Genius Club

This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation

Little Johnny

Little Johnny rubbed his aching knee, gritting his teeth as he chased to the mouth of the alley. But as he peered ahead, he realized… the tall gentleman who had just saved him had already disappeared, walking into a lavishly decorated hotel.

He stood there, silent for a long moment, before deciding to follow.

…

The hour was growing late.

Lin Xian stepped into the hotel and approached the front desk to check in.

The dissolution of the first-generation CC stake was undeniably tragic and heartbreaking. Yet, after his emotions settled, he understood it was an unchangeable fate. It was, after all, the very reason he had traveled back to 1952.

Only by witnessing the formation of a millennial stake firsthand could he deduce its true origin and, in turn, find a way to save CC, Chu An Qing, and all the millennial stakes.

Now, it was time to proceed with the next step of his plan: confirming whether he could still dream.

After selecting a room and completing the registration, Lin Xian signed the name “Douglas” in the hotel ledger.

The clerk glanced at his name, then handed him a key card and a note with both hands. “Mr. Douglas, here is your key card. Please use the elevator just over here.”

The service at this high-end hotel was impeccable, with a staff member personally escorting Lin Xian to his room.

Once inside, Lin Xian shut the door behind him. He took off his coat and hung it neatly on the rack before turning to survey the room.

Quiet. Silent. Empty.

No chattering CC. No figure sprawled across the bed, legs swinging. No Brooklyn girl marveling at the luxurious furnishings.

At this moment, Lin Xian deeply felt the weight of CC’s words:

“This room really is too big.”

He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, square white gift box. Setting it on the table, he opened it to reveal a silver wristwatch worth twenty dollars.

The hour and minute hands still ticked steadily, though the winding mechanism needed a turn. Each twist of the knob felt like a twist in his nerves, amplifying the hollowness of 1952 Brooklyn—a place vast and cold.

After winding the watch, the time read 12:12 a.m. He unfolded a wrinkled note inside the box, the handwriting unmistakably CC’s:

“Remember, daylight saving time ends tomorrow. Don’t forget to set your watch back an hour~”

It was already past midnight—November 3, 1952. Daylight saving time had officially ended, ushering in standard time.

Lin Xian pulled the knob and turned the hands back counterclockwise, setting the watch to 11:12 p.m. of the previous day.

But alas, while the clock hands could move backward, time itself could not. Adjusting the dial was merely self-deception, incapable of changing anything, much like the unyielding grip of history.

Clutching the watch tightly, Lin Xian thought to himself, This is the only thing CC left me—the sole mark she left in this world.

“I have to find a way to take this watch back with me,” he murmured.

But that presented a new challenge.

Returning the watch to 2024 would have been a matter of a few decades, with plenty of viable methods; many buildings and institutions still existed.

But 2024 was no longer an option.

The kite string now tethered to the back of his head connected him to the year 2234—nearly 300 years away.

Three centuries was enough time to corrode the Brooklyn Bridge, topple the Williamsburg Savings Bank Clock Tower, and erase the Empire State Building from existence.

Three hundred years was an eternity. Anything from 1952 was unlikely to survive such a span. Even if he buried the watch in a pit now, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t be unearthed by future developments.

So…

How can I ensure this watch makes it to 2234 intact?

Lin Xian racked his brain, desperate for a foolproof solution. Placing the watch back in its gift box, he undressed and headed for the bathroom.

The day’s fatigue washed away under the warm stream of water. He yawned, a wave of drowsiness overtaking him.

It was time to sleep and see what dreams might come.

After drying himself off and changing into his sleepwear, he switched off the lights and lay on his side, closing his eyes to drift into slumber.

…

…

The soft sound of the summer wind…

The familiar warmth…

Lin Xian’s eyes snapped open to the sight of yellow sand and crumbling ruins.

“Just as I thought—my ability to dream has returned.”

He recognized this environment at once: it was the Ninth Dreamscape, a place he had traversed countless times.

He rushed to a previous excavation site and unearthed an old friend—the “Micro Nuclear Battery Motorcycle.”

Nothing had changed. This was the same familiar dreamscape, the same 0.0001764 worldline.

“It seems everything is back to normal.”

Lin Xian started the motorcycle and sped toward the underground hibernation chamber base where Mai Mai awaited.

Just as he had hoped, the first millennial stake had been driven into place, and with it, his dreamscape returned to its natural state. Everything was now on track.

But what had triggered this shift? Why was he suddenly able to dream of the future again?

“Could it be… that spacetime particle grazing my ear?”

It was the only plausible explanation, though he couldn’t be certain.

This journey to 1952 had proven far more enigmatic than he had anticipated. What began as a quest for truth now raised even more questions.

“I’ll need to delve further into the mysteries of spacetime particles and Einstein,” he resolved.

For now, his first main mission—witnessing the first millennial stake—was complete. The next mission would focus on Einstein.

Two days remained until their scheduled meeting on November 5.

Vroom Vroom!

The electric motorcycle roared at full speed. Familiar paths guided Lin Xian as he navigated the terrain with ease, reaching the vast surface canyon in no time.

He climbed down using vines and activated Mai Mai’s hibernation chamber. Placing the brain neural electric helmet on her, he helped her recover her memories.

The two spent some time chatting, discussing Devouring Heaven Demon Emperor and writing techniques. For now, the worldline seemed completely stable—unchanged, as if nothing had ever shifted.

Then, an idea struck Lin Xian.

“Mai Mai, do you know about Rhine University in Donghai City?” he asked.

“Of course, I do!” Mai Mai replied, her excitement bubbling over. “That’s the world’s number one super university! My dream is to get into Rhine University!”

“Then why didn’t you apply?” Lin Xian inquired.

“Ugh! What kind of ridiculous question is that?” Mai Mai rolled her eyes, scoffing at him. “Do you think I wouldn’t go if I could get in?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Lin Xian murmured, stroking his chin.

He remembered Liu Feng once explaining that Zhao Ying Jun founded Rhine University with the aim of cultivating talents for the future—talents for Lin Xian, for the nation, and for the world. The philosophy embraced a “no-talent-left-behind” approach. Admission scores weren’t excessively high, and the university employed a strategy of teaching to individual strengths. Even students with extreme skill specializations could find a place and thrive.

In Liu Feng’s words:

“Rhine University spans half of Donghai City, with an unimaginable number of schools and programs. Every year, it admits nearly 500,000 freshmen. No university in history has ever had such educational capacity.”

“With that many new students, Lin Xian, you wouldn’t believe it—this is practically the best era for aspiring students. If you have hands, you can get in!”

“And after admission, tuition and fees are incredibly affordable. The living and learning conditions are exceptional. Zhao Ying Jun truly did something that benefits both present and future generations.”

If all it took was “having hands,” how could Mai Mai, with all her limbs intact, fail to get in?

“How many points did you score on your college entrance exam when you applied to Rhine University?” Lin Xian asked curiously.

Mai Mai scratched her head, a bit embarrassed. “Uh, 300-something.”

“300-something!?” Lin Xian’s eyes widened in disbelief. This was a second Zhou Duan Yun—another “300-points” candidate.

Fine. Considering her legendary work, Devouring Heaven Demon Emperor, Lin Xian begrudgingly found it somewhat reasonable.

“Well, your life hasn’t exactly been easy,” he said, his voice tinged with sympathy. Looking at Mai Mai, who was around CC’s age, he couldn’t help but feel pity. “Struggled in school, not very bright, couldn’t get into college, and your writing didn’t gain any traction. Then you hibernated to escape into the future, hoping for a literary renaissance, only for the apocalypse to hit.”

“Keep insulting me, I dare you!” Mai Mai puffed up her chest indignantly.

“Every person is born with a purpose! How do you know I’m not a genius?” she retorted. “And as for the end of the world… maybe the hope to save it lies with me!”

Lin Xian observed her proud, defiant posture and gave a small nod. “You’re not entirely wrong about that.”

Truthfully, he couldn’t have reached this point without Mai Mai.

If she hadn’t survived the catastrophic events of 2600 and led him to the underground hibernation base, he never would’ve learned about the anti-hibernation virus or Gauss’s plans. Without that knowledge, he would’ve succumbed to the virus, been unable to hibernate, and ultimately perished in the 21st century. Humanity’s future would’ve been lost.

Sometimes, luck is a form of strength. If Lin Xian ever succeeded in saving the future of humanity, Mai Mai’s role would undoubtedly be a crucial chapter in the story.

Such a significant contribution deserved recognition—perhaps even an acceptance letter from Rhine University?

“If the opportunity arises, I’ll pull some strings and get you into Rhine University,” Lin Xian said, teasingly painting a picture of her future. “Consider it a chance to refine your skills. You can learn how to write properly in college.”

“Ha! Who do you think you are?” Mai Mai huffed, hands on her hips. “Do you think Rhine University is your family business, that you can just ‘pull some strings’?”

“Counting on your promises is less reliable than betting on my Devouring Heaven Demon Emperor going viral and getting me in through special admissions!”

She tilted her head. “So, based on what you’ve read, how long do you think it’ll take for my work to get recognized?”

Lin Xian glanced at his watch. “Ten.”

“Ten years!?” Mai Mai exclaimed. “That’s way too long!”

“Ten… nine… eight…” Lin Xian counted down, staring at the watch’s second hand.

Mai Mai blinked, puzzled. Three question marks practically hovered above her head.

Suddenly— BOOM!!!

A searing white light burst forth, consuming everything in its path.

…

…

…

Lin Xian woke with a start in the Brooklyn hotel room. Sunlight streamed through the curtain’s small gap, casting a bright sliver across the room.

Sitting up in bed, he drew the curtains open to take in the sight of the winter sunlight over the city. “Today,” he decided, “I’ll start investigating the spacetime particles.”

After washing up and getting dressed, Lin Xian left his room and descended to the hotel lobby. A concierge eagerly opened the door for him.

“Mr. Douglas, the taxi you requested is waiting for you just outside,” they said.

Lin Xian nodded and stepped out. But suddenly—

“Sir! Mr. Douglas!”

From the steps outside, a small, dirt-covered boy appeared.

Lin Xian froze. It was none other than Little Johnny, the boy he had saved the day before.

How had he managed to follow him here?

The small boy stumbled and scrambled his way toward Lin Xian, falling to his knees in front of him. He had overheard the hotel staff calling him Mr. Douglas and now addressed him with that name.

“Mr. Douglas!” Little Johnny looked up at Lin Xian with wide, hopeful eyes. “Please let me be your servant. Let me stay by your side!”

Lin Xian looked at the kneeling child, caught between amusement and exasperation. “Little Johnny, didn’t I give you plenty of money yesterday? That money is more than enough for you to start a new life in another city or even begin a small business. Don’t cling to me like this.”

However, Little Johnny pulled a neatly stacked bundle of cash from his pocket and held it out with both hands. “Sir, I don’t want money. I haven’t spent a single penny of what you gave me. It’s all here.”

His voice grew firmer as he raised his head, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want to live my life aimlessly. I want to be strong, to be great, to live a life with meaning!”

“Mr. Douglas,” he continued, “I want to become someone like you!”

Lin Xian shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take you in.”

With a heavy tone, he added, “You should leave this city as soon as possible. Otherwise, those men will come after you again. The money I gave you is more than enough—use it wisely.”

Without another word, Lin Xian stepped past the boy, climbed into the taxi, and disappeared down the street.

…

During the ride, Lin Xian had the taxi stop at a department store. There, he purchased a map of Brooklyn, a pair of binoculars, and a fountain pen. Once he had everything he needed, he resumed the ride to the top of the Williamsburg Savings Bank building.

Standing at the spot where CC had dissolved into blue stardust, he turned westward.

Yesterday, the brilliant blue spacetime particle had come from that direction.

“Where do spacetime particles come from?” he muttered as he raised the binoculars to his eyes. From the bustling city streets, his gaze shifted to the sparsely populated suburbs.

Setting down the binoculars, he unfolded the Brooklyn map and marked his current location. Using the pen, he traced a line westward. His pen stopped abruptly.

“Brooklyn’s western suburbs… the orphanage where CC lived… and Einstein’s farm.”

Unscrewing the cap of the pen, Lin Xian circled the spot marking Einstein’s farm. “Could that spacetime particle have come from Einstein’s farm?”

Though the idea seemed far-fetched, the particle’s direction and trajectory made it highly plausible.

“Surely not…” Lin Xian squinted. “Could the president of the Genius Club, the creator of the millennial stakes, and the origin of everything truly be the Einstein of history?”

He sighed deeply. What you fear often finds you.

For now, however, speculation was futile. On November 5, he would meet Einstein at the farm, and the truth would be revealed.

…

As evening approached, Lin Xian returned to the hotel. To his surprise, Little Johnny was still there, huddled in the corner of the entrance, his eyes filled with expectation. Lin Xian ignored him and walked inside.

The next day, November 4, Little Johnny was still there.

On November 5, the boy remained.

By now, Lin Xian couldn’t help but feel the boy’s persistence was reminiscent of “three visits to the thatched cottage” or a student humbly waiting in the snow for a mentor. Packing his things at midday, he prepared to leave for Einstein’s farm. Yet, as he stepped out of the hotel, he once again saw Little Johnny in the same spot.

Lin Xian approached him. “Even if you stay here your whole life, it won’t change anything.”

Little Johnny stood, meeting Lin Xian’s gaze. “Mr. Douglas, my parents died when I was young. No one ever taught me how to live a meaningful life. You’re the only person in Brooklyn who saved me, who spoke to me. I’m not trying to bother you, but could you guide me? Show me how to live a proud and meaningful life, just like you?”

Lin Xian exhaled, his gaze softening as he looked down at the frail, hungry boy.

“Do you remember Dragon Country?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” Little Johnny nodded quickly. “My parents took me away from Dragon Country when it was engulfed in war. Life was so hard there. Everyone was starving…”

“That’s right. But that’s your homeland,” Lin Xian said softly. “If you want to live a meaningful life, a proud life, then what you need to do now is study. Learn everything you can while you’re here.”

After a pause, he added, “You have two choices: wander the streets and beg for the rest of your life, or use the money I gave you to start fresh—study a craft, learn a trade, master whatever you can from this country. Then, return to Dragon Country and help rebuild your homeland.”

“If you can do that, Little Johnny, I’ll be very proud of you. Many from Dragon Country are giving their lives on the battlefield, and many others are sacrificing the comfort of life abroad to return and help their nation thrive.”

“You’ve shown persistence by staying here for days. If you put that same determination into learning, you’ll achieve something great. Would you be willing to become a ship, carrying advanced knowledge back to your homeland?”

“I will!” Little Johnny’s eyes burned with resolve, his fists clenched tightly. “Mr. Douglas, I won’t disappoint you! I’ll work hard to become someone like you!”

Lin Xian smiled, ruffling the boy’s unkempt hair. Turning, he headed for the waiting taxi.

“Mr. Douglas!” Little Johnny called after him. “Will we meet again?”

Lin Xian waved without turning back. “If you become great enough, I’ll surely see your name in the newspapers.”

“Then remember my real name!” Little Johnny ran after him.

Lin Xian stopped and turned. “Your real name?”

Little Johnny shook his head. “Johnny is just a nickname those men gave me—it’s an insult, really. I was born and raised in Dragon Country. Of course, I have a Dragon Country name.”

Suddenly, Lin Xian felt the kite string at the back of his head tremble, as if caught in a sudden gust of wind.

Little Johnny grinned, his white teeth shining. “My surname is Ji—like the seasons. My name is…”

“Ji Xin Shui!”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation