Chapter 30: From the Future? (2/3)

Last week, when Su Mu came to buy sports lottery tickets, he unexpectedly encountered an incident of discrimination against Chinese people. After bravely standing up for himself, Mr. David seized the opportunity the very next day to make a statement on the matter, asserting his own position while cleverly inserting an advertisement for the William Hill betting company.

In the early 1980s, racial tensions in America remained intense. The 1962 riots in Mississippi, the 1967 uprising in Detroit, the tragic assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King in 1968—all had triggered waves of unrest across the nation. These were only the major incidents; smaller-scale disturbances occurred incessantly. Countless politicians had seen their careers ruined by mishandling such issues, so by now, people were highly sensitive to anything related to race.

By this era, a consensus had emerged among America’s immigrant communities: to oppose racial discrimination, to maintain harmony among the various ethnic groups, and to abolish unfair regulations. For Su Mu, so young yet already standing up for his rights, his actions aligned closely with the mainstream ideals. With William Hill’s deft management, the story made it to a prominent position in the Los Angeles Times. Manager David’s move to expel a customer served to polish William Hill’s image, and he himself received praise from his superiors.

The price was a mere five hundred dollars. What had seemed like a lackluster story was suddenly given new life when the lottery ticket gifted to Su Mu turned out to be a winner. David laughed heartily at the news—this meant an even hotter topic. For just over seven thousand dollars, they could attract countless more bets; the tradeoff was obvious.

But then a new worry set in for David: what if Su Mu didn’t claim his prize in time? They wouldn’t be able to photograph him receiving his winnings…

Unlike most children his age, Su Mu had the good habit of reading the newspaper every day. He had already seen that he’d made the news days earlier. At first, he worried that the story might reach his parents, but the paper only mentioned the name “Leon,” and the accompanying photo was too blurry for his parents to recognize him. For now, they remained in the dark, though Mr. Han, the shop owner, was aware of the story.

When Su Mu discovered that Xu Haifeng had won first place, he almost jumped for joy. His daily allowance was barely ten dollars, and even after working hard, he didn’t earn much more. Suddenly learning he’d hit the “jackpot”—how could he not be thrilled?

With no one else in the shop, he hopped and danced alone, his excitement mounting as he thought of telling his family. He was eager to exchange his lottery ticket for cash that very day; otherwise, he feared he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. On his way to the convenience store’s entrance, he hoped Mr. Han would return soon so he could ask for leave to go downtown and claim his prize. The winning ticket was tucked between his textbooks—he began to fret, wondering if he could still find it, since he hadn’t taken it out since bringing it home last week.

His anxiety left him so distracted that he even made mistakes giving customers change. With Mr. Han still away, Su Mu had to manage the shop on his own and couldn’t leave.

Once he calmed down, a question occurred to him, and he murmured to himself, “Strange… how did they know who would win?”

At first, he suspected some kind of rigging, but this was America, and shooting wasn’t exactly a popular sport—who would bother orchestrating such a thing? What struck him as strangest was that, apart from his own old radio, no one else had picked up those odd broadcasts in recent weeks; it seemed he alone had received them.

The thought startled him, leading him to ponder a possibility he’d never seriously considered before—what if those messages really came from “the future”…?

He had a good memory and could recall all the content he’d heard recently. He hadn’t paid much attention to the details at the time, but now, looking back with a new perspective, he felt a chill run down his spine. There were strange dates, odd subject matter, things that seemed illogical yet perfectly natural, and he realized he’d overlooked the tone of the speakers. Now, thinking carefully, it all seemed genuine.

A joke was a joke, but even in the most convincing films like Star Wars, there were plenty of things limited by the era in which they were made. Each age expresses its own characteristics, and it’s perfectly normal that people in the present can’t predict the future.

But in Su Mu’s recollection, the content he’d heard in those broadcasts seemed perfectly ordinary. When the host mentioned the internet, it was as if the web was ubiquitous. When they talked about electric cars called Tesla, it was as if those vehicles were already speeding down the highways. The discussions about Mars exploration were equally flawless.

He had previously dismissed it all as a product of someone’s idle imagination, but now, replaying everything in his mind, he found too many anomalies—things that defied common sense yet were remarkably logical. For example, there were songs that didn’t exist in this world—songs he’d heard played on that radio.

He could hardly believe any company would go to the trouble of writing so many original songs just to trick people. Take, for instance, a Spanish song called “Despacito”—it sounded even better than Michael Jackson’s hits, and the melody had lingered in his head for days, prompting him to hum it often. Yet, when he searched several music shops for a tape of it, the shopkeepers all said they’d never heard of it.

Bit by bit, Su Mu noticed these small details. As all his thoughts began to make sense together, he was left with a single, astonishing possibility: the information truly came from the future. It was the only explanation that made everything fit. To borrow a famous line from his favorite Sherlock Holmes stories, as written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth!”

Struck by his own conclusion, Su Mu was utterly stunned. Such a fantastical notion overwhelmed his mind: could he have really received information from the future?

He suddenly realized that the days when he’d picked up those broadcasts coincided exactly with the solar storm. The strange radio programs had also been intermittent—perhaps there was a connection.

A customer, having chosen his items, noticed Su Mu standing there as if he’d seen a ghost. He called out twice, but Su Mu didn’t respond, so the customer, assuming he was mentally slow, waved his hand in front of Su Mu’s face until Su Mu finally came to.

“Are you sleeping with your eyes open? Hurry up and ring me up—I have to catch a bus,” the stranger complained in Chinese.

Su Mu quickly grabbed a bag and packed the man’s purchases. “That’s twenty-one dollars and thirty cents in total. Sorry, sir, I was lost in thought for a moment.”

No one pays attention to cashiers; most people don’t even remember what they look like. The customer had no interest in Su Mu’s explanation and left with his bag as soon as he’d paid.

Soon after, Mr. Han returned, sweating profusely and carrying a bucket with several fish inside. Seeing the dazed look on Su Mu’s face, he laughed and said, “What are you daydreaming about? Turn on the fan! It’s boiling in here…”