Chapter 67: Before Dawn (6)
At the end of the call, Tang Cuo instructed Qi Hui to tell Zhou Dahai to find a way to investigate the attic. The fact that Zhou Dahai had been trapped in a mere basement for so long and frightened half to death by the non-aggressive ghost of Yu Wangyue proved he wasn’t particularly reliable.
“Let’s sort out the current character relationships and timelines first.” Tang Cuo turned away, took out the cloth bag, and brought out the items he had gathered from the study and Yu Wangyue’s room one by one.
The three of them sat in a circle by the telephone. When Tang Cuo first began his analysis, Qi Hui could follow along, but as he went further, Qi Hui grew increasingly confused until he had to ask a question.
“Wait, I can understand the maid wanting to climb into the master’s bed, but how is the dismemberment case related to the maid?”
Since they were teammates—grasshoppers tied to the same string, anyway—Tang Cuo patiently took out the half slip of paper found behind the mirror and the old fountain pen from the maid’s room. “Write two words.”
Suspicious, Qi Hui casually wrote two words. The writing wasn’t very smooth because the nib of the old fountain pen was slightly split, causing it to catch on the paper when writing hooked strokes.
But what did this mean?
Qi Hui looked closely at the characters on the half slip of paper, compared the two, and finally noticed the anomaly. The writing on the slip looked like it was produced by this very same broken fountain pen. If that was the case, the maid was indeed a suspect.
“But maybe she was writing on someone’s behalf? Shouldn’t a maid be closer to the Madam? The Madam was sick; maybe she was too weak to hold a pen,” Qi Hui asked.
“But this handwriting looks traced. The pauses in the strokes are unnatural,” Tang Cuo said. The way a person writes smoothly from their own mind is different from tracing someone else’s strokes. If the maid was merely writing on the Madam’s behalf, there would be absolutely no need to deliberately forge the Madam’s handwriting.
The maid secretly hid the old fountain pen and forged the Madam’s letters to carry out an illicit affair with the person in the attic, all for the sake of taking the Madam’s position. This aligned with her motive of carefully dressing up to seduce the master before her death. Unfortunately, the master didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture and killed her with a single shot.
Blinking, Qi Hui followed Tang Cuo’s train of thought. “Then was the note being discovered by the guest also a deliberate setup? Family scandals shouldn’t be aired to outsiders. If an outsider learned of this, the Madam would definitely die a horrible death.”
Tang Cuo didn’t answer, but when solving a case, he never held back from using the utmost malice to speculate on a criminal’s psychology. The maid definitely played a disgraceful role in this affair, but she also underestimated the master’s love for his Madam.
Even if that love was already tainted with endless hatred.
“Yu Wangnian’s diary was dropped near the maid’s corpse. Many pages are ruined by blood, but a few are still legible.” Tang Cuo picked up the diary, flipped to one of the pages, and read aloud: “June 24, 1924. I hate her, but I still love her. I know her heart might not be with me, but she will certainly be buried in the same place as me.”
“Yikes.” Hearing this declaration that sounded straight out of a melodramatic, edgy romance, Qi Hui didn’t know what to say.
Jin Cheng smiled knowingly. “Do you think June 24, 1924, is the timeline you two were in?”
Tang Cuo nodded. “Exactly.”
Qi Hui was more curious about the convoluted, multi-angled love affair. “So, did the Madam and Yu Wangyue—or the person in the attic—actually have… uh, a love that crossed the line?”
Jin Cheng shrugged. “If they didn’t, then Yu Wangnian turned his home into an iron cage, poisoned his own wife, and locked someone in the attic. He’s practically a Republican-era An Jiahe.”
Qi Hui: “An Jiahe? Who???”
Tang Cuo: “Don’t Talk to Strangers.”
Hearing this, Qi Hui finally remembered that childhood nightmare of a TV drama. Even as a man, he couldn’t help but shiver.
Tang Cuo then took out the family portrait of four and continued, “On January 3, 1923, all four members of the Yu Residence were alive and well, at least seemingly harmonious. Still in 1923, on December 25, Yu Wangyue died. His older brother Yu Wangnian set up a mourning hall for him in the basement, yet spread news in the papers that he had gone abroad to study. Clearly, Yu Wangyue’s death was covered up. On June 24, 1924, a guest discovered the maid’s note, stumbled upon the dark secrets of the Yu Residence, and was subsequently silenced.”
Jin Cheng picked up the thread: “In 1926, the maid failed her seduction and was killed instead. It’s reasonable to suspect Yu Wangnian already knew the note was a forgery. Even if he was too blinded by rage to inspect it carefully when the incident happened, it was his wife’s handwriting—the person he was most familiar with. He’d rather kill someone than let the matter spread, and he rejected the maid’s attempts to climb into his bed. He wouldn’t have gone that long without realizing the handwriting was fake.”
A dual cause led to the maid’s death. Before dying, she saw Yu Wangnian’s diary and realized that no matter how hard she tried, she could never achieve her goal. She might have practically died from sheer fury.
Tang Cuo: “The butler is Yu Wangnian’s confidant, and he was involved in everything. That much is beyond doubt. The Madam must have also had someone in this Yu Residence who could run errands for her, and that person was highly likely the middle-aged maid. Although she’s greedy and steals things, being greedy means she can be used.”
Qi Hui: “What did she do for the Madam?”
Tang Cuo: “Pass notes.”
Qi Hui: “Didn’t you say the maid forged them???”
Tang Cuo looked up at Jin Cheng. Jin Cheng instantly understood his meaning. As the two exchanged glances, Qi Hui was completely lost.
Jin Cheng was in a good mood, so he took the initiative to explain: “Didn’t I mention it earlier? In this 1926 timeline, there was a torn piece of paper in the attic. It was written by Lin Wan to Yu Wangyue, saying she would let him out.”
Tang Cuo nodded. That note was actually one of the strongest proofs that the young maid had forged the letters, because the signatures were different. One was a deliberately affectionate “Your Wanwan,” while the other was simply “Lin Wan.”
Judging by the ghost of Lin Wan’s attitude toward Yu Wangyue, even if there were feelings between them, it leaned toward being entirely one-sided on Lin Wan’s part. If there were no special romantic feelings, then Lin Wan acted out of guilt.
“This proves one more thing,” Tang Cuo said. “Yu Wangnian definitely concealed the news of Yu Wangyue’s death, because even Lin Wan thought the real Yu Wangyue was locked in the attic.”
Qi Hui: “Then who is the one in the attic?”
Jin Cheng tilted his head, thinking. “A body double?”
Then that body double had it way too miserable, Qi Hui sincerely mourned for him.
At this point, Jin Cheng told Qi Hui to get up and make the call again. After trying twice, it finally connected. On the other end, Zhou Dahai was panting heavily from running, but he finally brought them a relatively useful clue.
“There are no tally marks under the bed, but there’s blood in the cracks of the attic floor. When I crawled under the bed to look, I also found a used needle syringe. There’s medicine in the drawer too, but the only one I recognize is aspirin.”
Aspirin was Western medicine. During the Republic of China era, it relied entirely on imports, making it extremely expensive and difficult to obtain. Tang Cuo didn’t think Yu Wangnian would be nice enough to provide that to a mere body double. Combined with the absence of tally marks under the bed, it meant the person previously locked in the attic was indeed Yu Wangyue.
The attic occupant was locked in after him, and the timeline matched up.
But which unlucky bastard had such terrible luck? And what was his connection to this story?
Without another word, Zhou Dahai went to continue searching for clues.
Tang Cuo picked up the work booklet he found on the butler’s corpse. The booklet was very small, so it only recorded matters from the past month, and the wording was extremely concise.
Reviewing it carefully, Tang Cuo finally spotted something interesting.
January 6: Changed to new medicine for Madam. Reinforced doors and windows.
January 7: Recruited new maid.
Two consecutive days of records at the very end of the booklet. This indicated that January 7 might be the butler’s time of death—which was today.
Of course, it could also be January 8.
Changing the medicine, reinforcing doors and windows, recruiting a new maid—these three events all pointed to one piece of information: Lin Wan’s intention to free the attic occupant had been leaked.
Jin Cheng said, “Looking at it this way, the maid might be the earliest victim of the 1926 massacre. Her actions enraged Yu Wangnian. He couldn’t bear to kill his own wife, so he killed the servant.”
Deep in thought, Tang Cuo largely agreed with this deduction.
The maid’s death was perhaps the final straw that broke the camel’s back. The bedridden Lin Wan, waiting endlessly for her return, must have realized her plan was exposed. Furthermore, the new medicine was undoubtedly much stronger. Lin Wan died in despair, transforming into a malicious spirit.
However, Lin Wan’s cause of death remained suspect, because her ghost bore visible external wounds; she absolutely didn’t die simply from a change in medicine.
The young maid wouldn’t have killed the Madam before successfully climbing into the master’s bed. The middle-aged maid and the butler were even less likely. The person in the attic was still locked up. So who killed Lin Wan?
Who killed her to make her harbor such immense resentment?
Tang Cuo increasingly felt the story was developing in an extremely dark direction. Flipping further back in the booklet, he noticed another entry.
August 8: Miss said she wanted to play the piano. I secretly found a new piano teacher for her, but lied and said Miss was going to German class.
This entry was very peculiar, because the butler was a man so rigid he was boring. All his other records were concise and to the point; only this one detailed the cause and effect, even revealing a hint of emotion.
It was clearly something done in secret, yet he still recorded it completely. Why? Was it out of guilt, so he simply left the lie exposed where Yu Wangnian could find it, awaiting the judgment of fate?
However, his intentions weren’t important. What mattered was—the Miss was learning the piano.
There was clearly a piano room in the house, yet she had to secretly learn outside. This indicated that learning the piano was taboo in the Yu Residence. On one hand, it was because of the midnight piano music; on the other hand, was it because of the previous piano teacher?
The butler’s wording was also interesting: “a new piano teacher.” That meant there had definitely been one before.
“The one locked in the attic?” Jin Cheng raised an eyebrow.
“If your body double theory holds true, Yu Wangyue knew how to play the piano, and the piano teacher also knew how to play. Assuming the Yu Residence previously had a piano teacher, in a wealthy household like this, the teacher would definitely come to the house to teach,” Tang Cuo said.
Another corner of the story was filled in.
However, these were currently just speculations without solid proof. Tang Cuo packed up the large pile of items and decided to return to Yu Wangyue’s room to take another look.
He had rushed downstairs earlier and hadn’t searched it very thoroughly. Furthermore, with Yu Wangyue present, it served as a temporary safe zone.
Qi Hui was left behind to guard the telephone again.
Guarding the phone was a tedious and terrifying job. Although there wasn’t a malicious spirit like Lin Wan on the first floor, minor ghosts floated back and forth in their respective areas, sometimes even dropping by to “visit.”
Jin Cheng had given Qi Hui a little incense ash for self-defense, but it did nothing to alleviate his fear, because he saw Yu Wangnian’s ghost poking its head out near the cupboard.
Whenever he looked at Yu Wangnian now, he thought of An Jiahe. The lightbulb overhead was still flickering. The increasingly dim and eerie environment, paired with the occasional whimpering from the second floor, sent chills straight up from the soles of his feet.
Qi Hui could only dial the phone frantically, continuously trying whenever no one answered. As he dialed, he started to sense something was wrong.
Where was Zhou Dahai?
If Yu Wangyue’s ghost wasn’t aggressive, then the timeline Zhou Dahai was in should be relatively safe. Even if he was in the middle of searching for clues and missed the first and second calls, what about the third?
What about the fourth?
“Something happened to Zhou Dahai!” Qi Hui hurriedly shouted upstairs.
Meanwhile, in Zhou Dahai’s timeline.
A dagger gleaming with cold light was pressed against the back of Zhou Dahai’s neck. His whole body went stiff, not daring to look back. “Who are you? A player or an NPC? What do you want?”
The newcomer had a raspy smoker’s voice, making it impossible to determine his exact age. “You don’t need to know. As long as you cooperate obediently and don’t make any sudden moves, I won’t kill you.”
Zhou Dahai quickly raised both hands. “I won’t move! I promise I won’t move!”
The person behind me is definitely a player.
While Zhou Dahai thought this, he couldn’t figure out if the person had originally been in this timeline or had crossed over from another. The intel he got from Qi Hui was limited, leaving him completely in the dark.
Behind his back, out of sight, the newcomer pulled out a pocket watch. With his five fingers spread, the watch dangled and swayed naturally. The sound of tick-tock, tick-tock instantly rang out. Zhou Dahai couldn’t see it, but the image of a clock face rapidly spinning materialized in his mind.
The hour hand, minute hand, and second hand spun faster and faster, blurring into afterimages.
Zhou Dahai’s mind went hazy, nearly getting lost in this illusion of time, until—
Bong!
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed the hour. It was midnight.
The eerie yet cheerful Song of Gods, Lambs, and Crows also drifted from the piano room on the second floor at this exact moment. That familiar melody sent goosebumps erupting all over Zhou Dahai’s body, instantly restoring clarity to his mind.
For a moment, he didn’t understand what had just happened, but then he suddenly realized the dagger at his neck was gone.
Looking back, the uninvited guest had vanished as well.
“Mother of god,” Zhou Dahai wiped a layer of cold sweat.
Back on the other side, Qi Hui wasn’t having an easy time either. He didn’t know exactly how many teammates had entered this instance, and the only one he could contact—Zhou Dahai—was in danger, leaving him burning with anxiety.
Tang Cuo frowned in deep thought, while Jin Cheng narrowed his eyes, seeming to have realized something, his sharp gaze sweeping the surroundings. Seeing this, Tang Cuo shot him an inquiring look.
Jin Cheng blinked twice in response.
Tang Cuo understood, but Qi Hui didn’t, and he couldn’t help but feel utterly distressed—What time is it?! Why are you big bosses still making eyes at each other?!
Currently, there were fifty-six minutes left until midnight in 1926.
Qi Hui’s anxiety didn’t last long, because Jin Cheng suddenly turned around, faced the empty living room and the direction of the second floor, and said loudly, “Rong Yi, stop hiding. Come out.”
No one answered.
Jin Cheng crossed his arms and asked with a smile, “Are you trying to pull a sneak attack like Meng Yufei, who was still wetting the bed at five years old?”
Hearing Meng Yufei’s name, Qi Hui only felt it sounded familiar. Right at that moment, a figure appeared at the corner of the stairs, stepping slowly into their line of sight.
Qi Hui’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected someone to actually be hiding there!
Rong Yi!
He remembered who this was—Ranked second on the Red Board!
Another “Holy shit” nearly slipped from Qi Hui’s mouth, but he forcefully held it back.
Jin Cheng sized Rong Yi up with a half-smile. Glancing at the pocket watch in Rong Yi’s hand, he said, “I was wondering who was hiding so insidiously. Turns out it’s you. Ranked second on the Red Board, the grand Time Controller—is it really necessary to do this?”
Rong Yi’s expression was cold, but his coldness was different from Leng Miao’s. Leng Miao was cold from his name to his very core, whereas Rong Yi’s coldness was tinged with sorrow.
He wore a bitter expression, looking as though he carried the weight of the nation and its people on his shoulders. You couldn’t find a single trace of joy on him.
“When the target is you, it’s necessary.” When Rong Yi spoke, his raspy voice carried a natural world-weary effect. He stopped on the stairs, refusing to come down, fully expressing his wariness of Jin Cheng through his actions. Then, he said, “Let’s make a deal. Of the three known timelines, excluding this one, all the others have been adjusted to twelve o’clock. The piano music has already passed; the only thing left is dawn.”
Jin Cheng smiled. “And so?”
Rong Yi: “You two still don’t know the exact coordinates of the other two timelines, do you? If I adjust the time here to twelve o’clock as well, you’ll completely lose any way to travel to the other timelines.”
Jin Cheng countered, “Do you think you’d even have the chance to make a move with me here?”
“But right here, you can’t kill me either. As long as you can’t kill me, I have the chance to make a move.” As Rong Yi spoke, his gaze fell upon Tang Cuo. “Do you think this partner of yours can find the exact time coordinates before I act?”
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Author’s Note:
Jin Cheng: Teacher, someone is cheating here!
