The Unspoken Secret and a Shattered Life

Xiang Qi kept certain things to herself. She wasn’t foolish enough to reveal information, whether it benefited her or not. For instance, the strong possibility of a beacon existing within the forest remained a secret she guarded closely, unspoken to anyone.

Uncle Li was remarkably astute; he grasped concepts quickly and often noticed subtle details others missed. Xiang Qi wasn’t sure if he had already deduced the truth, but there was a fundamental difference between voluntarily revealing information and having someone discover it for themselves.

Moreover, Xiang Qi wasn’t making baseless assumptions. While connecting the literal meaning of words to game rules might seem a stretch, it wasn’t impossible. If this game’s rules were indeed designed this way, then they might encounter more word puzzles in the future. These seemingly unrelated special events could, in fact, conceal what the system truly intended to convey. The numbers hidden within the architecture in the previous game could also be considered a word puzzle, though that one was more obvious and easier to associate.

Doesn’t that make it much easier to understand?

Forest and rain—two elements in the Five Phases. Xiang Qi maliciously mused, ‘Perhaps the potential beacon in the forest is green.’

‘To live a good life, one must always have a little green on their head,’ she thought, recalling an old saying. Green was the color of health; what could be wrong with that?

In any case, Xiang Qi’s act of aiding the “enemy” successfully led the three of them out of the forest. As their feet finally touched the ground outside, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. Before, it had all been mere speculation, and success hinged on the actual outcome. Now, having validated their theory and successfully escaped the inescapable woods, it was undeniably a joyous occasion.

“I’m afraid I’ll have a phobia of forests now,” Uncle Li remarked, turning to look at the shadows cast by the woods. “I truly thought we’d be trapped in there until we died. This counts as a narrow escape, wouldn’t you say?”

Xiang Qi plopped unceremoniously onto the ground, rubbing her slightly swollen ankle, disinclined to speak. There was no profound reason; her legs simply ached.

“What should we do now? Keep going?” Uncle Li asked, seeking Xiang Qi’s opinion. She had successfully earned their respect with her intelligence, subtly emerging as the core of their small group.

“We rest now!” the girl snapped, rolling her eyes with exasperation.

With that matter temporarily concluded, let us rewind time slightly and observe what transpired elsewhere.

The scene shifts to the seaside.

“Is that how you see me?”

The girl bit her lip, her fists clenching tightly, her body trembling slightly with anger. Finally, as if all strength had deserted her, she rose and walked away.

“Qi-chan, where are you going?”

The man, seeing her reaction, also scrambled to his feet, about to pursue her.

“It’s none of your business…”

Turning her head, the girl’s expression was devoid of warmth as she spoke impassively.

“Don’t follow me. I want to be alone.”

The man froze, stopping in his tracks. He stood rooted to the spot, watching her figure recede into the distance until it completely vanished.

…

For Zhou Yousheng, this entire game was an inescapable nightmare. She couldn’t break free, only struggle within it, hoping for a fleeting chance to breathe fresh air before being submerged again, drowning in its depths.

Her life should have been beautiful, filled with loving parents and understanding friends. Even when she voiced her somewhat rebellious ideas, she received only support and comprehension from her parents. With excellent academic performance and a privileged family background, she could have been the envy of all. Yet, she stumbled into this vortex called a game, and her tranquil life shattered completely.

If not for this unexpected turn, Zhou Yousheng would likely have lived a conventional life, attending university and passing her days uneventfully. She believed herself to be normal, just like everyone else.

But she couldn’t go back. The game had unearthed the deepest, most hidden parts of her heart, forcing her to confront her true self and admit that she was an undeniable monster.

“This is who I am…” Zhou Yousheng curved her lips, her fair face filled with self-mockery. “Who would have thought that a seemingly gentle and quiet girl could harbor such depravity within her heart?”

She gazed somewhat blankly at the starless night, her short hair tousled by the wind. The moon’s silhouette reflected in her dark eyes, mirroring the confusion in her soul.

Upon returning to the real world, she had fled her home as if escaping, telling her parents she was staying at a classmate’s house. In reality, she had found a hotel and stayed there alone. Zhou Yousheng felt she no longer had the face to see her parents, nor could she confront her friends. She merely confined herself to the hotel room, scrutinizing the unfamiliar yet familiar reflection in the mirror.

“If they knew what I truly thought, they would probably be shocked,” she mused, a rare smile gracing her face. “After all, their dearest daughter committed such acts…”

Out of trust in their child, Zhou Yousheng’s parents didn’t suspect anything. But she could deceive her parents, not someone else. That person immediately sensed the anomaly.

Her mood soured instantly, pulling Zhou Yousheng out of her recollections.

‘I really don’t want her to know…’

The girl sighed, slowing her pace.

This was now an unfamiliar environment. The moonlight had grown dim, making everything hazy and indistinct. After a moment of thought, Zhou Yousheng unhesitatingly continued forward, never considering turning back. Nothing truly frightened her anymore, so danger was inconsequential.

She could cry and laugh, feel joy for good food, and sorrow at witnessing death. Yet, she had lost the sensation of pain and could no longer feel fear or dread. Life and death, after all, were trifles.

The light vanished completely; the bright moon that had hung high in the sky was gone. She fumbled forward a few steps, feeling as if she’d stepped on something, yet the darkness before her was absolute, rendering everything invisible.

“Ugh, is it too late for me to back out now?”

Squatting down, she fumbled around on the ground, muttering instinctively. Yet, she had no intention of acting on her words. She wasn’t foolish; that person was likely already pursuing her. If the moon disappeared, no one could see anything, anywhere. The loss of sight would allow them to miss each other and avoid a confrontation.

Truth be told, Zhou Yousheng had always harbored a certain affection for this boy-next-door, whom she had grown up with. She genuinely regarded him as an older brother. Even after learning of his romantic feelings for her, she had gently rejected him without letting it create distance between them.

The matter should have ended there.

However, a few days ago, he had become overtly persistent again. Not only did he make a dramatic confession at her school, but he also did many things he thought were romantic, which were, in fact, incredibly foolish. This had left Zhou Yousheng mortified for days. Yet, she couldn’t openly express her frustration, forced to explain herself repeatedly to her classmates and teachers, burying all her anger within. As a result, now, whenever she saw this ‘brother,’ she instinctively wanted to hide, wishing only to stay far away to avoid such irritating situations. The most crucial part was that that person had seen it all…