Chapter 83: Can You Speak Properly?

"I have heard that spies from the six kingdoms are attempting to infiltrate Qi, and I believe you are all aware of this. From now on, at the end of each day's debate, you will vote to select the most suspicious person among you, and I will have them expelled from the realm."

"Enough with the idle chatter. Today is your stage—please speak your minds." The King of Qi, after opening with a warning, was not overly formal, handing the pace of the game to the scholars and philosophers.

"Now, those who wish to compete for the title of the foremost scholar under heaven, please raise your hands."

The speaker’s voice was robust and resonant—likely not an attendant, though his stature was less than impressive, probably not even reaching five-foot-three. His demeanor and eloquence, however, made Chen Fan suspect this was none other than the renowned counselor Zou Ji.

As a military strategist, Chen Fan had little to say. He opted to keep a low profile, not wanting to stir the waters too much.

Looking at his fellow players, he realized, to his surprise, that all of them had stepped forward. Besides his three companions, there were three unfamiliar faces who also joined the fray, making the division perfectly even.

Player Four, Xie Yuqi, was first to speak. Chen Fan felt reassured by her novice aura; he believed he could easily discern her identity.

Yet listening alone was insufficient—Chen Fan craned his neck from his seat, hoping to observe her facial expressions.

Xie Yuqi seemed to cooperate, her gaze lingering in Chen Fan’s direction, though clearly not focused on him.

"I am the leader of Mechanism City. Every day I travel tirelessly for peace, and last night I marked Number Five, Yuhe, as my target for non-aggression. So please, everyone, do not harm her. That is all I have to say."

Chen Fan’s heart skipped a beat; he drew a sharp breath. "Good heavens, you exposed your role as the Wild Child on the very first day. That makes Xiao Yuhe the role model, and if she isn’t eliminated within two days, she’s certainly a wolf."

His mind raced—his logic struggled to keep up with the shifting roles.

"Perhaps Xie Yuqi is deliberately lying," he thought. In games like Werewolf, every player is a master of deduction, and without thoroughly weighing both sides, one never feels secure.

"Yes, only pretty girls will lie," Chen Fan mused with a serious expression, watching Xiao Yuhe’s reaction.

When it was Number Five’s turn to speak, Xiao Yuhe first covered her face in a wry smile, then bit her lip and said, "Whether Four is truly the Wild Child or not, I am a Strategist Magician. I took no action last night and can prove my identity. I’ll listen to everyone’s speeches; Witch, you may poison me tonight. I’ll swap numbers with whoever I suspect is a wolf."

She glanced at the four others who had stepped forward, adding, "A four-wolf, one Wild Child game is tough. There will surely be role jumps in later turns. If the wolves believe Four is the Wild Child, my situation becomes dangerous. Fortunately, I am the Magician, so my survival is guaranteed. Please, continue your speeches."

Chen Fan sighed and drained his bronze goblet. Her speech matched the Magician’s role, but he couldn’t entirely trust it—he’d been fooled before, and badly.

"Maybe Yuhe asked Xie Yuqi to claim Wild Child and call her the role model, then jumped as Magician herself to muddle things."

There were many possibilities. Chen Fan confidently pushed up his glasses, nearly poking his eye.

When Number Seven, Li Peijun, spoke, Chen Fan was glad he’d swapped out Li’s Winnie-the-Pooh pajamas before entering the scenario; otherwise, the crowd would have been in stitches.

Same lazy demeanor, same drawling tone.

"Concerning affairs of the world: what has long been divided must unite, what has long been united must divide. The late emperor’s enterprise was unfinished before he passed. Now the world is split in seven, Qi is strong—this is the time for grand designs. Yesterday, I divined by the stars and moon; the cycles of heaven are ever-turning, Yin and Yang, Five Elements, Eight Trigrams, all urgent as the command. In the end, I confirmed that the player to my left, Number Eight, is a Legalist spy from Qin."

Chen Fan grumbled inwardly, "This guy, if he’s going to parody the ‘Memorial to the Throne,’ he should go all the way. The scholar persona crumbles halfway, and his core message is just a few words: Number Eight is a wolf, the rest is fluff."

"Last night, as I looked back, the Yin pole pointed to Number Six, the Yang pole to Number Five. My divination for the next two days focuses on them. Please address me as Laureate of Langya, Lee of Linzi."

"This fellow is too deep in his role—playing a Warring States prophet so seriously?"

Chen Fan was glad he hadn’t let Li Peijun pick the Republican-era police role; otherwise, the jail at night would echo with tragic screams. This young master just loves to add drama.

"Four claims Wild Child, Five claims Magician, Seven claims Prophet. Among Eight, Nine, and Ten, there will surely be role jumps."

Chen Fan scratched notes onto his bronze vessel—there was no ink or brush these days, and after two strokes, he abandoned the effort as pointless.

He’d thought Li Peijun was the most literary, but Number Eight, the accused, proved even more so.

Number Eight, Liu Jian, spoke: "I am Liu Jian, styled Ji Zi, disciple of Ghost Valley, versed in the arts of alliance and diplomacy. Last night, inspiration struck and I exchanged roles with another. If you doubt my words, you deny my talent. I hope you will believe me."

Chen Fan frowned, feeling as if he’d entered a classical literature exam. He cursed inwardly, "This modern pseudo-intellectualism needs curing—everyone’s a drama king. Can’t you just say you’re the Magician and swapped with Number One? Must you speak in riddles?"

Number Nine finally brought Chen Fan back to the present: "Yin-Yang Prophet. Yesterday, I cast divination, the hexagram shows Number Six is a good person. My flow is Four then One. I want to see if Four is really the Wild Child. I suspect she’s a wolf covering for her teammates. Let the Witch handle the Magician."

The final player, Number Ten, seeing five others had already claimed roles, looked down at her invitation and quietly lowered her hand.

"Both Magician and Prophet have role-jumps—wolves are playing fiercely." Chen Fan was at a loss, torn about which side to join.

He paused, sipped his wine thoughtfully, and resolved, "Peijun, if you trick me again, our friendship ends here."

Zou Ji cleared his throat and moderated: "Now, those who did not compete, please vote for the scholar you believe deserves the title. Three, two, one..."

Chen Fan raised his thumb and forefinger, showing 'Seven.' Numbers Two and Three followed suit, while Number One and Eleven, suspected of identity swaps, voted for Number Nine. Number Twelve, adhering to glorious isolation, abstained.

Zou Ji announced the results: "Number Six, Doctor Li, is elected the foremost scholar under heaven. Last night, no suspicious activity was discovered."

"So last night was a peaceful night? Looks like the real drama is yet to come."

Chen Fan leaned back, ready to listen to another round of debate. If nothing unexpected happened, he’d be the last to speak, delivering the crucial summary. Identifying the true Prophet would be no small challenge for him.