White Honey

The Last of the First

Things are starting to get very interesting. I had never thought instead of serving my autumn in Beijing court I would be here toyed like a guinea pig. Hmph, though it is no surprise I stand unscathed while each of every of these inferior apes lie already at deaths door. The beginning always reflects the ending.

"Who." I drove my eyes to the pathetic sphinx as it oozes out another idiotic question. Which none line up or have any whatsoever connection to one another. Well let's play along more and see what fates holds for the pitiful creature slowly being crushed by the walls of the barrier. Poor things claustrophobic, too.

"Who is the author of Red Sorghum?" Interesting choice of question, I had already read it. Fools, this is a sure win for I.

"I've only ever heard of it never read." Jean, or as I prefer to call her Shazi since she's proven to be the most incompetent thus far—she didn't even look back as she said it, her eyes were on Anna, the Time girl, who had collapsed earlier. Poor thing has only one chance if it is gotten wrong then she'll be crushed into a paste. And she doesn't even realize she will be one within the next twenty seconds.

"What's the matter?" I turn to Shazi, "Aren't you going to ask me for help anymore?"

She froze, "you know the answer?" A foolish question from a foolish person. Obviously I do, does she act stupid or was she born with half a brain?

"Yes. It is a Xungen novel, 1955."

Hold on, this was written by the author Mu Yan however that is his pen name. His real name is Guan Moye, there is a fifty percent chance that this is incorrect. If it is erred, it will be I who suffers. I glance at Shazi. Seeing as how a single electric shock was enough to leave burn marks by her nape then it means I could die. This system is a cruel one, toying with lives, it has no heart and therefore I must not take any stupid risks. I have no obligation to put my life on the line for another.

This does label me as a coward and by all means selfish. Something that man had and I'd rather die than inherit anything from him.

"What's wrong? There is ten seconds left, do you really know the answer?" Monkey sprints to me, keeping her fat clammy hands off me. One more inch and I would have had to shove her like the pathetic person she is.

"There is a problem. The author goes by two names and I am not one to stake my life for it."

"What?" I wish I can slap that aghast look but I am a civilized individual and I must understand she is but simply stupid.

"Tell me then. I'll say the first name, if it was wrong you can say the correct one."

"That's absurd. How—" No wait, thinking about it again this could work. And this by all means does not imply I am not acknowledging her. I rather wage her over myself, since it is her idea I feel no guilt.

"We don't have much time, please hurry." Shizu pleads.

Since she is first to beg it leaves me with no choice, "His author name is Mo Yan. His real name is Guan Moye." The girl didn't even wait for me to complete my sentence and blurted out the first name. I'll give her a little credit for not hesitating to state his name and by doing so saved another life. However, her naivety will be her downfall and in this case her torment.

"Guan Moye." The answer, to no surprise was correct and the barrier slides releasing the time girl from its death crush. Anna laid slumped on the cold slate, still unconscious. The rest of them, save for the foolish Shazi, were out cold. What a tiring day.

"Well," I muttered, feigning disinterest. "How very dramatic. They should award her a prize for acting." It was an amusing distraction, watching their little melodrama unfold. They'd gotten lucky this time, but luck had a way of running out.