Chapter 993: Of the Three Present, Only One Was Fooled

Of the three present, only one was fooled.

A man’s name, a tree’s shadow.

The world had long suffered under Zhen Yi, but since she learned her reputation had this effect, she gained another trick to play on others.

Just from these three responses, much could already be deduced.

The one who claimed “Li Jingming” was certainly not the real Li Jingming—or rather, no one would believe such an introduction came from Li Jingming’s mouth; conversely, that single word “interesting” matched the true Long Wang to eight-tenths.

But was the truth really so?

No, not at all.

The one who said, “Ahem, I am Li Jingming,” was precisely the calm black-robed man seated on the [Memory] tombstone, while the one who uttered “interesting” was precisely Long Jing, who had mimicked Long Wang down to his bones.

Unfortunately, the master performer Chairman Gong ultimately lost by a single move—at this sensitive moment, the opponent had used a “to respond or not to respond” trick to catch him off guard.

Now, even if he didn’t want to pretend to be Li Jingming, he had to be Li Jingming.

Earlier, when Zhen Yi wasn’t here, pretending to be Li Jingming was harmless—but don’t forget, Zhen Yi and Li Jingming had a grudge. So the instant Zhen Yi realized the man seated on the [Time] tombstone was Li Jingming, she stepped forward sharply, startling the seated Long Jing into a shiver.

Long Jing wasn’t afraid—he’d never feared facing Zhen Yi in single combat, let alone now that he bore [Time] itself; the confidence of the Clock Knight made him fearless throughout the hall. But Zhen Yi’s lingering reputation was too strong; equal power didn’t mean equal standing.

This madwoman could throw her face away to humiliate you—but could you discard your own face to humiliate her back?

You could, of course you could—but know this: since her reputation began to rise, everyone who opposed her, save one Fate Weaver, became a laughingstock.

Long Jing was never insecure—he was even quite confident—but facing Zhen Yi, he always felt an inescapable suppression.

He often comforted himself that the time wasn’t right, that he still needed to accumulate—but now it seemed he had lost.

For just as he tensed his spirit, ready to brace for a great battle, the Zhen Yi before him suddenly halted, smiled, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and elegantly drew a playing card from her bosom.

It was a gold-edged card; no one saw what was painted on its face—only that Zhen Yi flipped it swiftly, glanced once, and laughed:

“Aligned with [Time]?

Not bad. It seems you’ve found that [Hour Hand] Elder. The Fool’s guidance was indeed correct—so it appears Cheng Shi didn’t lie back then.

But to be fair, Chairman Gong’s deception was weak, though his luck was decent.

Want to go back?

Trade me this experience of yours—how about it?”

“Zhen Xin!!??”

Long Jing was stunned. He glared at the magician with a smile at her cornered eye, thinking: one glance and all his intel was stolen—this was too humiliating.

But the next second, the magician quietly retracted her magic card, then turned her head toward the black-robed man seated on the [Memory] tombstone and said:

“Of the three present, only one was fooled. Let’s ignore this one who’s stubbornly silent—for now, Li Jingming, when did your personality become so erratic?”

Li Jingming... yes, the man seated on the [Memory] tombstone was the real Li Jingming. He chuckled softly, removed his hood and mask, smiled faintly at Long Jing. Now that his identity was exposed, all pretenses were useless. To him, the four present were all face-up cards—familiar faces, so disguise held no meaning.

“You stood here giving us a few seconds to prepare—this proves you’re certainly not Zhen Yi. Her bad luck isn’t something you chat into existence.”

“Though speaking ill of someone to their face isn’t polite, considering your sisterly position, you’re probably just as annoyed by her—I’ll vent for you both. No need to thank me.”

Zhen Xin snorted, unconcerned, and retorted offhandedly:

“Thanks, but I’ll personally relay Zhen Yi’s instruction for her to come thank you.”

The atmosphere in the hall grew slightly tense; had the two not had prior contact, they might have already fought.

Zhen Xin scanned the room, taking in the God Tombs, then turned to the black-robed man atop the [Death] tombstone and nodded:

“Where’s Cheng Shi? Why hasn’t he arrived yet?”

Clearly, she had already identified the man’s identity. The black-robed man shook his head:

“Sit down, don’t rush. Besides, how do you know the one who hasn’t come is him?

Perhaps this Fate Weaver has already hidden somewhere, watching our show.”

The moment that familiar voice spoke, Long Jing immediately recognized who it was.

The [Death] Chosen—Zhang Jizu!

As expected, as the man removed his hood, those familiar squinting eyes reappeared before everyone.

Good, good, good!

Now he finally understood—not because of the current situation, but because of Sandreis’s trial!

So back then, on the stage and audience of the Joy Theater, all five of you were clowns, right!?

I treated you as colleagues—you treated me like a dog to be toyed with?

Then what about the Fool?

No, the Fool Elder must be real—otherwise, the [Hour Hand] guidance wouldn’t have followed. Good, at least [Deception] still favored me—it at least awarded a generous tip for that performance.

But you four...

Long Jing grew furious—no, he gave up. Since you all are so good at deception, I won’t deceive anymore. I can’t outwit you—can I not out-honest you?

Besides, now that I know the truth of this universe, I am a seer among this gathering. With such insight, why waste brain cells on you fools still in the dark?

Thinking thus, Long Jing also lifted his hood and removed his mask. When Gong’s face appeared before them, Zhen Xin chuckled again.

“Giving up?

Your mindset still needs refinement, Chairman Gong. There are still others who haven’t arrived—go reclaim your dignity from them.

How about this: tell me about the [Hour Hand], and I’ll help you deceive the ones coming after.”

Long Jing, now stripped of his robe, ignored the “temptation.” He sat cross-legged atop the tombstone, lifted one eyelid slightly, glanced at Zhen Xin, and sneered:

“What do you want to know?”

“?” Zhen Xin raised an eyebrow. “That depends on what you want to say.”

“Anything.”

Zhen Xin’s eyes flickered slightly: “Who is the [Hour Hand]? Where is He? Why has He never been recorded in the Hope Continent?”

“The [Hour Hand] is the first hand created by [Time] upon its descent. It’s understandable that mortals know nothing of Him—since His creation, He has never left the platform of the Cosmic Clock.

Since all of you were present then, I’ll speak plainly: the Fool Elder’s guidance to me was a test. He and the [Hour Hand] Elder had a misunderstanding—but that misunderstanding has been... well, I personally resolved it.

For this, I earned the [Hour Hand] Elder’s favor—and thus aligned with [Time].

How, is this answer satisfactory?”

“...”