Genius Club

Chapter 349: Chapter 35 Einstein’s Cipher_2 Chapter 349: Chapter 35 Einstein’s Cipher_2 “I’ve always been clueless about what those two were up to, but judging from your reaction now, as well as the letter Ji Lin wrote to me…”

Angelica turned her head, her cold yet stunning face looking at Lin Xian:

“[The murder of Ji Lin’s parents, and that thing they have been chasing…

is it all the doings of this organization called the Genius Club?]”

…

Lin Xian said nothing.

He looked at the key he was holding in his hand, feeling its warmth gradually fade away:

“I don’t know.”

He whispered softly.

He still wouldn’t answer any of Angelica’s questions; that would be irrational and unsafe.

Angelica wanted to know the truth about Ji Lin’s death, but that was her problem, not his.

“If you really are Ji Lin’s friend, you should tell me.”

Angelica frowned, her gaze fixed on Lin Xian.

“If I really were Ji Lin’s friend, I would have even more reason not to tell you.”

“If he wanted you to know, you surely would have known by now.

Since he didn’t want you to know, there must be his reasons.”

“Honestly, I’ve always been skeptical about your crime suspicion, but let’s leave it at that, since I’m not a law enforcer.

However, I’ll kindly remind you, if you don’t want history to repeat itself, then stay away from these murky waters.

Perhaps Ji Lin really was trying to protect you, which is why he kept these things from you.”

“Then why did he tell you all this?” Angelica stared at Lin Xian intently.

“That’s our business.”

Lin Xian answered.

…

The two fell into a prolonged silence.

Angelica finally understood; the man before her was not as easy to deal with as she had thought.

Whether it was coercion, baiting, or playing on his emotions, this man wouldn’t bite, and he resolutely refused to disclose any information.

She let out a breath:

“Fine, if this really is an issue between the two of you.

I want to ask you…

If one day, you do find the Genius Club, find the murderer of Ji Lin’s parents, will you help Ji Lin take revenge?”

“Of course, I won’t.”

Lin Xian was genuinely amused by the foolish question:

“Perhaps Ji Lin never told you what he was involved in, or who he originally planned to kill…

but I think you definitely have some misconceptions about our relationship.

Why would I take revenge for him?

It’s just a coincidence that our interests overlap somewhat.”

“Then all the more reason you should go to Princeton, to the house at 112 Marshal Street.” Angelica pointed to the key in Lin Xian’s hands:

“Will you go?”

Lin Xian placed the completely cooled key into his suit pocket:

“I probably won’t go anytime soon.”

He was telling the truth.

Given his current situation, leaving the country was far too dangerous.

China, without a doubt, was the safest country in the world, while Mi Country was in disorder, who knew what dangers there might be?

Moreover, with Copernicus’s presence in the Genius Club, it was still a mystery whether he had noticed Lin Xian or not.

Leaving the country without adequate safety measures was unwise and dangerous.

Even if it was information left behind by Ji Lin…

Einstein’s former residence…

it was indeed alluring, and Lin Xian instinctively felt that these clues were inevitably connected to the Genius Club.

Only such important clues would make Ji Lin specifically instruct Angelica to deliver the key into his hands personally.

What was hidden in that house, Einstein’s former residence?

“Heh, I knew you wouldn’t go.”

Angelica laughed as if she saw through Lin Xian’s thoughts:

“So I went for you.”

“Oh?”

Lin Xian was interested:

“What’s inside?”

“There’s almost nothing inside.”

Angelica said:

“It’s truly empty, absolutely barren, without any furniture or unnecessary items.

Everything has been cleared out by Ji Lin.

The only thing in the whole room…

is a painting on the wall of the living room.”

“A painting?”

“It’s an old painting.”

Angelica looked at Lin Xian:

“‘The Sorrowful Einstein'”

…

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes.

He remembered the black and white artwork he had seen with Chu Anqing at the exhibition hall in Donghai.

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The old man on the canvas, hair wild, eyes lifeless, looked like a zombie, a dead man.

His expression was solemn, as if struck by a great blow; his spirit wilted, seemingly soulless.

Lin Xian remembered clearly.

Paintings are usually known for their vivid colors, but this particular work had completely forsaken the color advantages of oil paintings, almost exclusively using black and white across the canvas.

Oppressive.

Weighty.

Bleak.

Miserable.

Unsettling.

He vaguely remembered Chu Anqing once reading the introduction of this oil painting—

In 1952, painted by the realist painter Henry Dawson in Mi Country’s Brooklyn.

It was already a painting from 70 years ago.

Lin Xian snapped back to reality, puzzled, he said,

“Why would Ji Lin clear out all the rooms…

and then hang up a fake painting?”

“No, it’s not a fake painting.”

Angelica said seriously,

“The ‘Sorrowful Einstein’ Ji Lin has is genuine, indeed painted by Henry Dawson himself, not a counterfeit.”

“That’s impossible.”

Lin Xian shook his head,

“I saw the painting at the end of last year, at the East Sea Exhibition Hall.

It was a global oil painting tour, and it was indicated that the painting is authentic, from some well-known museum—I can’t remember which one.”

“Of course, that one is genuine too.” Angelica dismissively said,

“But the one Ji Lin has hanging in his house is also genuine.”

Lin Xian let out a light laugh,

“You’re starting to be funny, how could there be two ‘Mona Lisas’ in this world?”

Angelica spread her hands,

“Da Vinci indeed didn’t paint two ‘Mona Lisas’, but Henry Dawson did paint several ‘Sorrowful Einsteins’.”

“Several?” Lin Xian was somewhat surprised.

“Yes.”

Angelica nodded,

“This, Ji Lin made clear to me because the ‘Sorrowful Einstein’ he had was the one I helped him purchase.”

“Ji Lin told me, the painting ‘Sorrowful Einstein’ hides a special code, though I don’t know whether it was Henry Dawson’s doing or Einstein’s directive.

But by following the logic of the code on it…”

“[There are a total of 8 ‘Sorrowful Einsteins’ in this world.]”

Eight paintings.

Lin Xian fell into deep thought.

He had never considered this possibility.

In a strict sense, Da Vinci hadn’t just painted one ‘Mona Lisa’; it’s said that there were actually several versions of this painting, including an initial discarded version, but they also remained.

But there were as many as eight genuine ‘Sorrowful Einsteins’!

This must have been done intentionally.

If not Einstein’s suggestion, then it was the act of the painter Henry Dawson.

Anyway, for some special reason, this not particularly famous painting was created in eight identical genuine copies.

What caught Lin Xian’s attention even more was…

According to what Ji Lin implied,

the coded messages hidden in these eight ‘Sorrowful Einsteins’ were not the same and were logically related, which is why he could deduce that there were eight original pieces.

What was the purpose of this?

And what special significance did it have?

Suddenly.

Lin Xian seemed to understand…

why even though oil painting was not suitable for black and white portraits, Henry Dawson still insisted on using oil paints—

[Oil paintings are three-dimensional.]

Oil painting, unlike ordinary paintings, is created with thick, solid oil paint, giving the canvas surface an uneven texture with height differences.

This not only gives the painting a sense of depth but also opens up a third dimension, potentially allowing those codes that are not easily noticed to hide within the heights and differences in the oil paint!

Lin Xian, an art student, immediately thought of this.

Could it be…

This was the code Einstein deliberately left behind?

If this were true, where did these codes point to?

Squeak————

The Alfa Romeo business van came to a halt, and the right side’s electric door slid open slowly.

The small window of the front soundproof compartment opened, and the driver looked back through the window,

“We’ve arrived at Peninsula Hotel.”

Angelica looked at the contemplative Lin Xian and smiled slightly.

She took out a business card from her handbag and also a brow pencil.

Removing the cap from the pencil, she wrote a string of numbers on the card and placed it in Lin Xian’s hand,

“This is my number.”

Stepping off the platform in high stilettos, she stood outside in the breeze, tossing her shoulder-length hair back, sending a crisp arc and fragrance through the air.

Angelica turned her head,

“If you ever really decide to come to Princeton…”

She made a ‘six’ gesture with her left hand and pressed it to her cheek,

“call me.”