Chapter 137: Happy New Year

The office of Zhao Ying Jun was enveloped in silence, broken only by the methodical ticking of a clock. Under the gentle wash of moonlight, Lin Xian scrutinized an invitation from the Genius Club.

“Dear Ms. Zhao Ying Jun,

You are cordially invited to... witness... the unveiling of a new product...Yôur favorite stories on n/o/(v)e/lbin(.)com

Included below were a URL and a QR code.”

Lin Xian extracted his phone and scanned the code, which redirected him to the Apple 2023 Spring Launch Event page.

“Damn it,” he whispered under his breath.

His efforts to infiltrate Zhao Ying Jun’s office now seemed futile; the invitation was nothing but a clever ruse.

In recent days, Lin Xian had harbored doubts about the legitimacy of the invitation and its recipient, Zhao Ying Jun, whose credentials appeared mismatched for such an event. The thought of an ancient, clandestine organization distributing invitations in such a haphazard manner was highly unlikely.

Only now did he acknowledge the invitation’s falseness, feeling a sting of foolishness.

“That woman. ‘Yellow Finch,'” he muttered, contemplating the clearly fabricated name. Names, whether genuine or not, are mere labels.

It was evident now that this woman’s intention in delivering the fake invitation was to pique his curiosity about the Genius Club. Regardless of whether Zhao Ying Jun disclosed the invitation’s contents or he discovered them on his own, the outcome would be the same—the mention of the Genius Club aligned too neatly with his recent dream.

But the lingering question was her identity and her motives. She had professed neutrality, yet she offered neither aid nor information.

Lin Xian paused, reflecting on the residual warmth of the couch—a sign of her prolonged presence.

Initially, he mistook her for Zhao Ying Jun during a flash of lightning. Although they shared similarities, subtle differences marked their appearances. Zhao Ying Jun possessed an elegant oval face, while this woman’s features were rounder, her eyes a striking blue amidst distinctly Chinese features, suggesting a mixed heritage. Her mature demeanor contrasted with Zhao Ying Jun’s youthful 24 years.

“Who is she?” Lin Xian pondered, unable to deduce her identity.

“Remarkable... your efficiency is impressive,” she commented.

Lin Xian smiled, placing the watering can aside. He had tidied the office thoroughly—sweeping, wiping down surfaces, and organizing—efforts befitting a diligent part-time secretary. He planned to address any remaining tasks after the New Year.

“Do you need these?” he gestured towards a pile of miscellaneous items on the coffee table, the fake invitation lying atop.

Zhao Ying Jun skimmed through the pile, then shook her head dismissively. “It’s all redundant. Dispose of it as you see fit. The company is officially on holiday now. You should leave early to avoid the holiday traffic.”

“Understood.”

As he disposed of the trash, Lin Xian retained the counterfeit invitation, considering its potential insights.

At the train station, Lin Xian felt a surge of anticipation. Although Donghai and Hang City were merely a short distance apart, he hadn’t visited home in a year. Laden with fine wine, cigarettes, and an assortment of gifts for his parents, he prepared for a festive reunion. At home, he skirted around specifics of his financial success, knowing his parents’ modest inclinations.

He proposed buying them a city apartment for retirement, but they preferred the familiarity of their neighborhood. Nonetheless, he left them with a bank card, which his mother swiftly concealed.

With the advent of New Year’s Eve, Lin Xian immersed himself in the festive preparations, a brief respite from his convoluted pursuits. As the celebrations commenced, he hoped to avoid any unintended consequences that might ripple through time.

As the clock struck midnight, fireworks illuminated the sky, heralding the traditional Chinese New Year. His phone vibrated with a message from Zhao Ying Jun: “Happy New Year.”

Simple yet timely. As he prepared to respond, his phone buzzed with additional messages from colleagues, all commenting on Zhao’s unprecedented New Year’s greeting.

Recognizing it as a group message, Lin Xian replied courteously: “Happy New Year to you too!”

He then stepped outside, the sky ablaze with colors, as Hang City celebrated the lifting of the fireworks ban. Amidst the spectacle, another message from Zhao Ying Jun appeared on his phone, unnoticed as it blended into the night’s festivities, the screen eventually fading to black.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation