Genius Club

Lin Xian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Seventeen minutes… twenty-one seconds…”

He was going to die?

Honestly, he had mentally prepared for it. If Einstein had told him that July 7th was his death date, Lin Xian would have believed it. After all, the fifth, sixth, and seventh dreams all had undeniable clues pointing to his death on that date. If Einstein could name that day, it would mean he wasn’t lying.

But Lin Xian hadn’t expected this. The answer he received was completely shocking.

Wait a second.

His mind started racing.

First off, Einstein had predicted the exact way he would die—decapitation. That meant the prophecy was probably true. This old man definitely knew things, and Lin Xian believed him.

Second, why had his death date changed? What had caused it to move from July 7th to July 1st, a whole week earlier?

The butterfly effect of time and space had taken place. The future had changed.

But what was the cause? What was the turning point that couldn’t be undone?

Most likely, it had something to do with Elon Musk!

Earlier, Elon Musk’s virtual image had disappeared, and many people thought he was dead—even Copernicus put on a show of grief. But Lin Xian was 100% sure Elon Musk wasn’t dead.

What kind of idiot would get killed after knowing their death date and being aware of a traitor lurking around?

Maybe an ordinary person would. But not Elon Musk—a genius wouldn’t make such a dumb mistake.

So, it was obvious. Elon Musk’s disappearance was a fake death, a trick—a “prince replaced by a civet cat” kind of thing.

Following that line of thinking: Elon Musk, who was supposed to die, didn’t. Given his influence and achievements, it wasn’t surprising that this altered the timeline.

But this time, the butterfly effect was enormous—not only changing Elon Musk’s fate but also somehow moving Lin Xian’s death closer.

For now, Lin Xian could only piece together a rough explanation. He would have to work out the details properly once he survived the next seventeen minutes.

Right now, his main goal was to stay alive.

According to Einstein, his death would happen in his own living room, by the front door. That meant the killer would come to his house.

The best thing to do was leave.

He hadn’t imagined his first Genius Club meeting would end like this.

It felt a little embarrassing. After all, he’d just mocked Copernicus, and now he had to run. Wouldn’t that make him look foolish?

Sure enough, as soon as Einstein finished speaking, Copernicus chuckled.

“Well, what a surprise…” He began to clap slowly, smiling as he said, “I never thought today I’d witness not one but two geniuses fall. Truly… an eye-opener.”

Next to him, the middle-aged man, Galileo, remained serious, his voice deep and steady. “Seventeen minutes, being hunted down, a brutal death… Rhine, we may not know who you really are or what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I’m afraid tomorrow’s headlines will tell us everything. As a fellow member of the Genius Club and your senior, I don’t wish for your death. But Einstein’s visions are absolute. We’ve all confirmed this in our ways.”

Before Galileo could finish, Da Vinci let out a scornful laugh.

“Ha, not necessarily!” She looked at the cat mask on Lin Xian’s face and spoke quickly, her tone like that of a caring grandmother, gentle and sincere. “Rhine, why did you ask about the future? What’s your purpose in knowing it?”

After a pause, she continued, “We seek to know the future not to submit to it, but to change it. I have no doubt that Einstein’s prediction is accurate. But anything that hasn’t happened yet can be changed. Just like what we do here and the question you answered when you got your invitation… We gather to create the future!”

“This future isn’t just about human civilization—it’s also your future. I believe that everyone’s future is in their own hands.”

“So don’t treat an unfulfilled future like a fixed history—even if it’s just seventeen minutes away. The wood hasn’t been carved, the drop hasn’t fallen; there’s still time.”

“Exactly,” Newton agreed, standing in solidarity with Da Vinci.

For Newton, an enemy’s enemy was a friend. When Lin Xian first joined, Newton’s approval of him had skyrocketed because of his mocking of Copernicus.

Lin Xian wasn’t sure if Newton had figured out the answer to the “time machine principle” question he’d asked earlier, but one thing was clear—Newton was willing to help.

With an exaggerated look at his watch, Newton yelled, “Einstein! Now that everyone’s had their turn, isn’t it time to wrap up? My grandkids are waiting for me—I can almost hear them pounding on my living room door. Can we call it a day already?”

Lin Xian wasn’t stupid. He could tell Newton was rushing the end of the meeting for his sake. And while taking off the VR goggles and running might have been an option, Newton clearly saw everyone on the right-hand chairs as being on his side.

Indeed, everyone here lived up to the title of “genius.” They were all good actors, with plenty of tricks up their sleeves.

Hearing Newton’s urging, Einstein nodded slowly, raising both hands.

“Very well. Now that our final genius has gotten his answer, as per our agenda, today’s meeting is over. Rhine, as Miss Da Vinci said, we’re here to change the future—to steer it towards a brighter outcome. So, I sincerely hope that a month from now, at our next meeting on August 1st, we’ll see that cat mask of yours again. It’s brought a unique energy to our club.”

“And with that, meeting adjourned!”

As Einstein ended the meeting, the members stood, disappearing one by one.

Across from Lin Xian, Gauss spoke slowly: “Rhine… don’t… take… the elevator… it will…”

“Thank you, Gauss.” Lin Xian cut him off, waving goodbye. “Talk next time!”

And with that, he yanked off the VR goggles—

The bright, bustling hall disappeared, replaced by his dimly lit living room, and… a glowing phone screen on the coffee table, with Zhao Ying Jun’s call.

Since his phone was on silent, there hadn’t been any ringing or vibrating, so Lin Xian hadn’t noticed.

“Ying Jun’s calling me…” Lin Xian quickly reacted. “Qiao Qiao must be in trouble.”

Not wasting a second, he grabbed the phone, answered, and dashed out the door, sprinting down the stairs.

“Hello?”

“Lin Xian! Qiao Qiao is missing!”

On the other end, Zhao Ying Jun’s voice was filled with panic.

“I… I don’t know when she disappeared. I got up, and she wasn’t in bed. I called out, but there was no answer, so I started looking for her. I found blood on the bathroom floor! I kept searching and saw that Qiao Qiao had taken off her pajamas and put on those workout clothes she hardly likes. She usually prefers dresses! And the kitchen knife is missing! What is she doing? Is she sleepwalking? I’ve called you four or five times before you picked up… I’m heading out to find her now. Should we call the police?”

“I’ll handle it.” Lin Xian had already figured out what was happening.

At this time of night, wearing workout clothes, and armed with a kitchen knife…

What else could Yan Qiao Qiao be planning but coming for his head?

Although he still didn’t know all the details, it was most likely that Yan Qiao Qiao had regained her memories, turning back into Lin Yu Xi, and was ready to complete her unfinished mission!

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Lin Xian reassured Zhao Ying Jun before hanging up.

There was no time to explain further—he had less than seventeen minutes left before his predicted death.

His priority was to get out alive!

Ending the call, Lin Xian went full parkour mode, darting down the stairs with rapid jumps. His descent was even faster than taking the elevator.

With a final jump, he landed in the lobby, quickly making his way towards the exit.

He glanced at his phone to check the time, noticing that aside from Zhao Ying Jun’s four missed calls, there were also twenty-seven missed calls from Liu Feng.

Liu Feng?

Calling at this hour could only mean one thing—something had changed with the time clock!

This was important information, and he had to find out.

He sprinted towards the back gate while dialing Liu Feng.

Liu Feng picked up immediately, shouting: “Lin Xian! Why do you never pick up your phone?!”

“No time for that,” Lin Xian replied, still running. “What’s going on? Did the time clock reading change?”

“Yes.” Liu Feng was much more composed than Gauss, getting straight to the point. “The space-time curvature has changed to negative 0.0000042.”

“What?” Lin Xian was puzzled. “Negative? Has the timeline dropped?”

Running at full speed while talking left Lin Xian slightly breathless. He weaved through the greenery, catching sight of the neighborhood’s south gate up ahead.

A negative reading…

The timeline’s curvature turning negative was surprising, but it made sense.

After all, space-time curvature wasn’t an absolute value—it was a relative one.

Liu Feng had zeroed the clock with time particles during the fourth dream, meaning that any change afterward—positive or negative—was measured against that baseline.

Lin Xian’s understanding was that the further from the zero point, the greater the curvature value would be, whether positive or negative. For example, -0.0000336 and +0.0000336 were equally far from the zero timeline—just in different directions.

So, what was the significance of positive versus negative?

The fourth dream, or the zero timeline, had the most advanced technology, without any major catastrophes. Moving positively, the disasters got worse while Earth’s abandoned state improved—but conditions on Mars got worse.

It was hard to find any absolute pattern since the factors affecting time were so many and varied—Earth’s environment, technological advances, population, Mars colonization, historical figures…

Too many variables, all intertwined. But if the timeline was moving towards zero, it was likely heading back towards the fourth dream’s future.

Even if it went past zero to negative.

Based on Lin Xian’s theory, timelines close to zero—whether slightly above or below—should have similar worlds. Like the fifth and sixth dreams—same overall picture, just slightly different details.

With that logic, the current negative timeline should be similar to the world where soldiers surrounded him and Copernicus kidnapped him.

Could it be…

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes.

Could it be that Lin Yu Xi regained her memories because the timeline dropped back to one that originally included her?

It was very possible!

The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.

Lin Yu Xi came from the zero timeline. When the time particles were destroyed, and her future disappeared, she was abandoned by time itself. Her future traits vanished, and her memories went with them.

It made sense—since her existence depended on a future that no longer existed, she logically should have disappeared too. She only survived in 2024 because the entangled time particles reversed causality, making her the “cause” and the future the “effect.”

With the “effect” gone, the “cause” could remain. But that meant any enhancements or memories tied to the future would vanish.

This was different from Yellow Finch, who crossed several timelines without losing her memories or existence because the particles supporting her remained intact.

Time particles are the root—the core that allows a traveler to stay.

Using regular time particles for travel—like Yellow Finch—meant that if the particles were destroyed, she would disappear along with their energy. Only entangled particles worked differently; even if they were destroyed, the person’s basic existence would persist.

Like what happened with Lin Yu Xi.

Lin Xian gritted his teeth, leaping over a flowerbed.

He was only a few dozen meters from the south gate but still hadn’t figured out the logic behind Yu Xi’s regained memories.

Her memories and enhancements should have been part of the zero timeline. But now they were back—in a negative timeline!

Where did they come from?

There were two possibilities:

First, maybe the timeline dropped in steps, just like how it ascended before, moving one increment at a time. If so, it could be that it briefly passed through the zero timeline, allowing Lin Yu Xi to recover some memories.

The second possibility was that Yu Xi existed in both timelines because they were adjacent to each other.

If this were true, the memories in her mind now weren’t from the zero timeline but from the negative timeline!

A bold guess. If correct, then the memories she had were hers but not truly hers—they belonged to another version of her.

It was complicated but not hard to understand.

Lin Yu Xi, from the zero timeline, lost her memories, then inherited those from the negative version of herself.

Lin Xian didn’t know which theory was right, but one thing was certain:

Yu Xi had regained her memories!

For now, survival came first!

Suddenly, Lin Xian thought of the white mini-fridge with the entangled time particles inside. He shouted into the phone: “Liu Feng! Check the fridge—see if the time particles have charged, if they’ve gained any energy!”

“No!” Liu Feng answered without hesitation. “I wasn’t idle while you didn’t pick up! I checked the fridge, and there’s no change in the particles. They’re as stable as ever—no fluctuations at all. I’m starting to doubt my own theory that they could recharge.”

Lin Xian clicked his tongue.

Wrong… he had been wrong all along.

So, Yu Xi’s regained memories had nothing to do with the particles. Who would’ve thought the timeline would drop?

Lesson learned.

“That’s it for now, talk tomorrow.”

Lin Xian reached the south gate, hanging up on Liu Feng. With only thirteen minutes left until Einstein’s predicted death, he was pushing himself harder than ever—even beyond his high school parkour championship days.

It seemed adrenaline truly was the strongest motivator—only life-threatening danger could bring out his full potential.

He put his phone away, grabbed the gate’s railing, and vaulted over, landing in the street as the security guard stared in shock.

Luck was on his side—there was a taxi waiting nearby.

Lin Xian approached, opening the front passenger door.

“Driver, take me—”

He froze mid-sentence.

It felt like he’d been thrown into a freezer—his entire body went cold, his scalp prickling.

Sitting in the back seat was a girl with pale skin and a cold expression.

She looked about seventeen or eighteen, wearing tight clothing. Her long black hair flowed smoothly over her shoulders, her arm’s muscles visible beneath her rolled-up sleeves.

But what terrified him the most were her bright blue eyes—staring straight at him.

Lin Xian recognized her immediately. He’d seen this girl before.

She was the one from the sixth dream—in the underground winter base—who had claimed to be Yan Qiao Qiao, even though she looked nothing like her.

And she was also the blue-eyed village chief from the seventh dream.

Lin Xian instantly knew he was in trouble. He turned to run, but—

BOOM!

A deafening crash as the taxi’s back door was kicked off, flying several meters before skidding across the pavement, sparking as it went.

In the same moment, two streaks of blue light shot forward in the dark, as if she had teleported right behind him.

She was too fast—faster than anything on Earth.

Even with Lin Xian’s parkour skills and heightened reflexes, he couldn’t dodge her unnatural strength.

The tall, blue-eyed girl grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed him onto the ground.

“Cough!”

The blow crushed his chest, forcing a metallic taste into his mouth.

But she didn’t stop. She pulled a sharp knife from her waist—its blade gleaming in the moonlight—and swung it at Lin Xian’s neck. He closed his eyes—

CLANG!

A clear sound of metal clashing.

Lin Xian felt a cold breeze hit him, but the knife never fell—his neck was still intact!

He opened his eyes to a surprising sight.

In the chilling moonlight, a small girl stood before him, her short ponytail swaying. She wore a black and white tracksuit, blue ribbons tied in her hair.

She had no visible muscles, but her body was taut, her arms holding a kitchen knife, locking it against the blue-eyed girl’s blade.

Lin Xian’s eyes widened, his breath catching.

“Yan… Qiao Qiao?”