Genius Club

9:00 PM

After a long day of overtime, Gao Yang arrived at Lin Xian’s apartment and collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, Lin Xian, let’s hear it. What’s the scoop?”

Lin Xian, seated across from him, began from the top. He explained how he had persuaded Big Cat Face to join his cause during a dream sequence, uncovered the heart-wrenching truth about his daughter’s death, and discovered the existence of the sinister Genius Club responsible for her murder. He detailed Big Cat Face’s bank heist strategy to secure an invitation to this elusive club, climaxing with Lin Xian spotting an invitation himself at his workplace.

“Mhm, mhm,” Gao Yang nodded, sipping his water, his face a mask of pensiveness and tension.

“I get it,” he said.

“You get it?” Lin Xian repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Bang.

Gao Yang slammed his glass down, fixing Lin Xian with a serious gaze.

“The subconscious, really?” Lin Xian scoffed. “When in doubt, blame quantum mechanics? Can’t explain something, blame parallel universes? I’ve been talking for an hour, and you boil it down to ‘the subconscious’?”

“It’s not the same!” Gao Yang cut in, eager to explain. “Remember that time at the bar? I was in a rush because of the World Cup and didn’t clarify. The subconscious is more complex than you think!”

“Simplify it for me.”

“Think about it—sometimes you see or hear something, then it slips your mind. But is it really forgotten? No, it lingers in your subconscious. That’s why you have feelings of déjà vu.”

Lin Xian stood, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand.

“That’s too far-fetched. Save it for a novel. I’m done with this conversation.”

“It’s not pseudo-science!” Gao Yang insisted, pulling Lin Xian back to the sofa. “Let me give you an example.”

“Go on.”

“Ever had a song feel familiar, but you can’t remember where you heard it?”

“Yeah, that’s happened.”

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“Or seen a stranger who seems familiar, or a place that feels oddly recognizable?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“During your daily commute, you see countless faces. Over the years, you’ve had numerous classmates. Can you remember every face or the passengers from this morning’s subway ride?”

“Of course not, who could?”

Smack!

Gao Yang slapped his thigh, pointing at Lin Xian emphatically.

“That’s it! Human memory is unreliable, especially with distant memories. But the subconscious holds onto much more, like faces, music, places. That’s why things sometimes feel familiar.”

“So, what’s your point—”

“You must have encountered the Genius Club before, maybe just a whisper in an elevator or a glimpse in a subway ad. That’s why you dreamed about it.”

Lin Xian eyed Gao Yang skeptically.

“Where did you learn all this? The subconscious and déjà vu… sounds dubious.”

“Haha, remember those posts by the psychologist I showed you on social media?”

Lin Xian shook his head, unconvinced.

“But that doesn’t address my main issue. I’m not puzzled by dreaming of the Genius Club; it’s about why elements from my dream appear in reality.”

“Just last night, I dreamed about the Genius Club and Big Cat Face discussing the invitation, and this morning, I saw it in real life! How do you explain that?”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Gao Yang replied, lighting a cigarette. “Many people report precognitive dreams, but often it’s just coincidence.”

“How can you dismiss it as coincidence? My dream outlined the entire backstory of the Genius Club!”

“And I’ve dreamed of calculus formulas that matched real textbooks, despite never studying calculus in college. You’re not suggesting I can dream up theories beyond Gauss?”

“So what?” Gao Yang shrugged. “You don’t seriously believe your dreams predict the future, or that they’re glimpses into a real future, 600 years from now?”

“I have considered it,” Lin Xian admitted.

They exchanged a long look, contemplating the implications.

“Alright.” Gao Yang exhaled a plume of smoke and reached into his pocket.

“You think your dreams predict the future?”

“It’s possible.”

Smack!

Gao Yang placed a lottery ticket on the coffee table.

“What’s this?”

“A football lottery ticket,” Gao Yang explained casually, exhaling smoke. “Tonight, Qatar World Cup semifinals: Argentina vs. Croatia at 3 AM.”

“Go to sleep now, dream the result, and wake me at 00:42 with the winner!”

Gao Yang flicked ash, a grin playing on his lips.

“You believe your dreams reveal the future, right? Prove it!”

Lin Xian picked up the ticket. Listed were the details: 3 AM, Argentina vs. Croatia, with a 100 yuan bet on Argentina at 2.3 odds—a win would net 230 yuan.

To truly test if his dreams could foresee the future, this lottery would be conclusive evidence—far more compelling than any other experiment.

“Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

Lin Xian headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Keep it down out here. Don’t interrupt my sleep.”

“Make sure you get it right!” Gao Yang called after him. “And try to dream the exact score too—we could win big!”

“…If I can find it in the dream. Don’t hold your breath.”

“You can look it up online in your dream! It takes a second.”

“I’ve tried that. You think I’ve been idle for twenty years?”

Lin Xian rinsed and spat out the toothpaste foam.

“I experimented with the lottery in middle school, trying to dream up winning numbers.”

“And?”

“Nothing! I found nothing useful—no lottery, current news, or stock info… The internet in dreams is useless.”

“I see…”

Gao Yang grabbed a snack and turned on the TV, lowering the volume.

“Logically, online information should be archived forever. There should be traces. But since your dream is fictional, it figures.”

Lin Xian dried his face.

“My dream isn’t that simple. There’s too much I don’t understand.”

“Facts will prove everything! Go dream!”

Completing his routine, Lin Xian retired to his bedroom.

He turned off the light, cocooning himself in his blanket.

“Let’s see.”

A familiar summer breeze whispered through the room as Lin Xian closed his eyes.

He awoke in the familiar plaza, surrounded by the usual bustle and the chirping of cicadas.

Lin Xian glanced around. The electronic billboard displayed the date:

August 28, 2624

21:54

Lin Xian scratched his head, wondering.

“Where can I find the results of the 2022 Qatar World Cup?”