Genius Playground

Jiang Ran put the [Designated Truth] card in his pocket and tucked it away.

If this card could really extract the ”truth” at any time and under any circumstances, using it here would be a total waste.

But...

Everyone was an adult; no one would be naive enough to believe this thing had any binding power.

For example, if Jiang Ran used this card to ask Cheng Mengxue, ”Are you the real her or not? Why are you pretending to be Cheng Mengxue?”... well, it didn’t take a genius to know she would never admit it.

That’s just how people are. They lie when they need to lie and break promises when they need to break them. Everything is weighed against potential benefits and risks.

However, the card wasn’t completely useless either.

Jiang Ran believed that while this [Designated Truth] effect card would surely fail on major, crucial questions... it could be a killer move for seemingly unimportant little questions that secretly held the truth.

As they say, the devil is in the details.

He wouldn’t be stupid enough to treat this toy card as a silver bullet to slay demons, but by focusing on the small things, he could achieve an effect no less powerful.

...

After finishing Truth or Dare, they played a few other games, and the birthday party came to a happy end.

Wang Hao hailed a cab straight back to the East Sea College of International Trade and Economics, while the others walked back to East Sea University.

Everyone was laughing and chatting on the way, but whether by chance or by design, the group gradually stretched out and separated...

Eventually, a formation emerged where everyone else was walking ahead, while Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue fell behind, a gap of several dozen meters between them.

The two of them walked on slowly.

Cheng Mengxue, wearing a backpack, walked with her hands behind her back, carefully stepping on the square paving stones one by one.

Jiang Ran carried a large bag in each hand—the birthday gifts Cheng Mengxue had received, which he was carrying for her.

Pop music drifted from a corner store, providing a free and romantic rhythm for this fruitful September autumn.

”Hey.”

Cheng Mengxue, who was strictly keeping her steps within the borders of the paving stones, suddenly spoke.

”Have you ever thought about it? If people could really travel through time and go back to the past... what would you want to do?”

Jiang Ran watched her in silence.

’Is she... trying to get information out of me again?’

He had a feeling that this whole time, Cheng Mengxue had been growing more and more preoccupied with things like ”Time Travel” and ”Time Machines.”

A week ago, when Professor Yan Chonghan passed away, she had asked if there was any way to make up for it.

The day before yesterday, when she’d ambushed the Film Club’s activity room, she had also shown an unusual curiosity about the Positron Cannon.

And today, she was asking point-blank what he would do if he could really travel through time.

’Am I being too sensitive? Or... is this not just my imagination?’

”Do you have any regrets?” Cheng Mengxue looked up.

Jiang Ran blinked.

He hummed in affirmation.

”If it were me... I’d probably want to go back two years and prevent that car accident. The one you were in, the day after the college entrance exams.”

Cheng Mengxue smiled faintly.

”But I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

”It’s not the same.”

Jiang Ran shook his head.

”Even if you’re fine now, the injuries you suffered, the pain you went through, and the two years you spent away from home... those are all real.”

”That accident didn’t just affect you. Your parents, me, Wang Hao, Xu Yan, and so on—a lot of people and a lot of things changed because of your accident, sending us all down different paths.”

”If it weren’t for that accident, you wouldn’t have had to suffer, your parents wouldn’t have had to leave Dragon Country, and I wouldn’t have gone to that vocational college.”

”But unfortunately, there are no do-overs in life. Time travel... is probably something that only happens in sci-fi movies.”

He watched Cheng Mengxue hopping from one paving stone to the next and chuckled softly.

”What about you? If you could travel back in time, what would you do?”

At this question, Cheng Mengxue stopped hopping on the stones.

She slowed her pace and fell silent.

”Hmm?” Jiang Ran prompted.

”I...”

Cheng Mengxue was at a loss for words.

”I... I probably haven’t really thought about it.”

She looked up, a cheerful grin chasing away the gloom.

”After all, I don’t have many regrets in my life, do I? I’ve been happy and carefree since I was little, I have all you guys as friends, and I’ve been happy every single day.”

Jiang Ran gave a dry laugh and said nothing.

He had a feeling that ever since he’d discovered that small ”crack” in her facade at the birthday party, more and more cracks were starting to appear.

Or perhaps he had simply gained a unique perspective, allowing him to see the subtle, unusual things about her.

Like just now, when he’d turned the question back on her, asking what she would do if she could go back in time.

In that moment, her expression had been dead serious, her eyes clearly hiding an answer.

But in the end, she hadn’t said it, and it didn’t seem like she planned to.

Even now, the look on Cheng Mengxue’s face when she said, ”Big sister grew up... one step ahead of you,” still lingered in Jiang Ran’s mind.

That look, a gentle gaze mixed with familial affection, was absolutely not how Cheng Mengxue should be looking at him.

Jiang Ran was certain that it was the look of a [biological sister looking at her biological brother], an intensity unique to the bond where blood is thicker than water.

He and Cheng Mengxue were not siblings, nor had they ever referred to each other as such.

The way she looked at him could be the innocent affection between childhood friends, the warmth between long-lost classmates, or even the shy, ambiguous feelings between potential lovers...

But it could absolutely not be an expression of familial love between a sister and a brother.

[’Only someone who has truly been an older sister could have such a complex yet sincere look in her eyes.’]

Right.

Just like Xu Yan.

Jiang Ran suddenly realized that the look in Cheng Mengxue’s eyes just now was just like how Xu Yan usually looked at Cheng Mengxue. It was a look that belonged exclusively to an older sister—

a hint of indulgent affection,

a fated, biological connection,

the pride of having watched you grow up,

the longing of someone reluctant to leave.

It couldn’t be that...

during her two years in the United States, Cheng Mengxue’s parents had secretly had a baby brother for her, right?

AHEM.

Jiang Ran nearly choked.

’No way. What kind of nonsense am I thinking?’

’Cheng Mengxue’s house in the United States had weeds growing half as tall as a person. Her parents clearly weren’t living there, so how could they have had another son?’

”By the way, when are your parents coming back to the country?”

Jiang Ran asked.

”I haven’t seen them in two years. I kind of miss Uncle and Auntie.”

”They should be back within the next two months.”

Cheng Mengxue walked on with her hands behind her back.

”It won’t be too long, anyway. They’ve already decided they’re spending the New Year in Dragon Country this year.”

”That’s great.”

Jiang Ran nodded.

”Speaking of which, you’ve been back for so long, and I still haven’t said hello to them.”

He pretended to check his watch.

”Right now... it should be morning in the United States, right?”

”Since it’s your birthday today, why don’t you give them a call? Let me say hi to them while you’re at it.”

”Sure.”

Without any hesitation, Cheng Mengxue opened a popular international chat app and initiated a video call.

The call connected quickly, and Cheng Mengxue’s father appeared on the screen, smiling cheerfully.

”Xiaoxue, happy birthday! You must have finished dinner with your friends by now, right?”

”Heehee, yeah, we just finished. Dad, look who it is!”

With that, Cheng Mengxue handed the phone to Jiang Ran.

Jiang Ran took the phone and smiled at the familiar face on the screen.

”Uncle, good morning! The weather looks great over there!”

In the video, Cheng Mengxue’s father was still sitting in his yard. The flowers, plants, and the grapevine overhead looked incredibly lifelike and realistic.

But Jiang Ran knew very well...

...that yard was overgrown with weeds and uninhabited. It looked nothing like what was on the phone screen.

”Well, if it isn’t Jiang Ran!”

Cheng Mengxue’s father laughed heartily.

”Help me take care of Xiaoxue over there. When I get back, I’ll go have a drink with your dad!”

”Haha, don’t worry, Uncle.”

Jiang Ran stared at the ripe, purple grapes on the vine as Professor Yan Chonghan’s words flashed through his mind—

A [short, shallow] video call didn’t require an absurd amount of computing power.

But for a [long, deep] conversation, it would be much more difficult to perfectly simulate that sense of a ”real person.”

...

Jiang Ran stopped walking and chatted freely with Cheng Mengxue’s father on the phone.

Gradually, he steered the conversation toward their childhood.

”Uncle, do you remember how I used to always run over to your house to eat grapes when I was a kid?”

”Of course I remember! Here, take a look!”

As if a keyword had been triggered, Cheng Mengxue’s father stood up from his chair and patted the ripe grapes on the vine.

”See? I’ve got a knack for growing grapes! This is a skill honed over many years! Look how ripe these are! But this is the last bunch. It’s getting cold here in the United States.”

”Yeah.”

Jiang Ran went along with the topic.

”After you left Dragon Country, I never had grapes that good again. I wonder if you remember, Uncle, but when I was little, my mom would often bring pomegranates from our garden over to your house, and you’d give us some of your grapes in return.”

Hearing this, Cheng Mengxue’s father paused on the other end of the line and leaned closer to the phone.

”What? What did you just say, Jiang Ran? The signal isn’t great over here, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Jiang Ran smiled faintly.

”I said, when I was little, my mom would often take the pomegranates we grew at our house and trade them for grapes at yours!”

”Oh, oh, oh!”

On the video, Cheng Mengxue’s father had a look of sudden realization.

”Hahaha, oh my, now that you mention it, I think I do remember a little. When you get older, your memory really starts to go.”

After a few more pleasantries, Jiang Ran ended the call and handed the phone back to Cheng Mengxue.

”Your dad’s the same as ever.”

”Hey—!”

Just then, Fang Ze, Chi Xiaoguo, and Xu Yan, who had already reached the school gate up ahead, waved at them.

”You two are so slow! Hurry up and catch up!”

”We know!”

Cheng Mengxue shouted back, then turned around.

”Jiang Ran, let’s hurry and catch up!”

”Okay.”

With that, Cheng Mengxue broke into a jog and went on ahead.

But Jiang Ran remained where he was.

He stared at her retreating back...

”Hmph.”

He snorted softly.

”No one would have brought pomegranates to Xiaoxue’s house.”

It was an obvious fact.

Because... Xiaoxue’s family had a pomegranate tree of their own.

It was just that a few months ago, the new owner who bought the house had dug up that very tree, unearthing a rusty iron box that served as a time capsule in the process.

”More importantly...”

Jiang Ran narrowed his eyes.

”My family has never grown pomegranates.”

...

After seeing everyone back to their dorms, Jiang Ran made the excuse that he was too full and needed to walk it off around campus, so he didn’t go back to the dorm with Fang Ze.

He went to the athletic field and called his father to confirm... he hadn’t been mistaken. His family really had never grown pomegranates.

”Son, we never grew any fruit trees at our old house.”

Dad Jiang said.

”Fruit trees always attract mosquitoes and bugs, they’re a real pain. Your mother and I always just planted things like cucumbers and other vegetables. What’s up?”

”Nothing, it just came to mind.”

After a few pleasantries, Jiang Ran hung up.

It seemed that this time, there was no mistake.

The Cheng Mengxue’s parents on the other end of the call had to be AI-generated fakes.

He had used the technique Professor Yan Chonghan taught him: first, ”contaminate” the AI’s database by feeding it a mix of true and false information during a long conversation, then pretend to be casual while posing a question that fit the context but was factually incorrect, forcing the AI to make a judgment.

An AI, after all, is just an AI. They’re artificial intelligences; they can never truly replace humans.

Most likely, in its judgment, it was perfectly reasonable and in line with Dragon Country etiquette for two neighboring families on good terms, both of whom had first-floor homes with yards, to exchange some of what they grew.

Jiang Ran felt like he was peeling an onion, stripping away the false disguises of this Cheng Mengxue layer by layer.

So.

At the very center of the onion.

When all the lies, disguises, and falsehoods were peeled away...

...what would be revealed?