Genius Playground

"Huh?"

Jiang Ran felt a little embarrassed:

"That’s... that’s a bit of an exaggeration."

He had indeed written the script, but he knew it would be revised considerably during the actual filming.

Not to mention the titles of "original author" and "screenwriter"—they were giving him far too much credit.

The "original work" was just an embarrassing fantasy from his middle school days, and he’d never been involved as a screenwriter.

But now, with what Xu Yan had done, it seemed like he was getting all the credit for the film, as if it were his own personal showcase.

However.

It was pointless to say anything now.

Just as Xu Yan had said, the awards had surely been decided long ago. They were just waiting to be announced in a few days; there was no way to change things.

"Well, I’ll be on my way~"

Xu Yan waved and turned to leave.

"Oh, right."

Her little heels stopped, scraping against the floor as she turned back around.

"Regardless of what prize we end up winning, there’s prize money. Our club has already agreed that no matter how much it is, it’s all yours as a token of our thanks."

"It’s a gesture from all of us, so... please don’t refuse it when the time comes."

It was hard to refuse such a heartfelt offer.

And Jiang Ran didn’t want to be rude by rejecting it.

"Alright. When the time comes, I’ll treat everyone in your club to a meal at a nice place."

’I have no intention of pocketing the prize money. I’ll just use it to treat them all to a meal and a fun outing.’

In truth, he wasn’t short on money.

Dean Gao Yan had told him he would apply for some classified research funding and bonuses on his behalf—all of which would be kept off the books and out of the public eye.

The nation had always maintained such policies; they just weren’t publicized. Their main purpose was to protect personnel working on classified projects whose identities could not be revealed.

If Jiang Ran were willing to take public credit for solving Goldbach’s Conjecture, he would naturally receive far more honor and wealth.

But since Jiang Ran was adamant about remaining anonymous, they had to settle for this less-than-ideal arrangement.

"But you’ll definitely get funding in the tens of millions and a bonus in the millions," Dean Gao Yan had assured him.

The money hadn’t arrived yet, but Jiang Ran wasn’t worried. It was only a matter of time.

At the very least...

When he returned to his alma mater, East Sea University, next semester, he would have transformed into a multi-millionaire.

This money would also make it easier for him to conduct his research and carry out his subsequent plans.

After he said goodbye to Xu Yan, Jiang Ran received a WeChat message from Chi Xiaoguo. Her exam was over.

"I think I passed."

She sounded a little uncertain:

"If they count my class participation grade, I should be able to pass."

Jiang Ran gave a helpless smile.

’You still have to work harder, little president.’

’If the Positron Cannon were fixed, he could have sent a Time SMS to Chi Xiaoguo before her exam and given her the answers to a few of the major questions.’

’Unfortunately, the current Positron Cannon was the battle-damaged 2.0 version and had lost its original functions.’

The two of them met outside the Film Club’s window.

"We’re climbing in," Jiang Ran said, pointing at the Film Club’s window.

He skillfully opened the purely decorative latch, pushed the window open, braced himself on the sill, and hoisted himself over with a single effort. He then turned and jumped, landing perfectly.

"Your turn."

"S-Senior! How am I supposed to get in?!"

Jiang Ran looked out the window.

There was a flower bed outside the Film Club, making the ground level lower. As a result, all Jiang Ran could see of Chi Xiaoguo from inside was the top of her head, with its two little hair buns, bobbing just above the windowsill.

She jumped as high as she could, but she still couldn’t reach the sill to pull herself up.

"Hang on a second."

Jiang Ran climbed back out, interlaced his fingers to form a foothold, and gave Chi Xiaoguo a boost.

She finally managed to scramble over, tumbling in.

"It was supposed to be a calm and graceful entry,"

Chi Xiaoguo sang.

"But now it’s a panicked, clumsy scramble."

Jiang Ran couldn’t help but laugh.

"You’re full of references."

He’d noticed long ago that Chi Xiaoguo was always quick with the latest internet trends. ’She must spend a lot of time surfing the web and watching anime,’ he mused. ’No wonder her grades are so bad.’

Chi Xiaoguo dusted herself off and looked up.

"So, Senior, are we going to activate the Positron Cannon now? Can we do it even though it’s not dawn?"

Jiang Ran nodded.

"The reason for activating the Positron Cannon at dawn is to take advantage of the building’s low electrical load and prevent blowing the circuits."

"Now that the entire building has been sealed off, no one is using any electricity inside. It’s actually even better for the experiment than dawn is."

"Oh, I see."

After doing this so many times, Chi Xiaoguo was already quite adept.

She went straight to the lab bench, calibrated the Positron Cannon, and aimed it at the transformer box outside.

Once Jiang Ran confirmed everything was ready, he climbed out the window again and went over to the transformer box.

This was probably...

...the last time he’d use the Positron Cannon before the start of the next semester.

He hadn’t originally planned to use it today.

But when he saw the seals, he realized the low electrical load was a perfect opportunity for one last trip to the Future World of 2045.

He was mainly curious about two things.

First, would the elderly Teacher Zhang Yang be able to remember his name correctly this time?

The small, bluish mark left by the pencil stab had already proven a great deal—it was evidence of the Future World’s reality and the continuity of time.

Still, it was always more reliable to get confirmation from multiple sources.

It was perfectly reasonable that the elderly Teacher Zhang Yang hadn’t recognized him before. After all, they had interacted so little that there was no reason for the man to remember him after twenty years.

But things were different now.

As the super genius recommended by the Founder himself,

As the chief disciple of the Sect,

As the rebellious disciple who’d nearly driven Teacher Zhang Yang to an early grave with his insistence on researching the Time Machine,

Jiang Ran was confident that Teacher Zhang Yang would never forget him for the rest of his life.

’I really wonder what Teacher Zhang will think when he sees me in twenty years.’

Jiang Ran couldn’t help but chuckle every time he thought about it.

’Rebellious disciple?’

’Idiot?’

’Disgrace to the Sect?’