The blackboard looked exceptionally old, seemingly one of those discarded decades ago, with splinters visible on the edges.

On it, several lines were scrawled haphazardly in chalk.

Due to the dim light, one had to get very close to make them out, and the fatty's large face was practically pressed against the glass.

If an unsuspecting person were to glance out from inside, the scene would be quite horrifying.

"Who wrote these two lines?" the fatty complained in a low voice. "They're too hard to read."

With his overactive imagination, the fatty was terrified that a ghost face would suddenly appear from the other side of the glass.

Huai Yi, hunching over, peered at the blackboard through the glass in the same ungainly posture. "I say, Brother Fugui, what's wrong with your eyes? There are clearly four lines up there."

The fatty widened his eyes and glared at Huai Yi in dissatisfaction. "Are you kidding me? Can't I tell the difference between two and four?"

As he said this, a gust of cold wind blew through, and everyone seemed to realize something, their faces instantly changing.

Gao Yan, Wang Qi, and Shen Mengyun all looked away and turned to face each other.

The atmosphere became eerie.

After a moment, Shen Mengyun was the first to speak. "I see three lines."

"I see five," Gao Yan said in a muffled voice, his face so gloomy it could drip water, unsure if he was associating it with something bad.

Wang Qi glanced at the blackboard again and said in a low voice, "I see eleven lines."

"Eleven lines..."

Everyone couldn't help but cast wary glances at Wang Qi. It seemed that everyone saw a different number of lines.

This didn't seem like a limitation of the task rules, but rather... a problem with themselves.

Gao Yan thought of a very fitting word.

Aptitude...

Each person's aptitude was different, so the number of words they could see on the blackboard was also different.

That fatty's aptitude was the worst, or rather, he was the dumbest, so he could only see two lines.

Shen Mengyun was a little stronger than him, but not as good as that guy named Huai Yi, who could see three lines.

Huai Yi saw four lines.

He saw five lines.

Gao Yan shifted his gaze, looking at Wang Qi's face. The longer he looked, the more unfamiliar it seemed, as if he had never truly understood this person.

Wang Qi was stronger than him, which Gao Yan wasn't surprised by, judging by his performance.

There was never a shortage of mavericks in missions, but there weren't many who could survive with all their limbs intact after being a maverick.

Wang Qi was clearly a tricky character.

But Gao Yan didn't expect Wang Qi to be able to see as many as eleven lines.

It seemed he had underestimated this guy.

Many thoughts flashed through his mind, but in reality, it was only a brief moment. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly realized that one person was missing.

That guy named Jiang Cheng hadn't spoken yet.

Turning his head, he saw Jiang Cheng's forehead pressed against the glass door, his eyes fixed on the blackboard, constantly nodding.

"Brother Jiang," Gao Yan urged with some impatience, "how many lines do you see?"

Hearing this, everyone looked at Jiang Cheng.

But after maintaining his gaze on the blackboard for another ten seconds, Jiang Cheng slowly turned his head, his mouth slightly open, and looked at everyone with a somewhat embarrassed expression. "Four..."

As soon as this number came out, a great weight lifted from Gao Yan's heart. It seemed that the other party was about the same level as Huai Yi.

Even if they really came to blows in the end, he was confident he could deal with him.

"Forty-seven lines," Jiang Cheng said.

Gao Yan: "???"

"You..." Shen Mengyun's face changed upon hearing this. After a long while, she asked again, "Mr. Jiang, are you sure you counted correctly?"

"I don't think so," Jiang Cheng said shyly. "Although the words are quite dense, I counted three times in total, so I shouldn't be wrong."

Hearing this result, the scene became interesting.

Wang Qi sized up Jiang Cheng with great interest, as if he wanted to dissect him bit by bit and then analyze him.

Shen Mengyun, on the other hand, seemed to have not yet recovered from the shock just now.

Gao Yan had the strangest expression, sometimes pale, sometimes gray. He secretly sized up Jiang Cheng with a strange look, suspecting that he was putting on an act.

But... if it was an act, it would definitely be better to be as realistic as possible in order to confuse people. Was this guy serious about seeing forty-seven lines?

What kind of aptitude would allow someone to see forty-seven lines?

Ten times stronger than himself?

Compared to them, Huai Yi and the fatty seemed much calmer. Huai Yi was thinking that he deserved to be called Third Brother Shenhong; in a word, awesome! (牛逼! - niu bi!)

As for the fatty only seeing two lines, Huai Yi also had his own thoughts. He guessed that this should be a tacit understanding between the Shenhong.

Brother Jiang and Brother Fugui, one in the open and one in the dark. Huai Yi swallowed and felt that this game was stable as hell.

As for what the fatty was thinking, it was that the doctor was full of bad ideas, insidious, cunning, and unparalleled, with the added bonus of being a congenital orphan, a person who was ruthless enough to deceive even ghosts.

It was actually understandable that he could see forty-seven lines.

"Brother Jiang," Gao Yan stared at him, saying with a forced smile, "You're the one who sees the most among us. Tell us, what did you see?"

Jiang Cheng hesitated for a moment, recalling, "What I saw was like a story, but it felt incomplete."

Huai Yi frowned, following Jiang Cheng's words to analyze, "Do you think it could be that the words we see are all different, but when put together, they form a complete story?"

The fatty stroked his chin, squinted his eyes, and put on a profound look. "You have a point. Didn't Yuan Xiaoyi tell us to pay attention to the front of the library?"

"She was referring to this old blackboard."

So everyone decided that the fatty, who saw the least, would speak first, and then everyone would take turns in order.

After gathering his emotions, the fatty slowly opened his mouth and said, "Long ago, in a faraway land."

After waiting for ten seconds, everyone still didn't hear him continue. Huai Yi blinked and looked at him, asking in confusion, "What's next?"

"There's nothing next," the fatty scratched his head and said a little embarrassedly in a low voice, "I only saw two sentences. The first sentence was 'Long ago,' and the second sentence was 'In a faraway land.'"

Wang Qi's lips curled up. "Interesting." After saying that, he turned to look at Shen Mengyun, the meaning in his eyes was self-evident.

Sure enough.

After Shen Mengyun opened her mouth, the words she said perfectly connected with the fatty's.

...

Everyone took turns in order, and with Jiang Cheng's final narration, a story slowly unfolded before everyone's eyes.

The story was set abroad and had a medieval dark style.

It was about a castle on a fertile land.

Inside the castle lived a lord.

The lord was cruel and extremely greedy, and the people in his territory lived in misery.

Until one day, three people came to the castle.

They claimed that each of them had a treasure to offer to the lord.