Tonight had been a purely puzzle-solving affair.
As long as Ji Li did not alter the current arrangement, there had been no obvious threat of death. But what came next was uncertain.
Because he was about to start breaking the original rules.
That severed head still lay on its side beneath the steps of the East Wing Room. It no longer provided any voice-over, merely rolling its eyes and gasping heavily, as though it could faint at any moment.
Though the head had served as the collective brain behind tonight's rules, once the rules had taken shape, its continued existence no longer seemed important.
Ji Li walked on tiptoe toward the funeral procession. As he gradually drew nearer, the distance between him and the first group of banner bearers became exceptionally close.
At this distance, he could see that the White-robed figures had stiff, gray faces, like corpses long dead, mechanically carrying out their duties.
His gaze followed the fluttering white banners to the memorial portrait.
There seemed to be nothing remarkable about the photograph. It was simply an ordinary front-facing portrait; when it had been taken did not matter.
But Ji Li wanted to know what would happen if he destroyed it.
The suspicious part of the memorial portrait was that, although it existed, it currently served no practical purpose, as though it were merely symbolic.
But things could not possibly be that simple.
If Ji Li wanted to break the cycle, the first thing he needed to do was challenge the rules.
For example, if he destroyed the memorial portrait before him... would it trigger some unknown change?
Naturally, that change might be catastrophic. But if nothing changed, it would be difficult to find a breakthrough in the already-formed rules.
The White-robed figure carrying the memorial portrait was