72 – Unorthodox Solution

“First, allow me to preface this meeting by reminding everyone that I had already anticipated such an incident and issued prior warnings,” an examiner from the South said in a condescending tone.

“You did no such thing. And do not attempt to shift the blame onto us. Guarding the examination papers was never our designated responsibility,” replied another examiner from the North.

“Oh? I do not recall naming anyone specifically. Could it be that you feel a touch of personal responsibility for the theft? You seem rather… accustomed to such occurrences,” the southern examiner replied with thinly veiled implication.

“You southern soft-bellies never miss an opportunity to bark accusations. The only responsibilities you ever truly uphold are filling your mouths and chasing after women,” the northern examiner snapped, his composure already fraying.

The southern examiners were, as a group, noticeably more rounded in build. Their scholarly robes mirrored the style worn by Xuehai, yet the fabric was richer and more elaborately embroidered with flowing cloud and wave patterns. Many of them carried themselves with a certain self-satisfied fullness, their belts sitting a little higher and their sleeves slightly more voluminous.

In contrast, the northern examiners cut leaner, harder figures. Their robes were of a similar scholarly cut, but the hems and collars were adorned with polished bone beads, small claws, and occasional fang ornaments that clinked softly whenever they moved. The decorations gave them a faintly martial air even in formal attire, as though they had never fully left the hunting grounds behind.

What began as pointed remarks quickly lost all restraint.

“Typical northern savages, still decorating yourselves with animal remains like the barbarians you descended from!”

“And you southern wastrels have grown so fat on trade that you can no longer tell the difference between a proper examination and a marketplace scheme!”

“At least we do not sell our integrity for a handful of spirit stones!”

“Integrity? The only thing you northerners understand is biting the hand that feeds you!”

One after another, the remaining examiners joined the fray. Regional prejudices that had long simmered beneath polite scholarly discourse boiled over without restraint. Accusations of greed, barbarism, moral decay, and incompetence flew across the hall, drowning out any attempt at productive discussion. Within moments, the meeting intended to address the leaked examination papers had devolved into an open exchange of regional insults.

‘This is getting nowhere,’ Wendao said to me through Voice Transmission.

We were currently seated in a formal meeting room. Huiran, Wendao, and I occupied the center, while a total of ten examiners sat divided on the left and right sides of the long table. What should have been a discussion regarding the stolen examination papers had quickly collapsed into mutual blame, and by now had further deteriorated into the most crude regional insults.

‘I can deal with this,’ I replied to Wendao.

“To me, all of you look the same. The same ching-chong faces from the same jig-jig street,” I said calmly, yet loud enough for the entire room to hear.

I had no idea how the words would translate in their ears, but the effect was immediate. The examiners froze just short of coming to blows. Their eyes narrowed as they processed the insult, expressions shifting as understanding slowly sank in.

Then the second pandemonium erupted.

Every shred of hostility that had previously been directed at one another was now turned fully upon me. Voices rose in overlapping outrage.

“How dare a foreign mongrel speak such filth!”

“An outsider dares mock the scholars of Xian?!”

“You bone headed beast! Do you think your status as a Xuan protects you from consequences?!”

“Arrogant barbarian! You soil this hall with your presence!”

Northern and southern examiners alike abandoned their earlier quarrel without hesitation. Accusations of insolence, foreign ignorance, and disrespect for tradition poured toward me in a chaotic chorus. Some slammed their hands against the table, others rose halfway from their seats, faces flushed with anger. For a brief moment, the only thing uniting the divided examiners was their shared offense at my words.

In a sea of racists, the only way to unify them is to be Ultra Racist.

“My apologies,” I said clearly. “But now all attention is on me. Realistically, can we simply create another set of examination questions?”

These were intelligent people. They should have quickly realized that my earlier insult was only meant to seize their attention, like a splash of cold water to the face. Of course, their anger did not completely disappear.

“That would be impossible,” Xuehai, who had been standing to the side, answered. “Not that we are incapable of doing so, but we simply do not have the time.” His words finally calmed the room. The examiners nodded in agreement.

“In events of this nature, examination questions cannot be created without extensive deliberation. There are usually weeks of discussion regarding what should be included and what the optimal answers would be,” a southern examiner pointed out.

“Not to mention the debates that follow can last for months. That process is also considered part of the examination itself,” a northern examiner added.

Everyone else nodded along.

“Hmmm. What if we reverse the order? Hold the standard tournament first, then conduct the examination afterward?”

“Unacceptable. Even if we managed to produce a new set within that meagre timeframe, the examination would be superficial compared to what we already prepared.”

“Perhaps delay the tournament by a month? Or at least the examination portion?”

“Impossible. We are under heavy scrutiny from the various sects and clans that will soon arrive. Any delay would diminish our prestige.”

“The thief has already stretched our manpower thin as well.”

The discussion was far more constructive than before, yet the core problem remained unresolved. We simply lacked both time and manpower. I did not fully understand how deep the examination questions ran, but from the conversation it was clear this was not mere memorization. The test was meant to measure intelligence and comprehension. Closer, perhaps, to writing a short thesis.

Hmmm. Array Formation, Talismans, Spiritual Plants, and Alchemy. Those were the four primary subjects. Then an idea formed.

“I have not read the talisman texts in depth, but both formations and talismans see heavy use on the battlefield, correct?” I asked.

“They are not limited to the battlefield, but there are indeed far more permutations designed for combat than for civil or mundane purposes,” one examiner answered.

I looked out the window toward the massive platform and the equally massive array embedded within it. Resting my chin on my hand, I considered the possibilities.

“That platform’s array can support a similarly sized Illusion Array, correct?”

“Should it be necessary, yes,” Xuehai replied.

“Why? Do you have something in mind?”

“Well, out with it so we can discuss whether it can work.”

I projected sixteen stacks of cards and distributed them among the examiners for inspection. Each stack bore various symbols. The examiners drew random cards from the piles, examining them carefully. Raised eyebrows mixed with curiosity, though most still looked skeptical.

“There is a game from my homeworld. Allow me to explain how it works.”

I began detailing the mechanics, the features, and the meaning behind each symbol and number on the cards. The examiners questioned me back and forth, and to my mild surprise they were more receptive than expected. Some nodded along while pointing out potential flaws or inconsistencies. I also projected a miniature-scale version of the setup onto the table so everyone could observe more clearly.

By the end of my presentation, the room had fallen into silence broken only by the soft tapping of fingers against the table. Each examiner was clearly weighing the feasibility of the proposal.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Huiran leaning forward slightly, eyes bright with clear excitement. He looked thoroughly stoked by the entire concept. Wendao, on the other hand, remained still. After a moment, a faint look of realization crossed his face. As though he had finally understood exactly what kind of games I used to play. He said nothing, but the quiet comprehension in his expression was unmistakable.

“It is certainly unorthodox… but it can work.”

“Since this would be a more practical demonstration, we will need to readjust how the participants are graded.”

“It is a far easier task than remaking everything from scratch.”

“We certainly will not need to debate every detail again.”

“There is still one problem remaining,” a southern examiner said, turning toward me.

“What is it?”

“As you can see, even if everyone at this table serves as an examiner for your proposed format, we will still require a few more. This already accounts for dividing them into four groups across the four days of examination,” he explained quickly.

“How many examinees are there?”

“Five hundred and twelve.”

“We need at least two more so the workload can be evenly distributed.”

Five hundred and twelve examinees meant one hundred twenty-eight per day. Counting Xuehai along with myself, Huiran, Wendao, and the ten examiners, there were currently fourteen of us. With sixteen, each person would only need to oversee eight examinees. Still a significant number, but far more manageable.

“The three of us will try to find one additional examiner. The rest of you should do the same. Everyone else can begin preparing the randomized scenarios and modifiers,” I proposed. The others nodded in agreement.

Good. There was now a workable plan moving forward, and I already had someone in mind.

“What are these ‘dice’ again?” a northern examiner asked.

I projected three separate dice onto the table. “1d4, 1d20, and 1d100.” I set them down clearly before standing.

The examiners quickly divided the remaining tasks. Some to search for additional examiners, others to prepare scenarios and modifiers.

“We will have a workable trial ready by tonight.”

I nodded and left the room together with Huiran and Wendao.

“So this is the kind of game you played inside your illusion array?” Huiran asked.

“Pretty much. There are also games where you take on specific characters and fight up close. Plenty of them let you use a wide variety of weapons.” I projected several conventional firearms, then a range of melee weapons and shields, letting them appear one after another before dismissing them. A casual display of the many tools I had used in those games.

“I see. Now it all makes sense,” Wendao said with a quiet nod of understanding.

“What does?”

“How well suited you are for this kind of life. From my perspective, it almost seems as though those games were preparing you for war,” Wendao explained.

“Well, that’s…” I nearly blurted out that it wasn’t how things worked. Then I thought about it again. It hadn’t been that way, at least not before the fully immersive VR systems. And with so much attention focused on space, restrictions on those kinds of games had become almost nonexistent. I had seen more than a few unhinged titles and mods in my time.

“I guess it was,” I finally admitted.

“So who do you have in mind?” Huiran asked next. “It can’t be Wanxia or Ningguang, right?”

“No. Both of them already have enough on their plates.” I looked between the two of them. “Remember the one who led the formation back then?”

Huiran stopped walking and gave me a long look. “You’re serious?”

—

“Fascinating,” Xuan Danxing said.

Gu Linghua could scarcely believe it. The Xuan stood before her without his veil. All six of his purple eyes bore deeply into hers, and for a moment she felt as though every secret she carried had been laid bare.

“My apologies for the sudden visit. May we come in?” the Xuan asked again.

Keep calm. You are Gu Linghua. This is only a coincidence.

She repeated the mantra silently. This had to be a coincidence. There was no possible way he could know she had been planning to visit the City Lord’s mansion to snoop around and observe what he was doing. Her guardian was present. She carried numerous life-saving artifacts provided by her noble family. She was in no real danger, and there was no way he could know her secret.

“Of course. I would never have expected such an esteemed guest,” Gu Linghua replied, inviting both him and his companions inside. She kept her expression and body language carefully level and neutral, the product of long training even before transmigrating.

“Really?” The Xuan tilted his head as he entered, the other two Tianhe Sect disciples following behind him. “Usually I am called a demon. Or a bad omen.”

“Haha. They simply have not yet recognized your magnanimity,” Gu Linghua answered, leading the trio into the living room of her newly purchased mansion.

“Then do not be afraid.”

The words sent a chill down her spine. The Xuan’s sheer size nearly filled the double doorway as he ducked to enter, his presence suddenly feeling dreadful and imposing.

“I am here to demonstrate my magnanimity… and yours.”

“Mine?” She guided them toward the seats. The hired servants quickly prepared refreshments while carefully avoiding the Xuan, who simply projected a massive chair for his own use.

“Yes. It has come to my attention that you are currently sheltering the strategist who plotted my demise. Do not worry, I am not here to kill him. There is something I wish to offer him. Since he is under your care, I thought it proper to ask your permission first, and then his.”

“Of course, while I sponsor Zhaoge, the final decision ultimately rests with him,” Gu Linghua replied, taking a more assertive stance. She had no intention of allowing one of her people to be taken away so easily.

“You should already know that in less than a week, a certain tournament will begin.”

“Of course. I am also here on behalf of my family to recruit young talents,” she answered, feeling somewhat calmer now that the conversation had returned to familiar ground. There were still a few male leads scheduled to participate in this tournament, after all.

“Ah. There you are.”

All eyes shifted behind her. She did not need to look to know who had entered.

“I’ve been looking for you. I have something that only you can do,” the Xuan said, addressing Zhaoge directly.

Gu Linghua sensed a faint uncertainty from Zhaoge. She dispelled it with a small nod, granting him the freedom to decide for himself.

“Would you be interested in serving as an examiner for the upcoming Young Dragon and Phoenix Tournament?”

~ Valarion