Chapter Ninety-Four: A Contest, A Wager

“I do not know what wager you speak of, Master. Pray explain it, and I shall listen with all my heart.”

Cold Remembrance seemed deeply interested in this bet. Rare expectation shone in his eyes. His expression was like that of someone who, in the darkness, had suddenly glimpsed the first light of dawn—joyed beyond measure, yet finding it all so unbelievable. For a man so detached to feel such emotion was truly astounding.

No one could quite believe that a mere wager could draw such attention from Cold Remembrance and stir long-forgotten excitement in him. Could it be that he truly had some condition he wanted the old man to agree to? What was equally incomprehensible was how someone like him, so free of desire, could still possess something capable of making him act so unlike himself. Could it be tied to love? Yet that seemed impossible. He had been the one to let go in the first place; he would not be pursuing it only now.

Besides, he understood what consequences the academy would face if the one he loved were taken away. He could not bear to let the place that had raised and nurtured him be destroyed because of him. And yet, beyond that person he loved, no one could understand what else might have awakened his possessiveness and clouded the mind that had always been so thoughtful. Everyone knew full well what sort of man this old fellow was; how could they possibly trust him so easily?

“Senior Brother, are you telling the truth? You must not lie to me. Truly, whatever condition it is, you would agree to it—even if it were something you once strongly opposed?” Xun Mifrost asked cautiously, afraid the old man would change his mind halfway through. It seemed she, like the one she loved, had something she longed to claim at all costs, and it was something only the old dean himself could grant.

No need to think too hard to know what Xun Mifrost wanted: she simply wished for the academy to let her go, so she and Cold Remembrance could be together forever, never parted again. She truly did not want to lose the one she loved a second time, but she knew it was impossible to have Cold Remembrance take her away of his own accord. So long as she won this wager and made her senior brother agree to her condition, then even if Cold Remembrance did not want it, he would have no choice.

It seemed this old fellow truly was no ordinary man. He had already read their minds through and through; he knew exactly what everyone wanted, which meant this wager was one they had no choice but to accept. Yet none of them knew what he wanted, only that this old man never did anything that was not to his own advantage. On the surface, it seemed as though they would all get something out of it, but in truth the one who would profit was him.

“Actually, this wager is very simple. We only need to bet on whether Feather Wound or Little Hidden will be the ultimate loser or winner,” the old dean said with utter ease, then turned again toward the two standing at the center of the treasury. For some reason, the old dean seemed especially concerned with the outcome of their contest. Ever since Little Hidden had revealed his true form, the old fellow’s gaze had never once left that area, as though afraid of missing some marvelous spectacle.

“May I ask, Master, whether you have laid down any rules for this wager?” Blue Frost Strings asked slowly. It seemed he, too, was quite interested in it. In truth, his curiosity came entirely from concern for the woman he loved; he only wished to win and make his master treat Dream Faraway a little better, to let him see how deeply Dream Faraway cared for that grandfather.

He knew the bitterness of distance, and he understood the master’s hardship. Still, he hoped the two people he cared about most could remain together and get along peacefully. He wanted to see them happy, no longer suffering, no longer tormenting themselves. In truth, everyone knew those two cared for one another; they simply could not bring themselves to express their true feelings because of certain reasons. So let him help them cross this chasm.

“There are no rules whatsoever. Follow your hearts’ desire. Even if each of you gives a different answer, I would not mind,” the old dean said lightly. Everyone was utterly puzzled. Why did this old fellow seem like a different person today? He was making a wager that clearly left him at a disadvantage and others at an advantage. Had something unclean possessed him that made him so strange?

If not, then this wager must hide a great trap, one into which they would all tumble if they were not careful, never to escape disaster. It seemed the old fellow intended to scheme against them again; better remain cautious. Still, the condition he had offered was truly tempting. At least several of them had already begun to bite, and at this rate the rest would sooner or later walk willingly into the snare and be at his mercy.

“You mean if each of us gives a different answer, that is acceptable? Then would you not lose terribly? Yet you would still agree to such a losing bargain, Dean? You have not been hit by anything wicked, have you?” Snow Ruins teased from the side with a sly smile. It seemed she, too, did not quite believe a single word the old fellow said. But that was hardly surprising; after all, they had fallen into his hands more than once or twice. A little caution was only sensible.

Otherwise, one day even they might end up paying the price themselves, and then they would truly be the ones who lost big. Besides, they still owed this old fellow a promise. If he were to throw some difficult task at them later, and on top of that they had lost to him this time, it would be adding frost upon snow. No matter what, it was better to keep a little distance from him. The dark aura of conspiracy around him was truly unsettling.

“In my view, he hasn’t been struck by anything at all. He’s simply been plotting some scheme all along. If he doesn’t gain some advantage from us every day, he’ll be miserable to death!” said Misty Mist, who had been frozen stiff in place from fear until now. At last she came to her senses and spoke with open disdain toward the old dean. She would never believe this old fellow could turn good in the blink of an eye.

She always felt that even if she herself became a venomous beauty living in daily company with poison, this old fellow still would not become a righteous, unbiased benefactor thinking only of others. If he ever changed his nature, then even the sun and moon would reverse, and the mountains and rivers would run backward. And yet, why did she see brilliance in the eyes of the others? It seemed they truly had been drawn in by the old fellow’s seemingly tempting wager. How dangerous this was.

“What if both sides guess wrong? The chances of those two ending in a draw are quite high. If such a situation truly arises, then what should we do?” Dream Faraway said softly, looking at the old dean who had clearly planned to squeeze them dry, yet could not be called entirely evil. Even she could not read what her grandfather was thinking this time. Was this a trap to lure them into the game, or merely an ordinary wager?

This time she truly did not dare judge rashly. If it had been any other day, she would have thought it a scheme without a second thought. But now her grandfather’s face, faintly kind and sincere, had left her uncertain. It seemed she would have to take one step at a time and guess his true intention from there. Still, to be honest, for a moment she had almost been mesmerized by her grandfather’s gaze and did not know what to do. She had nearly agreed to this perilous wager.

For an instant, she truly wanted to follow that burst of impulse and agree to her grandfather. She wanted to win this wager; she wanted him to be a little kinder to her. Yet as soon as Dream Faraway reconsidered, she came to her senses. What meaning was there in love coerced by force? It would be better to remain as things were now: an occasional word spoken, no great conflict, no deep aversion, only this faint, quiet companionship with her grandfather until the day she left this place.

“I rather do not believe they will end in a draw and let this matter simply fade away. Judging by those two boys’ temperaments, they would rather fight until one wins and the other yields than stop without a result. How could they let an unresolved contest drag on? Still, if they truly do end in a draw, you need not worry that I will extort anything from you for it. I will also withdraw the condition I asked you to agree to before. Then we will owe each other nothing, and no debts will remain between us. Would you call that fair?” the old dean said with the same gentle expression and unhurried patience. What on earth was he plotting?

Why was everything he did today so abnormal? What exactly did he want, and what result was he seeking? All of this left those present utterly baffled. It seemed this contest involved far more than they had imagined, and far more people than before. Yet none of them worried too much, because at the very least they would be together no matter what, and none of them would be abandoned.

“Ah... I’m getting impatient just listening to all this. Isn’t it just a little wager? So what if we lose? Why must you all hesitate and fret so much? Just agree to it and let us focus on the contest!” Little Hidden said anxiously. Someone with his quick temper could least endure other people dragging their feet. Seeing them hesitate like that only made him angry.

“Old fellow, how about I make a bet with you first? I wager the one who will ultimately triumph is me, and that brat is destined to be my defeated hand!” If he had said such a thing on an ordinary day, the others would surely have laughed at him without mercy for overestimating himself. But now, after hearing those words from Little Hidden, none of them thought it was mere boasting. Instead, they felt it might very well come true.

Before the Crimson Serpent Spirit, all things would submit. None dared easily defy his will, for fear that once that terrifying serpent spirit roused its power, they would all die without a place to be buried. But then again, Feather Wound was no weakling either. More than that, he was already accustomed to Little Hidden’s true form and would not feel the slightest fear toward him. So this battle would be a splendid one indeed, at the very least enough to keep everyone talking for a good while.

“Good. I like the spirit of your little snake. Then let us add you to the wager as well!” After hearing Little Hidden’s disrespectful address, the old dean showed not the least bit of anger and instead agreed readily. It was truly a rare sight. To think this old fellow could be so patient and not flare up at him—this time, even the dean seemed to favor Little Hidden.

“Since even your little snake has agreed, if I were to keep refusing, would that not make it seem as though I feared you? Then, Dean, I shall wager with you as well. I bet I will beat him so badly it will be pitiful to behold—a miserable state so disgraceful he would have no face to show himself in public!” Feather Wound said with a wicked smile toward Little Hidden. It seemed he truly regarded Little Hidden as his opponent this time, down to the words they exchanged, neither yielding an inch.

“You two naughty boys are much more straightforward. Unlike them, dithering and refusing to give an answer!” The old dean seemed deliberately trying to rouse everyone’s temper, hoping they would agree in a moment of impulse. Yet even if he said nothing, they had no reason not to accept the wager. Even the people involved were willing to stake themselves on it; if the rest kept refusing, that would be far too lacking in tact. More importantly, several among them had long been waiting for this day, so this wager was one they simply had to accept—even if they knew they were being played, they would take it anyway.