The lawyer speculated, "Could it be that someone climbed through the window? But outside is a cliff!"
Yan Su walked over from the window, his face grim. "The window is locked from the inside. It's impossible to climb through!"
The actress, who had just come out of the shower, was still wrapped in a towel, which was tied rather low, making her chest round and damp. It was unclear who she was trying to entice. Several men in the room couldn't help but glance at her, captivated by the enticing curves beneath the thin towel.
Feigning shyness, she touched her face. "I was worried when I heard the scream, so I rushed out without even having time to change."
The women remained indifferent, while the men were rather lenient.
After she spoke, the actress turned her body in an S-shape toward Yan Su. "What kind of locked-room murder is this? Perhaps the boxer committed suicide!"
Yan Su didn't even look at her and spoke with undisguised disdain for her intelligence. "Please use your brain. The boxer's head was smashed by something very powerful, causing a fatal skull fracture. May I ask where the weapon he used to commit suicide is?"
The actress fell silent, unable to respond. She pulled the towel up a bit, now revealing nothing.
The people around them looked back into the room; the area around the body was completely clean. Aside from the bloodstains near the head, there were no other unusual traces. Not even a hammer or any sharp object could be found.
The host chimed in to support the actress, "The weapon for the boxer's suicide is... his own fists! He..."
"Please do not further expose your intelligence!" Yan Su coldly and swiftly interrupted him, as if just hearing another word would make his ears hurt. "His fists are clean, not a trace of blood!"
The host's face turned red, and he couldn't speak.
Zhen Ai was slightly surprised. Yan Su had maintained a low volume and a steady pace; even his words were calm. Yet she could still detect a deep-seated anger beneath his icy tone.
She understood that he was furious that another person had been killed right under his nose, and it was a locked-room murder at that.
But it wasn't his fault!
How could she comfort him?
The people around were silent, watching Yan Su with both caution and fear, as if finally grasping what it meant to command authority without raising one's voice.
Yan Su ignored everyone, his gaze coolly fixed on the boxer's lifeless body. It was too clean, the scene too immaculate! Not a bit of disorder, a swift, lethal strike. Efficient and quick, it was not an impulsive act!
The killer had attacked the victim head-on, showing great boldness; but who could hit the boxer hard enough to defeat him?
Even more strangely, the victim appeared not to have fought back at all, nor had he even had a chance to struggle.
While he was lost in thought, he heard Zhen Ai calmly speak to the others. "Now do you all agree that the remaining people should stay together in the living room? Not long ago, you all insisted that returning to your rooms and locking the doors was the safest option, but now what? If you hadn't been so stubborn from the start, perhaps someone wouldn't have died!"
Yan Su was taken aback, suddenly realizing that she said all this for him.
His heart warmed suddenly.
"Ai..." he reached out to her, but she was also holding back her own anger, not only for the deceased but also for Yan Su's innate sense of guilt. She felt pained and could not help but bite her lip, saying fiercely, "If anyone still refuses and insists on staying alone in their room, I believe that person is not brave but rather the murderer trying to kill someone!"
Once she said this, no one dared to disagree.
The maid said, "Then let's all change our clothes and head to the living room!"
"Wait!" Zhen Ai said slowly, smiling. "We should first check each room for the weapon that killed the boxer."
The grandfather clock in the living room struck midnight. After a thorough search of the rooms, everyone sat down together in the living room, empty-handed.
The storm outside grew more intense, and the maid brought in some light refreshments, fruit, hot tea, and coffee with milk. The castle felt cold and desolate, so she added some beech wood to the fireplace, pulled the thick curtains shut, and kept the wind, rain, and turbulent sea outside.
Inside the living room, there was a warm atmosphere that resembled the coziness of a harbor in the sea.
Perhaps the warmth and fatigue dispelled everyone's guard; the companions who had only engaged in casual conversation began to chat more earnestly. Unlike their usual banter, they started sharing their life experiences, occasionally adding reflections and insights.
The model and actress talked about the hardships of entering the industry, the preschool teacher recounted the strictness of parents, the writer described the loneliness of writing, the lawyer spoke of the difficulty of maintaining one's conscience, and the host lamented having to cater to others' expectations.
Yan Su listened casually to everyone's stories while lost in his own thoughts.
As for the three murder cases, he was still uncertain whether they were all committed by the same person, but there was a clear commonality among them—everything was orderly at the scene, and the victims had hardly fought back.
Could it be that the murderer used some sort of drug?
Yan Su had not observed any anomalies on the surface of the victims. Without a forensic expert or equipment available, it was impossible to test anything at the moment.
In the case of the doctor, if the boxer who sat beside him spoke the truth, then there were indeed no signs of anything unusual. How had the murderer managed to kill a healthy, conscious doctor in the dark without alarming those around?
The death of the racer was equally peculiar. If the maid was lying and she was the murderer, how could she have subdued the racer without leaving any traces, then tied the living man to the turbo?
If the maid was telling the truth, then one of the people in the group must have known about the racer being on the ship. He must have gone out to kill the racer after returning from the dining room. But why would he deliberately hang a wax figure from the cable to attract others to discover the body?
The case of the boxer was even stranger. The doors and windows had indeed been tightly locked; everyone was outside the room, and the victim had been attacked from the front and fell down. The house was a locked room—how could the murderer and the weapon have vanished into thin air?
Afterward, everyone searched the rooms one by one but found no suspicious items.
What was the connection among these three murder cases?
Why did he still have a bad feeling that more deaths were to come?
In fact, Yan Su had roughly figured out who the police were and who the organization had sent. But these three cases did not seem to fully relate to them, or perhaps he was mistaken somewhere?
Just then, the host, caught up in his storytelling, said something strange: "Hey, did you know? The deceased boxer and the doctor knew each other before."
"Knew each other?" Everyone turned to look at him in unison.
The host loved being the center of attention and instantly regained his most skilled performance mode, explaining mysteriously: "The boxer was somewhat famous in the past, performing well in the ring, but his character offstage was lacking. Before he got married, he indulged in drinking, gambling, and all sorts of vices."
The preschool teacher recalled and added, "I heard that he once drank and drove, killing a college girl."
"But you probably don't know the juicy details." The host took a sip of his cocktail, his cheeks glowing, "He wasn't just drunk driving; he had set his eyes on a beautiful girl at the bar. She was working part-time, not a prostitute, but he forced her. When she threatened to call the police, the boxer panicked and ran her over with his car."
The writer interjected, "What does that have to do with the doctor?"
"The girl wasn't killed in the accident," the host said slowly, adopting a storytelling tone, "She lay in the ICU in a coma for many days, her spine fractured, and her leg had to be amputated. The girl's family was preparing to sue the boxer for $20 million in damages."
The maid was captivated, causing the actress's milk tea to spill over, which she hurriedly wiped up.
This time, the actress didn't mind; instead, she asked the host with great interest, "Let me guess, the boxer had the doctor kill the girl so he wouldn't have to pay as much, right?"
The host, seeing the actress speak, immediately smiled warmly, "The actress is indeed clever."
"So, that girl's attending physician was the doctor among us?" The model curiously sized up the host, doubtful of his words. "But how do you know? Are you just making it up because she's dead?"
The host seemed displeased with the model's skepticism, lost his smile, and spoke seriously, "Those in my line of work are certainly well-informed. I also know that he was indeed guilty of hitting someone, but later he got off the hook by claiming he was drunk driving. Of course, he did pay some money." At this point, the host sighed, "After that incident, he turned over a new leaf, gave up all his bad habits, got married, and became a good husband. But looking at it now, both the doctor and the boxer must have committed some wrongs in the past!"
Once "wrongs" were mentioned, everyone slowly sipped their tea in silence, not saying a word.
Yan Su and Zhen Ai exchanged quiet glances. Was this story true? Could it be related to the deaths of those two? But what about the racer? Why had he died?
The situation seemed to illuminate some aspects while also deepening the fog.
At this moment, the lawyer gently spoke, "Though I don't know what the racer did, could it be that the murderer targets those who have committed wrongs?"
Everyone began to speculate nervously.
The butler, who had been silent for a long time, frowned and spoke seriously, "Even the most evil of men can only be judged by God. Personal retribution in the name of justice is merely self-serving and far from the righteous path. Moreover, as long as a person sincerely repents, God's forgiving heart will embrace and save all sins."
Yan Su and Zhen Ai did not subscribe to religious doctrines and refrained from commenting, but they agreed with some of what the butler said. His righteous words echoed in the living room, slightly stirring the hearts of everyone else present.
The actress, moved, lowered her head. After a long pause, she lifted her gaze to the others. "I, too, have done wrong in the past. Perhaps one of the murderers here knows about it and will come after me next. But I still want to treat all of you here as members of a support group, helping me to repent together.
When I was competing for a movie role, I spread malicious rumors about another actress, severely damaging her career. Later on... I heard that she quietly committed suicide.
Perhaps this is karma; for all these years, I've never become popular and haven't had any memorable works."
Everyone around fell silent, but there were no looks of surprise.
The first to react was the preschool teacher, who held the actress's hand, reassuring her, "As long as you sincerely repent, you will be forgiven." Others nodded in agreement.
Now, facing strangers they would never meet again on their journey, the superficially calm yet psychologically burdened group began to "open" their hearts, but the line between truth and deception blurred.
The model said she had caused a fellow model to fall from the runway, leading to her leaving the industry;
The writer admitted that after reading a friend's draft, he stole his ideas and published them, leading to a fallout with his friend;
The preschool teacher shared that she had once lost control and scolded a child;
The lawyer confessed he had helped a company evade taxes;
The host admitted he had reported false information, leading to online harassment and doxxing of those involved.
Yan Su listened quietly, his heart remaining calm.
At this moment, the preschool teacher looked at Yan Su and asked, "What about you, Mr. Logician? Have you ever done anything wrong?"
Yan Su raised his gaze and replied flatly, "No." The two words came out effortlessly, without a hint of hesitation.
Everyone's expressions became subtle, clearly indicating disbelief.
The actress asked lightly, "Who doesn't have something to repent for? Don't be embarrassed, Mr. Logician. Making mistakes doesn't diminish your charm."
Zhen Ai, who hadn't been paying much attention before, was intrigued by the conversation about Yan Su. She found it strange: "Why don't you believe him? I believe he hasn't done anything wrong."
As soon as she said this, everyone's gaze shifted to Zhen Ai with a more nuanced look, as if sighing, "Ah, the naive little girl, so easily deceived."
Yan Su remained indifferent, saying what he truly believed without caring whether others accepted it. As long as Zhen Ai believed in him, that was enough.
But the actress felt a pang of curiosity, itching to know what this seemingly serious man had done wrong. She flirtatiously bit her lip, leaned on the armrest of the sofa, and said in a sultry voice, "Don't worry, Mr. Logician! Isn't it said that men with scars are more attractive? In fact, women tend to prefer bad boys who have made mistakes."
Zhen Ai frowned, even more confused: "Why would women like bad men? I don't like bad men!"
Yan Su glanced at Zhen Ai, unable to suppress a faint smile. He looked back at the actress, his expression cold:
"Unfortunately, I'm not living to please women.
Moreover, I believe that attraction is a state similar to an idea; people are attracted to their own kind."
As he spoke, he inadvertently tightened his grip on Zhen Ai's hand resting on the sofa.
Zhen Ai wholeheartedly agreed with his views. She turned to him with a bright smile, nodding like a chick pecking at rice.
He liked her, she liked him;
He believed in her goodness, and she believed in his goodness;
That was enough; who cared about the opinions of others?
The actress smiled awkwardly, forcing a laugh as she turned to Zhen Ai: "What about you, Miss Student? Is there anything you want to repent for?"
Zhen Ai shrugged and casually replied, "I don't have…"
The words suddenly got stuck in her throat as the moment her mother died flashed in her mind. Bert whispered in her ear: "Little C hates her mother; deep down, little C actually wants to kill her!"
Her thoughts went blank. Did she really have nothing to repent for?
The actress caught on to the nuance and smiled knowingly, gently asking, "Miss Student, you really don't have anything to say?"
Zhen Ai had already calmed her emotions and replied blandly, "No."
The actress waved her hand, half-jokingly sighing, "Those who don't repent will go to hell!"
Yan Su frowned in displeasure, about to say something, but Zhen Ai laughed freely: "Whether I go to hell or not is irrelevant. And believe me, I've escaped from hell."
Except for Yan Su, no one understood her words, but nobody continued to pry for details since they weren't very familiar with one another.
Yet the actress was not discouraged and looked at them wistfully, suddenly smiling as she asked, "Your relationship is so enviable. Does that mean you both have nothing to hide or repent for from each other?"
This question was rather impolite and intrusive, yet Zhen Ai answered resolutely without hesitation:
"Of course not!"
Upon saying that, she noticed the actress's knowing smile and felt a sudden emptiness in her heart because Yan Su showed no reaction. He slightly loosened his grip on her hand and quietly lowered his eyelids, concealing all emotions.
Although Zhen Ai usually struggled to read people's expressions, she was very familiar with Yan Su and immediately sensed something was off.
Yan Su released her hand and said, "I'm going to the restroom." After that, he got up and left the living room.
Zhen Ai watched his back, feeling dazed.
Could it be that she was overthinking? But he truly seemed a bit off.
---
Yan Su stood in front of the mirror, wiping the water droplets from his hands with a tissue. The water was already dry, but he was lost in thought, repeating the motion over and over.
After a long while, he glanced at the mirror. The man in the thin black coat looked slim and upright, but his complexion was exceptionally cold.
The lower corner of the restroom mirror bore the family crest, featuring thorns and purple rue, with "LanCelot" in the center and a lowercase "C&C" at the bottom.
In fact, he should have told Zhen Ai about his suspicions earlier rather than realizing he had kept something from her only after an outsider asked.
To him, this felt like a betrayal of his loved one.
He despised this feeling of betraying Zhen Ai at this moment. Stifled and angry, self-reproachful and ashamed, he needed to confess to Zhen Ai immediately.
Yan Su forcefully crumpled the tissue and threw it into the wastebasket, then headed outside. Just then, the actress gracefully walked in.
Yan Su frowned, feeling displeased again: "I didn't mistake the restroom, so… are you a transgender person?"
The actress was already used to his rudeness and didn't take offense.
She smiled sweetly, closed the door, and leaned against it in a seductive pose, looking all soft and snake-like. "Do you think I'm not feminine enough, Mr. Logician? I'm definitely more alluring than your little girlfriend."
She stepped closer, swaying as she approached him. "If I were to sleep with you, I bet you'd feel some aching in your bones," she said, raising her hand to rest on his shoulder.
Yan Su's eyes flashed with suppressed disgust, and he stepped back quickly, creating distance between them.
He looked at her coldly, not concealing his contempt: "So you're not an actress; you're a prostitute."
The actress was momentarily taken aback, a flicker of indignation passing through her eyes, but she forced herself to contain it. This man was truly… She bit her lip, anger transforming into a smile: "Is there any difference between an actress and a prostitute? Moreover, even if I were a prostitute, if I were to find you attractive, I would still be a pretty decent one, right?"
"Hmm, likewise, I'm a pretty decent logician," Yan Su had already opened the door and said coldly, "so you should understand that my standards of appreciation aren't that low."
As he stepped outside, he saw Zhen Ai blushing as she rushed out of the women's restroom, followed by the model and the kindergarten teacher, who laughed at Zhen Ai, saying, "It's okay."
Yan Su was puzzled and approached Zhen Ai, asking, "What happened?"
Zhen Ai fidgeted with her fingers: "The door to the stall inside was broken, and I accidentally pushed the wrong door." Seeing her bowing her head, his heart softened, and he couldn't help but reach out to ruffle her hair.
Zhen Ai looked up hesitantly, only to see the actress walking out of the men's restroom, and the women all stared in surprise.
Yan Su, however, remained composed and told them, "You all go back first." Then he pulled Zhen Ai aside and said, "I need to talk to you."
---
Outside the window in the corridor, rain was pouring down.
He held her shoulders, leaned down to gaze into her dark eyes, and spoke sincerely, "Ai, about the question they mentioned earlier…"
"It's okay," she interrupted him, raising her hand to hold his warm hand on her shoulder, smiling brightly. "I trust you. Besides, there's nothing for us to hide from each other!"
His expression, however, remained grave, not easing at all due to her smile. "Ai, I originally planned to wait until the case was over to tell you, but…"
She closed her mouth, her eyes shining with curiosity and focus as she looked at him.
"This castle is very likely…," he bit his lip, finding it difficult to say, but finally continued, "your home."
She froze, staring at him in disbelief for several seconds. "How is that possible? Then… what about the story the butler told?" It seemed she recalled something, shivering slightly.
"Please don't tell me the butler's story is true; don't say that chemist is my brother; don't say that young couple are my parents; and don't say that the person who sold weapons of mass destruction during World War II is my…"
She spoke too quickly and excitedly, her throat tightening, and she couldn't finish her words.
The person who built this castle developed weapons during World War II that killed so many people; they hid in fear and guilt. What weapons could cause such panic, making them live in constant dread?
Ha,
One generation after another, passing down this legacy—what an evil family, truly a family deserving of a curse.
Yet she refused to believe it, stubbornly looking at him, trying to maintain her calm facade, but the bitterness was undeniable: "You have no evidence. Dear, don't say that! This evil place, the bad people here, have nothing to do with me. Dear, please don't say that!"
His heart ached fiercely as he tightened his grip on her shoulders. "Ai, Lancelot is the family surname of the castle's original owner. C&C could be the names of the original couple, or perhaps your grandparents. So I wonder, when your parents named their child, did they follow the tradition of starting with the letter 'C'?"
Under the candlelight, her face paled.
"Ai, the plaintext of that Caesar variant cipher is NQQDNZHWWTDWLTQWC, and the ciphertext is KILL ONE OR BE KILLED. The key is a name, a girl's name starting with 'C', Cheryl, meaning 'my beloved', and that's you, isn't it?"
Zhen Ai trembled, her gaze vacant. "Even so, perhaps it's all just a coincidence."
"Yes, I've always thought that way, always held onto a glimmer of hope, so I never asked you. Ai," he softly called her name, his voice inexplicably lacking strength, "your brother's name also starts with 'C', right? Don't say anything yet, just listen to me. L.J found out that Alex's family is here."
She looked at him. "So what?"
"Alex said his surname is La Courage. I once joked about how strange and grammatically incorrect his surname was until now I realize it's actually the two capital letters from the family crest. Ai, L.J also said that Alex's name in the organization is… Chace."
The girl's complexion turned pale, as if frozen instantly, lacking any ripple of emotion.
She stared at him quietly, her eyes as dark as ever, devoid of any feeling. Just like the first time they met, when she came around from behind the piano, bringing with her the chill of winter, clean yet distant.
With each word she spoke, she asked, "So, it was you who pressed the white key, and then Alex, no, my brother Chace, is gone?"
Yan Su's heart plummeted, and a flicker of pain crossed his handsome face, yet he remained steady. "Yes."
The warm candlelight in the corridor reflected on her face but felt particularly dim and lonely. "My brother deceived you; he said it was the black key, and that's why you pressed the black key."
"Yes." He could see beneath her calm exterior, she was hurt; it felt as if his heart was being cut by a dull knife.
Zhen Ai lightly nodded, lifting her gaze to look at him unflinchingly. "At that time, you didn't see that he was lying."
Yan Su's heart shook violently as he stared at her. "No."
For a moment, he felt anger at her doubt, but it was swiftly engulfed by a tide of panic. He reached for her. "Ai, I really didn't…"
She suddenly stepped back, avoiding his hand. His hand grasped at the air, feeling empty, just like his heart at that moment.
Zhen Ai stood under the dim candlelight, smiling faintly. It was a sorrowful sight that made one want to cry. "Dear, I trust you."
Yan Su's heart felt as if it had been struck silently by a heavy hammer, pain piercing through him.
She continued to smile. "Dear, I'm not angry, really. I just… have too many things on my mind, and I want to walk alone for a bit. Please don't follow me, okay?" After saying that, she turned and ran into the deep corridor, disappearing without a trace.