Chen Chen looked at the empty space under the bed, feeling anxious. “Still no clues…” He turned to Shang Siru. “Siru, what should we do now?”
Shang Siru sighed. “Let’s just wait for the execution vote later,” he said, taking out his phone. The screen displayed the countdown to the vote. “Thirteen minutes left.”
“Who should we vote for? The same as before?”
Shang Sirui puffed out his cheeks, furrowing his brows like a child who hadn’t gotten his candy. “Chen Chen, you haven’t been convinced by Xi Qing that quickly, have you? Do you really think Zi Heng is the killer? I don’t think so. Zi Heng’s behavior doesn’t seem like that of a villain. Besides, he’s always been an academic star. It’s only natural that he has a clear mind and solves problems quickly. What we need to do now is to vote out the most likely candidate as soon as possible.”
Chen Chen hesitated for a moment and asked uncertainly, “Should we go persuade Zi Heng to join us?”
Shang Sirui shook his head. “Forget about Zi Heng. He’s been with Xi Qing all along, so he might not listen to us. Ruan Xiao has already agreed with us that if all three of us vote…” Suddenly, he heard a sound, so he quietly opened the wardrobe door. Ruan Xiao’s voice came from another room.
“Alright, I’ll vote for Zi Heng with you.”
Xia Xiqing’s voice also appeared.
“Trust me, he must have something wrong with him.”
Hearing the footsteps of the two people approaching, Shang Sirui quickly stepped back. Xia Xiqing and Ruan Xiao emerged from the wardrobe and saw Shang Sirui and Chen Chen standing by the moved bed. Xia Xiqing spoke up, “Did you find any useful clues?”
Shang Sirui sighed, “No… I don’t think we’ll find anything.”
Ruan Xiao looked at Chen Chen, who also looked at her and gave her a nod. Ruan Xiao’s face showed a hint of hesitation. “I… I’ll stay here for now.”
Shang Siru’s expression visibly relaxed.
Seeing that the three had no intention of leaving, Xia Xiqing sighed in relief. He calmly left the female painter’s room and thoughtfully closed the door behind him.
If Xia Xiqing hadn’t guessed wrong, Shang Sirui and Chen Chen would certainly try to persuade Ruan Xiao to follow them and vote him out. During this time, Ruan Xiao’s negotiations with the two of them would give him time to find evidence.
Shang Sirui wasn’t stupid; he would surely realize that his plan was falling apart. At that point, out of fear that the truth would be exposed, he would panic and “kill” Xia Xiqing.
And that was exactly what Xia Xiqing wanted. He wanted to force this killer to use his only opportunity to kill someone voluntarily, so that he would no longer pose a threat to Zhou Ziheng.
The prerequisite was that he could find evidence before his death to prove Shang Siru’s identity to Zhou Ziheng. Otherwise, given Zhou Ziheng’s prejudice against him, he would probably not believe his one-sided account.
The living room was empty. Xia Xiqing didn’t know where Zhou Ziheng was now, nor did he have time to find out.
He took out his phone and glanced at the countdown timer—there were still eight minutes left.
Xia Xiqing hurried toward Shang Siru’s original room, rolling up his white shirt sleeves to his elbows. Upon entering, he walked directly to the empty wall facing the camera and confirmed once again that the two nails were still there, exactly where they had been.
There must have been a painting here.
Xia Xiqing took every piece of clothing out of the wardrobe and threw them on the ground, leaving the wardrobe completely empty. Xia Xiqing tried to put himself in Shang Siru’s shoes to consider the situation.
Judging from the paintings in the other rooms, the one here must have been framed as well, unless he had removed the frame. No, that wouldn’t make sense—it would be too troublesome and he wouldn’t have the tools. Shang Siru hadn’t even taken the medical records with him, so there was no way he would have taken such a large painting.
Xia Xiqing surveyed the entire room. It must have been hidden in some corner of this room.
Where? Where could it be?
The situation was tense, and Xia Xiqing felt sweat forming on his palms.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Standing in front of the wardrobe, he carefully scanned the entire room. The room wasn’t very large, and there weren’t many places where a painting could be hidden.
The carpet? Impossible, they had walked over it several times. Xia Xiqing lifted the carpet, but there was nothing there. Under the round table? No way, but he bent down to check anyway. The back was empty.
It couldn’t be in such an obvious place.
He walked over to the wardrobe next to the bed and opened all the drawers, but there was no painting inside, and in fact, there wasn’t enough space to fit a painting.
Xia Xiqing’s gaze finally settled on the bed.
He suddenly remembered that when they had received the memo about the pen, he had suggested moving the bed to check underneath, but Shang Sirui had been reluctant at first.
Recalling his expression at the time, Xia Xiqing was almost certain there was something wrong with the bed. He immediately pulled all the bedding off the prop bed and threw it onto the floor, leaving only the bare bed frame.
Nothing. Still nothing.
Impossible.
Xia Xiqing tried once more to put himself in Shang Siru’s shoes, recalling the details of that time, his expression, and the words he had spoken.
The memory grew fuzzy, but Xia Xiqing was certain of one thing: Shang Siru had refused to let him and Zhou Ziheng move the bed.
This meant that moving the bed itself would easily expose the painting he had hidden.
He thought of a possibility that was almost impossible.
Xia Xiqing moved the bed by himself. To be precise, he didn’t move it, but lifted one side after moving it to the wall. The lightweight prop bed was easily placed on its side on the ground, with the bed surface against the wall, exposing the entire underside of the bed to his view.
As he had expected, there was an oil painting stuck to the underside of the bed, hastily secured with wide adhesive tape.
The painting depicted a handsome young man with light brown hair, tightly wrapped by a female demon with a human face and a beast’s body. The demon’s beautiful face gazed up at the young man’s serious eyes, while her two beast-like claws clutched his chest, her eyes filled with temptation.
This painting was all too familiar to Xia Xiqing—it was Gustave Moreau’s “Oedipus and the Sphinx.”
Oedipus was one of the most famous and tragic figures in ancient Greek mythology.
He was kind and wise, embodying the beauty of humanity, yet he could never escape the prophecy of patricide.
This painting was the biggest clue to the killer’s identity. An unfaithful father, tense parents who were unwilling to show him affection.
The obedient son who could only communicate with his father through notes was in a low state during a depressive episode.
During a manic episode, he killed his father who had betrayed the family.
Such a plot was so realistic that it made Xia Xiqing feel uneasy, but the tension of the moment slightly alleviated the physical discomfort. He knelt on the ground, trying to peel off the tape to remove the painting, but it was stuck too tightly. No matter how hard he tried, he could only peel off a few strips of tape.
“Xiqing? Xiqing, where are you?”
It was Shang Sirui’s voice.
Xia Xiqing’s heart began to race. He quickly assessed the urgency of the situation and decided to abandon his attempt to remove the painting.
This matter couldn’t be kept to himself; he had to tell someone else. He had originally planned to show the painting to Zhou Ziheng, who wouldn’t believe him no matter what, so that he would have the most compelling evidence to convince him. But now there was no time for that; he would have to explain it to him directly.
He didn’t have much time left, and Shang Sirui couldn’t wait.
Before he killed himself, he had to put all his chances on Zhou Ziheng.
Xia Xiqing immediately walked to the door between Shang Sirui’s room and his original room, trying his luck to see if he was inside. If he wasn’t, then it would be troublesome, as Shang Sirui was already blocking the living room.
As soon as he pushed open the study door, Xia Xiqing found it pitch-black inside.
In an instant, he felt severe shortness of breath and even dizziness.
He hesitated, his feet uncontrollably stopping. The black room felt like an endless black hole, dangerous and unknown. Viscous blackness seeped through the boundary between light and darkness, clinging to his toes, his feet, his calves, dragging him into it alive.
Xia Xiqing reached out frantically to touch the light switch by the door, but his wrist was suddenly grabbed by another hand, dragged a few steps, and pulled directly into the room. Xia Xiqing felt so miserable he wanted to curse, but just as he was about to speak, the unreasonable person pushed him against the wall and covered his mouth.
“Shh. I found a clue; we can get out…”
It was Zhou Ziheng’s voice.
The overwhelming stress response made Xia Xiqing forget to ask Zhou Ziheng why he knew it was him right away, even though he couldn’t see anything.
Outside the door, Si Rui’s voice was getting closer.
His mouth was covered, so he couldn’t speak, but Zhou Ziheng was too strong, so Xia Xiqing bit his palm hard.
Zhou Ziheng let go in pain: “What are you doing?”
“I can’t get out.” Xia Xiqing leaned against the cold wall, panting, his voice hoarse.
In the darkness, he struggled to grab Zhou Ziheng’s hand, his voice deep and urgent, “Shang Sui is the Killer. Believe me, I’m not lying to you this time.”
He spoke hurriedly and frantically, and Zhou Ziheng’s heart suddenly began to race, pounding violently in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but perhaps it was because Xia Xiqing in the darkness seemed so unfamiliar.
Before he could say another word or offer further explanation, the familiar metallic sound echoed from the ceiling.
“Player Xia Xiqing, death. Player Xia Xiqing, death.”
The repeated death announcements swirled overhead, spreading through the darkness.
Though everything in his field of vision was endless blackness, Zhou Ziheng could feel the icy hands gripping him release, the fingers slowly withdrawing from the rapidly beating pulse on his wrist.
“From this moment on, Player Xia Xiqing loses the right to speak. Please proceed to the elimination seat in the living room to await elimination.”
Author’s Note: The next chapter is where Zhou Ziheng carries the game to its conclusion.
Zhou Ziheng: I recognized my wife in an instant, only to get bitten. I’m furious.
Xia Xiqing: You seemed pretty excited, with your heart pounding away~
Zhou Ziheng: That’s because I’m furious!
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