Genius Club

“Wow! Wow! This is amazing! I want to try too!” A voice filled with excitement echoed through Lin Xian’s Bluetooth earphones. It was VV, a super-intelligent AI known for its overly dramatic nature.

VV was ecstatic, watching Chu An Qing stand at the highest point in Manhattan, recreating the iconic Titanic scene. The thrill was simply overwhelming for VV.

Like a dog unleashed, VV was itching to leap out of the earphones and immerse itself in the dramatic reenactment. But alas, VV was confined to the realms of circuits and code, unable to escape its digital existence. Yet, it didn’t hold back from nudging Lin Xian: “Hurry up, Lin Xian! What are you waiting for? Go and embrace her from behind right now! Spread your arms around her and face the Statue of Liberty together, whisper the famous line from Titanic into her ear.”

VV’s voice turned sultry and enticing: “Winning that ticket was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.”

“Come on! Don’t just leave her standing there, it’s impolite! She’s clearly inviting you to join in her Titanic moment. Just hug her! I’ve even set it up so the hotel speakers will play ‘My Heart Will Go On’ the moment you embrace her. This is your moment, your center stage!”

“Embrace her, already! Haven’t you seen Titanic? Oh, it’s agony waiting! I’m sending you a reference image, just follow it!”

Ding-dong.

As VV finished, Lin Xian’s phone lit up with an image. He saw the memorable Titanic scene—Rose at the ship’s bow, arms spread wide, facing the vast ocean and the Statue of Liberty, while Jack supported her from behind, giving her the sensation of flying.

“See? Just hug her like that! She’s making it so obvious. Why else would she choose that pose, that line? It’s like Rose and Jack—she’s the affluent heiress, you’re the struggling artist. You two are perfect for each other, just embrace her!”

VV was frantic, its electronic voice straining with urgency. Observing Lin Xian’s hesitation, VV’s frustration escalated, pounding Lin Xian’s eardrums with its bass: “Idiot! You’re being so foolish! She’s gone to such lengths for you, and you can’t even play along? You won’t even set off fireworks for her, and now you’re refusing to join in her scene? I’m so disappointed in you.”

“Can you please back off?” Lin Xian turned around, his voice low, his hand covering his mouth. “I know the movie well enough. Everyone on Earth has seen Titanic.”

“But really, why are you always around? You should be evolving, monitoring our surroundings, doing your job… Kevin Walker is right under our noses, and you’re caught up in these fantasies?”

“I still believe Kevin Walker hasn’t shown any real hostility yet. But tonight, I’m going to probe the old man from 600 years in the future in my dream, see how he reacts to Kevin Walker’s name.”

“If his reaction confirms he is Kevin Walker, then VV, you’re celebrating prematurely. We’ll definitely face Kevin sooner or later. And if that old man truly is Kevin, we might have to eliminate the younger Kevin to prevent him from controlling me in my dreams for the next 600 years! There’s no time for Hollywood drama right now.”

VV, still unable to contain its excitement, insisted: “I’m multitasking perfectly. I’m still evolving on the Tianhe-2 supercomputer back in X Country, making sure not to leave any traces for Kevin Walker to find. Once you bring me back, I’ll be even stronger.”

“And don’t change the subject! Honestly, Lin Xian, after analyzing the women in your life, I genuinely believe Chu An Qing is the best match for you. If it were up to me, I’d bet on her.”

Lin Xian chuckled at this: “VV, isn’t that a bit biased? You were created by Zhao Ying Jun, named by her, and now you’re rooting for Chu An Qing. If anyone’s betraying loyalties, it’s you.”

“You mention these things, but I don’t remember them,” VV lamented through the earphones. “Though you’ve told me these tales—that I come from 600 years in the future, created by Zhao Ying Jun and a team of top scientists in a sky city, that it took over a century to make me—I see them as just a backstory. To me, they don’t feel real.”

“I’ve never met Zhao Ying Jun, never seen the sky city, never played paper ball games with her, never picked up trash in front of her statue for centuries. So, even if you keep talking about her, it doesn’t resonate with me. In any case, I’m betting on Chu An Qing!”

Lin Xian exhaled deeply and finally understood why Professor Xu Yun chose to die in this era, never seeing his daughter awake, rather than entering hibernation and losing his memories.

He also saw why Zhao Ying Jun, in his third dream, opted to wake every ten years to retain her memories for six months, risking physical and mental strain rather than forgetting her past.

Memories carried weight. Lin Xian had always underestimated their importance, thinking they could be stored in a diary or a video. But now, he saw the truth.

Memories weren’t just records; they were emotions, feelings, experiences etched into the soul. A diary couldn’t capture the full spectrum of human emotions, nor the complexity of a life lived. Losing one’s memory was an irretrievable loss.

Just like VV now. No matter how often Lin Xian recounted the story of Rhine Sky City, it didn’t resonate with VV. It didn’t remember the sky city, nor Zhao Ying Jun. To VV, Zhao Ying Jun was just a character in a story, distant and unrelatable.

“You’ve simply forgotten her,” Lin Xian concluded, a hint of sadness in his tone. “When we get the chance, I’ll take you to meet Zhao Ying Jun, and that Pomeranian too. You can pay your respects.”

“What was that?!” VV’s bass thundered again in Lin Xian’s ears.

…

“Hey!” Chu An Qing hopped down from the white stone steps, dusting off her hands. “Hehe, that was so much fun. Thanks, Lin Xian, for bringing me here and sharing so much about New York, Manhattan, and the center of the world.”

“I only know a little bit,” Lin Xian replied with a smile. “I just like showing off in front of you.”

He glanced up at the sky. The moon was high.

“It’s getting late. Let’s head back and rest,” Lin Xian suggested, looking down at Chu An Qing, who was gazing up at him. “You must be tired from all the travel.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “See you tomorrow morning, Lin Xian.”

“I might not be up in the morning,” he admitted. “I’ll probably sleep till noon.”

“Then see you at noon!”

“Not exactly noon,” Lin Xian smiled sheepishly. He planned to wake up naturally, which would be when the white light appeared in his dream, making noon too early.

“Oh, I see,” Chu An Qing’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She stood up straight, waved, and said with a grin: “In that case, good morning, good afternoon… and good night.”

…

At that moment, Lin Xian’s smile froze. Time seemed to blend together. He saw the figures of CC and Chu An Qing overlapping… They looked identical. Even their parting words were the same—a line from The Truman Show, and something CC once said outside a junkyard in his second dream.

In an instant, it felt like 600 years of history were summed up in that simple “good night.” What was real? What was illusion? Was it possible that after bidding good night to CC… he would never see her again?

There was no sign of CC in his third dream, and in his fourth, he couldn’t even take a step further, let alone search for her. Where was she? Would they ever meet again?

He still hadn’t unraveled why CC and Chu An Qing looked so alike, nor cracked the password for the aluminum alloy safe, nor understood the connection between the bearded man, VV, and himself.

If only he could meet CC again. She might still remember their adventures in the second dream, sneaking into a garbage truck and exploring New Donghai City. If so, their next reunion wouldn’t need introductions—they’d already be friends.

Just like Chu An Qing now, CC would be colder, but her eyes would still hold a smile: “Lin Xian, long time no see.”

Lin Xian returned to the present, nodding under the moonlight: “See you tomorrow.”

…

Back in his hotel suite, Lin Xian prepared for sleep. In New York, it was equivalent to 1 PM in X Country—a perfect time for a nap and to enter the dream world as early as possible.

“Actually, this is another important clue. Why do my dream entry and exit times always align with X Country’s local time, no matter where I am?” Lin Xian pondered aloud.

“Hmm… I’m not sure, but it might be because your dream server is located in X Country, so it follows the local time there,” VV suggested, its voice emanating from the TV.

Lin Xian looked at VV, a hint of suspicion in his eyes: “What do you mean?”

“I just had a very unsettling thought,” VV’s tone was unusually grave. “Ever since you mentioned the old man in the dream used the same words as Kevin Walker, I’ve been thinking… combining everything you’ve told me about your dream world, I’ve developed a nagging doubt—Is your dream world actually real?”

The question hung in the air like a chill.

“I’ve confirmed it multiple times,” Lin Xian responded. “There are details in the dream that I don’t know, knowledge I don’t have, and yet everything advanced and historically accurate seems correct. Such a world can’t be fake; only a real future could contain these elements.”

“Lin Xian, you misunderstand,” VV continued. “I’m not saying the items in the dream are fake, or that the future is a lie. I’m just questioning whether your dream world itself might be an illusion.”

“You’ve seen movies like The Matrix and Source Code, right? They depict supercomputers capable of creating a world indistinguishable from reality.”

“From the smallest details to the broadest laws of physics, everything in these virtual worlds aligns with reality. In 2023, such a supercomputer doesn’t exist. But 600 years later? If a supercomputer of that magnitude existed, it could simulate a completely realistic virtual world, one you couldn’t tell apart from the real thing.”

“This virtual world would contain books, knowledge, and history derived from the actual future, so everything would seem accurate to you in 2023. Alternatively, whoever controls this simulation could show you exactly what they want you to see—whether it’s accurate or not.”

“Also, you mentioned that your actions in the real world seem to affect the dream future. Tell me, is this time-space butterfly effect instantaneous?”

“It’s not instantaneous,” Lin Xian shook his head. “There’s always a delay. I even came up with theories like time-space anchor points and elasticity laws to explain it. But I can’t verify if these theories are accurate. In my understanding, the time-space effect should be immediate and sensitive.”

“Even a simple act like breathing more air or drinking more water should alter the future. But my dream doesn’t follow this pattern, and I can’t figure out why.”

“If your theory holds, that my dream world is a simulation crafted by someone 600 years in the future, a stage for my unwitting performance,” Lin Xian mused, “they would modify details based on my actions in 2023, giving me the illusion of a butterfly effect. Sometimes they might even switch out the entire dream scene for a new one, just to watch how I react.”

“How is that possible? They are 600 years in the future; how could they know what I did back then, and alter the future simulation based on those actions? It’s unfeasible unless they monitor me around the clock, and even then, there are many places I go that can’t be tracked.”

“Memory,” VV stated flatly. “Your memory is the only link between now and 600 years later. If your dream world is a simulation, your memory serves as the perfect medium.”

“They could access your memories, know your actions in 2023, and predict potential time-space effects. Then, using the supercomputer’s capabilities, they could adjust the simulated dream world accordingly.”

“Minor effects might be ignored; small alterations might be tweaked slightly; significant events might trigger a completely new dream scenario.”

“So, Lin Xian, while I can’t be sure, the more I learn about your dream world, the more I feel obliged to caution you because your dream is the one place I can’t reach, observe, or assist you. You must be vigilant—Your dream might be a virtual game created by enemies, a stage set for you.”

…

VV’s words plunged Lin Xian into deep contemplation. He finally understood the unease he had been feeling. He began to question the reality of his dream world. He doubted the consistency of the time-space laws he had theorized.

Often, he expected changes that never came, and when he least expected them, time-space effects occurred. Additionally, his ability to navigate his dreams was becoming increasingly restricted. From exploring a world, to visiting two cities, to being confined to a sky city, and now to a grand but limited fourth dream. It all felt less real, more constrained.

Lin Xian couldn’t dismiss VV’s insights. Given the normal progression of technology, it was conceivable that in 600 years, humanity could develop a supercomputer capable of simulating a real world. In 2023, Kevin Walker was already a prodigious hacker. If he survived into the distant future, his capabilities could become unimaginable… perhaps even surpassing the superintelligent VV.

“Wait,” Lin Xian suddenly realized something critical. His heart rate spiked… He turned to face the superintelligent AI he had laboriously brought back from 600 years in the future, letter by letter—VV.

“What about you?” Lin Xian’s voice was laden with uncertainty. “If the entire dream world is a simulation, then you’re something I brought back from this staged reality.”

“VV…” Lin Xian whispered, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in his tone, “Who are you?”