"Indeed, ten people."
Yun Yao and Chu Tianqiu fell into a brief, contemplative silence.
Suddenly, Chu Tianqiu lifted his gaze, his tone probing. "If your room contained {ten people}, then how did you deduce that ours holds {nine}?"
Qi Xia’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Because when the nine of us left the room, {Mortal Dragon} remarked how {everyone managed to survive}." His voice carried an edge of irony. "Strange, though—if {everyone managed to survive}, shouldn’t there have been ten of us walking out?"
Chu Tianqiu nodded silently, finding Qi Xia’s mind just as sharp as he had imagined.
"However," Qi Xia continued, "the notion of {nine people} still makes sense. The escape devices in the room were clearly designed for {nine people}."
"Our room had nine table segments and nine ropes. If there had truly been {ten people}, distributing those resources would have been impossible."
"In other words," Qi Xia went on, his voice steady, "this game was originally built for nine participants. As long as nine individuals exit the room, it can be deemed that {everyone survived}." His expression darkened as his gaze drifted toward the window, weighed down by thought. "But if that’s the case, why were there ten people in our room?"
The silence stretched, and neither Chu Tianqiu nor Yun Yao replied. Qi Xia pressed on. "From this, I can only deduce that an extra person was present. That person either activated some hidden ability or bribed {Mortal Goat}. Whatever the case, {Mortal Goat} eliminated the true {participant} to cover their presence."
Chu Tianqiu blinked, asking, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» "You reached such a conclusion from so few clues?"
"Not exactly {precise}," Qi Xia corrected coolly. "Before meeting you, I couldn’t be sure whether the suspect was male or female." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied Chu Tianqiu. "But now, it’s my turn to ask you something."
"Go ahead," Chu Tianqiu nodded. "What do you want to know?"
"How did you know the personnel configuration of our room?" Qi Xia asked. "Even we, the ones directly involved, aren’t certain. So how did you come by this information?"
Chu Tianqiu slowly licked his dry lips. "I regret that I cannot answer that—it’s practically the core secret of {Passage to Heaven}."
Qi Xia turned to glance at him, suspicion etched across his face.
Isn’t the true core secret of {Passage to Heaven} that diary?
In other words, does this knowledge lie hidden within those same pages?
"Very well, I’ll ask a different question," Qi Xia said. "What’s the principle behind {memory preservation}? Why is it that only a select few retain their memories?"
"You must have guessed already, no?" Chu Tianqiu’s voice carried quiet certainty. "Qi Xia, the answer is {Reverberation}. Anyone who hears their {Reverberation} within ten days can retain their memories in the next cycle."
Qi Xia’s mind raced, piecing it together. "You’re saying only {Reverberatees} can retain memories?" His voice carried lingering doubt. He had considered this before, but it still didn’t sit right. Han Yimo and Officer Li were clearly {Reverberatees}; it made sense they remembered.
But then—why could he remember everything?
Had he somehow triggered his own {Reverberation}?
Qi Xia frowned deeply, a storm of questions swirling in his mind. After a long pause, a chilling conclusion surfaced. If he truly was a {Reverberatee}, then his {Reverberation} must have occurred shortly before his death. After all, he had been far from the plaza and, by all accounts, should never have heard the bell.
But if he had indeed triggered it—what power had he gained from it?
Yun Yao smiled faintly. "Qi Xia... judging by your expression, it seems you don’t realize you’ve already triggered your {Reverberation}?"
Her words laid bare his predicament, and Qi Xia regarded her with a new wariness. It seemed those chosen for {Passage to Heaven} were indeed no ordinary people.
"I honestly have no recollection," Qi Xia admitted, his brow furrowing. "I was far from the bell at the time, so it’s possible I missed the sound."
"Far?" Yun Yao mused, her expression thoughtful. "There are giant bells at the four corners of the city—north, south, east, and west. It should have been impossible not to hear them."
Qi Xia’s frown deepened, the pieces falling into place. ‘So that’s how it is,’ he thought, a flicker of understanding passing through him.
But all four bells were within the city—could it be that he hadn’t heard simply because he was already at the edge?
"Qi Xia, if what you say is true, and you don’t know when you triggered your {Reverberation}, then things are going to get complicated," Chu Tianqiu remarked gravely.
"Complicated?"
"Exactly." Chu Tianqiu nodded, his expression dark. "You don’t know how you triggered your {Reverberation} last cycle, which means you can’t replicate it now. In other words, you can’t reliably trigger it, and without that, you can’t consistently preserve your memories."
Qi Xia stroked his chin thoughtfully. "No wonder, when I was about to crush your skull earlier, you said {I can’t die yet}. That must have been because your {Reverberation} hadn’t triggered. If you’d perished then, all your memories from past cycles would have been lost, wouldn’t they?"
"Indeed," Chu Tianqiu nodded. "Such a trivial matter couldn’t escape your eyes. Nevertheless, I must advise you—uncover the cause of your {Reverberation} as soon as possible, or risk losing yourself entirely in this cycle."
The two exchanged a silent glance before Qi Xia asked, "If, in the previous cycle, someone triggered their {Reverberation} right before death, would they need to once again approach the brink of death in this cycle to replicate it?"
"Theoretically, yes," Chu Tianqiu replied.
Qi Xia’s mind shifted to Officer Li, his face surfacing sharply. A paradox formed, logic weaving like an intricate snare. If Officer Li’s trigger had truly been {the brink of death}, then he should never have lost his memories.
Whether dying in the game, falling to the land’s annihilation, or being killed by the {Earthly Branches} or the {overseers}, he should have preserved his memories each cycle. Yet, based on his current state, he clearly retained only the last instance.
This, in turn, seemed to confirm something else: he, Officer Li, and the others must have arrived at {End Point} far later than the rest. They had only experienced two cycles.
But then Qi Xia froze. ‘Wait a minute...’ The thought coiled unsettlingly in his mind. What if Officer Li had retained his memories last cycle—but followed the Mortal Goat’s orders and concealed them?
The more Qi Xia considered it, the less unlikely it seemed.
This would also explain why Officer Li had refused to join Qi Xia’s team and instead stayed behind. He had likely known that gathering three thousand six hundred {Dào} was not a race.
And yet, he had died—trying to save another.
That was the paradox Qi Xia struggled with.
If Officer Li truly retained his memories, he should have known it didn’t matter if Lawyer Zhang drowned—she would be revived in a few days. So why, then, choose such a futile and painful end?
And then came the other question—how many cycles had Han Yimo managed to retain his memories for? Like Officer Li, his body was especially prone to {Reverberation}. In theory, once he reached {End Point}, his chances of preserving memories should have been extremely high.
The more Qi Xia thought, the deeper the unease burrowed.
How long had he truly been here?
