Genius Club

Lin Xian sat up in bed and pulled open the curtains to let the warm sunlight in. Despite the brightness, he felt a chill. He vividly recalled a book from 600 years in the future that foretold Zhao Ying Jun’s fate: she was destined to die at 23 in a midnight shooting. Tonight, at midnight, she would turn 24.

“So, according to history, Zhao Ying Jun won’t live past tonight,” Lin Xian murmured to himself.

It was January 14, 2023, at 10:00 AM. Only 12 hours remained until Zhao Ying Jun’s foretold demise. How could he save her?

Two days ago, on January 12, Zhao Ying Jun had planned to meet a composer but canceled to record the theme song for Rhine Cat. Yesterday, she intended to meet an animation director but instead had dinner with Lin Xian. Today, she was supposed to meet a female singer about the song. He couldn’t keep making her cancel her plans. That would raise suspicions.

Lin Xian wondered if Zhao Ying Jun might be a member of the Genius Club. His life was at stake, too. But was there a way to save them both?

At MX Company’s 22nd-floor office, time seemed frozen.

Two days prior, Lin Xian had played the guitar on the sofa, wiping it down with a paper towel—the cleanest spot in the room.

“Is the demo ready? Did you finish it?” Zhao Ying Jun looked up from her documents.

“Almost,” Lin Xian replied. “I spoke to the recording studio. They said it should be ready this afternoon.”

Lin Xian was taken aback. “Can I?”

“Of course,” Zhao Ying Jun smiled. “It’s not a private meeting. There’s a party in the entertainment circle tonight, and I arranged to meet the singer there. If the demo is ready, it would be perfect to let her listen to it directly.”

“If you’re free, come along. It’s your cat, after all. You have a say in who sings the theme song. Besides, your presence might help me avoid any trouble.”

Lin Xian remembered the last banquet. Zhao Ying Jun wanted him as her shield. At these events, it was common for men with various motives to ask her for a dance. Direct refusals might be rude, but dancing with them was not her preference. The best solution was to bring Lin Xian along. His presence would imply she wasn’t available, warding off potential suitors.

“Sure,” Lin Xian agreed. “I’m free tonight. I’ll come and listen to the singer.”

Unexpectedly, the situation was clearer now. The shooting was supposed to happen at midnight, during Zhao Ying Jun’s original plans. Changing the time and her route might prevent the incident. Lin Xian planned to keep the meeting short, compliment the singer regardless of her performance, and leave early—around 9 PM. This way, Zhao Ying Jun would be home by 10 PM, away from any danger. For extra safety, he’d change her route home, having her driver drop him off first on a pretext.

“Do you drive?” Zhao Ying Jun asked.

“A bit,” Lin Xian responded.

“Do you have a license?” She looked skeptical.

“Of course,” Lin Xian said, though he only had limited real-life driving experience. In his dreams, he’d mastered driving for over a decade, including stunts and high-speed chases.

“Great,” she said, rummaging through her drawer. “Today’s event needs a bit of flair… This should do.” She tossed him a key.

Lin Xian caught it. “Pick me up at 7:30 PM sharp. Don’t be late.”

With instructions clear, Lin Xian went to the underground garage, found the designated spot with the remote, and revealed a blue convertible Bentley Continental GT. This rare car boasted a 6.0L twin-turbo engine with over 650 horsepower. Lin Xian, though not a car owner, was well-versed about this model. Zhao Ying Jun’s choice reflected her immense wealth. Why did she work relentlessly despite her fortunes?

Lin Xian started the Bentley, the engine’s roar stirring memories of his dreamt driving adventures, which far surpassed this real-world experience. “It’s time,” he muttered, shifting the car to manual and speeding out of the garage. He carefully turned on all the vehicle’s systems, determined to return the Bentley unscathed. He thought about his promise to buy a car from Gao Yang’s dealership, planning to keep it soon. Despite his dreams’ thrills, real-world luxuries seemed less exhilarating.

Driving to the recording studio, Lin Xian felt in control of the evening, poised to ensure Zhao Ying Jun escaped her predicted fate. Later, after picking up the demo, Lin Xian returned home to get ready for the party. At 7:30 PM, he picked up Zhao Ying Jun, who was dressed to match the blue Bentley.

“Why a convertible? It’s not that warm,” Lin Xian commented, admiring her sapphire earrings and blue dress.

“This party is special. The car fits the theme,” she replied, setting her purse on her lap.

“It’s a casual business party. We’re just meeting the singer. If you approve of her voice, we can finalize everything tonight,” she added as they drove off.

Lin Xian nodded, driving them to the venue. The location was remote, but light traffic allowed a smooth journey. As evening fell, Lin Xian parked the impressive Bentley at the entrance, opening the door for Zhao Ying Jun.

“Ms. Zhao, we’ve arrived,” he announced.

She elegantly exited, lifting her dress slightly, and entered the golden hall. Lin Xian checked his watch: 8:00 PM. Four hours remained until midnight, her 24th birthday, and her supposed escape from fate.

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