Chapter 352: Watch Me Closely

The good compatibility between Tai Chong and Jue Yuan made Ning Zhe suspect that Zhao You was merely a decoy to conceal his true intent—that Fan Daike actually wanted Jue Yuan.

But when Yu Zi was still alive, Fan Daike had ample time and opportunity to strike at him, yet did nothing at all; thinking of this, Ning Zhe felt it unlikely Fan Daike coveted Jue Yuan.

Dammit, my left brain is attacking my right brain—what exactly does Fan Daike want, Zhao You or Jue Yuan?

“Let’s assume he wants both…” Ning Zhe thought.

Throughout history, capable strategists rarely bet everything on a single move; instead, they set multiple objectives before acting—achieving even one counts as a small win, and achieving several is a resounding victory, much like having a first and second choice.

Prumelia knelt on the carpet, her two slender white legs neatly folded together, her small chin resting lightly on Ning Zhe’s knee, her eyes half-lidded like a cat dozing on her master’s shoulder.

“Stand up,” Ning Zhe said.

“Yes,” Prumelia opened her eyes, rose obediently, her slender waist straight, hands folded before her abdomen, her posture like fresh emerald bamboo after rain, her eyes glistening as she gazed at him: “Omniscient and Almighty Lord, grant divine will to your lost flock…”

“...” Ning Zhe paused: “My first divine decree is to stop calling me that.”

“Yes,” Prumelia bowed, her gaze gentle and submissive: “I humbly beg your mercy—The Apricot Leaf Scripture describes you in many ways: Heavenly Lord, All-Father, God, Celestial Sovereign, the Crucified Mother, the Wheel of Fate… Which title would you wish me to use in praising your greatness?”

Both All-Father and Crucified Mother? How can your god be both father and mother? Ning Zhe pressed a hand to his forehead, unable to look: “I dislike those pretentious religious terms—keep it simple, no proverbs.”

“Um…” Prumelia thought, leaning forward: “Master?”

“Fine, at least better than God,” Ning Zhe pointed to the sofa across the table: “Go, play a game of chess with me.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, come play chess with me.”

“Yes, Master,” Prumelia nodded, walked around the table, and sat on the sofa opposite the chessboard, facing him across the River Chu and the Han Boundary.

“Let’s play rock-paper-scissors to decide who goes first,” Ning Zhe said.

“As you wish,” Prumelia agreed without objection.

The gambler named ‘Aiqu’ takes greed as his first principle, fairness as his second. If the rules are unfair, the game does not stand.

Three, two, one—they extended their hands simultaneously; Ning Zhe showed paper, Prumelia showed scissors.

“Looks like my luck’s off today,” Ning Zhe said, unfazed, pulling a hemp rope from his sleeve—the tongue of the Blow-Out Ghost—placing it on the table: “Bring out the almanac. For this round, we gamble with a ghost.”

Prumelia nodded; an ancient, weathered almanac, brittle as dried leaves, appeared on the table. Her gaze flickered, as if she wanted to speak but held back.

“You have something to say,” Ning Zhe propped his chin on one hand, smiling: “What is it?”

Prumelia hesitated, then asked: “Forgive my boldness, Master—are you using the gambler’s rules to strip Zhao You away from me?”

“Correct,” Ning Zhe nodded: “Why, does it surprise you?”

Prumelia shook her head frantically, trembling with fear: “No, no—I’m too foolish, I couldn’t understand why you’d do this…”

The Serpent God Zhao You was what Fan Daike sought; whoever possessed Zhao You would attract Fan Daike’s covetous gaze. Ning Zhe had long been trapped by the Serpent God until yesterday, when this extraneous ‘wandering soul,’ incompatible with Tai Yi’s system, was finally stripped away by the gambler.

Now that the opera house’s strange events have settled, the best course is to let Prumelia retain Zhao You and the gambler—her absolute loyalty allows her to bear the backlash of the rules while drawing some of Fan Daike’s attention, easing Ning Zhe’s burden.

But Ning Zhe did not choose this. Instead, he played a game of chess with Prumelia, wagering ‘one ghost’ to reclaim Zhao You himself, taking upon himself the uncertainty of reading the almanac and Fan Daike’s dangerous scrutiny—all at once, deliberately placing himself in peril.

This was precisely what Prumelia found confusing—she did not understand why her master would do this, yet she did not press further.

A god need not explain his actions; failing to comprehend a god’s intent is the believer’s failure, not the god’s.

A god cannot err; if a god errs, it is because the believer misunderstood.

Ning Zhe offered no further explanation, merely watched silently as Prumelia made her first move, a faint glint in his eyes.

Come, Fan Daike. Watch me closely.

Whether your true aim is Zhao You or Jue Yuan, you can only watch me.

—

At 2 a.m., the two left the Mirror World of Room 3-7 and returned to the real world aboard the Saint Abilene airship.

Xia Yubing was dozing on the sofa, half-asleep, when she suddenly felt Mei Lin spring to her feet beside her. When she opened her eyes again, two people stood in the room.

“Miss!”

“Ning Zhe?” Xia Yubing rubbed her eyes, seeing Ning Zhe standing beside her—unknown when he’d arrived—and the black-dressed girl clutched tightly in Mei Lin’s tear-filled arms.

“Is it over?” Xia Yubing shifted closer to Ning Zhe, whispering in his ear.

“For now,” Ning Zhe closed his eyes: “At least the ink lines outside the opera house can be wiped away.”

“Good…” Xia Yubing exhaled deeply. This was the first time since leaving Zanju Town that she had personally experienced a strange event—if Ning Zhe hadn’t played the Requiem to hypnotize the God of Wealth at the end of the gamble, she would have died at the table.

But now, sitting beside Ning Zhe, turning her head to see his familiar profile, smelling the faint scent of his sweat, a calm sense of safety washed over her, relaxing her entire body, easing her tense nerves, lifting the weight of dread.

Xia Yubing couldn’t help shifting even closer, pressing her body against his, lowering her head to rest on his shoulder—but before she could, a sudden chill prickled her skin. She looked up and met a pair of pitch-black, piercing eyes fixed on them, staring intently at the two pressed together on the sofa.

“Huh?” Xia Yubing froze, instinctively on guard:

“What’s with this girl? So young, and already so fierce…”

(End of Chapter)