Genius Club

Lin Xian lifted his gaze to the sky, where the moon hovered, partially hidden by drifting clouds.

“Zhao Ying Jun,” he pondered, “this woman is shrouded in too many mysteries.”

Though unassuming in appearance, she had received an invitation to the Genius Club. Her company, MX Company, began as a modest cosmetics brand but had morphed into a massive conglomerate, pioneering the construction of steel cities in a future era. Moreover, there was the mysterious Zhao Group in the capital…

“What web has she become entangled in?” Lin Xian whispered to himself as he propped his chin with his hands while sitting back in his chair, “Zhao Ying Jun is a woman of many secrets, and these secrets are vital to me.”

To alter her destiny and change her predetermined end, he first needed to uncover the circumstances of her demise. The details of her death—the event, the time, the place—were all crucial. Only with a clear understanding of these elements could he hope to save her with certainty.

In that moment, Lin Xian felt akin to a judge of life and death, yet his role was not to condemn but to rescue, to rewrite Zhao Ying Jun’s fate as prescribed by the cosmic ledger of life and death.

He stared at the sparse lines he had jotted down on a sheet of blank paper. The information he had was scant. In the self-aggrandizing autobiography titled “Me and MX,” the CEO spent 99.99% of the text glorifying his own achievements, leaving a mere 0.01% about MX Company. Within that sliver, only one sentence pertained to its founder, Zhao Ying Jun: “Just as the company reached its peak, Miss Zhao Ying Jun met a tragic end in a shooting incident at the stroke of midnight, at the tender age of 23.”

The specifics of her death—when, where, why—remained undisclosed…

Had MX Company not thrived for 600 years, Zhao Ying Jun’s brief mention and her obscure demise would likely have been lost to the annals of history.

Solving a mystery with such scant information from 600 years in the future was no small feat. Yet, he clung to one vital clue.

Lin Xian circled the phrase “at the age of 23” on his paper. It was a significant clue. Zhao Ying Jun was currently 23, the same age when Lin Xian had joined the company the previous July. She wasn’t immortal; she couldn’t remain 23 indefinitely.

“If the record states she was 23 at her time of death, then her demise must occur before her 24th birthday.”

This logic seemed sound unless the historical record was flawed, in which case, even divine intervention couldn’t aid Zhao Ying Jun.

Lin Xian checked his phone for any information on MX Company and interviews with Zhao Ying Jun. The company had gained substantial domestic fame, and as a young CEO, Zhao Ying Jun attracted considerable media attention.

He quickly discovered her birth date—January 15, 1999.

“January 15? That’s alarmingly soon!” He glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand.

It displayed: January 12, 2022

00:37

“…What a coincidence?” Lin Xian mused, organizing his thoughts. The historical record explicitly stated that Zhao Ying Jun died at 23, a detail unlikely to be erroneous, especially considering it came from the boastful autobiography of MX Company’s CEO. An error in documenting the founder’s fate would be absurd.

Viewing it from another angle, given that Zhao Ying Jun’s death involved a shooting, it would be a major event in Donghai City, likely documented extensively by the police and reported widely due to her high-profile status.

Thus, the “at the age of 23” detail was probably accurate.

This meant that Zhao Ying Jun’s demise and the shooting incident had to occur no later than January 14.

“After January 15, she would technically be 24, invalidating the ‘dying at 23’ detail.”

“The latest possible date for Zhao Ying Jun’s death and the shooting incident is therefore January 14.”

Based on historical patterns, Zhao Ying Jun’s death and the shooting would likely happen on January 12, 13, or 14.

To be conservative, January 15 might be considered, but Lin Xian preferred not to extend his speculation too far. Unlike the recurring scenarios in his dream world, real life offered no opportunities for do-overs. Zhao Ying Jun had just one life, and he had one chance to save her. Any miscalculation could cost her life and his chance to access the Genius Club invitation.

“I should treat each day as potentially her last, leaving no room for chance.”

The potential dates for her death were thus narrowed down to these three days. The exact timing remained unknown, but the phrase “at the stroke of midnight” provided a rough estimate.

Midnight was typically understood as around 12 a.m., not stretching beyond.

Given this, Lin Xian estimated the possible time of her death from 10 p.m. to 12 a.m. This timeframe seemed reasonable.

Thus, it was concluded that Zhao Ying Jun might meet her untimely end on the nights of January 12, 13, or 14 according to the original timeline.

The next task was to identify the circumstances leading to her death and ascertain why it occurred.

Lin Xian considered whether her death, described as accidental, might actually have been intentional, similar to the circumstances surrounding Big Cat Face’s father and Professor Xu Yun.

However, he dismissed this line of thought. If the same individual responsible for Professor Xu Yun’s death was involved, the timing would likely be “early morning” rather than “midnight,” and the cause would be a “car accident” rather than a “shooting.”

“I shouldn’t wander down fruitless paths,” Lin Xian shook his head, deciding not to delve deeper.

His primary objective was her rescue, not solving a mystery. Ensuring her survival was paramount. Thus, whether it was an accident or not, he initially treated it as such. The shooting incident was a fact; its nature was secondary.

Now, having deduced the approximate time and cause of death, the final step was determining the place of death—the location of the shooting.

Unfortunately, with the limited information available, pinpointing the exact location of the shooting and Zhao Ying Jun’s death was impossible.

“But that’s okay,” Lin Xian set down his pen and stretched. With his previous deductions, even if the exact location remained unknown, it wasn’t critical. He already had a general strategy to prevent Zhao Ying Jun’s death: disrupt the original historical trajectory by altering her schedule, thereby averting the shooting incident and consequently, her demise.

“Although I don’t know where Zhao Ying Jun was originally planning to be on the nights of January 12 to 14, changing her plans to different locations should alter the historical trajectory.”

Lin Xian nodded in satisfaction. This approach was straightforward and potentially effective.

Assuming Zhao Ying Jun initially planned to be at locations A, B, and C on those nights, shifting her schedule to locations D, E, and F might prevent the shooting incident. After all, the shooting wasn’t targeted at her; she was merely an unintended victim.

However, he needed to exercise caution, ensuring not to reveal his knowledge of future events or the secrets of his dreams to Zhao Ying Jun. His actions couldn’t appear calculated.

How to proceed?

Lin Xian stood and paced his bedroom.

“I’ve figured it out.”

…

The next morning, Lin Xian arrived early at the company. He organized his work materials, ready to present them to Zhao Ying Jun. Unfortunately, she was out for the morning and would not return until the afternoon.

He waited patiently until then.

On the 22nd floor, in Zhao Ying Jun’s office.

“Very good,” Zhao Ying Jun remarked after reviewing Lin Xian’s report, nodding with approval. “You continue to handle everything impeccably.”

“Thank you,” Lin Xian responded evenly, his gaze fixed on Zhao Ying Jun, who seemed oblivious to her looming fate.

“Do you have time tonight?”

“Why?” Zhao Ying Jun inquired, tidying the files on her desk without looking up. “Is there something you need?”

“Yes,” Lin Xian nodded, his expression earnest. “I’ve reserved a table at a fine restaurant. I’d like to invite you to dinner tonight.”

Zhao Ying Jun paused, a pencil slipping from her grasp and rolling off the desk. The spacious office fell silent, the only sound the rustling of dry leaves from a potted plant.

A breeze seemed to stir from nowhere.

“You want to take me to dinner?” Zhao Ying Jun chuckled, setting aside her files. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at Lin Xian. “Is there a special reason?”

Lin Xian nodded, “I want to thank you for your support and the opportunities you’ve provided. You’ve played a significant role in my career, and I wish to express my gratitude. You’ve given me numerous chances to demonstrate my abilities, shaping my present circumstances.”

“I see,” Zhao Ying Jun resumed organizing her desk. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Your achievements stem from your own efforts and talent, not my influence. If anyone should be grateful, it’s me, for your contributions during MX Company’s challenging times.”

“But there’s another reason,” Lin Xian quickly added, anticipating her reluctance. He needed a more compelling justification.

“Oh?” Zhao Ying Jun looked up, curiosity piqued. “Go on.”

Lin Xian hesitated, then disclosed, “I’m considering leaving MX Company.”

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