The next morning, the guests came downstairs one after another to eat breakfast.
Xiao Fen yawned. He had suffered from a bit of insomnia the night before.
He always had trouble sleeping the first night in a new place.
He recalled the bed in Fang Si Ting’s apartment. It seemed he had adapted to it perfectly from the very start.
The bed at his place was of good quality. He would ask about the brand later. The Lu Family had given him a villa, but that bed was truly uncomfortable.
As he spaced out during breakfast, Qin Shuhui came down from upstairs. The moment she spotted him, her expression froze for an instant.
She leaned in and whispered something to Butler Zhuo, who shook his head.
“What happened?” Fang Si Ting noticed their muttering and called out loudly.
“We just checked on the guests,” Butler Zhuo said. “Assistant Yan and Mr. Wang are missing.”
The Mr. Wang he referred to was Wang Heng, a stand-up comedian who had come with another stand-up comedian friend.
“Everyone stay in the restaurant and living room. Butler Zhuo, keep an eye on them.” Fang Si Ting set down his breakfast and headed out with Tang Shen and the others.
They began searching from the first floor, checking room by room.
When they reached the innermost room on the second floor, the maid pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Strange.”
“Whose room is this?” Fang Si Ting asked.
“It’s not anyone’s room. It’s Madam’s Tea Room,” the maid replied. “Someone might be inside.”
She called out kindly a few times, but there was no response at all from within.
Fang Si Ting examined the door. There was no keyhole on the outside.
The maid explained, “The Tea Room is usually left open. But when Madam is inside tasting tea or practicing calligraphy, she likes it quiet, so she locks it from the inside with a simple latch.”
Just then, Tang Shen called. “We found the deceased Wang Heng on the fourth floor.”
Fang Si Ting scanned the area around the door, stepped back two paces, and suddenly kicked the door open with a powerful leg.
Yan Feng lay collapsed on the floor right in the center of the entrance, an empty syringe dropped beside him.
“Everyone stop right there.” Fang Si Ting and Xu An entered the room first.
Bai Zhu stood at the doorway watching, instructing all the servants who had followed to remain outside.
Yan Feng lay unconscious on the carpet in the middle of the Tea Room, a tiny needle mark visible on the side of his neck.
Beside him was a syringe, completely drained of its contents. The end of the syringe was engraved with a small “Yan” character, marking it as Yan Feng’s injectant.
The carpet beneath his body was somewhat disheveled. Several cigarette butts and bits of ash were scattered everywhere, trailing from the door all the way to Yan Feng’s side. Fang Si Ting picked up one fully burned cigarette butt and examined it. It was a brand of ladies’ cigarette.
“That’s the brand Madam smokes,” the maid confirmed, pointing to the cabinet in the opposite wall corner. “She only smokes this one kind, and we always keep some stocked in the Tea Room cabinet for her.”
Fang Si Ting took another close look before setting it down.
To the left upon entering the room stood a massive gold-inlaid jade tea table surrounded by cushions. The table held the four treasures of the study along with a tea set and tray. Next to it was a plump-bellied vase containing a few rolled-up paintings. A sloppy calligraphy piece reading “Quiet” hung on the wall.
Fang Si Ting approached the table and picked up the ashtray. It contained five or six extinguished cigarettes and a pile of ash.
The cigarette butts bore traces of lipstick at their tips.
He leaned in for a sniff. The scent matched the ones on the floor—fresh cigarette and ash, produced within the last few hours, not stale.
“How often is the Tea Room cleaned?”
The maid at the door replied, “Every day. The most recent cleaning was around 7 p.m. yesterday. Madam instructed us to scrub every inch spotless in preparation for the program.”
Fang Si Ting inspected the ashtray. There were no signs of damage or disturbance. He set it down and walked to the opposite side of the desk.
A sliding door stood there. Fang Si Ting slid it open and peered inside. A yoga mat was rolled up in the corner, along with a wardrobe. He opened it to find women’s clothing, plus an adjoining bathroom. The window was tightly shut, the floor dry, though the towel rack appeared recently used and disarrayed.
A crowd of guests had gathered at the doorway. There was no way they would sit obediently downstairs waiting; Butler Zhuo couldn’t hold them back.
“Two out already, and so fast.” Zhong Jinghuan gloated.
“What’s there to be happy about? That just means two fewer spots for success,” Li Fei said.
“So one of you is the criminal, the other the victim?” Xu Haokong chuckled.
“Who asks it so bluntly? I can’t say,” Zhong Jinghuan laughed. “I just love the excitement, so I’m thrilled. Not sure what has you so anxious, though.”
Li Fei’s expression stiffened slightly. She didn’t reply.
That single remark had exposed her identity.
Fang Si Ting emerged and saw the five or six people clustered there. He moved to the window directly opposite the main door, skirting the chaise lounge and rocking chair to inspect the window area. The latch was securely locked, the keyhole undamaged, and the window opened normally.
Peering out revealed a sheer, bottomless cliff.
The opposing cliff face was at least fifty meters away—an impossible chasm to cross.
【Isn’t this Brother Fen’s Happy Cliff?】
【Yeah, is this supposed to stump him?】
【Cliff appears, no need to think—Brother Fen’s the killer for sure. Only he could climb it.】
【The mansion’s balconies and windows jut out over the cliff. Even if he wanted to climb, it’s impossible, right?】
【Someday have Brother Fen give it a try, but he really didn’t climb last night.】
The camera, positioned outside the window at the audience’s request, captured the cliff scenery. The mansion perched on the cliff’s edge, its windows and balconies suspended above the abyss. For anyone to climb out from a balcony, swing onto the cliff face, and cling there with hands and feet—it was utterly impossible.
Fang Si Ting saw no traces of anyone scaling the exterior. Glancing at the neighboring windows to left and right, they were at least five meters apart.
He closely examined the windowsill, especially the edges. Nothing.
After circling the room, he returned to the doorway.
He had kicked in the main door, breaking its lock. Otherwise, everything else was intact.
The door consisted of two panels that opened from the center. Near the middle of each panel’s frame was a lotus-shaped cloisonné enamel copper plate secured by screws. The right plate dangled a koi carp copper piece, while the left plate featured a protruding slot.
Simply placing the dangling copper piece into the left panel’s slot locked the Tea Room door from the inside. But now it was damaged—the left plate and screw hung precariously on the door.
The door hadn’t opened earlier, so it had definitely been locked from within.
“It’s a secret room,” Fang Si Ting declared.
His words stunned the guests at the door.
“Whoa, jumping straight to hard mode.”
“Not Brother Fen, right?”
“Talk evidence, Brother Ka,” Xiao Fen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s what you taught me.”
Brother Ka smiled but said nothing.
“Xiao Fen, got a minute?” Xu Haokong pulled him aside. “I’ve watched a couple episodes of this show. Your acting has improved a ton. I brought a script this time specifically for the program. Let’s discuss it later. We couldn’t collaborate before, but I hope to make up for that regret now.”
【What? Brother Fen joining Director Xu’s crew to act?】
【Awesome! More dramas with Fen Treasure.】
【Fan service, huh? His wooden acting is painful to watch; I just can’t appreciate it.】
【That face alone has me hooked.】
【See? With fans and hype, good looks mean no need for basic skills anymore. Brother Fen, sincere advice: stick to variety shows.】
【You can see from the show—Fen Treasure’s acting is polished to perfection. Stop harping on the past!】
The viewers’ divided opinions buzzed lively. Meanwhile, Xiao Fen readily agreed.
“Why does it have to be someone stabbing them? It’s a locked room, the weapon is their own—maybe they stabbed themselves,” Xu Haokong mused aloud, eager for the audience and Xiao Fen to hear his grand script idea. “The Program Crew only said the criminal can’t be caught with evidence of the crime. Didn’t specify if they’re dead or alive. As long as it’s not proven suicide, it counts as success.”
【Sounds so logical, what to do?】
【This angle exists?】
【Director Xu, thinking outside the box right away.】
【But this screams staged suicide. Can’t be what Director Xu imagines.】
“What if it’s fishing line?” Li Fei, an avid anime watcher, suggested. “Like using fishing line to hook something and lift the copper piece into place, then release it.”
“The master doesn’t fish, so the mansion has no fishing gear,” a servant replied.
Fang Si Ting closed the door. Everyone noted there were no gaps at the top or bottom of the panels. A thin fishing line could slip through, but any tool to hook the copper piece couldn’t—it would snap and fall inside the room.
Yet he hadn’t seen such a tool inside.
“Then Assistant Yan locked it himself. There’s a vent in the Tea Room. Maybe the killer gassed him through the vent,” Zhong Jinghuan proposed, his mind racing.
Lin Xiu shot him down without mercy. “How? The injectant is limited. Vaporized, it couldn’t travel from one room to another. And his own syringe is right there, empty beside him?”
“I got it. What if the copper piece is actually a painted iron one?” Song Hui said. “Use a magnet outside the door to pull it up beforehand. Once the door closes, remove the magnet, and it drops into the slot naturally.”
“Genius,” Lin Xiu said. “Not bad for Brother Fen’s manager.”
“But the koi carp copper piece is cloisonné enamel—not some cheap junk. We all got last-minute notice to come here, didn’t even know what the mansion looked like. Who’d prepare for this in advance?” Li Fei murmured.
Bai Zhu, standing by the door, had Butler Zhuo painstakingly fetch a magnet. They tested it—pure copper piece, no iron.
They proposed many more theories, but each was quickly debunked. No one could figure out how that copper piece had ended up in the slot.
With evidence collection complete, Fang Si Ting directed everyone back to the living room. “First, everyone state your whereabouts after dinner last night.”
Lin Xiu spoke up. “I asked Butler Zhuo about the mansion’s gym location and worked out on the first floor for three hours before returning to my room to shower and sleep.”
“What time?”
“Around 11 p.m.,” she recalled.
New Rising Flower Li Fei followed. “I stayed in my room the whole time.”
Song Hui said, “Same here.”
Many others gave identical alibis.
“I came out for water.”
Xiao Fen sensed the gazes turning to him and instinctively looked over.
It was the mixed-race kid he had run into last night.
He’d asked around later—Matthew was a singer, just eighteen. Young as he was, he already had two singles that exploded globally. Far stronger than the nepotism kid Zhong Jinghuan.
A reverse cross sapphire necklace hung around his neck, black-and-white sneakers on his feet. In the warm, heated room, he wore only a loose, distressed sand-colored thin sweater with cutouts. When he stood, the light faintly outlined his slender, athletic waist.
He looked at Xiao Fen and said in his accented speech, “Around 1 a.m. last night, I went downstairs.”
He seemed to be hinting at something.
Actor Xue Chengge exclaimed in delight, “Matthew, your voice is so soft and milky!”
Matthew smiled shyly. “The tones are too hard.”
“Did you notice anything unusual when you went downstairs last night?”
Matthew thought for a moment. “Around 1:30 a.m., I saw a woman in a khaki coat—long one. Her hair was wrapped in a towel. She ran from the second-floor corner staircase toward the upper floors. From the first floor, I couldn’t see clearly.”
“We provide drinking water in every room. Why go downstairs so late?” Lu Jin asked suspiciously. “Worst case, ring the bell for a butler to bring some.”
“To be precise, it wasn’t water. I didn’t find the right word earlier. I usually drink a glass of orange juice before bed,” Matthew said sheepishly. “I’m not used to troubling others.”
Lu Jin eyed his revised story, growing more suspicious.
“Deputy Team Leader Tang, any findings on your end?”
Per Program Crew rules, guests could shift roles by solving cases, so the Pursuit Team shared their clues.
Tang Shen reported, “Preliminary estimate: Wang Heng was attacked between midnight and 2 a.m. last night.”
Xu Haokong was puzzled. “How do you know that?”
