Chi Qing was not good at comforting people.
He was usually quite inept with his words, and at this moment, he was even more at a loss for what to say.
If this had been Ji Mingrui or anyone else, he wouldn’t have even considered whether there would be any issue with his upcoming statement. But this person was Xie Lin; he simply could not help but care. It was a rare occurrence for him to mentally run through a rehearsal in his head before speaking.
It felt like any words that came out of his mouth would sound wrong.
It seemed he couldn’t say it that way.
Consequently, Chi Qing simply shut his mouth. Standing beside the sofa, he leaned down and continued to slide the remote control out of Xie Lin’s hand millimeter by millimeter. Once it was out, he pressed the power button, turning the television off.
The dim room returned to silence.
The distance between the two of them was incredibly close; in an instant, only each other’s light, shallow breathing could be heard.
Xie Lin was still immersed in the dream he had just experienced. It was actually not the first time he had had such a dream, but far too many things had happened recently. Upon waking up, his right eyelid had twitched uncontrollably. This kind of “ominous” premonition made him feel rather uncomfortable.
Xie Lin pressed his fingers against his eyelid, intending to let himself calm down, when a sudden warmth bloomed upon his lips.
A warm, soft sensation pressed against them completely unawares.
Xie Lin’s hand resting on his eyelid paused, not even having time to move away. “You……”
Before he could finish his words, he felt Chi Qing’s lips pull back slightly. Those overly red lips parted fractionally, uttering three words: “Want to kiss you.”
“……”
Chi Qing could not read Xie Lin’s expression at this moment. He hesitated for a second. “Is that not allowed?”
Only then did Xie Lin’s hand move away. With his wrist drooping, resting against the cushion beside him, he looked straight at Chi Qing. Because the man was lying down, the light-colored sweater he wore looked even looser and more casual. Wearing a look that practically invited the other to do as he pleased, he said, “Permission granted. Continue kissing.”
……
Once this sort of thing was spoken aloud so brazenly, its nature changed entirely.
It was very difficult for Chi Qing to brace himself and press forward a second time.
Xie Lin discerned his wavering. Just as Chi Qing wanted to retreat a bit, Xie Lin directly grabbed his wrist, dragging Chi Qing’s entire person forward onto him.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to kiss me?” Xie Lin said, pinching his chin. “Why are you running?”
“……”
“This counts as having finished kissing?”
Chi Qing wore an expression that clearly said, ‘Anyway, I’ve already kissed you, so unhand me right now.’
Xie Lin let out a scoff. “Pathetic.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Xie Lin’s hand pinching Chi Qing’s chin tightened, pulling the person closer into himself. Then, approaching him with an overwhelming sense of pressure, his words were swallowed amidst the intertwining of their lips and teeth: “……The one just now doesn’t count.”
The night grew deep and heavy. Little Star had originally been sleeping hidden behind the curtain. Having slept its fill, it stretched its back, pried the curtain open with its small paws, and strode out with a languid pace—only to halt mid-step, stumbling upon a sight it shouldn’t have seen.
It saw the hand of its male owner surnamed Chi drooping down. The hand that usually wore a glove was completely bare, gleaming fair in the darkness of the night. The knuckles of that hand were tightly tensed, and the sweater had been tugged up a bit, allowing a faint glimpse of the man’s tightly tensed, smoothly contoured back.
It couldn’t see the full picture, only catching a muffled, indistinct sentence: “Wasn’t it…… just a kiss…… you……”
And then that rather annoying shoveler of feces surnamed Xie said in a low voice: “My apologies, failed to restrain myself.”
The world of humans was truly difficult for a cat to comprehend.
Little Star watched for a couple of seconds, then turned around to head to the balcony to eat its cat food.
Chi Qing was forced to take another shower. By the time he lay on the bed, he was thoroughly exhausted, yet before closing his eyes, he still didn’t forget to use his moisture-laden hand to touch Xie Lin’s.
He wanted to know how Xie Lin’s mood was right now.
Whether it had improved a bit.
Was he still troubled by that dream?
How could Xie Lin fail to perceive his intentions? He closed his eyes and allowed him to test the waters.
【……】
In Chi Qing’s ears, there was still only the ticking sound of the clock rotating within the bedroom; he heard nothing else, and no distorted inner voices surfaced.
Thus, Chi Qing released the final string of his tension and drifted into a heavy sleep.
However, ten-odd minutes later, Xie Lin—who had seemingly “fallen asleep” right along with Chi Qing—opened his eyes.
He had deliberately controlled his thoughts, not to avoid Chi Qing, but purely to let Chi Qing sleep earlier.
Xie Lin lay on the bed with his eyes open for a moment, then noiselessly slipped into his clothes and stood up.
Having stayed at Chi Qing’s home for so long, he was already highly adapted to the dark environment where no lights were turned on. Groping his way through the corridor, he fished a key out of the key basket at the entrance hall—this was the one the landlord of 1301 had left for them during the day.
The empty elevator in the dead of night resembled a silent, colossal beast, resting quietly without a single trace of movement.
Until a hand pressed the elevator button.
Only then did the elevator roar to life, ascending vertically and rapidly along its tracks.
Ding.
A few minutes later, Xie Lin stood entirely alone before the entrance of 1301.
After delivering him upstairs, the elevator doors slowly slid shut behind him.
The man stood in the deserted, long corridor draped in a thin black coat, a silver key hooked around the tip of his finger.
In front of him sat an apartment where someone might have died.
An apartment where a “major suspect” had resided.
The occupant of 1302 next door had caught wind of the news from somewhere and had already moved out of this building overnight; the shoe rack that was once packed tightly by the doorway was now completely emptied out. However, this family’s departure wasn’t solely due to the matter of 1301; the previous tenant case and the elevator incident had also contributed significantly.
For residents on the 13th floor, climbing up and down the stairs every day was obviously unrealistic. It hadn’t been easy for them to endure a lift where someone had died and continue living down here for this long, let alone the fact that a psychopathic killer had once entered this building—the type who specifically “stole” keys to enter other people’s homes.
Xie Lin cast a casual glance over that completely empty red shoe rack, the expression on his face unchanging in the slightest.
He seemed not to find appearing here alone in the middle of the night a dangerous affair at all; in fact, he looked entirely at ease, as though he were “returning” to his own home.
Xie Lin didn’t have a definitive reason why he had to come here; it was purely because he couldn’t sleep, and it just so happened that Ji Mingrui had left the key with them before leaving, so he had a spontaneous urge to come up and take a look.
He vaguely felt that some clue had been overlooked by him.
Xie Lin stood at the doorway, staring directly at that black peephole without any evasion, spinning the key hooked on his hand in circles.
The clinking sound of the keys echoed crisply.
When a person did anything, the purpose of their actions was the most important factor.
Committing a crime was no different.
Knowing the purpose allowed one to deduce a great deal.
……
Therefore, putting aside all the details of the case, putting aside that so-called sense of ritual and the bystanders who died tragic deaths, after peeling back the layers, his purpose was actually only one: the “Priest” had been searching for someone all along.
Since he was searching for someone, then all the information he currently exposed must revolve around this objective. In other words, he wanted to find “that person,” and he also wanted “that person” to find him.
Thinking this way, Xie Lin lifted the key and opened the door.
The moment the door opened, the lock let out a sharp click.
The furnishings inside the room were identical to what he had seen during the day. The power supply wasn’t turned on, making the inside of the apartment look even darker than his partner’s home.
Facing a room filled with pitch-black darkness, Xie Lin slowly closed his eyes at the doorway and then opened them. He projected himself into the shoes of that “Priest,” imagining the “Priest” walking inside this house, passing by the kitchen, crossing the living room, scanning through every single item one by one.
Still, there was nothing.
But it was impossible for there to be nothing.
Since this chess move had been played, there must be a reason for it.
The “Priest” was a person who acted with great fanfare, disdaining to remind those few offending “disciples,” wantonly setting fire to burn the church, and clearly knowing the danger yet still visibly binding people inside the church… He had even lived in the closest place to them, staying for half a year.
Therefore, if he wanted to transmit some sort of clue, he likely wouldn’t choose to deliberately conceal it.
The clue must be in the most obvious place, but it was glaringly obvious that this place had been consistently overlooked by them.
“The most obvious… yet the easiest place to overlook…”
Xie Lin stood in the center of the living room, the darkness almost threatening to engulf him. Suddenly, something crossed his mind. He slowly turned his body around, his gaze ultimately landing upon the coffee table.
All personal items had already been cleared out, but the original furniture and appliances remained.
Beside the coffee table sat a landline telephone, its spiral, coiled cord drooping messily to one side.
It was placed in the most conspicuous spot, yet aside from fingerprint lifting, no one had paid attention to it again.
They had also forgotten the most critical point… which was that it could be used for communication.
Xie Lin stood before that landline phone for a long time, and then he reached out his hand to lift the receiver—as a property owner in the same residential community, no one knew better than Xie Lin that this model of landline possessed a recording function.
He brought the receiver close to his ear, and then pressed the button to play the recordings.
Following a beep, a voice drifted out from the receiver.
That low, raspy voice said: “Hi.”
Xie Lin thought to himself that his guess was correct; it really was the landline phone.
This “Hi” was identical to the “Hi” left upon the church walls.
Nowadays, very few people used landline phones to record messages since everyone relied on mobile phones to communicate, which was why this detail had been missed.
If this hadn’t been a recording, Xie Lin estimated he might have even smiled and returned a “Hi” to him.
The recording continued to play.
The voice spoke further down: “Hello there, I have a secret I’d like to tell you.”
“Even though ten years have already passed,” the voice suddenly let out a raspy, cackling laugh. His tone was already bizarre to begin with, and laughing like this made it sound even more sinister, completely unlike a sound a human could emit. After laughing for a short moment, he abruptly uttered a sentence that caused Xie Lin’s fingers to instantly tighten: “But… do you truly believe so naively that your brother’s death was an accident?”
Beep—
The recording finished playing.
All sound ground to a sudden halt.
