Chapter 639: Clarity

"Ha," Di Hou chuckled dryly, then slowly turned his head to look at Qi Xia.

"As long as it's a secret I know, you can ask about it," Qi Xia said coldly. "I guarantee I'll answer everything and won't lie."

"Oh...?" Di Hou nodded. "For you, I have only one question... a question that's been weighing on me for a long time."

"I'm all ears."

"Do you really want to get out?"

The brief question sank instantly into Qi Xia's mind, making him feel enveloped once again in a thick fog.

"What...?"

"Do you really want to get out?" Di Hou asked again, his tone shifting to something less friendly, more like an interrogation.

"I... how could I not want to get out?"

Di Hou slowly stood up, his eyes filled with a profound weariness. He stared at Qi Xia and asked, word by word, "Tell me, do you really want to get out?"

Qi Xia looked into Di Hou's eyes and hesitated for a long time before slowly uttering a single word: "Yes."

Hearing that answer, Di Hou's dim, aged eyes flickered, as if he were deep in thought, though it was impossible to tell what.

After a long wait, he finally spoke slowly: "I'll take it... that you're telling the truth."

"Of course..." Qi Xia narrowed his eyes and nodded. "How could I lie about something like this...?"

Di Hou sat back in his chair and sighed deeply, then said, "Now it's your turn. What do you want to ask me?"

Everyone's gaze turned to Qi Xia, but just as he was about to speak, he froze.

Fog.

His mind was full of fog.

The question he had just thought of had vanished into that fog.

"Wait... just a moment..." Qi Xia pressed his hand to his forehead, feeling panic for the first time.

This was an unprecedented panic. If his mind was shrouded in fog, it meant he had lost the one thing he could rely on.

A body of flesh and blood, powerless abilities, and now a mind filled with fog—all challenging this city of chaos—would be his most helpless moment yet.

"What's wrong? No questions?" Di Hou looked at Qi Xia with a hint of confusion.

Qi Xia didn't respond; he just kept tapping his forehead, trying to clear his mind.

"If he has no questions... do any of you?" Di Hou glanced at the others.

Chen Jun Nan and Qiao Jia Jin looked at Qi Xia with concern. This was clearly an opportunity for him to ask questions, but they could see his body trembling.

He seemed afraid.

"If no one has questions..."

Before Di Hou could finish, Zheng Ying Xiong's small nose twitched slightly, and his eyes widened. "Uncle, I have a question."

At those words, Qi Xia whipped his head around, as if spotting a lifeline.

"You..." Di Hou furrowed his brow, looking at the seven- or eight-year-old child. "You have a question?"

"Yes!" Zheng Ying Xiong nodded, then turned to the others nearby. "Big brothers and sisters, can I ask?"

"This..." Tian Tian was unsure and glanced at the others for help.

"Ask," Qi Xia said decisively. "Say whatever question you have."

"Okay!" Zheng Ying Xiong agreed, then sniffed and picked up his card, "Shuang Jiang," turning to Di Hou. "Uncle, what day is Shuang Jiang?"

Tian Tian and Xiao Cheng beside him both sucked in a breath at the question, feeling that Zheng Ying Xiong had messed things up.

Wasn't this the time to ask Di Hou about his hand?

"You want to know what day Shuang Jiang is...?" Di Hou confirmed.

"That's right."

Di Hou thought for a few seconds and said, "The twenty-third of the ninth month."

Qi Xia's eyes widened slowly, realizing that Zheng Ying Xiong had just helped tremendously. This was exactly the question he had wanted to ask but couldn't remember.

Those four short words from Di Hou instantly cleared his thoughts.

The twenty-third of the ninth month—clearly a lunar calendar expression...

Comparing sizes based on the lunar dates of each festival?

No...

Qi Xia still furrowed his brow, sensing something wasn't quite right, but with his mind as it was...

He slowly lifted his head and looked around, his gaze locking onto the wooden box on the table.

He was fed up with his current state.

The box had originally held the "Shuo Wang Yue" set, and now it was empty, but Di Hou hadn't taken it away; it sat in the center of the table.

Qi Xia stood up and grabbed the wooden box with one hand. This action made Di Hou's face darken, and he stood up as well.

It was unclear if Di Hou thought Qi Xia was about to attack or damage the game props, but he stared intently.

Qi Xia ignored him, turned the box in his hand, positioned the bottom corner against his forehead, and then, to everyone's shock, smashed it hard against himself.

There was a dull thud, and Qi Xia's forehead was clearly scraped, blood welling up almost immediately and streaming down like a unleashed horse, covering half his face.

"You... what the hell are you doing, man..."

Qiao Jia Jin also stood up, caught off guard by the situation. If he had anticipated it, he might have stopped him.

He was right next to Qi Xia's right side and could feel the force of the blow, which stirred up a gust of wind across his face.

"Not enough..." Qi Xia didn't even bother with the blood flowing down his face; he just narrowed his eyes and kept thinking. Soon, he came up with a new idea.

He sat down, placed his right hand palm down on the table with his five slender fingers spread out, then grabbed the wooden box and smashed it hard onto his little finger.

Qiao Jia Jin tried to step forward and block it, but Qi Xia's strike was too fast. The box landed solidly before he could intervene.

A muffled sound echoed, and both Qi Xia and Di Hou's expressions changed.

Di Hou had been watching Qi Xia closely, but his look seemed more concerned about the wooden box than Qi Xia himself.

Qi Xia gritted his teeth and slowly lifted the box, revealing his little finger, which was already turning red.

The fingernail was starting to bleed, and the entire finger was quickly swelling red, shifting toward purple—it was a heavy hit.

"Good..." Qi Xia forced a bitter smile and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "It seems like a lot of things are starting to make sense now."

He slowly raised his head, his eyes now sharp, as scattered memories gathered in his mind. But before he could process them, the wooden box in his hand caught his attention again.

It was strange.

The box was strange.

It was lighter than he expected.

Though made of wood, it didn't feel like solid wood; the pieces were probably hollow.