Chapter 279: Wang Yikai

2022-05-20

“Why don’t you all stay at my place tonight?” Wang Yikai glanced at us through the rearview mirror, looking as helpless as a child. “Really, after you clear my name, I’ll apply to the board to go on a business trip to another city. I won’t come back until this whole thing blows over. It’s just too terrifying. Friends of over ten years, dead right before my eyes.”

I turned to Wang Yikai and asked, “Didn’t you dislike us before?”

Wang Yikai nodded, surprisingly frank. “That’s right, I admit it. That’s actually one of the main reasons I’m taking you home. I didn’t kill anyone, but if you dig too deep, my own secrets are bound to come out. You need to understand, this is personal.”

“What secret?” I pressed.

But Wang Yikai just left us hanging, refusing to answer.

When we finally arrived at his place, all became clear. Wang Yikai opened a large wardrobe built into the wall. Both Zhao Mingkun and I stared in shock, unable to compose ourselves.

Inside, the wardrobe was packed with women’s clothes and accessories.

Only then did I finally understand why Wang Yikai seemed so hostile toward us.

Standing before us, Wang Yikai’s face turned beet red. Stammering, he pleaded, “I’m begging you, please, whatever you do, don’t tell anyone about this. If this gets out, my life is over. The only reason I didn’t want you involved is because I was terrified this secret would get exposed.”

“But now,” Wang Yikai closed the wardrobe and locked it tightly before going on, “but now, six people are dead. When Xing Yafang died, I didn’t think much of it. But once I saw three of my own friends die right in front of me… I’m honestly scared now.”

Only when death stares you down do you realize how fragile your own life is. Wang Yikai and Xing Yafang weren’t even close—her death was little more than a dark joke to him. But if today we’d chosen to question someone else, Wang Yikai could’ve been next.

I figured Wang Yikai realized this too. That’s why he looked so shaken.

He narrowly escaped death.

We sat in silence until Wang Yikai begged again, “Please, you can’t tell anyone about this!”

Zhao Mingkun seemed lost in thought. “So that’s why you’re over thirty and never married?”

Wang Yikai nodded. “I’m not hiding it anymore. I picked up this habit back in my teens.”

As for Wang Yikai’s condition, it’s actually considered a psychological disorder—more specifically, fetishism. Previously people called it ‘fetish disorder,’ but modern psychology leans toward calling it just a fetish.

The term ‘fetish disorder’ makes it sound like an illness, while ‘fetish’ just sounds like a special preference.

Everyone has their quirks. Some people love the smell of gasoline; some are obsessed with piercing their faces. In time, people realized that as long as someone’s habits don’t hurt anyone else, there’s no need to ‘fix’ them.

From a psychological angle, there are typically two kinds of fetishism. The first kind is a wild obsession with a specific object—some adore barrels, some crave desks, even extreme stamp collecting fits here. The second kind is the one Wang Yikai has.

If this started at age ten and nobody ever stepped in, it’d make sense why Wang Yikai’s habit got so severe. No wonder he never dated even into his thirties, or why he always ignored so many girls chasing after him.

Now that I knew the story, it felt impossible to judge Wang Yikai. After all, there’s no harm in having odd preferences. But paying Luo Ding to steal for him—that’s a whole different matter.

“That doesn’t excuse you for having Luo Ding steal clothes,” I said sternly. “You said you could prove your innocence. Who can vouch for you?”

Wang Yikai replied, “You’re right, what I did back then was wrong. I was only twenty and totally immature. But that night I asked Luo Ding to put everything back. Later I realized he might spill my secret, so I went to explain things to Lü Zhiqiu myself.”

“You went after Lü Zhiqiu? Were you in love with her?” Suddenly a thought struck me. “Didn’t you know she already had a boyfriend?”

“I knew,” Wang Yikai admitted. “But back then everyone around me was dating, so I thought I should too. So I chased after Lü Zhiqiu, even though she constantly turned me down. I couldn’t accept it, and honestly, I’m still not sure if I truly liked her or just didn’t want to lose.”

Zhao Mingkun snorted. “So you decided to steal her clothes?”

Wang Yikai’s face burned. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I figured if I gave money to Luo Ding and had him do it, it wasn’t really stealing.”

“So did you ever clear things up with Lü Zhiqiu?” I asked.

Wang Yikai shook his head. “When I went looking for her, I saw Luo Ding running off the moment he spotted me. I knew he’d spilled my secret—why else would he be so scared? I meant to explain, but before I could say a word, Yang Licheng came out from the depths of the construction site.”

“Yang Licheng?” I chimed in. “The same Yang Licheng who fought with Lü Zhiqiu over the scholarship?”

Wang Yikai nodded. “He saw me with Lü Zhiqiu, and he looked pissed. He wouldn’t leave her side, so I couldn’t talk about what happened. In the end, I just left with him.”

“You left with Yang Licheng?” I pressed. “Do you know where he went after that?”

Wang Yikai waved it off. “I wanted to ask, but he clearly didn’t like me spending time with Lü Zhiqiu at night. He warned me to keep my distance or else. I never thought Yang Licheng liked her, but that night I realized he did.”

“And what about Lü Zhiqiu?” Zhao Mingkun asked. “She didn’t leave with you two?”

Wang Yikai shook his head. “No. She probably didn’t want her boyfriend suspecting anything, so she didn’t come with us. I’ll admit, when I heard she died the next day, my first reaction was relief, not sadness.”

Gripping his hair, Wang Yikai stared at the ground. “With Lü Zhiqiu gone, my secret would never be revealed. And as for Luo Ding, he thought I was the one who killed her so he avoided me. I could see he was scared, but as long as he was afraid, my secret would stay buried.”

“I thought they’d catch the killer in a few weeks, but somehow it’s dragged on for seven years.” Wang Yikai let out a heavy sigh. “In seven years, I’ve come to realize I don’t like women—I just like their clothes. It’s ironic, right? There are so many young women in my company trying to date me, but I can’t say the truth out loud…”

After Luo Ding ran off, Wang Yikai had another encounter with Yang Licheng. If Yang Licheng could confirm the details, we could prove neither of them was the killer.

“Did you see Liang Mei that night?” I asked.

“Liang Mei?” Wang Yikai shook his head. “No, only Yang Licheng. I didn’t kill anyone, and I don’t have much of a relationship with Yang Licheng—there’s no way we’d team up to kill. If you don’t believe me, just ask Yang Licheng. He’ll back up my story.”

So much happened in a single night. Each of these thirteen people had a motive to kill Lü Zhiqiu, and all stood to gain from her death. But who actually did it? How many people did Lü Zhiqiu meet that night? Surely not all thirteen lined up to see her one after the other.

For now, all we could do was clear one person at a time.

I wondered how Gu Chen’s investigation was going, and whether they’d found Lü Xiangyang’s whereabouts.

Who killed Lü Zhiqiu? Why did every single one of these thirteen people have a reason to want her dead? She was such a kind person, yet none of them mourned her—some even seemed secretly pleased.

Was it all envy? Jealous of her looks, her grades, her kindness?

“What kind of person was Lü Zhiqiu, really?” I tossed the question to Wang Yikai.

“What kind of person?” Wang Yikai fell silent for a long time before finally answering, “She was just… a really nice person, that’s all.”