Chapter 365: Unsolvable Disaster

“The second person, Xu Yuan, is finished. The third person, Chou Qian,” Di Gou announced over the broadcast.

Lin Geng leaned against the table in the room, gritting her teeth, and managed to stand up. Trembling all over, she reached across the table to pick up her “Qian” for this round.

She felt like she might have been knocked senseless by the fall, because this “Qian” was different from any she had drawn before. It wasn’t a “Ping Qian”; instead, it had five characters written on it.

“Chun Nuan Hua Kai Ri.”

She shook her head, trying to clear the dizziness, then carefully considered the words on the “Qian.”

Could it be that the “Qian” others had drawn earlier weren’t “Ping Qian” either, but all had this kind of writing?

If that were the case, did the arrow pointing to the right on this “Qian” mean it affected the room to her right?

“My luck is just too terrible…”

Lin Geng gave a bitter smile, then carefully placed the “Qian” in front of her and took out a “Ping Qian” to throw into the hole.

“Too bad I didn’t hit my head; I can still think clearly.” Lin Geng chuckled, then moved her numb legs a little, realizing she had probably fractured a bone.

For her right now, the priority wasn’t treating her leg but using up all the “Ping Qian” in her hand and accumulating as many “Xu Yuan Qian” as possible. That way, whether it was for “Gui Zeng” or “Xu Yuan,” she could at least handle the “Zai E.”

Su Shan saw that Lin Geng had perked up and nodded slightly in relief, knowing that in this game, no one could die.

If anyone died, it would lead to total failure.

After all, as the “Si Ji,” they formed a “Huan,” connected head to tail and supporting each other.

If there was a break in this “Huan,” it would put the rooms on both sides of the gap in danger, since a dead person couldn’t save the “Zai E” on either side.

What’s more, even “Gui Zeng” would be affected—for example, “Xia” couldn’t skip “Qiu” and directly “Gui Zeng” to “Dong.”

Qin Ding Dong glanced at Lin Geng with a touch of nervousness, and seeing she was okay, felt a weight lift from her heart. She started to come back to her senses and wait for her next “Qian.”

But the next “Qian” didn’t float up for several seconds.

“You handled that well—it turns out besides the veterans, there are experts among you,” Di Gou said gravely. “But you’ve already fallen into my rhythm.”

“What?”

“You spent a whole year fixing the scars left by last year’s ‘Zai E’—that’s a fine idea. But what about this year’s ‘Zai E’? How will you deal with it?”

Hearing this, the group finally snapped to attention. Yes, “Zai E” wouldn’t stop.

As long as Di Gou, playing the role of the “Nian Shou,” was around, they would keep lingering in the “Zai E Nian.”

Di Gou nodded seriously, pulled out a “Qian” from in front of him, and said with a straight face, “After working as a wage earner for so many years, the only life philosophy I’ve figured out is—for ordinary people, our lives are forever ‘Fu Wu Shuang Zhi, Huo Bu Dan Xing.’”

He inserted the “Qian” into the hole on his right, directly facing Zhang Chen Ze: “Everyone, get ready. This round’s ‘Zai E’ is called ‘Huang Zai.’”

Seeing Di Gou’s action, Zhang Chen Ze clearly panicked.

“Huang Zai…? Wait… just a second…”

Her expression turned to one of extreme fear. She had known she would face a “Zai E,” but she never expected it to be the one she dreaded most.

Before she could say another word, a massive buzzing erupted above her head, with a huge swarm of things gathering overhead.

“No… ‘Huang Zai’ is really not okay…” Zhang Chen Ze said desperately, her eyes red and her voice choked with tears. “Don’t let this touch me…”

As the ceiling grid shifted slightly, countless locusts flew out with a deafening insect hum, blanketing Zhang Chen Ze’s room like spilled ink.

The sight made the other girls in the room step back half a pace. Coming from the city, who among them had ever seen a locust swarm up close?

Zhang Chen Ze flailed her arms and legs wildly in the room, but the more she tried to shoo them away, the more she ended up touching them.

One locust leaped onto her straight nose, locking eyes with her.

It was gray-green all over, with powerfully developed hind legs.

On its hard, expressionless face, two huge eyes stared straight at Zhang Chen Ze.

Zhang Chen Ze couldn’t take it anymore and screamed at the top of her lungs in the cramped room, but as soon as she opened her mouth, a pile of locusts crawled in.

She had never eaten insects before and never imagined that live locusts would feel so cold. They crawled around in her mouth, their hard hind legs scraping against every inch of her oral skin.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, her stomach churning as if it wanted to expel everything.

“I’m going to die, I’m going to die in the ugliest, most painful way on earth…”

Zhang Chen Ze’s mind was filled with despair, but she was already lost in the overwhelming swarm, with no idea which way she was facing or where her teammates were.

“Zhang Chen Ze!!” Su Shan pounded on the glass in front of her and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Calm down, the ‘Huang Chong’ in ‘Huang Zai’ won’t eat people!!”

Unfortunately, Zhang Chen Ze couldn’t hear Su Shan’s calls at all.

“Please, fourth person, Chou Qian,” Di Gou said coldly, as if nothing had happened.

At that moment, Qin Ding Dong’s lips curved into a slight smile. She didn’t draw her “Qian” right away but instead gazed deeply at the Zhang Lüshi opposite her.

She remembered staying at her grandmother’s house as a child, and one night, the room was crawling with insects whose names she didn’t know. Her grandmother told her that in such a confined space, the best way to deal with them was “Yan Xun,” so that night, her grandmother lit some unknown dry grass, filling the room with a strange smell.

Yes, “Yan Xun” was the solution; it would dispel the “Chong Zi” in this game.

If she connected “Zai E” with “Chong Zi,” the only thing Qin Ding Dong could think of was “Huang Zai.”

So, she had already used up the “Nong Yan San Ba Huang” on her own, and as she expected, Di Gou played this unbreakable “Huang Zai.”

“Only this way can make you ‘Hui Xiang’… Don’t blame me; after all, locusts aren’t really dangerous.”

She pondered for a moment, glanced at the new “Qian” she had drawn—it was still a “Ping Qian.”

She wasn’t sure if their luck was good or bad; they had already gotten most of the important “Qian” in the early rounds, and now it might be a long stretch of “Ping Qian.”

“Su Shan… it’s up to you…” Qin Ding Dong inserted a “Ping Qian” and then looked at Su Shan. “Might as well fall into despair early.”