Han Yimo hadn’t expected that when he actively sought out Wen Qiaoyun for a chat, intending to persuade her to surrender, after just a few words, he became the one being persuaded to surrender.

He wanted to refute, but he had to admit that Wen Qiaoyun’s words made too much sense.

Only by losing in this match would it be reasonable. Otherwise, how would he explain winning against Wen Qiaoyun?

In this world, there are always people asking you how you won, but rarely anyone asking how you lost.

“Sister Qiaoyun… I was originally pledging loyalty to your side,” Han Yimo said. “If this is the only way you’ll believe me, then I have no objections.”

“Good.” Wen Qiaoyun nodded. “You also know I have the ability to win this match. Persuading you to concede now is just to avoid pushing things too far.”

“Yes…”

Just as Han Yimo was about to agree, he suddenly thought of something.

Although Wen Qiaoyun had just correctly guessed the coin’s result three consecutive times, was it possible she was just extremely lucky?

Her luck was so good that she made him lose five rounds in a row, and her luck was so good that she guessed correctly three times.

Could all of this just be a bluff…?

Although the probability was very low… what if it really happened?

“No… I need to verify once more,” Han Yimo thought to himself.

Only by calculating everything clearly could he secure his position as the protagonist.

After all, in many novels, battles of wits were also battles.

After hearing this, Wen Qiaoyun paused and nodded: “Fine.”

Han Yimo grasped the coin in his palm and casually tossed it toward the sky. The coin barely rotated in the air, simply falling straight up and down back into his hand.

“Guess!”

All expression faded from Wen Qiaoyun’s face. She stared at Han Yimo’s hand for a few seconds and spoke: “Han Yimo, what’s the point of you tossing it straight up and down like this…?”

“Huh?”

“The coin didn’t even flip.” Wen Qiaoyun shook her head flawlessly. “Toss it again. I’ll give you another chance.”

“Oh, oh!” Only then did Han Yimo understand that Wen Qiaoyun was looking out for him. He quickly mimicked what she had done earlier, pinching the coin between his thumb and index finger, then flicking it high into the air.

Instantly, the coin spun continuously, tumbling several times in the air before falling back into Han Yimo’s hand.

Wen Qiaoyun had been looking up at the air the entire time. After the coin fell, she slowly revealed a smile.

“Sister Qiaoyun, as long as you guess correctly this time, I’ll concede without another word,” Han Yimo said.

“I guess it’s…”

“Wait!” After Han Yimo spoke, he turned his hand over and slapped it on the table. “Now guess.”

“It’s tails,” Wen Qiaoyun said.

After hearing this, Han Yimo paused slightly, then lifted his palm. The coin was indeed “Yi.”

“Truly impressive…” Han Yimo said. “Worthy of being an ancient mighty being.”

Wen Qiaoyun also completely relaxed.

She hadn’t expected that Han Yimo, being a writer, would be this foolish.

Where should she even begin?

Let’s start with this specially-made coin.

This specially-made coin had one side that was extremely smooth and another that was incredibly rough.

And the entire room had a lamp hanging in the center.

When the coin was tossed under the lamp, the smooth side would continuously reflect the lamplight, rapidly drawing circle after circle around the room. As long as you watched that light circle, you could naturally know how many times the coin had rotated.

But the prerequisite was that you had to know which side was facing up before the coin was tossed. Otherwise, even knowing the number of rotations, you would still have to guess.

So when Han Yimo gripped the coin in his hand and tossed it, Wen Qiaoyun had intentionally or unintentionally guided him to toss it again.

Although the coin had gone straight up and down at that time, Wen Qiaoyun still didn’t have the confidence to guess correctly. Only when he placed the coin between his thumb and index finger could she determine heads or tails based on the number of rotations.

Such an obvious rule, yet Han Yimo hadn’t noticed it.

Could it really be because he had claustrophobia, making it difficult for him to notice the rapidly flashing light spots in the darkness?

And Wen Qiaoyun knew there was another extremely important reason why she persuaded Han Yimo to concede.

That was her suspicion that if this match continued, there would probably be no winner.

This was a very strange intuition.

This intuition came from the fourth round, when both of them guessed incorrectly together.

She had clearly watched the boar toss the coin with “heads” facing up into the sky. The coin rotated twelve and a half times, so it should be “tails.” But when she guessed “tails” and Han Yimo also followed by choosing “tails,” they lost the game.

Even the boar hesitated for several seconds after lifting his palm to see it was “heads.”

In the next round, she once again closely watched the coin in the referee’s hand. Starting with “heads” facing up, it rotated a total of nineteen times. The answer was “heads.”

But when Wen Qiaoyun made what she believed was the correct choice, and Han Yimo also followed her in choosing “heads,” she instantly felt something was wrong. So she used the “Exchange Card” and exchanged the guessed result.

She won. The answer was “tails.”

As expected, only by avoiding Han Yimo’s choice could she truly win this match.

This was a very abstract result. It wasn’t that whichever she guessed was correct. Rather, whichever Han Yimo guessed was wrong.

There seemed to be some strange power on Han Yimo. Even if the answer was correct, when he made his choice, the correct answer would instantly twist into the wrong answer.

It seemed some supernatural force had intervened in this gamble.

But why would there be supernatural forces here? Was this what they called “Echo”?

Clearly Chu Tianqiu had said it wasn’t easy to obtain an “Echo” here… wait.

Wen Qiaoyun suddenly understood this point. They were no longer in that strange black space, but had come to the game venue outside.

In other words… here, anyone’s abilities could be freely displayed.

And this supernatural intervention was very likely Han Yimo’s “Echo.”

Wen Qiaoyun had seen through this in just two rounds. She knew that in the following time, Han Yimo would definitely place his bets completely following her choices. She had no “Exchange Card” left, so the two of them would only continue toward failure together. No one could possibly reach seven points. In other words, no one could win this game.

If she wanted to take the “character” from her opponent, she naturally needed other means.

So Wen Qiaoyun made a decisive decision. When Han Yimo called for a pause in the match, she decisively chose to agree and demonstrated guessing the coin’s result three times for him. At the same time, she hinted to Han Yimo that she had completely understood the trick of this game. When his state of mind wavered, she took the opportunity to persuade him to surrender. The entire set of operations flowed like clouds and water, completely unlike lying.

She had thought Han Yimo would raise some fatal question, but he merely chose to toss it once more himself.

So in winning this so-called “coin guessing,” which part relied on luck?

If it was truly a “luck” game, why would the two of them hold three cards each?

Unfortunately, Han Yimo would never think of this. He only sighed regretfully and handed Wen Qiaoyun the “Ma” from his pocket.

“I concede, Sister Qiaoyun.”