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Lin Sanjiu didn’t know how she had endured another two days. Since the field-fallowing plan started three days ago, every day was the same. She would wake up at 4:50 AM and lie weak, hungry, and dizzy before mustering the energy to get up and eat a food ball.
By 5 AM, all four farmers would begin plowing the fields, working non-stop until 10 AM. Then, they could take another food ball and nap while Louisa inspected and fixed the farming tools. Thus, their day was divided into three segments: work for five continuous hours and rest for an hour. Lin Sanjiu felt that these brief rests, rather than rejuvenating her, made the upcoming work seem even longer and tougher — not to mention that to let the grand prize rest a little longer, she would work an extra hour at night.
By 9 PM, when the day’s work ended, she would often be so exhausted that she couldn’t think straight. Once, she even mistakenly thought Han Suiping was still alive—only to snap back to reality upon seeing the covered body in the corner.
A worker and a tax collector had a much easier life than farmers. While the worker still had several hours of work daily, the tax collector only needed to make a single trip daily, taking less than an hour. Apart from Horst occasionally mumbling, “I wish I’d chosen to be a tax collector,” the room was mostly filled with Louisa and Jian Sheng’s inaudible murmurs. After all, even speaking was an effort for the farmers.
The biggest solace was the increasing number of food balls beside Silvan. They were neatly packed in paper and stacked in orderly piles on the ground. Whenever Lin Sanjiu felt she was reaching her limit, she would glance at them. The more food balls there were, the closer she was to the end of the grand prize’s plan. Regardless of the grand prize’s true intent, the hard days would soon end.
On the morning of the fifth day of the field-fallowing plan, Louisa suddenly raised her voice and called out to Silvan, who was far across the room.
“You only eat three food balls a day. That can’t be enough, can it?” She sat next to Jian Sheng by the field, a distance away from Han Suiping. “We’re barely managing with four a day. Given that your role is the most crucial, shouldn’t you be eating more?”
‘How is his role the most crucial?’
Lin Sanjiu thought. She was too exhausted and occupied by the plowing before her eyes to dwell on it. If it was crucial, so be it.
Nearby, Ji Shanqing paused, drawing her attention as well.
Silvan was leaning against the wall, having not moved for quite some time. Even though she couldn’t see his face clearly, Lin Sanjiu could sense that his energy and strength had greatly diminished. This was the first time she had seen Silvan appear so pale and vulnerable.
Upon hearing Louisa’s question, he paused for several seconds before finally speaking up.
“No… no need,” he said. His smoky voice now sounded even huskier and somber, as if it would crumble into dust and blow away with the slightest breeze.
“But with only three food balls, isn’t even talking a struggle?” Jian Sheng asked.
Silvan seemed about to shake his head but remained motionless. “I’m fine… don’t worry about me,” he murmured, his eyes cast downward. “We just have to hold on for another two or three days, and then it will all be over.”
Both nodded, exchanging a glance.
“Well… if you’re sure there’s no problem…” Louisa began, clutching the corner of her garment tightly. “Would you mind addressing the words on the wall?”
What words?
Lin Sanjiu realized she’d been so focused on farming that she hadn’t looked up in a long time. It seemed she wasn’t the only one. When the grand prize looked up, he took a sharp breath upon seeing the text on the wall.
A new message had appeared in the Anonymous Thoughts Zone, which had been quiet for several days.
“How can he survive on just three food balls? He’s not a vegetable. Lying there motionless is one thing, but he still has to work and talk. Without a fourth food ball, how can he manage?”
Silvan’s effort to turn and look up was both slow and strained. He stared silently at the wall for a long moment; only his blond hair was visible to them. A tense silence filled the air.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he finally asked, his chuckle soft yet dry. “Does someone think I secretly ate another ball?”
Lin Sanjiu’s first thought was of Louisa, who raised the question. But at a second glance, except for her and Ji Shanqing, the other two farmers didn’t seem too shocked upon seeing this thought. Had they seen it earlier? Or was this thought theirs?
“People can overthink when stressed and tired,” Jian Sheng said, trying to mediate. “You might as well clear things up and ease their minds.”
“How can he clear it up?” Lin Sanjiu snapped. She had always had a calm personality, but these few days, she felt as if there was a sense of hostility piercing her like a needle from time to time. “He’s always been stronger than the rest of us. How do you explain that?”
Jian Sheng glanced at her, evidently a little irritated. “With all that energy, why don’t you focus on plowing? If there’s a concern, we should discuss it instead of keeping it bottled up inside.”
“There’s no reason to argue,” Ji Shanqing cut in, jumping to his sister’s defense without hesitation. “Do you think this is a concern? We know exactly how many food balls we saved each day. If you suspect Silvan secretly took one, go count them yourself.”
Perhaps even he was worn out by the environment, for he couldn’t help but add, “After all, you seem to have the most free time.”
Jian Sheng’s expression darkened, his forehead reddening. “It’s not that I distrust Silvan, but one of us seems to. I’m just trying to clear the air. Instead of showing me your loyalty, help find out whose thought it was and let them do the counting.”
“No need,” Silvan said coldly, silencing them. Once everyone quieted, he slowly stood up with the support of the wall and bent over to take a food ball from the pile. “Don’t search for the person. I’ll lay out the food balls. You can count them from where you are across the room.”
It was a pointless drain on his energy. Watching his slow and lethargic movements, Lin Sanjiu felt so anxious that she wished she could find the thought’s owner and shout at them.
As Silvan placed each ball, Louisa counted aloud. Once all the food balls had been counted, the total number matched what they had stored over the past few days: sixty-four.
“We’ve wasted half a day,” Lin Sanjiu said with a stern face. “Now that the problem is solved, let’s get back to work.”
“Yes, they’re all accounted for,” Jian Sheng said.
Ji Shanqing glanced back at him, silent.
Wasn’t the correct number enough? What else was there left to say? Lin Sanjiu, feeling increasingly impatient, picked up her farming tools again. Nu Yue and Horst followed suit, picking up their tools as well. The phrase “they’re all accounted for” seemed to linger in the air long after it was spoken.
“Sis,” Ji Shanqing whispered, “can you talk to them about something? Preferably something to divert their attention.”
Lin Sanjiu frowned, asking, “Why? What happened?”
He sighed. “Never mind. Distracting them temporarily won’t help. What’s bound to come will eventually come.”
She became even more confused. “What’s coming?”
“Hypothetically, if Silvan wanted to consume some of the food balls, there’s another way he could,” Ji Shanqing said. Before he could explain, someone suddenly exclaimed.
“Look!”
Lin Sanjiu followed everyone’s gaze and saw an update in the Anonymous Thoughts Zone.
“Although they’re all accounted for, what if he just nibbled a bit from each ball? We wouldn’t know by just counting.”
Silvan lifted his gaze, his deep, cold green hues flashing. “Is this case still not closed?”
Everyone involuntarily shrank back.
“We all trust you,” Nu Yue said, her voice raspy from not speaking for a while. “You don’t need to worry about whose malicious thought that was.”
The group exchanged glances, and for a moment, no one voiced any disagreement.
As the atmosphere turned awkward, the wall’s text changed again. This time, it wasn’t a message in the Anonymous Thoughts Zone. Instead, next to the date and timer, a new line appeared: “Attention, if someone in this room displays negligence or selfish motives related to their duty, they will be stripped of their position as punishment.”
Lin Sanjiu clutched the grand prize’s hand, steadying herself against sudden dizziness.
What did this mean? Clearly, this was directed at Silvan. Taking away the farmer’s duty wasn’t much of a punishment.
The group looked at each other, and then the room was filled with murmured conversations.
“Even the room is giving us a hint now!” Louisa exclaimed. “Maybe it’s telling us to resolve this.”
“If he loses his position, who’ll take over as the inspector?” Horst asked, glancing at Jian Sheng. “Do we promote someone or bring someone new in?”
Silvan sat quietly on the ground, observing the animated discussion around him.
“Sure, three food balls a day seems unlikely, but Silvan is different from the rest of us,” Nu Yue said, jumping to his defense. “I don’t know why anyone would suspect him.”
As if in response to their conversation, the text on the wall updated: “Those stripped of their duties will become idle unemployed. Occupations cannot be changed; those willing to make greater sacrifices and assume an additional duty may register as candidates. All employed individuals will vote on the appointment.”
“Now we definitely need to inspect the food balls,” Jian Sheng said. He coughed and lowered his head. “If bits of the balls are missing, the weight will be off. You might not notice, but I can measure them accurately with my tax collector tools.”
Avoiding Silvan’s gaze, he swept his eyes over the group.
“S-So,” Jian Sheng said, “if everyone agrees… should I go and measure their weight?”