Things were looking very bad.
Jiang Xiao pressed his lips tightly together, struggling to conceal his shocked expression. Every single reminder of the Death Probability increase had appeared in connection with Ying Weizhu…
Was this a coincidence or not?
In the first scenario, everyone else’s murderous intent was also increasing, and Ying Weizhu just happened to be the trigger point. But there was also the scenario where Ying Weizhu, single-handedly, was driving up the mortality rate.
Jiang Xiao leaned towards the second option.
“If I might ask,” Jiang Xiao pointed at the smiley face and asked the System, “Is this also part of the System? Isn’t it a bit too… polite?”
The smiley face looked like a child’s crayon scribble on a wall, but no one would find it childlike. In this atmosphere, it only evoked the grin of a clown in a dark, sinister circus.
The next moment, what appeared before his eyes could be beautiful fireworks, or it could be a blood-stained blade.
System: “I am not aware.”
System: “If you require an answer, you may consult the Customer Service Department after clearing the Instance.”
Jiang Xiao felt no malice from the System itself, but he couldn’t say the same for this game.
Since childhood, he had been sensitive to the emotions of those around him. He also liked observing people, a foundation upon which he’d built his career as an outstanding actor.
No play Jiang Xiao auditioned for had ever rejected him.
Directors always praised him as exceptionally gifted, destined for great things.
This talent should have been an unbeatable weapon in this game. Who knew his start would be so disadvantageous? The game directly stripped Jiang Xiao of his most important ability: observation. Relying solely on sound, discerning the feelings these men held for him was incredibly difficult.
But Jiang Xiao knew one thing, the most crucial thing.
Don’t just look at the surface, nor only at what a person does. Dialogue in a script can be deceitful words uttered by a character. In a place riddled with killing intent, this is even more true.
A Hell-level difficulty Instance wouldn’t allow anyone to clear it easily.
The person who most resembles the murderer will certainly not be the murderer.
Therefore, based on this deduction, even if he died, the killer wouldn’t necessarily be Ying Weizhu. But…
Jiang Xiao didn’t ponder it for long.
“Is that so?” Ying Weizhu crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto the table, saying unhurriedly, “Even by order of precedence, I should be first, shouldn’t I?”
Qin Guan finally had a legitimate reason to openly confront Ying Weizhu. “Didn’t you hear? Jiang Xiao doesn’t want to. Don’t you know the birthday star calls the shots? Must you stir up trouble on his birthday?”
Ying Weizhu was genuinely stumped by this question. The enigmatic smile on his face slowly receded. “Jiang Xiao, have I upset you?”
“Don’t you know yourself?” Qin Guan shot back. “And according to the rules, today, whatever Jiang Xiao asks you to do, you must do.”
Jiang Xiao silently gave Qin Guan a thumbs up in his heart.
This guy usually seemed a bit dense; how did he suddenly become so sharp-tongued?
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Ying Weizhu, for whatever reason—perhaps swayed by these mysterious “rules”—actually softened his stance. “Tomorrow will do, right?”
“Tomorrow…”
Jiang Xiao had only spoken two words before being cut off again.
“I have business with him tomorrow.”
Bo Xiting, at some point, had poured himself another glass of wine. He sipped silently, still having the leisure to interject. Seeming to recall something, he added:
“A previous agreement.”
Jiang Xiao waited a few seconds; the System didn’t inform him of what this agreement was.
“Right, we do have an agreement.” Jiang Xiao’s expression was natural. “I really can’t spare the time. How about the day after tomorrow?”
Ying Weizhu’s lips curved into a cold sneer. There was a chill in his voice.
“You simply never intended to fulfill the promise, did you?”
“How could that be? I truly am busy. If it doesn’t work, how about you discuss it with the two of them and see what can be done?” Jiang Xiao tossed the difficult question back to them with utmost sincerity. “And that matter… can’t be interrupted midway. Better to choose a quiet time.”
“What matter?” Wen Xu, sitting aside peeling shrimp, suddenly spoke up, smoothly feeding the shrimp to Jiang Xiao as he asked.
This single action instantly drew all the fire.
“Jiang Xiao, do you lack hands? Must someone else peel it for you before you’ll eat?” Ying Weizhu’s question was exceptionally pointed.
Wen Xu smiled, asking very gently, “And is that any of your business?”
Ying Weizhu: “…”
Ying Weizhu had truly suffered every grievance imaginable at this dinner table. It was as if everyone had used him as a living target, riddling him with random gunfire. He immediately stood up and left the room without looking back.
Jiang Xiao heard a loud slam, then the sound of footsteps fading into the distance. He asked uncertainly, “Did Ying Weizhu leave?”
He started reflecting. “Was that too harsh? After all, he’s also a guest I invited.”
“Look at the way he acted. Did he ever see himself as a guest? More like he wanted to be the host but failed, so he stormed off in a huff.” Qin Guan let out a “Ha!”, his words dripping with innuendo. “Think being the host is so easy?”
The true host was still diligently and uncomplainingly peeling shrimp for someone else.
Jiang Xiao, however, was thinking about other matters.
He had found out Jiang Mu’s room number—right upstairs, just one floor above them.
They were both named Jiang. The butler had raised no objections and directly told him the room number, even supplying additional information.
For instance, Jiang Mu had arrived several hours before them, hadn’t left his room since entering, and had taken no action other than ordering meals.
One more detail: when Jiang Mu arrived at the hotel, he had also been carrying a considerably large suitcase.
In other words, Jiang Mu had long planned to come.
But why had he lied, claiming something came up and he couldn’t make it?
Jiang Xiao was still a student, while Jiang Mu had already graduated and gone straight to the company. If one were to say he wanted to find an opportunity to kill Jiang Xiao, the heir, it was plausible.
The blizzard had been forecast well in advance. Although weather reports weren’t perfectly accurate, the drive from the city was long. Given Jiang Xiao’s unrecovered health, staying here for a few days was easily predictable.
Coupled with the excuse of being unexpectedly detained, he even had an alibi. But if someone asked the butler, wouldn’t that expose him? He couldn’t kill the butler too.
Jiang Xiao had initially planned to have Qin Guan take him upstairs later to check on what Jiang Mu was really up to.
But now, he dismissed that idea.
Because he was starting to realize that Qin Guan might not be as simple as he appeared on the surface either.
—
Ying Weizhu’s departure didn’t cause the meal to end on a sour note. The psychological resilience of the other few was exceptional; they ate and drank as usual. Jiang Xiao ate until he was about half full. Wen Xu knew his appetite very well and stopped serving him food once it was enough, practically understanding Jiang Xiao better than Jiang Xiao understood himself.
Afterwards, Wen Xu began clearing the table. Qin Guan, who also seemed to enjoy household chores, joined in.
Jiang Xiao smelled a light, sweet peach scent, mixed with a faint, intoxicating hint of alcohol. He said in disbelief, “Senior, you’re drinking again? How have you turned into an alcoholic in just a few months?”
“Just fruit wine.” Bo Xiting said indifferently. “It barely counts as a beverage.”
Jiang Xiao was suspicious. “I don’t believe you.”
“Try it yourself.”
Bo Xiting placed the glass in Jiang Xiao’s hand, then left the dining room.
Jiang Xiao swirled the glass gently, shook it. He figured Bo Xiting probably wouldn’t poison him right then. So he took a small sip.
Sweet.
Only the faintest trace of alcohol.
It really was low-alcohol fruit wine.
He fell into thought.
Among the three ex-boyfriends so far, he had at least a thirty to forty percent understanding of Jiang Mu’s and Ying Weizhu’s situations. But as for Bo Xiting…
Getting a handle on him was truly difficult.
He couldn’t even find a point of entry.
After tidying up, Wen Xu guided Jiang Xiao to the sofa. Qin Guan played a single-player game on his phone, the sound effects booming; Bo Xiting continued reading his seemingly endless book, the rustle of turning pages sounding now and then. Wen Xu was on a phone call, not bothering to avoid the others.
Jiang Xiao listened for a bit; Wen Xu should have been talking to a family member.
Wen Xu’s relationship with him was indeed very close. This kind of bond, built since childhood, was probably unmatched by anyone else.
It was precisely because of this that Wen Xu could appear so composed, efficient, and courteous.
Because he knew: the person most suited for Jiang Xiao was, without a doubt, himself, and no one else.
Hanging up the phone, Wen Xu leaned closer to Jiang Xiao and whispered, “I asked around. Jiang Mu had a last-minute arrangement and went on a business trip. He won’t be back for a week.”
A business trip?
A good excuse.
“Although he moved into your house, his mother hasn’t officially married your father yet. From that perspective, perhaps Uncle Jiang has other plans.” Wen Xu said gently, “There’s no need to worry too much about the inheritance issue.”
“I’m not worried,” Jiang Xiao said. “It’s simply… each relying on their own abilities.”
Wen Xu paused briefly, then smiled. “Mm.”
The logs in the fireplace crackled and popped; the fire seemed to roar even stronger than it had in the afternoon. Outside, the night’s fierce wind and heavy snow battered the windows, making the interior feel even warmer and cozier.
No bright overhead lights were installed in the room. Perhaps to enhance the European classical ambiance, the gilded, painted ceiling chandelier, though intricately and beautifully patterned, emitted only soft, diffused light.
With a beep, someone walked in.
Ying Weizhu swept his gaze over Jiang Xiao, who was whispering intimately with Wen Xu, and sat down on a single high stool in the corner. After a long while, he spoke. “Since everyone has agreements with Jiang Xiao, why not play a game? Use the game to allocate time. Wouldn’t that be fairer?”
“If you have ulterior motives, just say so. Don’t dress it up with fancy words. Besides, if you lose, won’t you just cry ‘cheater’?” Qin Guan clicked his tongue; he’d clearly seen this routine plenty of times.
“The game will be open and fair. If you can cheat, I’ll have nothing to say.” Ying Weizhu said, “The loser must accept the result.”
“What game?” Jiang Xiao put on an interested expression, playing along enthusiastically.
Ying Weizhu didn’t answer immediately. The dancing light of the flames fell on his side profile, yet only made the shadows in the darker parts seem deeper, making his entire being appear gloomy and sinister.
His looks were originally very handsome, not the vividly dramatic type, but rather serene and bright. Yet now, looking at him, he seemed like a resentful, lonely ghost barely holding onto a human shell.
A strange, crooked smile played on his lips, but his eyes were exceptionally cold. Even those dazzlingly brilliant golden pupils seemed to have sunk into darkness. Then, he slowly spoke—
“Murder Game.”
