheng He, Lin Xian left the room deep in thought. With thousands of taxis in Donghai, and each one typically shared by two drivers, there were over 200,000 taxi drivers in total. Nothing about Zheng Cheng He’s job was inherently suspicious.

Yet, all these thoughts assumed that Yellow Finch hadn’t orchestrated this meeting for a reason. If it was just a coincidence, he wouldn’t think much of it. But considering the circumstances, he had to wonder—Was Zheng Cheng He connected to the deaths of Xu Yun and Tang Xin? Could he actually be the one responsible?

“Hard to say,” Lin Xian mused as he exited the elevator. Identifying common traits among confirmed culprits like Zhou Duan Yun and Ji Shui showed they all shared sudden rises to success despite tragic pasts. While driving a taxi didn’t seem like a success story, given their backgrounds, it was a significant achievement.

“No way…” Lin Xian shook his head, struggling with the idea. Appearances could be misleading, but Zheng Cheng He didn’t seem like a murderer. Yet, if he was involved somehow, that might explain their improved living conditions.

Lin Xian knew he couldn’t figure it out just by asking. He needed a different approach, starting with Zheng Xiang Yue. Since Zheng Cheng He worked days, Lin Xian planned to visit the hospital the next morning after seeing Zhao Ying Jun. Pretending to visit another patient, he could casually talk to Zheng Xiang Yue without arousing suspicion.

Ding—

The elevator opened on the first floor. Lin Xian stepped out, took the keys to a Ferrari from his pocket, and prepared to return the car Yellow Finch had borrowed without permission.

He approached the Ferrari, pressed the unlock button, and watched the scissor doors rise slowly.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called from behind. Lin Xian turned to see Su Su driving her red McLaren towards him. She rolled down the window and leaned out, surprising him because he’d thought she’d left long ago.

“You drive well,” Su Su said, showing a QR code for her WeChat contact on her phone. “Add me. Let’s go racing sometime!”

Lin Xian smiled, “I told you, I don’t own a car.”

“You!” Su Su’s expression changed instantly. She clenched her teeth. “Ungrateful jerk! Hmph!”

Vroom!!! The McLaren roared away, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind.

“Well…” Lin Xian scratched his head, “I really don’t own a car. This Ferrari isn’t mine.”

The next day, at MX Company on the 22nd floor, Lin Xian walked into Zhao Ying Jun’s office. She paused her work and looked at him curiously. “How did your blind date go yesterday?” she asked.

“It ended after you left,” Lin Xian replied. “We had nothing to talk about. Clearly not a match.”

Zhao Ying Jun blinked. “Are you planning to stay in touch?”

“We didn’t exchange contacts,” Lin Xian answered.

“I see.” Zhao Ying Jun chuckled, picked up a pen, and resumed her work. “Chu Shan He probably set it up for a friend. Don’t worry about it.”

Lin Xian nodded. “You said there was a lot of work for me… What is it? I’ll get started.”

“Oh, there’s not much work. We’re not that busy lately; everything is on track.” Zhao Ying Jun pulled a stamped A4 paper from the file cabinet. “Yesterday afternoon, the Donghai police sent this transfer order. It’s addressed to our company, but whether you go or not is up to you.”

“What is it?” Lin Xian frowned. “A transfer order?”

“Yes, they want to assign you to the special investigation team for Xu Yun’s case.” Zhao Ying Jun handed him the A4 paper. “Take a look.”