“Perhaps this matter isn’t difficult,” Qi Xia said thoughtfully.

“Not difficult…?” Man-Snake gave another bitter laugh. “Qi Xia… do you really think there’s still something that can save me?”

“There is.” Qi Xia nodded. “Actually, you know it in your own heart too—as long as you kill one person in this game, everything will be resolved.”

Man-Snake’s gaze flickered evasively, as if Qi Xia had hit upon what he was thinking.

“You believe that as long as you kill one person, you won’t die in this game,” Qi Xia continued. “So you should want to strike a killing blow more than anyone else, right? Only then can you better complete the mission I’ve entrusted to you.”

After saying this, Qi Xia paused and corrected himself: “The mission Baiyang entrusted to you.”

“In this game… who do you think I can kill?” Man-Snake pushed the problem book forward, pushing it in front of Qi Xia. “Logically speaking, I don’t even have answers to these questions myself, so how am I supposed to gamble my life with ‘Participants’? If I really trigger Xuanwu’s arrival… by what criteria would she judge victory or defeat?”

“You just don’t want to answer,” Qi Xia said. “If you wanted to… you could think of the correct answer to every question.”

“So I can just directly declare a ‘life-or-death gamble’…” Man-Snake raised his head and said to Qi Xia, “Qi Xia, you should have sensed it, right… this ‘Cangjie Chess’ isn’t as simple as just an Earth-Dragon game.”

“Yes.” Qi Xia nodded. “I’ve been wanting to ask you—both Earth-Dragon and Qinglong said this game is being conducted for the first time, but I’ve already heard the name ‘Cangjie Chess’ from other ‘Zodiacs,’ so in the design of this ‘Cangjie Chess’… was Baiyang involved?”

“Hard to say.” Man-Snake shook his head. “I only know that before Brother Yang left, Qinglong frequently conversed with him. The two exchanged many ideas, but ‘Cangjie Chess’ was never mentioned.”

“Then it was through suggestion,” Qi Xia deduced. “Countless consecutive suggestions that even Qinglong himself couldn’t detect ultimately pointed the path toward ‘Cangjie Chess.'”

“This… can it be done…?” Man-Snake asked doubtfully.

“Although it’s difficult, there’s a chance it can be done,” Qi Xia answered. “That ‘Cangjie Chess’ would appear here at this time period—it’s hard to believe Baiyang wasn’t involved.”

Qi Xia guessed that this game venue, like the “Man-Dragon” game, was set up in a pitch-black, bizarre location, and this dark space was the “train.”

What’s more, Qinglong had fallen into the trap.

He dispatched a group of “human-level” and a small number of “Earth-level” participants to serve as “referees” for this game, continuously increasing these “Zodiacs'” panic at the critical moment, lending further support to the “rebellion.”

Qinglong thought he was cautious enough—he hadn’t told these people about the “punishment” that existed in this game and had provided sufficient reward measures.

But the clever thing about this matter was that all the “Zodiacs” assumed by default that any transaction with Qinglong naturally had an equivalent punishment. Even if Qinglong said nothing, the seeds of panic would continue to sprout.

Perhaps what Qinglong said wasn’t false—in this game, no “Zodiac” would die; it was merely a simple matter of distributing rewards. But the current situation was that all the “Zodiacs” were thinking about how to survive in this game.

Participating in a “Dragon’s” game, being able to advance to “Earth-level” just by killing one “Participant”—why would such generous rewards have no punishment?

Qi Xia sighed. Now, looking back carefully, didn’t the “Man-Dragon’s” game of “Seesaw” also convey an important message?

Both sides stood on the seesaw. If both chose to remain motionless and maintain the status quo, although there was no way to end the game immediately, at least no one would die.

The reality, however, was that one side would inevitably act first, breaking the delicate balance. The seesaw would tilt accordingly, and in an extremely short time, both sides would gradually change from peaceful coexistence to unleashing killing moves. Even if one side suffered countless casualties, they would definitely personally send the other side to hell.

This was the balance between “Participants” and “Zodiacs” in the “Land of Terminus.”

Qi Xia should have guessed it back then—the so-called “Dragons” were nothing more than Baiyang’s playthings.

Baiyang knew that sooner or later he would transform into a “Participant” and reappear on this land. Although he wouldn’t necessarily experience every “Zodiac’s” game, no matter what, the “Dragons” couldn’t escape.

So he turned all the “Dragons” into a kind of “messengers” that transcended time, constantly releasing layer upon layer of encrypted information to Qi Xia on another timeline.

Looking at it now, all the “Dragons” in the “Land of Terminus” didn’t know they were being used. They were proud of their games and enjoyed displaying them before Qi Xia.

It was just a pity that when Qi Xia participated in the “Man-Dragon” game at that time, he hadn’t realized the complexity of the situation and hadn’t considered things so thoroughly.

Whether it was “Earth-Dragon” or “Man-Dragon,” each person’s game was a microcosm of the “Land of Terminus.” Whether divided into various camps stewing and floating up and down in a giant pot, or trapped in this hard venue killing each other for the sake of rules, there was essentially no difference in the situation.

The so-called “Cangjie Chess,” simply put, was entering various rooms to play games, then collecting “characters.” The ultimate goal fundamentally wasn’t to survive oneself but to let the “Dragon” in the high position smile and watch the show.

That “Dragon” called itself a “god,” set down harsh rules, and then made the “mortals” kill each other—it was a miniaturized version of the “Land of Terminus.”

Just like the great land where everyone resided, “Cangjie Chess” very thoughtfully provided “doors” for escape, but the outcome of escaping was only death.

Since there was no game from which one could escape, could one escape the “Land of Terminus”?

“I believe that in this game… no ‘Zodiac’ will die,” Qi Xia said, coming back to his senses. “What Qinglong wants to convey should be the literal meaning. You may be overthinking it.”

After hearing this, Man-Snake’s face turned ashen. He lowered his head and said, “So I’ll say it again… should I or shouldn’t I believe Qinglong?”

“You can believe me,” Qi Xia said. “At this critical juncture, what Qinglong needs to do is stabilize morale, not make the ‘Zodiacs’ panic, so this time, no matter what, he won’t kill the ‘Zodiacs’ present.”

“But this is still just your speculation,” Man-Snake continued. “You should know that ‘Zodiacs’ are different from ‘Participants.’ Once we die… there’s really no way to come back to life.”

“This also isn’t difficult to resolve,” Qi Xia said again. “If you still feel uneasy, you can choose to kill me.”