Genius Club Chapter 563
Chapter 563: Friends
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcattranslation)
“Heh.”
Ji Lin leaned against the villa’s floor-to-ceiling window, watching as the moonlight poured into the living room, draping over Ji Xin Shui like a pure white funeral shroud.
He chuckled lightly and shook his head.
“Arrogance… You kept me in the dark when killing Xu Yun. Now that Zhou Duan Yun messed up, you want me to clean up the mess for you?”
At the center of the living room, the elderly man in a black wool felt hat let out a cold snort.
“Could you have done it? Killed Xu Yun yourself?”
The old man took off his hat, placed it on the dining table, and pulled out a chair to sit down.
“I kept you out of this for your own good.”
“Does Xu Yun absolutely have to die?” Ji Lin stared at the old man.
“Xu Yun must die,” the old man replied without hesitation.
…
…
The room sank into a silence so heavy it felt frozen.
This was exactly what Ji Xin Shui had always feared.
In the past, every plan for murder had been meticulously crafted by Ji Lin, ensuring nothing went awry. But this time…
The target was Xu Yun.
Xu Yun wasn’t just any target. He was once Ji Lin’s most cherished student, Ji Xin Shui’s undisclosed son-in-law, and, in Ji Lin’s childhood, a favorite elder—someone who had been both his mentor in science and his guide in writing.
Choosing such a target for assassination, if left to Ji Lin, would likely spell disaster.
Thus, Ji Xin Shui had kept the plan hidden from Ji Lin, entrusting the task to Zhou Duan Yun, who was ruled by Jealousy, to not only assassinate Xu Yun but also proceed with an attempt on Tang Xin.
Tang Xin… a genius scientist by sheer coincidence, had unexpectedly developed a drug to counteract the side effects of hibernation.
Even more coincidentally, she had been Zhou Duan Yun’s high school classmate.
“Ji Lin, now’s not the time to dwell on such matters,” Ji Xin Shui said, his tone earnest as he looked at Ji Lin.
“What’s done is done. We need to focus on the road ahead and move forward, not waste time revisiting past mistakes that lead nowhere.”
“Zhou Duan Yun’s methods were indeed crude, and we failed to find any evidence of Lin Xian’s Disturbing History ability…”
“Worse still, Zhou Duan Yun tried several times to break the rules and directly kill Lin Xian… That’s the most dangerous thing for us. We absolutely cannot kill indiscriminately! We must have irrefutable evidence of history tampering!”
“Without it, the doors of the Genius Club… will forever remain shut to us.”
Ji Lin remained silent.
He took a deep breath, stood up, and leaned against the tall floor-to-ceiling window. His back bent slightly, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed.
His curly bangs fell over his eyes, obscuring his expression.
But even so, his sadness was palpable.
He grieved for Xu Yun, for his sister who had died in childbirth, for his parents—mathematicians murdered in cold blood—and for the bloody path he had no choice but to walk.
Yet, as Arrogance had said,
If he wanted to uncover the truth behind his parents’ murders and exact his revenge, obtaining that Genius Club invitation was indispensable.
“You’ve reached the point of no return, Ji Lin.”
The old man, who had raised Ji Lin since he was a child, saw through his thoughts and chuckled softly.
“Skipping the deaths of Xu Yun or Tang Xin would only mean two fewer drops of blood on your clothes… but let’s not forget, our garments were soaked red long ago.”
With that, he picked up his wool felt hat, placed it on his head, and stood, heading for the living room door.
“Because of Jealousy’s stupidity, I couldn’t make it to Brooklyn for a grave visit before the New Year.”
“All these years, this is the first time I’ve been late. I hope my friend won’t hold it against me.”
Ji Lin blinked and finally voiced the question that had puzzled him for so many years.
“A grave visit at this time of year… this neither Eastern nor Western style of mourning… Who exactly are you visiting?”
“A very distant old friend,” Ji Xin Shui exhaled heavily, his tone weighted with emotion.
“He was the person I respected most in my life, my mentor in shaping my path, and the one who guided me to a precious life direction…”
He paused for a moment, then spoke with emphasis:
“A friend.”
Pfft—
Ji Lin couldn’t help but laugh.
“A friend?”
Scratching his head full of curls, he chuckled softly.
“Someone like you… has friends?”
Thud!
Ji Xin Shui slammed his cane hard on the wooden floor.
For a brief moment, he was visibly furious.
After a few deep breaths, he calmed down, snorted coldly, and turned to Ji Lin.
“Ji Lin, I return those words to you exactly as they are.”
“But this is the last time I’ll allow you to mock me… especially about my Brooklyn grave visits. I won’t tolerate you disrespecting us again.”
“If not for that man’s guidance and teachings, I would’ve likely been beaten to death on the streets of Brooklyn long ago. Let alone returning to the X Country to save you children, each on the brink of death, and give you a chance at happiness.”
However…
Ji Lin spread his hands indifferently.
“So everything you’re doing now is because of that friend?”
“He taught you to achieve your goals through any means necessary? To even kill your own son-in-law for a Genius Club invitation?”
“Enough.”
Ji Xin Shui opened the door, unwilling to continue the discussion with Ji Lin.
“Every initial intention is always beautiful. But reality rarely aligns with such ideals—just like my unrewarding life… and your parents, who died an untimely death.”
“Goodbye, Ji Lin.”
The door creaked as it slowly closed.
“I hope that when I return to Donghai next time, I’ll hear of your victory in this cat-and-mouse game.”
Boom.
The door shut tightly, cutting off the moonlight.
…
Creak.
The heavy metal door swung open, and Lin Xian entered the interrogation room with a document folder in hand.
Ji Lin, handcuffed to the interrogation chair, chuckled softly as he looked at him.
“Give it up, Lin Xian. You’re wasting your time.”
Lin Xian pulled out a chair and sat across from Ji Lin, fixing his gaze on him.
“Ji Xin Shui confessed to everything.”
“Hmph.”
Ji Lin let out a cold snort.
“Impossible.”
Lin Xian presented pre-prepared video footage and written records to Ji Lin.
In the video, Ji Xin Shui was grinning nonchalantly as he recounted the time he had hit and killed Dr. Ponsmey in Wolfsburg, Germany, as if it were no big deal.
Ji Lin’s expression faltered.
He knew Ji Xin Shui too well—this was not something he would normally do.
It was tantamount to sentencing himself to death.
Why would he do such a thing?
Ji Lin couldn’t figure it out.
Snap.
Lin Xian snapped his fingers.
Thunk. A familiar dull sound echoed.
The one-way mirror darkened into a black screen, and all electronic monitoring devices in the room powered down. From that moment, the conversation became a secret, inaccessible to any third party.
Ji Lin glanced around at the cameras drooping silently before turning his attention back to Lin Xian, unsure of what tricks he was about to pull.
And then…
Lin Xian took out a brown file folder, carefully unwrapping the white cotton thread binding it.
From inside…
He pulled out a folded piece of white drawing paper.
He placed the paper on the table and slid it in front of Ji Lin.
“This is the real birthday gift Chu An Qing and I wanted to give you.”
Rustle…
Lin Xian unfolded the drawing.
Ji Lin inhaled sharply, his eyes fixed on the pencil sketch before him—an exquisitely detailed and heartwarming depiction of three young friends.
The clean paper and smooth pencil strokes captured a moment of warmth and harmony: Lin Xian and Ji Lin stood in the background, smiling as Chu An Qing suddenly jumped forward in front of them. Prepared for the surprise, Chu An Qing’s eyes crinkled into two crescent-shaped smiles as she held up a playful “V” sign with her fingers, squeezing into the frame.
The drawing immortalized the moment when the camera shutter had clicked, preserving a snapshot of the trio’s joyful friendship.
“Then let’s exchange gifts! From now on, let’s promise to give each other gifts on every birthday! That way, each of us is guaranteed at least two presents every year!”
“Since we’re good friends, of course, we’ll celebrate every birthday together until the very last one!”
“Ji Lin, just wait! When the time comes, Lin Xian and I will prepare a huge gift for you! We’ll make up for all the birthday presents you missed in previous years!”
“Ji Lin… Wishes can’t be said out loud. If you say them, they won’t come true!”
“There’s a word that describes two people with a deep, like-minded bond. It’s also the title of a classic song by the famous singer Zhou Huajian and the codename of the antagonist in the renowned manga-adapted film 20th Century Boys! So, what’s the word?”
…
Staring at the pencil sketch, the words Chu An Qing had once said came rushing back like a tidal wave, surging from the depths of Ji Lin’s memory. They echoed in his ears, filled with laughter and warmth.
“Originally, Chu An Qing planned to add watercolor to the sketch and give it to you,” Lin Xian said softly.
“But time ran out, so she gave you something else instead.”
He leaned back against the chair, adjusting his posture, and looked at Ji Lin.
“I don’t mean anything by this. I’m not here to play any emotional cards. I just think that after today, we probably won’t cross paths again. Since this sketch is already finished… it’s better for you to have it.”
Raising his wrist, Lin Xian checked the time.
“In a few minutes, your detention will reach the 24-hour mark. All the surveillance here has been shut off, and I’m not a professional interrogator. Whatever I get from you won’t hold up legally.”
“I’m here today for one reason—to ask you one question.”
He raised his head, meeting Ji Lin’s eyes.
“Did you have any involvement in the murders of Xu Yun and Tang Xin?”
…
A brief silence followed.
Ji Lin shook his head.
“No.”
Lin Xian didn’t appear fully convinced. He simply stared at Ji Lin.
The silence stretched.
Ji Lin kept his eyes fixed on the sketch lying on the table, while Lin Xian’s gaze remained locked on Ji Lin.
Beep. Beep.
The quiet chime of Lin Xian’s digital watch broke the stillness—a reminder he’d set for this precise moment.
Flipping his wrist, the display read: 00:42.
Clink.
Lin Xian pulled a keyring from his pocket and tossed it onto the sketch in front of Ji Lin.
“You’re free.”
It was the key to the handcuffs and shackles.
Lin Xian stood and headed for the door.
“Lin Xian.”
After taking only two steps and placing his hand on the doorknob, Ji Lin called out from behind him.
Lin Xian didn’t turn around.
From behind, Ji Lin’s voice followed.
“Are we friends?”
Lin Xian’s hand paused on the doorknob, unmoving.
“What does it mean to be friends?”
Ji Lin chuckled lightly.
“I don’t really know how to define it. It feels like something simple, yet complicated. But I think… if we can celebrate each other’s birthdays and exchange gifts, that already counts as friendship.”
“I see it differently,” Lin Xian replied, releasing his grip on the doorknob and turning to face Ji Lin.
“I think true friendship is about not lying to each other.”
He locked eyes with Ji Lin once again.
“Tell me, Ji Lin—did you have anything to do with the murders of Xu Yun and Tang Xin?”
This was the second time Lin Xian asked the question.
At this moment, even Lin Xian wasn’t sure what answer he was hoping to hear.
A steadfast denial?
Or a shocking admission?
He didn’t dare delve too deeply into his thoughts.
Because deep down, in a corner of his heart, there was an expectation—a nervous anticipation—for a certain answer.
Out of Ji Lin’s view, Lin Xian’s fists clenched tightly. He held his breath, awaiting Ji Lin’s second response.
The time it took wasn’t long.
Ji Lin’s gaze grew more resolute than before as he met Lin Xian’s eyes.
“No.”
His voice was clear, almost like a confession, or a whispered exchange between friends.
“I had no knowledge of Xu Yun and Tang Xin’s murders.”
Lin Xian blinked.
He turned away.
And walked out the door.
Lin Xian exhaled deeply, striding down the brightly lit corridor until he arrived at the glaringly illuminated main surveillance room.
“Initiate the plan,” he said.
…
Outside the psychological clinic at the lakeside villa, under the moonlight, Ji Lin flipped through Lin Xian’s medical consultation records, a faint smirk forming on his lips.
“So this is why you always seem to predict everything… You really are different from the rest of us.”
He shook his head lightly, muttering to himself.
“Such recklessness, Lin Xian. Leaving evidence like this—how careless.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a lighter, preparing to burn the records.
Click.
A cold gun barrel pressed against the back of his head.
“Absolutely disgusting,” a voice snarled.
Zhou Duan Yun stepped out of the shadows under the eaves, gripping a pistol tightly in his right hand. His eyes burned into Ji Lin, fixating on the brown notebook in his hands.
“I knew it… You’ve been hiding something from Arrogance, you traitor!”
However, Ji Lin showed no sign of fear. In fact, his expression bore a trace of grim resignation, even a wry smile.
“Who isn’t, Zhou Duan Yun?”
He turned to face the man, looking at the trap he had knowingly walked into—a gift for Lin Xian.
Whether Lin Xian would forgive him or not was uncertain.
But…
This was the last thing Ji Lin could do for him.
“You arrived just in time,” Ji Lin said, closing his eyes and speaking softly.
Bang!
The gunshot rang out.
Ji Lin thought he felt his skull shatter, blood and brain matter splattering across his face.
But then…
He opened his eyes and realized it wasn’t his blood or brain matter.
Thud.
Zhou Duan Yun’s corpse collapsed heavily to the ground in front of him, grotesque and unyielding. His head had been obliterated by a high-caliber sniper rifle. Yet, even as his body hit the ground, his right hand remained clenched around the pistol, his finger unable to pull the trigger in time.
Whirring.
A helicopter’s blades roared in the distance, cutting through the night air. Vehicles and armed personnel converged from every direction.
Leading the charge was none other than Lin Xian.
Ji Lin lowered his head, unsure how to face the man before him.
Of course, he knew the authorities would use the GPS in his electronic ankle monitor to locate him. After all, the entire plan—using him to draw out the lurking Zhou Duan Yun—was orchestrated by Lin Xian.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lin Xian’s leather shoes echoed as he approached Ji Lin, retrieving the medical records from Ji Lin’s hands and noting the lighter still clutched in his right hand.
“Why?” Ji Lin asked softly.
“We investigated,” Lin Xian said, nudging Zhou Duan Yun’s corpse with his foot.
“The murders of Xu Yun and Tang Xin really had nothing to do with you.”
“But…”
Ji Lin lifted his head, momentarily at a loss for words.
Even though Xu Yun and Tang Xin’s deaths weren’t tied to him, the plan to kill Lin Xian at 00:42—that was undeniably his.
And Lin Xian knew it, too.
Even if the attempt hadn’t been carried out, Lin Xian must have understood his initial intent: to kill him.
“However,” Lin Xian continued, his tone firm, “justice always prevails, Ji Lin. The other crimes you’ve committed are enough to keep you behind bars for many years.”
Ji Lin closed his eyes and nodded.
He accepted it—it was what he deserved.
But oddly, as memories of his deeds under Ji Xin Shui’s orders and the vengeful path he had walked flooded his mind, a strange sense of relief washed over him.
“Still…”
Lin Xian’s voice shifted as he patted Ji Lin on the shoulder.
“Regarding what you told me about the Genius Club… I’m intrigued.”
“I’ve arranged for you to have an opportunity to atone for your crimes. You’ll still wear the electronic ankle monitor, but you’ll have some degree of external freedom.”
“I want you to stay by my side and help uncover the mysteries of the Genius Club. If we’re lucky, we might even expose the real masterminds behind everything. Do that, and your sentence could be commuted.”
At that moment, Ji Lin couldn’t hold back his most pressing question.
“Even though I once tried to kill you… you still…”
Lin Xian exhaled deeply and shook his head.
“You should be grateful, Ji Lin, that Xu Yun and Tang Xin’s deaths truly had nothing to do with you. That’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
“I can forgive certain actions for myself, but I cannot forgive anyone on behalf of my friends.”
For a fleeting moment, Ji Lin smiled, a genuine expression of relief.
Friends.
Friends…
“It seems my farewell letter was a waste of effort after all,” Ji Lin said with a light chuckle.
He looked up at Lin Xian.
“Lin Xian, let’s take a trip to Princeton in the United States. To Marshall Street, to Einstein’s former residence.”
“What for?” Lin Xian asked, puzzled.
“The secrets of the Genius Club,” Ji Lin explained. “The painting The Melancholy Einstein, the uneven layers of oil paint hiding a mathematical puzzle…”
Ji Lin extended his hand toward Lin Xian with a faint smile.
“Let’s uncover the deepest secrets of this world together!”