My Amazing WeChat is Connected to the Three Realms - Chapter 82

Lin Hai smiled faintly, his face showing not a trace of panic.

“Senior Chess Saint, your reputation is well-deserved. I am truly in awe!”

The Chess Saint curled his lips, a smug expression on his face.

“A mere endgame puzzle could never stump this old man. Now that the puzzle is solved, your trial is considered a failure. The heavenly lightning will punish you, saving me the trouble of dealing with you myself.”

“Trial failed?” Lin Hai shook his head with a laugh. “Senior, could you be mistaken?”

“Mistaken? How so? The puzzle is clearly solved. Young man, don’t you dare try to weasel your way out of this in front of me.” A sharp glint flashed in the Chess Saint’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t dare, Senior. The puzzle is indeed solved, but—how long was our agreed-upon time limit for solving it?” Lin Hai met the Chess Saint’s gaze squarely.

“Time limit? That…”

Only then did the Chess Saint remember. Earlier, he and Lin Hai had agreed on a ten-minute limit to solve the puzzle. But once he had immersed himself in the game, he had lost all sense of time. By the time he cracked it, over twenty minutes had passed.

“Senior Chess Saint, a person of your stature surely wouldn’t go back on your word with a junior, would you?” Lin Hai deliberately emphasized the words “go back on your word.”

“Hmph! Do you take me for some petty swindler? Fine, you pass this trial!” The Chess Saint, fuming, turned away.

Yes! Another damn trial cleared!

Lin Hai was overjoyed.

“In that case, this junior thanks Senior Chess Saint!” Lin Hai clasped his hands and bowed.

“Hmph!” The Chess Saint didn’t even glance at him, merely waving a hand dismissively.

“Xian’er, let’s go—next trial!” Lin Hai cheerfully called out to Xian’er as they headed to the next challenge.

Watching Lin Hai’s retreating figure, the Chess Saint sighed softly. In all his years devoted to chess, he had never once been bested—yet today, this young man had outmaneuvered him.

“I hope you survive the Sacred Realm… but that third trial… sigh.”

“Haha, Xian’er, what do you think? Is your master impressive or what?” Having cleared two trials in a row, Lin Hai was in high spirits and couldn’t resist showing off a little.

But Xian’er seemed somewhat downcast.

“Huh? Xian’er, what’s wrong?” Lin Hai asked, puzzled.

“Master, since the Sacred Realm first opened, only two people have ever cleared two trials in a row. Both were geniuses of unparalleled talent, unmatched throughout history. You are the third.”

Holy shit! I’m that badass?

Lin Hai’s heart swelled with pride.

“But…” Xian’er hesitated.

“But what?” Lin Hai blinked.

“But no one has ever passed the third trial.”

Thud!

Lin Hai nearly face-planted.

“W-w-what? You’re saying the other two both failed at the third trial?” Lin Hai tensed up immediately.

“Yes. Both failed at the third trial and were struck down by divine lightning, their bodies and souls utterly annihilated.”

God-freaking-dammit!

Now Lin Hai was frantic.

“Xian’er, tell me everything about this third trial!” he urged.

“The guardian of the third trial is Senior Book Immortal. He’s… particularly concerned about face.”

“Concerned about face?” Lin Hai didn’t get it.

“Yes, extremely so.” Xian’er’s expression turned odd.

“Can you be more specific?”

“Actually, his trials are never very hard—sometimes even laughably simple. It’s just…”

“Just what? Spit it out!” Lin Hai was getting impatient.

“It’s just that if you fail, death is inevitable.”

“Naturally,” Lin Hai nodded.

“But if you win…”

“What happens if I win?”

“He’ll feel humiliated.”

Pfft! What a freaking weirdo!

“And then?” Lin Hai pressed.

“Once he feels humiliated, he’ll refuse to acknowledge your victory and declare your trial a failure.”

Pfft!

You’ve gotta be kidding me!

Lin Hai almost collapsed on the spot.

How the hell is anyone supposed to play this game?

So whether you win or lose, it’s still a failure?

Damn it, this so-called Book Immortal is nothing but a shameless rogue!

What am I supposed to do now?

Lin Hai’s spirits plummeted.

“Master, we don’t have much time left for the trial. We should hurry,” Xian’er said softly.

This is such bullshit!

To Lin Hai, Xian’er’s words sounded eerily like she was rushing him to his doom.

Was he really going to die here?

Numbly following Xian’er, Lin Hai felt a surge of defiance.

Screw this! My fate is mine to command!

I refuse to believe I can’t clear this damn third trial!

After walking another thousand meters or so, they arrived at a secluded courtyard, alive with the songs of birds and the fragrance of flowers—a place brimming with vitality.

Yet Lin Hai’s heart only grew heavier.

Could such a vibrant place really become his grave?

He looked into the courtyard.

A pale-faced scholar was bent over a long table, brush in hand, writing with effortless grace.

“Senior Book Immortal, the new master has arrived for his trial,” Xian’er announced softly.

“Stop yapping! Do you want me to fail him right now?”

Damn it! Lin Hai’s face darkened.

Seriously? I haven’t even said a word yet, and he’s already threatening to fail me?

Then it hit him—this Book Immortal was obsessed with saving face, right?

Maybe if he played to that ego, there’d still be a chance.

With that in mind, Lin Hai stepped forward.

“Fail me? If anyone else said that, I’d kick their balls into next week!”

Xian’er gasped, her face flushing red.

This new master—why did he have to be so vulgar?

“Hm?” The Book Immortal’s brush paused mid-stroke as he abruptly looked up.

“But,” Lin Hai quickly added, “if those words came from Senior Book Immortal himself, I wouldn’t dare disbelieve them even if I had a hundred extra guts!”

“Oh? And why is that?” The Book Immortal, who had been ready to explode in anger, was now intrigued.

“Well, this junior has dabbled in physiognomy. Judging by Senior’s appearance—your broad forehead, sharp brows, and bright eyes, your dignified aura tinged with decisiveness—you are clearly a man of your word, a true gentleman who stands by what he says!”

Lin Hai piled on every flattering phrase he could think of.

If this guy loved face so much, he’d smother him in compliments.

“Heh, a gentleman, am I?” The Book Immortal couldn’t help but laugh at Lin Hai’s words.

“Ah, crap!” The Book Immortal suddenly looked down and realized that, distracted by Lin Hai’s chatter, a drop of ink had fallen from his brush onto the paper.

“Damn it! I spent all morning on this, and now it’s ruined! This is all your fault!” The Book Immortal glared at Lin Hai, furious.

Oh shit, this is bad! Lin Hai’s heart sank.

He glanced at the paper on the table. The Book Immortal had been writing the phrase “Iron Will, Loyal Heart.”

But the final dot of the character for “heart” was missing—and now, a blot of ink had landed right beside it.

An entire morning’s work, ruined at the very last stroke.

The Book Immortal was livid, practically ready to tear Lin Hai apart.

“Damn it, I declare your trial a fai—”

Lin Hai’s heart leaped into his throat.

“Senior Book Immortal, wait!” he interrupted hastily.

Damn it, what now? Was he really going to die here?

“Hmph! You ruined my masterpiece. Nothing you say matters now. Your trial is a fa—”

“Ah!” Lin Hai suddenly gasped in exaggerated shock and strode toward the table.