Chu Tianqiu sat in the dimly lit room, eating his breakfast, when he suddenly heard faint knocking at the door.
“What is it?” he asked.
“He has a question… for you,” came the voice from outside.
“Let me guess…” Chu Tianqiu slowly stroked his chin. “Could it be… he wants to ask how long I’ve been here?”
“Exactly,” the shadowy figure outside nodded.
“How amusing.” A faint, knowing smile crept onto Chu Tianqiu’s face. “Qi Xia, that’s more like it…”
“It’s my fault…” The voice outside sounded hesitant. “I didn’t expect Qi Xia to notice the flaw.”
“Not your doing,” Chu Tianqiu shook his head. “Even if we could deceive everyone else, we could never deceive Qi Xia. He would have found out sooner or later—just much earlier than I anticipated.”
“So, how should we answer his question?” The voice outside sounded troubled. “He said if you answer wrong, you’ll be completely ‘out of the game.'”
“Is that so?” Chu Tianqiu nodded slightly and walked to the table, where a notebook lay.
The notebook was filled with seemingly random words.
Words like “rage,” “despair,” “fear,” “reluctance,” “longing,” “pride,” “grief,” and “regret” densely covered the page. Strangely, many of them had been crossed out.
“Has Qi Xia not yet ‘echoed’?” Chu Tianqiu asked.
“No,” came the reply from outside.
Chu Tianqiu’s expression darkened as he picked up a pen and crossed out “regret.”
Now, the only word left on the page was “grief.”
He capped the pen and gently tapped the word with his finger. “I think I’ve found the answer.”
“Really?” The shadow outside seemed to ponder. “But… what if we didn’t give Qi Xia enough ‘regret’?”
“Oh?” Chu Tianqiu paused in thought. “Are you saying… he doesn’t care about his teammates’ lives at all?”
“I can’t say for sure,” the voice replied. “I couldn’t read anything from his expression.”
“Interesting.” Chu Tianqiu nodded. “So, he deliberately walked into the trap… knowingly taking a risk, even at the cost of his teammates, just to expose my existence.”
“At the cost of teammates…” The voice outside hesitated. “Tianqiu, we lost two teammates too… Is this Qi Xia really that important? More important than Jin Yuanxun?”
Chu Tianqiu didn’t answer. After a long silence, he asked instead, “Has Lin Qin joined ‘Paradise’?”
“Yes.”
“What a rare sight…” Chu Tianqiu tapped the table. “I think I’ll meet her.”
“But—but she’s ‘Extremism’!” The voice outside sounded panicked.
“Veteran ‘Extremists’ like her are rare these days,” Chu Tianqiu stood slowly. “She’s different from those newly turned fanatics.”
After a long pause, the voice outside said, “Understood.”
Chu Tianqiu smiled faintly. “Does your mouth still hurt from Qi Xia’s punch?”
The voice outside didn’t answer. After a while, it asked instead, “So, how will you answer Qi Xia’s question?”
“Simple. Tell him: ‘I never left.'”
—
Qiao Jiajin held a cloth bag, his mood exceptionally cheerful.
“Psychologist, writer, you two are pretty sharp.”
He opened the bag and counted—this time, the “Human-Dog” game had earned them six “Dao.”
He just wasn’t sure if six “Dao” would be enough to buy liquor.
Lin Qin frowned slightly, taking the bag from him, her fingers brushing against his accidentally.
Qiao Jiajin didn’t react, simply shoving his hands into his pockets once the bag was gone.
Lin Qin sighed softly. “Qiao Jiajin, what are you thinking about?”
“What am I thinking?” He blinked. “Why ask so bluntly?”
He wanted to use the “Dao” to buy alcohol, but he couldn’t say it outright.
“I…” Lin Qin sensed something off about him.
Like Qi Xia, no matter how much she touched him, there was no sign of an “echo.”
She suspected that fully awakening Qiao Jiajin’s ability would require unleashing her own “echo” completely—but that would trigger the Bell, making things complicated.
“Are you suppressing your true self?” she asked.
“Huh?” Qiao Jiajin froze. “Why would I do that?”
Despite his denial, Lin Qin noticed something.
She felt that Qiao Jiajin wasn’t truly himself—or rather, he wasn’t acting as himself.
“Qiao Jiajin, remember who you are,” she said. “Don’t suppress your real thoughts.”
“Myself…?” His gaze turned cold.
“Who are you? What unfinished desires did you have before coming here?”
“I…”
A faint bell seemed to ring in his ears.
Without the disguise, the memories were unbearably bitter.
“I’ve always been like this,” Qiao Jiajin cut off the thought, flashing a grin as he turned away. “Psychologist, I can’t afford your sessions, so no need to diagnose me.”
He lazily stretched and walked ahead.
Lin Qin knew that Qiao Jiajin’s difficulty in triggering an “echo” wasn’t necessarily bad.
It just meant his “echo” was incredibly powerful.
She glanced helplessly at Han Yimo and muttered, “At least stronger than ‘Misfortune.'”
The three wandered aimlessly through the city, about to head to the next game, when a massive bell tolled.
“What?” Lin Qin startled—the sound was close.
Who had “echoed”?
Was it one of theirs?
“Let’s check it out,” she pointed toward the direction of the bell. The three changed course.
But as soon as they reached the giant screen, another deafening toll resounded.
The “echo” had ended.
Only a single line remained on the screen:
“I heard the echo of ‘Misfortune.'”
“Was that a near-death ‘echo’?” Lin Qin murmured to herself.
Qiao Jiajin stared at the screen thoughtfully. “Whose ‘echo’ is ‘Misfortune’? Why is it always here?”
“It’s…” Lin Qin glanced at Han Yimo, who showed no reaction. “I don’t know.”
They waited briefly, but nothing else appeared. Just as they were about to leave, the screen suddenly refreshed with multiple lines.
Then came the thunderous, continuous tolling of the Bell, shaking the three standing before it.
“I heard the echo of ‘Shift.'”
“I heard the echo of ‘Karma.'”
“I heard the echo of ‘Original.'”
Alongside the original “Misfortune,” four lines now flickered on the screen—an eerie sight.
“Wh-what’s happening?” Han Yimo stood frozen.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage