Chapter 1014: A Single Note

Qiao Jiajing stared at the door in silence for a while before turning back to the “Preparation Zone.”

He felt that he needed to report the situation to Qixia as soon as possible. Han Yimo had not only engaged in a one-on-one with Wen Qiaoyun, but their far-right “path” was also blocked. After all, all four doors were closed and would remain so until a winner emerged.

Qixia was writing on the wall, already having deduced over a dozen possible combinations.

“Cheater,” Qiao Jiajing called out.

Qixia turned around, noticed Qiao Jiajing was alone, and then turned back to his writing as if he hadn’t seen anything, quietly asking, “Did you run into Yan Zhichun or Wen Qiaoyun?”

“Wen Qiaoyun,” Qiao Jiajing replied. “How did you know?”

Qixia nodded. “Fist, earlier, when I came to the game area with Chu Tianqiu and Dilong, you guys were standing in small groups chatting. Remember who was talking to Han Yimo at that time?”

“Hmm…” Qiao Jiajing thought for a moment. “Now that you mention it… wasn’t it Dr. Zhao?”

“Exactly,” Qixia said, one hand leaning against the wall while the other lightly touched his chin. “Han Yimo isn’t on our side. Whether he wins or loses doesn’t really matter.”

“Not on our side…?”

“Han Yimo was fine before he came in,” Qixia explained. “But after the game started, he suddenly became tense. I think he must have received some kind of hidden task during that time, something like ‘kill Qixia’ or similar.”

“Oh, I see…” Qiao Jiajing nodded. “No wonder his expression looked off to me. That kind of look only appears on the face of a henchman betraying a big boss.”

“There will always be ‘spies’ in times of war,” Qixia smiled. “But I forgot who Chen Junnan was talking to back then.”

“He…” Qiao Jiajing hesitated. “Didn’t Junnan seem to be talking with…”

“Forget it. Let it be a surprise for me,” Qixia said. “Now it seems like Han Yimo is on the other side, yet he ended up fighting Wen Qiaoyun. It looks like neither Chu Tianqiu nor Wen Qiaoyun know about this. We’re not at a loss here.”

“Are we really not at a loss…?” Qiao Jiajing asked doubtfully. “I feel like the scribbler will definitely lose to that pretty girl. Even if he’s the enemy’s spy, he still carries one of our ‘characters.'”

“That’s why I gave him ‘Ma’ (horse),” Qixia replied. “Giving Han Yimo ‘Ma’ was the best move at the time. I calculated that there are very few characters that can be formed with ‘Ma,’ maybe only some obscure ones I can’t even pronounce. It wouldn’t be too bad if we lost it.”

“Really…” Qiao Jiajing looked at the wall. “Cheater… have you almost figured out all the characters?”

“Exactly… but I feel something’s strange,” Qixia frowned. “If my calculations are correct… these characters should form twenty-eight with some difficulty, but there are just too many possibilities. I still need some time.”

“Oh…”

“First, give me the one you have on you.”

Qiao Jiajing nodded and took out the character from his body—it was “Xiang” (相).

Qixia took “Xiang” from his hand, split the pendant into two halves, and placed both on the “Phoenix Carrying the Book Platform.”

He first obtained “Mu” (wood) and “Mu” (eye), and finally combined these two components to form “Xiang” (mutual) again.

So far, Qixia’s team had collected four characters: “Bing” (兵), “Mu” (木), “Mu” (目), and “Xiang” (相).

After thinking for a moment, he tried combining two radicals again: “Mu” (wood) and “Bing” (soldier).

“Dang it…” Qiao Jiajing was slightly stunned. “Cheater… can these two even form a character?”

“I can’t say for sure…”

Unfortunately, he had never read through a complete dictionary, but he vaguely felt that the “wood radical” and “Bing” should be able to form a character, though the pronunciation was questionable.

Now, without tools or internet access, if these two radicals could indeed form a valid character, they could only take a gamble.

The “Phoenix Carrying the Book Platform” sucked in the two radicals, and the screen below flickered slightly before displaying:

“A primitive character ‘Bin’ (梹) has been received. Please provide a homophone for it.”

“There really is such a character…” Qiao Jiajing widened his eyes at the screen and turned to Qixia. “This character feels so strange…”

Qixia rubbed his chin, carefully thinking about the current situation.

If this rule of “writing a homophone” was meant to prevent random guessing, then naturally the homophone couldn’t be wrong. Even if a few typos were allowed due to calculation errors, there must be a limit.

However, characters containing “Bing” often had varying pronunciations.

For example, “Bang” (浜) was pronounced “bāng,” “Bin” (宾) was “bīn,” and some were directly pronounced “bīng.”

So how should this “Bin” (槟) be pronounced?

Qixia tried to recall every book he had ever read, but none contained this character, making him increasingly hesitant.

If the pronunciation was guessed correctly, another character could be created, giving their team five points. But if guessed incorrectly… what would happen?

Would the character be confiscated?

Qixia became more and more uncertain. He regretted not making time to read a full dictionary.

“Cheater, are you okay?” Qiao Jiajing, seeing Qixia lost in thought, finally spoke. “Isn’t this character just one pronunciation?”

“One pronunciation…?” Qixia frowned. “Are you sure…?”

“Yeah,” Qiao Jiajing nodded.

Just as Qixia was about to speak, something suddenly occurred to him. He sighed helplessly and said, “Fist, say ‘Xiao Bing’ and ‘La Bin’ for me.”

“Xiao Bin, La Bin,” Qiao Jiajing said. “Any problem?”

Three seconds of silence passed.

Qixia slowly placed his hand on his forehead, realizing why Qiao Jiajing thought the character had only one pronunciation.

He didn’t recognize the character “浜” in “沙家浜,” nor could he distinguish between front nasal sounds and back nasal sounds—all three pronunciations were jumbled together when he spoke.

If he were the “commander” for this round, they might have already lost.

Wait… although Qiao Jiajing was just guessing, maybe luck was part of it?

“Fist…” Qixia turned his head. “I’ve always felt you have good luck—at least better than mine.”

“My luck is good…?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m going to follow your guess this time.”

Qixia thought for a few seconds, then wrote the character “Bin” (宾) on the screen.

He nervously stared at the screen, hoping he wouldn’t fail on the first try. It didn’t matter what word “Bin” could form—it only needed to be pronounced “Bin.”

A few seconds later, the screen flickered, and four clear words appeared:

“Creation successful.”