The black pointer slowly rotated, its speed increasing faster and faster.

Like the black Grim Reaper knocking on doors, or like a brief message heralding the descent of misfortune.

As it rotated, Bai Youwei re-observed the point situation on the field. She, Pan Xiaoxin, and Yan Qingwen were in leading positions—all three had 3 points.

Pan Xiaoxin impressed her. For an elementary student to accumulate a full 3 points and maintain an advantage was not easy at all.

Shen Mo and Zhu Shu had 2 points. Li Li, having answered one question incorrectly and lost 1 point, also had 2 points.

Teacher Cheng, Tan Xiao, and Lu Ang all had 1 point.

Her heart eased slightly.

Because this meant each of them had points that could be deducted. Even if someone answered incorrectly in the second question, for now no one would face mortal danger.

The pointer began to slow down.

Everyone’s nerves tensed completely!

Who would be the lucky one selected, able to gain the advantage of choosing a question board?

The pointer slid past Li Li. His breathing was rapid, staring intently at that sharp needle point! And when the pointer slowly turned past him, his whole body suddenly relaxed, looking unwillingly and reluctantly at the next person—

The pointer grew slower and slower, slow as a snail.

Finally barely moving past Pan Xiaoxin, stopping before Cheng Weicai!

“Player 2, please select a question category.”

Everyone looked at Cheng Weicai.

Cheng Weicai almost didn’t need to think, reflexively making his choice:

“Poetry.”

He was a Chinese language teacher—this type of question was what he excelled in most.

Tan Xiao beside him saw the question and immediately grabbed his head, irritably letting out a long “Ahhhh.”

The others’ expressions weren’t good either.

Teacher Cheng suddenly realized something, his face turning white!

“No, no… wait! I’ll choose again!” Cheng Weicai said anxiously. “Monitor! I don’t want poetry questions anymore! I’ll choose something else! I want to change the question!”

“The question type has been locked and cannot be changed.”

The monitor’s tone was calm and waveless, without any room for negotiation.

“Question 2: Spring Society is an ancient traditional folk festival. Which of the following poems does not mention Spring Society? Please answer on your answer boards.”

Bai Youwei’s LCD screen displayed the question and four options below:

A, Lu You’s “Saishen Tune”;

B, Wang Jia’s “She Day”;

C, Lu You’s “Visiting a Village in Shanxi”;

D, Gao Ding’s “Village Dwelling.”

Among these four poems, which one was unrelated to Spring Society?

Bai Youwei’s mood soured as she furrowed her brows.

Due to physical reasons, she hadn’t received higher education in schools, but online courses had never stopped, and her home had a large collection of books—she’d read almost every one. She had some understanding of literature, history, natural sciences, the internet, Go, and various competitive games.

Of course, it wasn’t because she loved learning—purely to pass time and relieve boredom.

So she considered her knowledge reserves no worse than ordinary people.

But regarding classical poetry—this was indeed her weak point. Because she wasn’t interested, she hadn’t invested much energy. She knew a bit about common, well-known poems and songs, but these four options before her eyes…

She didn’t know a single one.

If she had to choose, at least option B “She Day” contained the character “she,” so the answer was probably among A, C, and D.

She pondered for a moment without finding a clue—she could only rely on luck.

Bai Youwei chose A.

“Saishen Tune” or whatever—it sounded like dragon boat racing? Or praising some tune? She couldn’t figure it out.

The one-minute answer time quickly passed.

The monitor announced: “The answer is D. Correct answers accumulate 1 point, incorrect answers deduct 1 point, players with no points are eliminated—”

“No! No!…”

“Ahhh help, help…”

“This isn’t fair! Not fair!”

Wails arose from all directions.

This time, five metal chairs slowly rotated, ignoring people’s cries and struggles, their tall chair backs also blocking everyone’s view.

“Elimination” began once more…