Ying Weizhu stood right outside the storage room, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, waiting. After a while, the door opened. Jiang Xiao fumbled his way out. He had changed into a new sweater.
Sensitively scrutinizing Jiang Xiao, Ying Weizhu narrowed his eyes slightly.
This sweater was the same style as the one Bo Xiting was wearing. Bo Xiting’s was dark blue, while Jiang Xiao’s was beige.
Coincidental matching outfits were possible, but was it really that coincidental?
Just as Ying Weizhu was about to turn away, he suddenly noticed something off—
Jiang Xiao’s finger was dripping blood.
Though Jiang Xiao himself seemed completely unaware.
“What’s this?” Ying Weizhu frowned slightly, reaching for Jiang Xiao’s hand. The feigned amusement in his voice vanished completely.
Jiang Xiao immediately shook his hand off, not letting him see the wound. “None of your business. Don’t touch me, I’m warning you.”
He was still angry about the bite.
Good intentions were repaid with spite. Ying Weizhu, surprisingly, didn’t get angry. He nodded, his voice carrying a trace of mockery. “Then just wait and see if anyone else cares.”
The “anyone else” naturally referred to Bo Xiting.
Jiang Xiao’s expression was cold. He had no intention of speaking to Ying Weizhu. Ying Weizhu’s suspicion level was already sky-high. Who the hell brought a knife on a leisure trip?
Jiang Xiao had wiped the blood off the knife, but he didn’t treat the wound on his hand.
He couldn’t treat it; the location was too obvious. So he simply walked out openly. Ying Weizhu, as he expected, didn’t suspect Jiang Xiao of opening his suitcase.
Jiang Xiao was getting the hang of navigating now. As long as he walked slowly, he wouldn’t bump into things. He had even mentally mapped out the floor plan of this suite, though some areas were still blank, he had the general structure down.
But Jiang Xiao still pretended he couldn’t remember the layout. His knee bumped the edge of a table. The pain made him hiss softly.
Bo Xiting glanced up, saw this, and seemed about to speak.
The main door opened. Qin Guan’s complaining voice drifted in. “I asked the butler to turn on the underfloor heating. It should warm up soon. Such a big villa, and they won’t even turn on the heat… Jiang Xiao, why are you standing there alone? Your hand is bleeding! Who did this?!”
Bo Xiting lowered his eyes again, returning to his book.
Qin Guan didn’t have any band-aids, let alone gauze. He had to make do, taking Jiang Xiao to rinse the wound with water first.
“How did you do this? The cut is pretty deep. If you don’t treat it fast, you’ll lose a lot of blood…” Qin Guan rambled on, more nagging than he’d ever been in his life. Jiang Xiao, however, remained silent.
Qin Guan looked up. “Are you even listening…”
Jiang Xiao, however, was slightly lowering his head, seemingly sniffing the scent on Qin Guan’s collar. But he couldn’t see anything, and his nose accidentally brushed against Qin Guan’s neck.
Qin Guan reacted as if he’d received a massive fright, freezing completely, but his breathing quickened.
“W-What are you doing?!”
Qin Guan’s face turned red, and his neck was surely flushing too. But Jiang Xiao couldn’t see it. He calmly pulled back, acting as if nothing had happened, his tone curious.
“What brand of laundry detergent do you use? It smells pretty nice.”
“…Is now really the time for that?” Qin Guan managed to choke out, unsure if he felt more relieved or disappointed.
Probably more disappointed.
Jiang Xiao said, “Just asking. Does it bother you? Can’t you tell me?”
Qin Guan gave a brand name and added, “If you like it, you can use mine back at the dorm.”
“Sure.” Jiang Xiao smiled in agreement. The water was freezing, numbing his fingers. He raised his hand to turn off the faucet, but his fingers touched soft hair.
He subconsciously stroked it, reminded of a curly-haired puppy he once had. It was fierce, barking at any stranger who approached, but whenever he came, it would nuzzle against his trouser leg.
Qin Guan: “…Is it nice to pet?”
Qin Guan was known around school for being tough. Not just in fights; no one usually dared to provoke him. One look from him could scare someone’s head off. Saying you’d touch Qin Guan’s hair was like plucking fur from a tiger’s rear.
“Your hair is quite curly,” Jiang Xiao couldn’t explain the action, so he offered some dry praise. “Do you usually perm it?”
“No.”
“Then you’re naturally gifted.”
The topic had veered into strange territory.
Qin Guan cleared his throat and got to business. “Your phone rang earlier. The caller ID was ‘1’.”
Jiang Xiao made an “Mm” sound.
Who would be calling him at this time?
“And another thing…” Qin Guan’s expression turned serious. “The power’s out here.”
Qin Guan had wanted to watch TV but found there was no electricity. He had to settle for the radio. When he asked downstairs, they said the blizzard was too strong, the power lines were snapped, and repairs were in progress.
Jiang Xiao was thoughtful.
A power outage…
“Done.” Qin Guan turned off the faucet. “I’ll go ask downstairs if they have iodine and bandages.”
Jiang Xiao nodded.
Qin Guan deliberately seated Jiang Xiao on the sofa furthest from the other two. Jiang Xiao said, “Help me call back that person who just called.”
Qin Guan swiped the screen open and asked casually, “Lock screen password?”
“…” Jiang Xiao said calmly, “Never mind, I’ll call later. You go find that iodine first.”
A new problem had emerged.
Jiang Xiao had absolutely no idea what the lock screen password was. If he just guessed wildly and got it wrong, it would likely raise suspicion.
And he couldn’t even try passwords himself!
Jiang Xiao sang internally: “Who can lend me a pair of discerning eyes~ System, can you?”
The System just watched his performance silently and refused coldly.
…System, you have a heart of stone!
Logic dictated it was usually a birthday—either his or Wen Xu’s.
It probably wouldn’t be one of the ex-boyfriends’.
No one would use an ex’s birthday as their lock screen unless they wanted to eat the grass on the other side of the fence.
But whether that grass even wanted to be eaten was another matter. That grass probably just wanted him dead.
The grass was also poisonous.
Now he could only hope that “1” would call again.
Someone seemed to be walking around, though Jiang Xiao didn’t know who.
Jiang Xiao paid it no mind, continuing his thoughts.
His sniffing of Qin Guan earlier wasn’t intentional flirting, even if the action seemed abrupt in hindsight.
Luckily, Qin Guan was too startled to likely overthink it.
To quickly identify each person’s characteristics, scent was the most direct evidence. Wen Xu smelled of a clean, sweet fruity scent. Ying Weizhu was roses. He had just made a point of smelling Qin Guan—laundry detergent, no other scents.
And in the storage room earlier, before leaving, he intentionally sniffed the jacket Bo Xiting left on his bag.
Laundry detergent as well.
Very similar to the scent on Qin Guan, possibly even the same brand.
This man was simply too aloof, keeping as far away as possible. Getting a word in was difficult, so Jiang Xiao had to settle for an alternative.
But it wasn’t that unusual. Most male students rarely used cologne. Flashy guys like Ying Weizhu were the minority. Even Wen Xu’s scent wasn’t perfume; his clothes all had that faint aroma, possibly from a fabric scent.
And Qin Guan and Bo Xiting’s personalities were so different, Jiang Xiao wouldn’t have trouble distinguishing them.
Finally, Jiang Xiao opened the luggage he shared with Wen Xu. Wen Xu had packed for both of them in one large suitcase. Ever thorough, Wen Xu included clothes and daily necessities.
Which meant there was basically nothing.
Finding unusual items among a collection of mundane daily products was difficult enough, let alone when Jiang Xiao could only roughly guess object shapes by touch. It was even harder.
And indeed, inside were just bottles, jars, and soft clothes. After feeling around and finding nothing strange, he had no choice but to close the suitcase again.
The biggest suspicious point right now was solely Ying Weizhu’s knife.
Had his extended time alone in the storage room made Ying Weizhu suspicious?
…Why wasn’t Wen Xu back yet?
To the current Jiang Xiao, Wen Xu might be the only one who genuinely wouldn’t harm him, the only one who could protect him.
Footsteps approached.
Jiang Xiao was lost in thought when he sensed someone standing before him. He instinctively said, “Who is it? …Ying Weizhu?”
The only one who would proactively approach him now seemed to be Ying Weizhu.
But Ying Weizhu probably wouldn’t be this silent.
Jiang Xiao felt a strange premonition.
With a rip, someone tore open a package. The ambient temperature seemed to drop with his arrival. His tone was flat.
“Hand.”
It wasn’t Ying Weizhu, but…
“Senior?”
Suppressing his disbelief, Jiang Xiao realized the person moving around earlier was Bo Xiting. He must have gone to the storage room to get the band-aids.
What was this all about?
Though inwardly astonished, after consideration, Jiang Xiao shook his head and declined Bo Xiting’s rare gesture of goodwill.
“Qin Guan already went to find the butler. No need to trouble you, Senior.”
He thought he understood now why Bo Xiting had approached him.
Because earlier, he’d asked Bo Xiting to accompany him to the storage room, and Bo Xiting refused. And he had been injured in the storage room.
It was a logical conclusion: a blind person, groping around, would inevitably encounter something sharp.
Bo Xiting likely felt it was his fault Jiang Xiao got hurt.
What a… kind person.
So, Bo Xiting wasn’t someone yielding to softness or hardness.
He yielded to self-inflicted suffering!
He fell for the pity play!
Jiang Xiao’s heart pounded as he finally found a way to approach Bo Xiting.
If you found someone’s weakness, things got easier.
“Not needed?”
Jiang Xiao said decisively, “Not needed. It was just an accident.”
He needed Bo Xiting to feel guilt. Or rather, he had to exploit Bo Xiting’s kindness to get more clues. This was an excellent breakthrough point.
He’d be unlikely to get such a good opportunity again.
Bo Xiting looked down, his dark green pupils fixed on Jiang Xiao, containing some deep, unreadable emotion.
Ying Weizhu sat leisurely on a bar stool, watching the scene with a half-smile.
Bo Xiting placed one hand on the sofa, leaning down closer to Jiang Xiao, yet still maintaining a subtle distance, not touching him.
Warm breath, accompanied by a whisper, fell into Jiang Xiao’s ear, a volume meant for him alone—
“Did you think I couldn’t tell that was a knife wound?”
