Genius Club

Chapter 453: CCs Verification

“Impossible.” Elon Musk shook his head. “Absolutely impossible.”

Lin Xian didn’t end up having barbecue with Gao Yang. Instead, he took a special car to the Tesla Gigafactory, where he tracked down Elon Musk, who hadn’t yet left X Country.

After hearing Lin Xian’s theory, Elon Musk let out a dry laugh, clearly worried about Lin Xian’s state of mind.

“Lin Xian, have you been under some kind of stress lately? Or maybe you’ve been reading too many fantasy novels?” Elon Musk teased.

“First, you think Copernicus faked his death, and now you’re telling me Einstein might have done the same thing? Ha! I’m sorry, but that’s just too funny. I’ve had professional training to keep a straight face, but even I can’t hold back here.”

Elon Musk laughed openly, continuing, “Einstein’s brain was sliced up for research decades ago. How could he still be alive? And remember, he was born in 1879. If he were alive today, he’d be almost 140 years old. It’s simply not possible for anyone to live that long.”

He paused for effect, a smirk forming on his lips. “Besides, the leader of the Genius Club, the old man wearing the Einstein mask, is sharp and articulate. Does he look like a 140-year-old man to you? Even if you claimed they swapped leaders along the way, that might make sense. But you’re saying he is actually Einstein? Now that’s a stretch.”

Lin Xian sat down across from Elon Musk, countering calmly, “Then why does he forbid us from asking questions about the Genius Club itself?”

“If he’s just an admirer of Einstein or borrowing Einstein’s identity, why make the club’s founding details, its goals, and its origins off-limits to us?”

“Honestly, I don’t see why the founding of the club is such a big secret. If he’s the one who started it, why not share that piece of history with us?”

Elon Musk gave a faint smile, waving his hand dismissively. “No need to overthink this. It’s quite easy to verify, isn’t it? Here’s the plan—”

“At the gathering on September 1st, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this!”

Elon Musk looked at Lin Xian with determination. “You were planning to confirm if Copernicus was dead or not, right? I’ll help you confirm the Einstein situation too.”

“I’ll just ask, ‘Where were Albert Einstein’s ashes scattered?’ Now, that’s a mystery no one has ever solved. Only Einstein’s children knew, and they’re long gone now. There’s supposedly no way for anyone to know that answer—except the club leader, perhaps.”

“I’m curious too. If he can tell us the exact spot where the ashes were scattered, then you can put your suspicions to rest, right? Unless, of course, Einstein’s a ghost.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Sounds good. Let’s go with that question.”

“Call me paranoid if you want, but being careful never hurts. Our enemies are getting more cunning, so it’s wise to keep our guard up.”

…

The next day, August 28, 2024, Time Bank officially opened after almost half a year of trial operations.

The ceremony was grand, with plenty of media coverage.

Lin Xian and Zhao Ying Jun were naturally present, congratulating Brother Wang on finally achieving his childhood dream.

Brother Wang shook Lin Xian’s hand excitedly. “Thank you so much, Lin Xian! You can rest assured—I’ve written everything you asked for into the regulations. Even if Time Bank goes under, we’ll stick to these principles!”

“Every 100-year anniversary, we’ll rent as many airships as possible and fly them over Donghai City to celebrate—whether it’s the 100th, 200th, or even the 600th or 800th anniversary. We’ll fill the sky with balloons and airships for the entire day!”

Lin Xian smiled faintly, saying nothing.

It would be wonderful if this tradition continued.

Unfortunately, the global super-disaster of the year 2400 would lay waste to everything. Not just Time Bank, but Donghai City itself would be leveled, and 95% of the world’s population would be wiped out. Airships would never fly again.

But if the 2400 disaster could be prevented, then everything would be possible. And that was one of Lin Xian’s future goals.

That night, it seemed fortune was on Time Bank’s side.

The United States and the European Union jointly announced that mass-produced hibernation pods were officially going on sale, and the major hibernation bases were open for business.

The U.S. also signed the “Hibernation Act (Draft)” with many other countries. Although it was only a draft and certainly imperfect, as the first official regulation on hibernation in human history, its emergence marked the dawn of the hibernation era.

In X Country, major government agencies also announced that mass production of hibernation pods and the opening of hibernation bases would be completed by the end of 2024, along with the introduction of corresponding legislation.

The year 2024 was truly the first year of the hibernation era.

Just as Brother Wang had envisioned, the hibernation pods quickly reached ordinary households, and Time Bank’s business began to boom.

After dealing with these mundane tasks, Lin Xian finally had time to enter the dream world and look for CC, hoping to verify the connection between the Millennium Stake and the nightmare.

After an early lunch, Lin Xian filled VV, his Pomeranian’s bowl, lay down on the guest bed, and closed his eyes, drifting into sleep.

…

In the dream, Lin Xian followed the familiar path, perfectly breezing through the events, bringing along Xu Yi Yi and CC to join the Face Gang, and then heading with the four members of the Face Gang to Gao Wen’s underground laboratory.

After ensuring they were on the same page and deciding where to continue studying the blueprints, Gao Wen turned away to prepare.

Meanwhile, Lin Xian took the opportunity to ask CC about her dreams.

“Huh?” CC looked genuinely surprised as she listened to Lin Xian. “I don’t dream.”

She blinked, puzzled. “I’ve never had a dream, nor have I ever paid attention to it.”

“Never?” Lin Xian didn’t quite believe it.

“That’s impossible. How could someone never dream?” He turned to Xu Yi Yi. “What about you? Do you dream?”

“Of course I do.” Xu Yi Yi replied, “It’s just that I forget most of them really quickly. There are only a few dreams I remember clearly; the rest, I forget entirely.”

Lin Xian spread his hands, giving CC a pointed look. “See? That’s the issue. It’s not that you don’t dream; it’s that you forget them too fast! Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh.” CC responded casually, not taking it seriously. “Maybe. I’ve always thought it was because I sleep too deeply. Either way, I don’t remember anything about my dreams. So… what’s the plan?”

“It’s simple. Just do as I say,” Lin Xian said, looking around thoughtfully. “First, we need to find a place to sleep.”

???

Suddenly, every eye in the underground lab was staring at them.

What in the world? What kind of wild suggestion was that?

Even Xu Yi Yi blushed, her ears pricking up in astonishment.

“You scoundrel!” Big Cat slapped Lin Xian across the back of his head. “Face Gang rule number 27—no flirting within the group!”

Lin Xian leaned back to dodge. “Are you sure you remember the first 26 rules? You clearly just made that up!”

“Silence! Shameless rogue!” Ah Zhuang shouted, giving Lin Xian a disgusted look. “I’ve never met anyone so brazen in my life!”

“Disgraceful!” Er Zhuzi added, puffing out his chest. “I propose we kick this disgrace out of the Face Gang immediately!”

San Pang’s eyes flashed, and he spoke decisively. “I think not!”

Lin Xian sighed. He was already tired of the stand-up comedy act that was inevitable every time he entered the dream. Dealing with the Face Gang was mentally exhausting.

“That’s not what I meant. Can you all let me finish?” Lin Xian said, looking exasperatedly at the four members of the Face Gang. “And besides, this is between me and CC. What does it have to do with any of you?”

He turned back to CC. “What I was actually trying to say was—”

“I get it,” CC interrupted. “You mean that if I forget my dreams too quickly, then your plan is to shake me awake as soon as I start dreaming and ask me about it immediately. That way, we’ll know if I really don’t dream.”

Lin Xian gave her a thumbs-up. “Smart! And it feels like you’re becoming more understanding lately.”

He remembered the second dream world when he had ridden a motorcycle with CC. Back then, she had been so quick to accuse him of trying to take advantage of her.

Now, she understood him without a word.

She was definitely getting more considerate.

“Can we borrow a room?” Lin Xian asked, looking at Gao Wen.

Gao Wen nodded and pointed upwards. “Use the building above us. There are guest rooms there.”

Shortly after, Lin Xian and CC found themselves in a small room. It was cramped, with just a bed and a set of chairs and a table.

Bang.

Lin Xian shut the door, and suddenly the atmosphere turned awkward. The tiny space, just the two of them alone—Lin Xian felt a bit out of place.

“Maybe I should ask Yi Yi to help instead,” he suggested, pointing at the door. “It’s just about waking you up and asking about your dream—it doesn’t have to be me. Yi Yi can do it just as well.”

“Heh, that’s not like you at all,” CC said, a strange smile tugging at her lips. “Since when did you grow a conscience in this world?”

“I have nothing to feel guilty about,” Lin Xian replied with a shrug. “I’m a gentleman. I’m here for a scientific experiment. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Hmph.” CC huffed lightly, lying down on the bed.

She turned over, facing the wall, her back to Lin Xian.

“Quiet now. I’m going to sleep.”

…

Lin Xian sat quietly on the chair, watching CC’s frail figure as she lay on the bed. He listened to the constant changes in her breathing, knowing full well she wasn’t asleep.

It was obvious.

Normal sleep had a steady, rhythmic breath, but CC’s breathing was erratic. She was lying too still, her posture unmoving since the moment she climbed into bed.

“You can move around, you know,” Lin Xian whispered gently.

“It’s not that,” CC replied, turning to face him. Her gaze met his. “With you staring at me like that, how could I possibly sleep?”

“But I have nowhere else to go,” Lin Xian said, glancing around the small room. “It’s either look at you or stare at the wall. You don’t expect me to sing you a lullaby or tell you a bedtime story, do you?”

CC couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. “How about a boring story then?” she suggested, turning away again, her back facing him. She closed her eyes. “The more boring, the better. It might help me fall asleep.”

Lin Xian hesitated. Interesting stories, he had plenty. But boring ones? That was a challenge.

“How about ‘The Little Mermaid’?” he finally said.

“What’s that?” CC asked.

“A fairy tale,” Lin Xian said, smiling a little. “A childish story for kids.”

“Sounds perfect,” CC replied, adjusting her position to get more comfortable. “Sounds really childish.”

So, Lin Xian leaned back in his chair and started to tell the story of the little mermaid, recalling it from memory.

As he spoke, the image of the little mermaid in his mind slowly transformed into the figure of Yellow Finch. His voice grew softer, his words slower and heavier.

Finally, he reached the end. The little mermaid turned into sea foam, rising into the sky, speaking with the daughters of the air, and earning the love of humans, ascending to a higher, more beautiful place.

There was a long silence.

Neither Lin Xian nor CC spoke.

But Lin Xian knew she wasn’t asleep.

After a while, CC sighed, her voice sounding tired. “Fairy tales about princes and princesses—no matter how many times they’re told, they’re always the same, aren’t they?”

“Either a happily-ever-after wedding or a tragic separation. There’s never anything in between, is there?”

Lin Xian looked up. “That’s because they’re princes and princesses. They’re destined to be special, never just ordinary.”

CC chuckled softly, her eyes closed. “That’s why it’s just a fairy tale,” she said, her voice drifting off.

Lin Xian didn’t say anything more. He watched her back as it relaxed, rising and falling gently with her breaths. Her breathing became steady and even.

She was actually asleep.

“The magic of bedtime stories,” Lin Xian murmured, marveling at the power of a simple tale.

He continued to watch over CC. He recalled what Zhang Yu Qian had said in her videotapes—if the person frowned or their breathing became erratic, it meant they were having a nightmare, and that was the best time to wake them up.

But Lin Xian waited for a full thirty minutes, and CC’s breathing remained calm, without any sign of distress.

That made Lin Xian wonder.

Could it be she really doesn’t have nightmares?

It didn’t make sense. The other two “Millennium Stakes” he had met both had nightmares. Why wouldn’t CC?

“Forget it. Let’s test it directly.”

Lin Xian stood up and forcefully turned CC over, waking her up abruptly.

CC’s eyes flew open, instantly alert, her hand moving to push him away. But Lin Xian was faster, pinning her hands down. “Quick! What did you dream about?” he urged her. “Hurry, tell me what you saw!”

CC lay there, staring up at Lin Xian, her eyes full of disbelief. “You…”

“Me?” Lin Xian asked, confused. “You saw me?”

CC blinked, still dazed, and nodded. “Blue… Blue eyes…”

Lin Xian slowly let go of her wrists. CC rubbed her arms and sat up, running a hand through her hair as she looked at him.

“What did I just say?” she asked.

“You don’t remember?” Lin Xian asked.

CC shook her head. “No, I just remember mumbling something to you, but I can’t recall what it was. I don’t even remember what I dreamed about… Right now, it feels like I didn’t dream at all.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Let’s head out for now. I’ll tell you everything once I’ve figured it out.”

The world was going to be destroyed in a few hours anyway, consumed by a bright white light. Telling CC now wouldn’t change much, especially since Lin Xian himself hadn’t fully pieced everything together yet.

He needed to think it through a bit more.

CC’s dream was entirely different from Zhang Yu Qian’s. Zhang Yu Qian’s dreams were a chaotic montage, like scenes from a movie flashing rapidly. But CC’s dream was simple—just blue eyes and himself.

How was he supposed to interpret that?

If it had only been CC dreaming of him, that would be easy enough to explain. After all, her mind was filled with fragments of memories about him. It would make sense for her to dream of him—you dream about what’s on your mind during the day.

But the blue eyes…

That was the hallmark of a time traveler.

Which meant CC had dreamt of herself as a time traveler.

That made things complicated.

Was it possible that, in her dream, CC saw herself traveling back in time?

It wasn’t entirely impossible.

But…

From which era, which point in time?

“I need more information,” Lin Xian murmured.

…

Over the next three days, every time Lin Xian entered the dream world, he would bring CC along and repeat the process of waking her up, asking about her dreams.

He had hoped to get a few more clues, some keywords that might help.

But each time, things went against his expectations.

No matter how he phrased his questions, or even when he told CC in advance to pay more attention to the details, every time she woke up, she said the same thing:

“It’s you… with blue eyes.”

And once she was fully awake, she remembered nothing at all.

It was exactly like Zhang Yu Qian’s situation. Forget everything upon waking up.

“But the content of the dream—that’s what I can’t figure out,” Lin Xian muttered.

It was August 31st, nearly midnight.

Lin Xian sat in his study, waiting for the monthly Genius Club meeting, but his mind kept going back to the link between Zhang Yu Qian’s and CC’s dreams.

Zhang Yu Qian’s dream had a mushroom cloud, explosions, and Einstein—all chaotic and bizarre.

CC’s dream had him as a time traveler with blue eyes—even more puzzling.

At first glance, there seemed to be no connection between the two.

Upon closer inspection…

Still, nothing.

Unless he wanted to force a theory, there weren’t any convincing leads to follow.

“There’s one more thing,” Lin Xian thought suddenly.

“Even though Zhang Yu Qian couldn’t remember the contents of her dream, she still retained the feelings—the fear, the terror. Even if she forgot the dream itself a few seconds after waking up, she knew she had had a nightmare.”

“But CC’s different. She never said she had nightmares. This means her dreams didn’t impact her emotions deeply. Either they were pleasant dreams or just ordinary ones. In any case, they definitely weren’t nightmares.”

“That’s probably why CC never really cared about whether she dreamed or not. Her dreams had no real effect on her emotions or her life—unlike the memory fragments, which were much more impactful.”

That was another strange point.

Why, even among Millennium Stakes, was CC the only one with memory fragments? What made her different?

The door to the study creaked open, and Zhao Ying Jun entered.

Lin Xian turned to look at her, his eyes falling on her belly. “Still not showing yet?”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Zhao Ying Jun said, touching her stomach. “It’s not even two months yet. It’s normal that there’s no visible change. I can feel the difference, though. You just haven’t been paying enough attention.”

“I’ll pay more attention from now on,” Lin Xian promised, patting the VR glasses on the desk. “Everything’s getting resolved slowly. Maybe after tonight’s meeting, we’ll get the best news.”

“You should rest early, Ying Jun. We’re supposed to go to the capital tomorrow to meet your parents and discuss the wedding, remember?”

“Marriage is a big deal,” Zhao Ying Jun said thoughtfully. “I think we should reconsider. A trip to get married without a ceremony… it feels too rushed. Don’t you think we should have something more meaningful—at least a bit of ceremony?”

She moved behind Lin Xian, wrapping her arms around his neck, and laughed softly. “The romance and meaning you’ve given me are already more than enough. Besides, marriage is between two people. There’s no need to put on a show for everyone else.”

“More importantly… we have a baby on the way. I can skip the role of wife and jump straight into being a mother. Compared to the joy of welcoming a baby, the wedding doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’ve already moved on to the next stage.”

She paused for a moment, then said, “Copenhagen.”

Lin Xian raised an eyebrow. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Of course not. I’m not that petty,” Zhao Ying Jun said, ruffling his hair. “But I do think… shouldn’t we go to the Little Mermaid statue and let Yellow Finch see how happy we are now?”

“Yellow Finch’s greatest regret was not being able to keep her Lin Xian, not being able to stay by her Yu Xi. But now, thanks to her, we have all of this. I think we should thank her.”

“Maybe that’s what Yellow Finch would have wanted most—to see her regrets fulfilled through us.”

Lin Xian nodded. “But a trip and a wedding don’t have to be mutually exclusive. The real question is, will your parents agree?”

“They’d love it,” Zhao Ying Jun said with a smile. “The current trend is to keep weddings simple or not have them at all—no extravagance. My parents fully support us taking this modest approach to such an important life event. In their circle, they actually look down on grand weddings. Everyone prefers to keep it low-key. Sometimes, a simple family dinner is all it takes to mark the occasion.”

“People often crave what they lack. My parents have all the pomp and status they could want—they don’t need an extravagant wedding to prove anything.”

“True,” Lin Xian agreed. “That’s quite different from what my parents think. They believe weddings should be as grand as possible, a major event to announce to the world.”

“But they respect our wishes. Personally, I don’t want anything over the top either. Mainly because…”

He paused, lowering his voice. “Mainly because I feel like I still have so many things left unfinished, so many promises unkept.”

“Take your time,” Zhao Ying Jun said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll follow your lead. There’s a cup of warm milk in the kitchen for you. Drink it after your meeting. I’m heading to bed. I won’t wait up.”

“Alright,” Lin Xian replied. “Goodnight. See you in my dreams.”

He suddenly froze. Those words—he had never said them before. They had slipped out, influenced by CC in his dreams.

He looked up at Zhao Ying Jun, who was just stepping out of the study, and asked, “Do you dream about me?”

“Not much these past two months,” she replied. “Because I know you’re here, at home, right by my side. There’s no need to dream about you. I guess that’s what they call subconscious comfort.”

“But before that…” She turned back, smiling softly. “You were a frequent guest in my dreams.”