What was originally meant to be a sarcastic remark had now become increasingly ambiguous. Zhou Ziheng considered himself unlucky, had nothing to say, and could only lower his head and continue with his work.
Xia Xiqing noticed that the corners of this guy’s ears had turned red.
Even though he was the one being teased, it was Zhou Ziheng who felt embarrassed.
Arson by negligence is still arson.
The paper fragments in Zhou Ziheng’s hands gradually came together, arranged on the ground, revealing the complete cover of the document.
“Divorce… agreement?” he murmured the words on the document, recalling the other document he had found in Shang Siru’s bedroom earlier.
“Was the document in the safe earlier a power of attorney for property transfer?” Zhou Ziheng spoke without looking up, but received no response. He turned his head in confusion and saw Xia Xiqing staring blankly at the words on the ground.
He couldn’t help but nudge Xia Xiqing with his elbow, and the other person suddenly snapped out of it, his expression odd. “Ah, yes, I think so.” But that moment had caught him off guard.
Xia Xiqing realized his emotions were showing, and his expression shifted again. Zhou Ziheng also noticed he’d been staring too intently at Xia Xiqing’s face, so he lowered his gaze to the assembled agreement. Surprisingly, Zhou Ziheng found that the agreement was surprisingly well-written, with additional clauses regarding property division and custody of the sole child under the age of 14. This made him admire the production team’s attention to detail.
“Finished reading? I have something to say.” To avoid being seen by others, Xia Xiqing gathered the papers on the ground and put them back in the wastebasket, then lowered his voice to share the thoughts he had been organizing for a long time with Zhou Ziheng.
“Come with me.” Saying this, he stood up, grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s wide jacket sleeve, and led him toward the wardrobe.
Shang Sirui saw the two of them and called out from the other side, “Hey, Ziheng, you guys…”
Zhou Ziheng didn’t resist but instead said to Shang Sirui, “We’re going to that room to see if there are any other clues.” “ Little did he know that after saying this, the hand that had been holding his sleeve shifted and directly grabbed his wrist. Zhou Ziheng froze for a moment, ”Hey…”
Xia Xiqing dragged him into another room without hesitation, released his hand, and gently closed the wardrobe door.
“Do you have anything to say?” Zhou Ziheng looked into his eyes.
“Now everyone is here,” Xia Xiqing walked over to the bed and sat down. The rose fragrance in the room made him feel a bit dizzy. “Which means one of us must be the killer.”
Zhou Ziheng crossed his arms and nodded in agreement. “ Xia Xiqing rarely showed a serious expression as he analyzed the clues they had one by one, ”The note about the date in the study, the restaurant reservation page and the property transfer authorization in the bedroom, and the empty medical records… The divorce agreement in that woman’s bedroom…” He paused, glancing around the room he was in, “So, this room should also have some clues unrelated to unlocking.”
“What do you think these clues are for?”
Xia Xiqing leaned back on the bed. The information was too fragmented, and he felt a headache coming on. He pulled off the hair tie at the back of his head, scratched his hair, and when he turned his head, he accidentally noticed a painting on the wall.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Xia Xiqing, who had been lying on the bed, sat up. His hair fell loosely around his ears, giving him a softer appearance. He walked over to the wall where the painting hung, examining each one carefully, and finally gave a definitive answer, “The male owner of this house did indeed have an affair.” He turned to look at Zhou Ziheng, “The object of the affair was the owner of this room.”
“Because of the rose fragrance in this room?” Zhou Ziheng was also somewhat suspicious, but without more convincing evidence, he did not jump to conclusions.
Xia Xiqing shook his head, “Not entirely.” He pointed to a painting hanging on the wall, depicting a couple embracing. The man’s muscular contours were outlined by his white shirt, and his strong arms were wrapped around the woman’s waist. Behind them were overlapping red curtains and distinct light and shadow contrasts. “This painting is Fragonard’s ‘The Latch,’ and its theme is infidelity.”
Zhou Ziheng, who had walked over, examined the painting closely. Having no prior knowledge of art, he could only ask, “How is it depicted?”
Xia Xiqing enjoyed being asked by Zhou Ziheng and even more enjoyed the process of explaining it to him. He raised the corner of his mouth slightly, “Did you see the flowers in the lower right corner? Those were brought by the man for his lover, but when he opened the door and saw the woman, he couldn’t control his emotions and threw the flowers on the ground. One hand embraced her waist, while the other reached out to lock the door latch.” He glanced at Zhou Ziheng’s eyes. “Can you imagine that scene?”
Zhou Ziheng was suddenly taken aback, and such a stimulating scene of infidelity did indeed pop into his mind.
This man was too perverted, always asking him such direct questions. He would probably never be able to look at the word “imagine” straight in the eye again.
“Not just this one—all the paintings in this room are either related to love or portraits of men. Look at the easel by the bed and the clothes in the wardrobe; it’s clear the room’s owner is a female painter.” Xia Xiqing walked up to the easel, “I feel like all the clues in these rooms form a story, like a plot.”
Like many themed escape room games, most of them present puzzles one by one within a pre-set plot, but this reality show is different. Each room seems independent, yet there is a series of clues unrelated to unlocking the door, gradually revealing the plot.
What kind of story is it? Xia Xiqing felt that the current clues were too scattered to piece together.
There must be a crucial piece missing.
Staring at Xia Xiqing’s profile, Zhou Ziheng noticed a barely noticeable scar on his chin, with traces of stitches. To be honest, Xia Xiqing looked much more appealing when he was serious, and with his handsome, harmless face, he could deceive anyone.
His mind was in constant turmoil, and time was ticking away.
He had never felt making a choice was so difficult.
Several hours had passed, and the first round of voting was about to begin. He couldn’t guarantee that no one would be executed in the first round.
Sigh.
Zhou Ziheng helplessly reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a dark brown dropper bottle, and handed it to Xia Xiqing.
Xia Xiqing was a bit surprised. When he took the bottle, he glanced at Zhou Ziheng, whose expression was so awkward that he couldn’t even describe it.
He couldn’t help but laugh, “What is this?”
That same flippant tone made Zhou Ziheng feel annoyed, and he even began to regret sharing his unique clue. He watched Xia Xiqing’s slender fingers circling the mouth of the brown wide-mouth bottle.
He wanted to take it back, to snatch it from his hands right now.
Seeing that Zhou Ziheng wasn’t speaking, Xia Xiqing looked into his eyes and raised an eyebrow, “Why aren’t you speaking?” This time, the trailing note was even longer.
Zhou Ziheng cleared his throat.
Never mind, it’s already been given.
“I found it in the living room earlier, lying in the corner of the dining table.” Xia Xingqing looked at the bottle, which had a label with chemical symbols on it.
“This is □□, it’s toxic.” Zhou Ziheng, acting like a science student, directly told Xia Xingqing the answer. Upon hearing those three words, Xia Xingqing froze, all the clues converging in his mind at that moment.
No wonder…
No wonder there were white chrysanthemums on the desk in the study, and the furniture was covered in white cloth.
“The male owner was murdered.” Xia Xiqing looked up at Zhou Ziheng, who nodded slightly and said to him, “Does this piece of the plot fit together now?”
That’s right, that’s right. Xia Xiqing began to piece together the previous clues. “The male owner had an affair with the female painter, tried to transfer his assets, and divorced the female owner. Now he’s dead…”
“Logically speaking, the female owner is the most suspicious,” Zhou Ziheng continued. “Tearing up the divorce agreement and killing the male owner in a moment of panic is not impossible.”
Xia Xiqing furrowed his brows slightly, “It’s clear that the male protagonist received an invitation from the female painter at Sophia Restaurant. Perhaps the male protagonist ultimately couldn’t divorce his wife and chose to stay with his family, so the painter isn’t entirely without motive for murder.”
Zhou Ziheng looked at the painting titled “Door Bolt,” “What you say makes sense. Too much information is conveyed through the painting.”
If it weren’t for professionals like Xia Xiqing, many clues would become blurred. But could his perspective be overly interpretive?
Not necessarily.
“Yes, the painting provides a lot of information,” Xia Xiqing tried to organize the paintings that hadn’t yielded any useful information under Zhou Ziheng’s reminder. “Most of the paintings in this room hint at the ambiguous relationship between the female painter and the male host. The painting ‘The Nameless Girl’ hanging in the female host’s room, and in our room…”
…the painting ‘The Clothed Mahā’ is hanging.”
He suddenly thought of Mahā’s attire in the painting, his eyes going blank as he spoke blankly, “Did you notice? The clothes Mahā is wearing…”
Zhou Ziheng nodded calmly, “They’re exactly the same as the ones on Chen Chen.”
The players actually correspond to the characters in the locked-room plot.
Xia Xiqing couldn’t believe it, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at the painting “The Door Bolt” and the portrait of the man on the wall. One of their common features was that they both wore white shirts.
“So I correspond to that male owner?”
The player himself didn’t know he had a corresponding role; he was completely in the dark until the clues gradually came together.
Who wrote such a chillingly detailed script?
Leave a Reply