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The man chuckled and pointed at his jersey. “You’ve asked the right guy! I’ve been a soccer fan all my life. Haven’t missed a single World Cup game as long as I can remember!”

“Ask away, little brother. Players, games, or even the juicy gossip—I’m your man!”

Perfect. This guy seemed both knowledgeable and eager.

“Thanks! Could you tell me who won the 2022 World Cup in Qatar? Was it Argentina?”

The man’s smile vanished, replaced by a sharp glare. “What are you playing at? How would I know something from hundreds of years ago? You can’t even find that info online!”

“Please, calm down,” Lin Xian reassured him politely. “I’m working on a school project and I just need some historical background. Any idea where I could find those records?”

The man shook his head. “That’s a tough one. You might try the library.”

With that, the man walked off with his child.

The library… Lin Xian looked up at the bright moon. Too late for that—it was already closed. Maybe a bookstore would still be open.

Since his dream was set in the year 2624, finding results from a soccer match 600 years ago meant digging through history books.

“Bookstore…” Lin Xian muttered, trying to remember. He knew the city well, having explored most of it over the last two decades, but most bookstores would be closed by now. He needed one that was open 24/7.

Then he remembered one on Sky Street. “It’s open late,” he recalled.

Decided, he hurried to the bus stop.

Bang!

“Ouch!”

Lin Xian bumped into a burly man wearing a mask with a giant cat face on it, who growled, “Watch it!”

“Got it,” Lin Xian responded casually.

Recognizing the man, Lin Xian smiled and patted his shoulder. “You should watch your back too. Don’t want to be caught off guard again.”

“What?” The man looked around nervously, patting his waist, but finding nothing.

“Who are you?” he shouted, but Lin Xian was already sprinting away.

Lin Xian rarely used the bus in his dreams. He typically preferred the thrill of stealing a car and racing through the streets, like in video games, but that usually ended in either a police chase or a dramatic crash.

Today, he wanted to keep it simple. The bus ride to the bookstore took an hour and a half.

Upon entering, the clerk barely looked up from their phone.

Lin Xian quickly found the sports section but the results of the 2022 World Cup were elusive. The sports books were mostly recent news compilations, and the history books were like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Then, a spine caught his eye: “Interesting Soccer Facts 7: The History of the World Cup.”

It was a children’s book, with simple language and illustrations. Flipping to an appendix, he found a list of World Cup champions.

“At last,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

The champions were listed in reverse chronological order. He flipped to the last page and found the entry for the 2022 Qatar World Cup.

“Argentina won the championship after defeating France in a penalty shootout!” it read.

“Penalty shootout? What’s that?” Lin Xian wondered aloud. He wasn’t well-versed in soccer, but at least he knew Argentina had clinched the title.

“If they reached the finals, they must have beaten Croatia in the semifinals too,” he reasoned.

He returned the book and checked the time—12:42 AM.

Suddenly, a blinding white light engulfed everything, burning it away.

Lin Xian awoke to the flickering light from the TV seeping through his bedroom door. Gao Yang must still be watching something in the living room.

Yawning, he wrapped himself in a thick robe and opened the door.

“Did you find out?” Gao Yang looked up, surrounded by a sea of beer cans and snack plates.

“Argentina won, I think,” Lin Xian replied, still groggy.

“Don’t ‘think’! What was the score?”

“I don’t know the exact score. I only know the finals were between Argentina and France, and Argentina won the cup.”

“Alright then.” Gao Yang stood, grabbed his jacket from the couch. “I’m off to buy more lottery tickets.”

“You already bet on Argentina?”

“Just a hundred! If you dreamt Argentina won, I should up my bet.”

“But it was just supposed to be a fun bet!”

“Go big or go home!”

Gao Yang zipped up his jacket and headed out the door.

“Hey! It’s late. Aren’t the lottery shops closed?”

“Some of them pre-print tickets to sell during the game. I’ll find one of those.”

“Don’t go overboard. It’s not guaranteed.”

“I know, I know!”

Bang!

The door slammed behind him.

Soon, Gao Yang returned, out of breath, clutching a stack of tickets.

“Five thousand yuan! That’s my whole month’s pay. If I win, it’s champagne and car models at night; if I lose, I’m on dock duty!”

Lin Xian chuckled. “From a fun bet to all-in—that escalated quickly.”

Gao Yang flopped down and turned the TV back on.

“Come on, big win! Messi, don’t let me down!”