Chapter 277: Among Three, There Must Be a Corpse

2022-05-20

My mind was a complete mess. I couldn’t come up with an answer. I always felt that everything in this world could be negotiated somehow.

But both Team Leader Shao and Zhao Mingkun kept showing me that some things just don’t have any wiggle room. Like when you run out of thick noodles, that’s it, there are no more thick noodles. Same for fish balls—when they’re gone, they’re gone. Some things are final. No matter how many times you ask, the answer never changes.

“Mm.” I didn’t confirm or deny, just made a perfunctory noise at Zhao Mingkun.

I tried to stand up, but Zhao Mingkun grabbed my hand. “Wait a second. Look, the stars are out.”

I lay back down and looked up. Sure enough, night had fallen and the sky was already dotted with stars. When I was little, I loved lying on the rooftop watching the stars alone. Sometimes, I’d get so into it that I’d try to count them one by one. Only in those moments would I forget the unhappy things, feeling like everything had gone peaceful again.

“Have you heard this?” Zhao Mingkun started talking. “After someone dies, they become a star in the night sky. The more people miss you, the brighter your star shines. The moment no one misses you anymore, your star just fades away into the sea of stars. I don’t know how many stars appeared because of me. I just know that if I died, that star of mine would be awfully dim. I wonder how many people miss the brightest star?”

I’ve always been a hardcore atheist, so there’s no way I’d really believe people turn into stars. But it suddenly made sense to me—ghosts, gods, fairy tales or fantasies—they’re all just stories lonely people tell other lonely people.

“Yeah, he must’ve done a lot that made people think of him,” I said softly.

“Let’s go!” Zhao Mingkun stood up. “We’ve still got some time now. We can go find Wang Yikai. Wang Xianduo’s case is probably going to pull your colleagues in, too. And if they figure things out, then there’s nothing left for us to do.”

It was about half past six. After talking with Wang Yikai, we confirmed he was at home. We had to find a new way to get there, so we agreed to meet under his building at eight. Sure enough, by seven, Zhao Mingkun had another motorbike ready, wheeling it over with a grin. Honestly, I was starting to wonder if she had a boyfriend at a motorbike factory.

That night, the four guys from Wang Yikai’s dorm were headed to a bathhouse and spa. Zhang Yifa, Cheng Lu, and Sun Shouwang went ahead, while Wang Yikai, after getting our call, was going to be late. We met up with him below his building, then he drove us all to the spa.

According to Wang Yikai, after what happened last night, none of them slept a wink. They were still rattled even now. Tonight, Zhang Yifa was treating them all, hoping everyone could relax a little. And if all the brothers stuck together, they figured no ghost would dare get close with all that positive energy around.

Looking at Luo Ding’s notebook, Wang Yikai was the most suspicious of the bunch. And according to Wang Xianduo, Liang Mei had also gone behind the construction site. If we could confirm whether Wang Yikai or Liang Mei met Lü Zhiqiu first, we could probably cut some people off the suspect list.

While Wang Yikai was driving, I asked, “Wang Yikai, back at Huangjia Garden Hotel, you seemed to be hiding something. Care to clear it up now?”

He turned to look at me in the front passenger seat. “What do you mean? Help jog my memory?”

I pulled Luo Ding’s notebook from my pocket. “Luo Ding wrote down a lot of things. If you say them yourself, it won’t be as embarrassing. But if we bring it up, you’ll be on the defensive. You get it?”

The moment he saw the notebook, Wang Yikai’s face changed. He frowned. “That’s Luo Ding’s notebook?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” I said. “It’s about the clothes.”

At that, Wang Yikai’s hands trembled and the car swerved a little. After a moment, he gripped the steering wheel tight again. He glanced at me for a long time before finally saying, “We’re almost at the bathhouse. If you’re free later, come by my place. I’ll tell you everything about that.”

He seemed pretty serious, too calm—which made me a little suspicious. If he really did it, who’s to say he wouldn’t lure us to his place and get rid of us?

When it came to murder, Zhao Mingkun sounded way more professional. She said quietly, “Oh? So that’s what was poking me.”

Wang Yikai quickly shook his head. “Hey, don’t get the wrong idea! Even if you gave me a hundred guts, I wouldn’t dare kill anyone in my own home. There are people who can vouch for me. I want you to catch the real killer, too. That’s the only way those thirteen people won’t end up dead.”

Looking at Wang Yikai, he really didn’t seem like he was lying. But yesterday, he clearly had zero patience for us. How did he become so cooperative overnight?

“We’re here.” Wang Yikai parked the car and told us, “Ask whatever you want when we get to my place. But my friends are here now. So if you want to talk about the clothes, keep it to yourself. Otherwise, I’d rather be haunted by ghosts than tell you what I know.”

I laughed, realizing that’s what was bothering him. According to Zhao Mingkun’s notes, Wang Yikai managed a design company and was pretty popular with the ladies.

“Alright,” I said. “As long as you cooperate.”

“Of course I’ll cooperate,” he replied.

When we entered the spa, Wang Yikai gave the receptionist a room number, and a female staffer led us through the halls. She kept sneaking looks at Zhao Mingkun, probably wondering why anyone would bring a woman here. When she got to the door, she knocked and called out softly, “Gentlemen, your friends are here.”

No one answered.

She knocked again, just as gently. “Gentlemen, your friends have arrived.”

Still dead silence.

“They got here around five, right?” Wang Yikai asked.

The receptionist nodded. “That’s right. I was the one who brought them in.”

Wang Yikai nodded, then turned to us. “They were here by six. I was late because I waited at home for you. Guess they gave up waiting and just crashed. Probably asleep by now.”

With that, he thumped on the door, calling out, “Hey Old Zhang, Old Cheng, Old Sun! Open up! It’s me, Wang Yikai. Open the door!”

Still not a sound.

He started getting antsy. “What are you guys doing in there?!”

Then, suddenly realizing we were right behind him, he quickly clammed up.

I shot a look at Zhao Mingkun, both of us hit by an ominous feeling.

“Let’s just go in. Stop yelling!” I said. “See if the door’s locked.”

Wang Yikai twisted the knob, and the door creaked open easily. So, it hadn’t been locked from the inside. We all filed in. The room had four beds, and three of them were occupied. Those three guys were sprawled on the beds, each covered with a white bath towel. Judging by their bare skin and wet hair, they’d just come out of the baths, skipped getting dressed and lay down right there.

Wang Yikai rushed over, zeroing in on the bed near the door—Cheng Lu’s bed. He slapped Cheng Lu hard on the cheek and called out, “Hey Old Cheng, how are you sleeping so deeply? You’re not dea—”

His words suddenly caught in his throat. His voice shook. He started to shake Cheng Lu so fiercely the whole bed creaked. But Cheng Lu didn’t move at all. In the process, I caught a glimpse of Cheng Lu’s face—it was bright crimson.

“He’s dead!” Wang Yikai collapsed to the floor. “Cheng Lu is dead!”

“Ah!” The receptionist, a young girl barely seventeen or eighteen, shrieked when she realized someone was dead.

“Someone’s dead! Someone’s dead!” she echoed.

I ran to Cheng Lu’s bed and pressed a hand to his body. He was ice cold.

Guan Zengbin once explained how corpses become cold. It depends on many factors—age, body type, cause of death. Adults, especially heavier ones, cool off slower. Kids, seniors, and thin people cool faster.

Under special circumstances, a body’s temperature can even rise after death.

Normally, an adult’s body cools to match the room after three to five hours. But Cheng Lu was only in a towel, so with so much skin exposed, he’d cool even faster. Judging from how cold he was, he’d been dead at least two hours.

I checked his face and neck—his muscles were already stiff. Rigor mortis starts an hour or three after death in these spots. But there were no fixed livor mortis marks, which meant he’d been dead two to three hours.

So, they probably died not long after entering this room.

I hurried to check the bodies of Zhang Yifa and Sun Shouwang—their conditions matched Cheng Lu almost exactly. So, all three must have died at about the same time. I’m no forensic specialist, so my estimate is only accurate to the hour, not to the minute.

But even that broad range told me plenty.

The receptionist’s screams had drawn the spa’s security and plenty of onlookers. I blocked their way at the door and shouted, “No one is allowed in!”