Ten Day Ultimatum Chapter 62: Fatal Query?

Chapter 62 Fatal Query?

"Depart from here justly?..." Qi Xia repeated, his expression contemplative, his thoughts elusive.

Mortal Pig pushed the two bowls forward. "Choose. Choose the one that dictates the survival of one of us."

Lin Qin and Ole Lu exchanged uneasy glances, their brows furrowed in concern. Both could see that the bowls held an even mixture of black and white stones, making it impossible to discern any pattern.

At this point, everything boiled down to {luck}—or so it seed.

Qi Xia remained utterly still, tilting his head slightly as if straining to discern the color of the stone pieces by sound alone.

After a long pause, he spoke. "Mortal Pig, you choose for ."

"What—?" Mortal Pig's voice faltered in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"I said, choose for ." Qi Xia's tone was serious and unwavering. "Pick two pieces, and I will choose one from them."

Mortal Pig, clearly baffled, furrowed his brow. "Qi Xia, we’re {staking our lives} here. Don’t you intend to control your own fate?"

"It doesn't matter," Qi Xia replied nonchalantly, as if the gravity of their situation barely fazed him. "You said you wanted to {stake your life} to feel truly {alive}, but if you think about it, I’ve been the one playing all along. You’ve hardly participated at all."

Mortal Pig fell silent, absorbing the truth of Qi Xia’s words.

"So," Qi Xia continued, his voice calm yet decisive, "I’m giving you a chance to {participate}." He gestured toward the bowls in front of them. "This ga is between you and , and I want to see what you will choose."

Mortal Pig stroked his chin thoughtfully, brushing the coarse pig fuzz as though it were a well-grood beard, an odd semblance of wisdom playing across his features. He mulled over Qi Xia’s words, his mind running in circles, but no matter how he tried to unravel it, Qi Xia’s intent remained elusive.

This was supposed to be an evenly matched ga. Yet, if he, the opponent, were to pick the stone pieces, the balance would tip into unknown territory. It made the stakes even higher—for Qi Xia, at least.

In a mont where one’s {life was at stake}, the man before him had handed over his fate to his enemy.

Was this an act of surrender? Or was it a calculated ploy?

"Don’t hesitate, Mortal Pig. It would be easier for to choose after you’ve made your selection, wouldn’t it?" Qi Xia remarked.

"Easier for you to choose... after I’ve made my selection?" Mortal Pig echoed, his brow furrowing in thought.

After a mont of contemplation, Mortal Pig’s expression shifted to one of grim determination. "I understand. Then allow to send you on your way."

Qi Xia gave a slight nod, falling into silence.

Mortal Pig extended his hand toward the bowls and, with deliberate precision, picked out two white pieces.

For Qi Xia, these two white pieces were harbingers of doom. No matter how he inquired or reasoned, white could not transform into black.

Just as he was about to hand the two white pieces to Qi Xia, a sudden realization struck Mortal Pig. His hand hovered in mid-air as he paused, a frown creasing his brow.

Wait a mont... that’s not right.

Could it be that Qi Xia anticipated he would choose two white pieces?

This was a {gamble}, a high-stakes race where death was the consequence of defeat. Why else would Qi Xia display such unshakable confidence in letting make the choice?

A sudden understanding dawned on Mortal Pig. He slowly retracted his hand, an expression of enlightennt crossing his face. Ah, he’s attempting to extract information from …

Mortal Pig's thoughts crystallized in an instant, and he now grasped the underlying aning of Qi Xia's seemingly innocent remark, {It would be easier for to choose after you’ve made your selection}.

It was a clever manipulation.

The mont he hands the two white pieces to Qi Xia, Qi Xia would renege on his earlier declaration. He wouldn’t choose between the pieces presented to him but would set them aside and instead make his selection from the remaining bowls.

This subtle move would tip the balance. By removing two white pieces, the remaining bowls would hold forty-eight white and fifty black stones. With this shift, Qi Xia’s odds of selecting a black piece—and securing victory—would increase, if only marginally.

Qi Xia was not part of the {Earthly Branches}, which ant that any promise or suggestion he made was purely tactical, not enforceable.

Since it was not a {rule}, Qi Xia himself does not need to abide by it.

aning…he could {renege} at any mont.

‘You are really good at scheming…’ Mortal Pig thought, a chill creeping up his spine as he realized just how close he had co to handing victory to his opponent. The two white pieces had nearly sealed his fate.

So, instead, he cautiously selected two black pieces, hoping to outwit Qi Xia by reversing the expected move. But doubt lingered, gnawing at him. Wouldn’t giving two black pieces now be equally dangerous?

Mortal Pig gazed intently at the stone pieces in his hands—white in his left, black in his right. Every option seed to edge Qi Xia closer to victory, and the weight of that realization pressed on him like a noose tightening around his neck.

Did Qi Xia calculate all of this in advance? It seed almost impossible, but the circumstances forced Mortal Pig to confront the uncomfortable truth: no matter what he chose, it appeared Qi Xia would gain an advantage.

‘Should I just give him the white pieces?’ Mortal Pig mused, his mind racing. Picking white might nudge his odds, but not enough to guarantee victory. Black pieces, though… that’s too risky.

No, that's not right.

Mortal Pig shook his head.

Neither two black pieces nor two white pieces would suffice. Qi Xia's strategy was an enigma, and Mortal Pig realized he couldn't outmaneuver him by sticking to predictable choices. He needed a different approach, one that didn’t tip the scales too far in either direction.

Mortal Pig recalibrated his plan. He abandoned the idea of giving two matching pieces—whether black or white—and instead chose one black piece and one white piece. If he couldn't diminish Qi Xia's chances of winning, then he would reset the ga to its most fundantal odds: a fifty-fifty chance.

In a situation as unpredictable as this, keeping the balance might be the most frustrating outco for Qi Xia, forcing him to rely entirely on chance. And Mortal Pig knew that, in a ga of life and death, even a shred of unpredictability could be paralyzing.

‘Yes... That's it…’ Mortal Pig nodded with satisfaction, having placed one black and one white piece into Qi Xia's hands.

"Qi Xia, I've made my choice," he said, his tone firm, "Now, this fatal query returns to you."

"Fatal query..." Qi Xia’s fingers brushed the stone pieces gently, a thoughtful expression etched on his face.

Mortal Pig, on the other hand, felt a rare sense of relief. In his mind, he had made the optimal choice.

By presenting Qi Xia with one black and one white piece, he had crafted a situation that seed to strip Qi Xia of any calculated advantage. He now faced the challenge of selecting one piece to question Lin Qin or Ole Lu about, with the understanding that one of them would be compelled to lie and the other to tell the truth.

He couldn’t determine the color of the stone piece he had been given, nor could he know whether the person he questioned would tell the truth or lie.

In this doubly deceptive situation, Qi Xia's chances of winning were significantly diminished.

Ole Lu and Lin Qin, observing the black and white pieces in Qi Xia’s hands, were drenched in cold sweat. They were no fools and fully grasped the gravity of the situation.

Qi Xia's earlier intricate plans and carefully crafted strategies had seemingly evaporated. The ga had reverted to its core uncertainty: a single, decisive question in a situation fraught with deception and misdirection.

With one black and one white stone piece, and the two individuals—one truthful and one deceitful—his survival now hinged on an extraordinary stroke of {luck}.

Ole Lu, his anxiety palpable, pursed his lips and wiped the sweat from his brow. His hands were icy with nervousness.

"Qi Xia, who do you want to ask?" Mortal Pig inquired, his voice tinged with anticipation.

Qi Xia turned his gaze from Ole Lu to Lin Qin, his expression one of intense concentration.

Who among them was the truth-teller?

After a tense thirty seconds, he made his decision. "I choose Lin Qin."

Lin Qin’s entire body trembled at his choice, her fear palpable.

"Very well," Mortal Pig said, signaling to Lin Qin. "Rember the rules—your answer must be either {black} or {white}. Any deviation or hint will result in imdiate death."

Lin Qin nodded, her face ashen.

Mortal Pig turned to Qi Xia and said, "You may begin, Qi Xia. You have only one chance to ask, and whether you survive depends entirely on this question."