Chapter 61: A Pig’s Destiny
“You’re a fucking lunatic…” Old Lü was so startled he nearly lost his footing. “It was just ten ‘Dao’ that I won from you. Is it really necessary to go this far?”
“Do you think I want to be stuck in this godforsaken place, living like a pig, relying on luck every single day to get by?”
The human pig extended his hand and touched the pig snout on his mask. Though the mask was expressionless, it always gave people a feeling of menace.
“You don’t understand me… Only ‘betting on life’… only betting my life against formidable opponents makes life here meaningful.”
The look in the human pig’s eyes gave Qi Xia a distinct feeling — that he had been playing the pig all along, waiting for the day he could devour the tiger.
“He really is a madman…” Old Lü glanced at Qi Xia with some unease. The human pig before them had specifically called him out to bet their lives. Even if they wanted to flee now, it was too late.
“Human pig, let’s change the rules,” Qi Xia said after a moment’s thought. “I’ll stay here and bet my life with you. There’s no need for the two of them to help.”
“Huh?” Old Lü and Linqin blinked, both taken aback.
“Kid, what are you doing?” Old Lü was stunned. “I’m the one who dragged you into this game. You staying here alone to bet your life without me? What kind of sense does that make?”
Qi Xia looked at Old Lü with a similar sense of surprise. He realized he might have misjudged the man. Old Lü, it turned out, was unexpectedly reliable in a critical moment.
“Old man,” Qi Xia said. “The more people stay behind, the more dangerous it gets. If I die, take my friend here and go find that man and woman.”
“No. I’m not leaving.” Linqin shook her head. “Qi Xia, have you forgotten what I told you?”
“I’m not leaving either, damn it.” Old Lü shook his head. “Kid, this human pig called you out. In theory, me and this girl are safe… But don’t worry. If you die, I’ll personally see to your burial.”
Qi Xia scratched his head helplessly. Although his opinion of Old Lü had somewhat improved, the man’s words were still harsh.
“That sounds awfully inauspicious… Fine, I won’t try to talk you out of it.” Qi Xia sighed and looked up at the human pig. “You said there’s a new way to play. What is it?”
The human pig once again displayed excitement, pushing two pairs of glasses toward them. “Here! Put them on! Put them on!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Linqin and Old Lü donned the glasses.
The next second, two mechanical arms extended from the ends of the temples and circled around the backs of their heads, clicking together with a clack, locking end to end.
Linqin sensed something was wrong. She tried to take the glasses off, only to find that the small device was equipped with complex mechanisms, now clinging tightly to her head like a golden headband.
“What’s going on…” Linqin started to speak, but the human pig raised a hand to stop her.
“Pretty lady, don’t speak carelessly,” the human pig said with a smile. “From now on, you’ll only be safe if you follow my rules.”
“Rules…”
“Your glasses have already taken effect,” the human pig explained. “One of you will feel the glasses cold, and the other will feel them hot. From this point forward, the one who feels cold may only speak lies. The one who feels hot may only speak the truth.”
Qi Xia had a bad feeling. This game pattern seemed familiar.
“If either of you tries any tricks, or speaks before the game begins…” The human pig pointed to the spot between his own brows. “This will be pierced through. Understood?”
Linqin immediately shut her mouth.
Because she sensed that there seemed to be some mechanism triggered right between her brows. The inside of the glasses had a wound-up spring—it could be a bowstring, or it could be a laser.
Old Lü’s face alternated between pale and purple. He knew that “the more you speak, the more mistakes you make.” He wasn’t sure which sentence might trip the mechanism.
Seeing them both silent, the human pig turned back to Qi Xia. “The game you and I will play follows roughly the same rules as last time, except this time… I’ll be the one distributing the pieces.”
“You distribute?” Qi Xia glanced at the chess pieces on the table, thinking for a moment. “After you distribute… I choose?”
“That’s right.” The human pig nodded. “Sounds unfair to you, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it’s unfair.” Though he said that, Qi Xia knew the “rules” weren’t finished yet. After all, the rules about “truth” and “lies” hadn’t been introduced.
“So, I’ll be generous and add one more rule for you…” The human pig chuckled with a few grunts. “After you make your choice, you must ask these two to confirm the color. But no matter which one you choose, you may only ask once.”
Then he raised his head and addressed Linqin and Old Lü. “For the sake of fairness, you two may only answer ‘black’ or ‘white.’ Any questions?”
The two nodded, their faces full of fear.
Qi Xia seemed to understand. This rule was absurd.
Now he had no way of knowing which of the two—Linqin or Old Lü—would tell the truth. Asking them would only complicate things further.
“The watch theorem…” Qi Xia murmured to himself, closing his eyes. “When a person has only one watch, they know the exact time. But when they have two watches that show different times, they can’t trust either…”
“Are you ready, Qi Xia?” the human pig asked.
Qi Xia took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look at the human pig. “I could ask you the same. This is a fight for our lives. Are you ready?”
“Lives? Hehehe…” The human pig let out a snorting laugh, soon shaking all over. “Living here… what lives do we have? It’s only when I’m about to ‘die’ that I feel truly alive.”
Qi Xia nodded. He understood that the human pig had been living here for so long that ordinary reasoning could never convince him.
So Qi Xia reached out, picked up the blindfold, and put it on.
The human pig silently began distributing the chess pieces.
Linqin and Old Lü watched the two calmly poised figures. They were the ones about to bet their lives, yet both remained serene, as if completely unconcerned about what was about to happen.
In contrast, Linqin and Old Lü’s legs were trembling with tension.
“Do you want to get out?” Qi Xia suddenly asked.
“What?” The human pig didn’t look up, replying absentmindedly.
“Other than dying here, have you ever thought of escaping?”
The human pig’s hand paused in midair. “Escape to where?”
“Back to where you came from.” Though wearing the blindfold, Qi Xia’s expression was earnest. “Don’t you want to go back?”
The human pig thought for a moment, then replied, “If I didn’t want to go back, why would I have willingly become a ‘pig’?”
“What?” Qi Xia felt as though he had stumbled upon an important clue.
“But I don’t plan to ‘escape,’ Qi Xia.” The human pig finished placing all the pieces, then said solemnly, “I intend to walk out of here with my head held high.”