Zhou Ziheng frowns. "By that logic, whoever assigned to a room automatically assumes the role of the character associated with that room. For example, you were dressed by the production team specifically to match that of your character. But, to induce game immersion, this information was kept from you."
"All that to set up that moment of realization we just experienced." Xia Xiqing leans against the back of a chair, puts a foot up on the frame of the easel board. He feels a bit miffed at having been so successfully played by the production team. Then he notices a missing link: "But you and I are both players from the first room, and there should be only the owner in that study. If I'm supposed to be the dead husband, then who are you?"
Zhou Ziheng frowns, equally perplexed by this problem. He glances over Xia Xiqing's white shirt, then recalls the outfits of the other players. Finally, he looks down at his own windbreaker.
"The production team didn't arrange my outfit. I came as is in my own clothes…" Zhou Ziheng begins to deduce from what he knows. "You're the dead husband, so you were blindfolded and tied up—it's because you're already 'dead.' My role must be to aid you in seeking the truth."
"In that case, you're probably some sort of detective. And if that's true, you'd be on the other side of the fourth wall. The rest of us are characters in a game that you are playing," Xia Xiqing concludes.
Xia Xiqing thinks it over. I'm the husband, Ruan Xiao is the wife, Cen Cen is the lover, Shang Sirui is the child, and, finally, Zhou Ziheng is the detective player who's trying to solve this murder mystery. The Killer of the game is the actual murderer within the plot. This person needs to be found by Zhou Ziheng.
It's like a jigsaw puzzle—they need every single piece, and they also need to put them together correctly before they can see the whole picture.
Xia Xiqing looks at the "vial of poison" in his hand and hands it back to Zhou Ziheng. Then he scratches his head, revealing the slight widow's peak on his forehead, and says with his peach blossom eyes shining, "Since you told me such a big secret, I will offer one in return."
I don't want to know your secret, Zhou Ziheng thinks.
Seeing Xia Xiqing's "ask me" face and reminding himself that he is on camera, Zhou Ziheng reluctantly asks, "What's the secret?"
"I'm afraid of the dark."
I knew it. There's not a word of truth from this man's mouth.
Zhou Ziheng quirks his mouth a bit. "Oh, really?"
"Yes. Seriously." The smile on Xia Xiqing's face grows a lot more restrained as he turns to look at the easel. "So… If there are any upcoming dark rooms, you should just leave me behind. Wouldn't want me to weight you down, no?"
As if I'm so eager to keep you around, Zhou Ziheng silently retorts. The atmosphere suddenly turns strange and unfamiliar, putting him at a bit of a loss. This guy is such a practiced liar that Zhou Ziheng can't not be suspicious, but the tone that Xia Xiqing is using just seems somehow different his time.
Xia Xiqing very quickly changes his expression and stretches out his legs, one of his extended legs almost but not quite brushing against Zhou Ziheng's shoe. The he asks, "Now do you believe me when I say I'm not the Killer? You know, given that I am already dead and all."
Having fallen for this trap before, Zhou Ziheng elects to remain silent. He looks down at Xia Xiqing's dress shoes, his dress pants, and the strip of his ankle showing in between.
How can a man be so fair?
"And, either way, I'm also no longer a suspect," Zhou Ziheng says while avoiding Xia Xiqing's question.
"The remaining three…" Xia Xiqing explains, thinking that most of the clues are pointing towards the female artist, including the painting in the first room. "What do you think of The Clothed Maja? Do you think it's hinting at anything? I feel like the other woman might be the prime suspect."
The other woman…
What a harsh way to phrase it.
Looking at his expression, Zhou Ziheng can tell that Xia Xiqing is currently pretty immersed in the game. Only, he seems to have ignored his own advice from when they were in the first room together.
You never want to be completely immersed in the experience.
Zhou Ziheng tries to pull Xia Xiqing out of it. "The paintings do seem to be giving us a lot of pointers, but think about it. There are so many paintings—almost every room has one. The first one was The Clothed Maja, which hints at Cen Cen's role. The paintings in this room all point towards your role, and most of them also help establish the storyline about the affair. Then there's The Unknown Woman in the wife's room, the woman in the portrait is also dressed in all black, so it probably points to Ruan Xiao. The kid's room however…"
Xia Xiqing, who was half listening and half fiddling with the sheet of paper that's clipped to the easel board, notices something off about it. After a closer inspection, he confirms his suspicions.
This is not a regular sheet of white paper.
Xia Xiqing looks around and finds a paint station on top of the wooden cabinet on the other side of the easel board, so he picks up a wide paintbrush, wets it in the water, then uses it to dilute some watercolor pigments into a more workable paint.
"What are you doing?"
Xia Xiqing grins. "Obviously, I'm painting." Saying that, he begins to brush down the page with broad strokes of watercolor paint. At first, Zhou Ziheng thought he was just being a weirdo again, but then he notices that there are certain patches of the canvas that seems to repel the paint, slowly revealing a line of white characters as the watercolor sinks into the paper around it.
Xia Xiqing unclips it to show to Zhou Ziheng. "Aha! You see—"
"What are you guys up to?" Shang Sirui voice interrupts.
Xia Xiqing immediately returns the sheet of paper to the easel board and, in the same movement, grabs another sheet of paper from the desk to stack on top before clipping them both to the easel board, effectively hiding the clue. Then, as Shang Sirui, Ruan Xiao, and Cen Cen all open the door to the art studio, he quickly adds a few lines to the sheet of paper on top, pretending to sketch.
For some reason, Cen Cen is looking at him a little strangely. Does she think he's the Killer?
Or maybe she's the Killer.
All these suspicions clash against one another within Xia Xiqing's mind. He'd be able to logically analyze them all when he calms down, but right now he has to face the other players and figure out who the Killer is while also minimizing any suspicion that others might have against him. There's just too much going on all at once.
"Ziheng, did you find anything?"
Zhou Ziheng squeezes the vial of cyanide in his pocket. Placidly, he answers, "The other room had the torn-up remains of some divorce documents. It's quite suspicious."
To reduce suspicion upon themselves, they have to sacrifice some less important clues.
"Where?"
"I'll show you." Zhou Ziheng heads towards the trash can from earlier.
"What are you up to, Xiqing?" Shang Sirui doesn't follow Zhou Ziheng and the girls, coming instead to where Xia Xiqing is sitting.
Xia Xiqing has continued his watercolor sketch, deftly putting down more lines of paint. "Ah, it's just that I saw an empty easel and I couldn't help myself."
Shang Sirui watches in admiration as the lines of paint slowly come together on the page. "It looks really good!"
Soon enough, the others return from the other room. Zhou Ziheng holds the wardrobe door open for Cen Cen and Ruan Xiao. "Careful."
Zhou Ziheng figures that, since he's shown them the divorce document, their suspicions should hopefully have lessened. Without quite realizing it himself, he's mentally designated Xia Xiqing as the only person he can trust in this game, so, upon coming out of the wardrobe, Zhou Ziheng naturally gravitates to where he's sitting.
"Wow! I've always admired artistic people."
"Later when I have more time, I'll paint something for you." Turning to Shang Sirui, Xia Xiqing unleashes the full power of his most gentle, most sunshine smile.
It's nothing like the type of smile that Zhou Ziheng tends to get from this guy.
How irritating.
As he casts judgment upon Xia Xiqing's overly flirty ways, Zhou Ziheng has inadvertently focused his complete attention on Xia Xiqing's face.
What a scummy pickup artist. He's really constantly trying to seduce the people he meets.
Stiffly, he walks around to Xia Xiqing's side of the easel, but then he notices what he's painted. It's a red rose in full bloom, its petals stretching out to fill the entire page, vivid yet soft.
The deep red of the rose, the blank white of the paper, and Xia Xiqing's side profile.
It's a strangely beautiful sight.
"For real? Could I get an actual painting?" Shang Sirui sounds very excited. "Like something I can frame and hang up at my house?"
"Of course! I'll paint you something big when I next get the spare time. How do you feel about oil paintings?" Without looking up, Xia Xiqing puts the finished touches on his rose. Then, more out of habit than anything else, he puts his signature at the corner—Tsing.
Shang Sirui sighs in satisfaction. "It feels so good to have talented friends!"
Xia Xiqing puts down his paintbrush, then turns around and laughs. "You're exaggerating." Only, the first person he sees when he turns around isn't Shang Sirui, but instead Zhou Ziheng.
Has he been standing behind him this whole time? And what's that look on face supposed to mean? He seems, at the same time, slightly upset and also a bit surprised.
Strange.
Suppressing his urge to laugh, Xia Xiqing stands up and takes down the two sheets of paper clipped to the easel board. Then, as he approaches Zhou Ziheng, he gives them a couple of haphazard folds and stuffs both the rose and the clue into Zhou Ziheng's pocket.
"A present!" Xia Xiqing gives the pocket a pat and gives Zhou Ziheng a smile that looks sweet enough. "Hope you don't mind how messy it is."
They exchanged a brief meaningful look before Xia Xiqing walks over to Shang Sirui and wraps an arm around the latter's shoulder. "By the way, there were some divorce documents in Ruan Xiao's room. Did you see them? I think they may have something to do with that thing…" Xia Xiqing diverts the topic with Shang Sirui.
Zhou Ziheng reaches into his pocket. There's a pleasant warmth to the papers Xia Xiqing gave him. "Thanks," Zhou Ziheng says to Xia Xiqing's back, half a beat too late.
You should thank me, Xia Xiqing thinks, but he simply gives Zhou Ziheng a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn around.
That piece of paper had only four very simple words written on it in white—sofa, flashlight, office, darken.
Not long after his conversation with Shang Sirui, the PA system starts up with an announcement from the production team: "Attention, everyone, there is thirty minutes left until the elimination vote. A timer will start on your phone accordingly. Please consider who you think is the Killer and proceed to the dining table when the time comes to take part in the vote."
So soon? Xia Xiqing feels a bit of anxiety come over him.
It's a little bit like playing Mafia or Werewolf of Miller's Hollow. Everyone is a suspect, and no one knows who's voting for whom. If they're not careful about how they vote, it's very easy to condemn an innocent player to exile and thus make the game more difficult afterwards.
But then again, it's a reality show, and it's just a game. It's just that Xia Xiqing hates nothing more than getting that GAME OVER that comes from failure. He's the type of person that lives for victory.
He must not make any decisions without solid proof or logic.
Having come to the wife's bedroom together, Xia Xiqing and Shang Sirui find Cen Cen and Ruan Xiao, who are Xia Xiqing's prime suspects. However, he still has no proof, not even enough clues to make a logical deduction.
As for trying to sound them out in direct conversation… It'll be too obvious.
"Xiqing," Ruan Xiao starts, "I'd like to ask you some questions about art. I'm not very well-versed in that kind of stuff."
"Of course." Xia Xiqing smiles gentlemanly.
Shang Sirui begins chuckling. "For some reason, seeing the two of you together makes me want to imagine a romantic story of a young noblewoman and an artist, hehehe…"
Shang Sirui's comment eases the tension that came from the earlier announcement.
But then this much-needed comic relief is interrupted by Cen Cen. Her indifferent face, which has always been expressionless, is now dubious, and the contrast of the deep red lipstick makes her expression look even colder. "You're an artist? But I don't understand, how did you figure out all those problems so quickly if art was what you studied? Did your artistic abilities help so much?"
While it's a valid question coming from anyone unfamiliar with his background, Xia Xiqing can't help but sense a bit of hostility from Cen Cen. It makes him feel a little ill at ease, or more accurately, displeased.
But Xia Xiqing still replies with a smile. "I am indeed an artist, but I like math, too—a hobbyist mathematician, if you will. Van Gogh once said in a letter to his brother that his paintings are the results of complicated calculations. You'll find that many great artists have excellent foundations in mathematics."
Shang Sirui chuckles again. "Xiqing is a very good artist, but his math skills really are impressive. Back in the other room, he solved a lot of the puzzles, including the math-heavy ones. He's really god-tier."
Xia Xiqing frowns. There's something strange going on, but Xia Xiqing isn't sure if it is something someone said, or just the general atmosphere.
"Is that so?" Cen Cen smiles. "I was thinking, we don't know how much information would be given to the Killer. After all, it's a bit unfair to play without teammates against the rest of us all—the Killer may very well be given some extra clues or even solutions. So… what if you're not just a regular player?"
The way she's asking… Is she trying to sound him out? Or is she trying to divert suspicion from herself? Either way, Xia Xiqing realizes that he's in a dangerous position.
Everyone watches Xia Xiqing for his reaction. Only, when he smiles, it's steady and untroubled by the accusation, warm and friendly in a way that does not at all suit his ensuing words:
"If I were the Killer, the first thing I'd do is to kill Zhou Ziheng."
Cen Cen is surprised by this response. The way she sees it, those two should be allies. "But you've stuck together since you got out of the initial rooms. Aren't you two—"
"What about now? Am I with him right now?" Xia Xiqing crosses his arms and leans against a wall. "Where is Zhou Ziheng now?"
Xia Xiqing sweeps his eyes across the players. Ruan Xiao still lacks any expression, and Cen Cen has gone silent. Shang Sirui, on the other hand, lets out a few dry laughs. "No way. It can't be Zhou Ziheng. He's constantly been helping with puzzles."
"So have I." Xia Xiqing blinks. "Haven't I?"
Xia Xiqing continues, "Lemme give you a piece of important information: it was much harder for me to escape than it was for Zhou Ziheng. I was blindfolded and tied to a chair, unable to move without Zhou Ziheng's help. Think about it. Why would game design make it so difficult for the Killer right off the bat? Meanwhile, Zhou Ziheng was given an easy escape. He's been clear-headed from the very beginning. Doesn't that make you suspect that he might have been given the script?"
Cen Cen stares at Xia Xiqing with a conflicted expression. Xia Xiqing, who has been spouting bullshit with a straight face, looks back at her dauntlessly.
As she makes to leave the room, however, Xia Xiqing stops her. "I would advise against that. If I'm right and you approach him now, then you're walking into your own death."
Cen Cen freezes. She seems quite reluctant, but Xia Xiqing's reasoning must have convinced her.
Observing the expression on her face, Xia Xiqing smirks internally.
For all that mathematics is a favorite hobby of his, his true calling is in the art of manipulation.
He can't just let himself get voted out like this. Ruan Xiao is the type of person that he wouldn't be able to influence, but Cen Cen is different. If she originally planned to vote out Xia Xiqing, her plans are certainly disrupted now, which means that he'll have a chance at survival. As for Zhou Ziheng—an upstanding guy like him, an extra vote won't hurt.
But who will Shang Sirui vote for? Xia Xiqing turns to him, but the kid is sitting in the corner and staring off into the distance, seemingly preoccupied with something.
"Ignoring the potential suspects for now," Ruan Xiao broke in, "you still haven't explained these paintings."
Xia Xiqing straightens and nods. He walks over to The Unknown Woman and points to it. "Is this what you want to ask about?"
Ruan Xiao looks up at the painting, nods, then adds, "But not just this one—all of them. Every room in this house has a painting and I feel they're all suspicious. They can't have been placed randomly."
Despite knowing less than Xia Xiqing and Zhou Ziheng, Ruan Xiao still has very sharp and very accurate instincts. Xia Xiqing understands what she's trying to get at, adding, "You're not wrong, but it's not quite true that every room has a painting. Other than the living space…" He glances towards Shang Sirui. "Your room didn't have a painting, no?"
Shang Sirui freezes, then looks thoughtful. "You're right. No painting in my room, and none in the central room either."
Wait, why did he hesitate?
"Your room never had a painting in it? From the start?" Xia Xiqing tries to confirm.
Without hesitation this time, Shang Sirui replies, "No, never."
Xia Xiqing nods, turning away. Cen Cen takes this chance to suggest that she return to her room to check it over again for any missed clues. She catches Shang Sirui as she's leaving, "Sirui, can you come help me move the bed? I want to see if there are any clues under it."
Shang Sirui agrees and follows Cen Cen off to her room.
After so long, Zhou Ziheng should've had enough time to figure out the clue… right? But Xia Xiqing is still a little worried that Cen Cen and Shang Sirui might disrupt Zhou Ziheng's sleuthing.
The most crucial clue is in Zhou Ziheng's hands right now.
The moment the wardrobe door shuts, Ruan Xiao takes a piece of paper out from her handbag and wordlessly gives it to Xia Xiqing.
This move comes out of the blue, but it is well within reason. As he expects, Ruan Xiao is a smart person. In making such a decision, the odds are that she has ruled him out as a suspect.
Xia Xiqing looks the paper over.
It's a page from a medical record. One particular line catches Xia Xiqing's eye:
Patient (14M) Diagnosis: Bipolar Disorder
Bipolar Disorder… which causes both depressive and manic episodes, either of which might result in unexpected and extreme behavior.
"Where did you find this?" Xia Xiqing asks in shock, thinking back to the empty medical record folder in Shang Sirui's room.
"In Shang Sirui's room, well hidden in a jacket in the wardrobe," Ruan Xiao replies softly. "It was very well hidden, as if whoever hid it didn't want it to be found. I don't think the production team did it."
Wrong.
He's been wrong since the start.
Xia Xiqing leans against the wall, trying to quickly collect his thoughts, remembering back to their initial encounter. It seems that every action, every word, has been a part of a carefully crafted play, only it's Xia Xiqing being played.
In programs like this one, it's inevitable for someone to be designated the "Muggle" of the game—the one player almost completely oblivious to the more intricate goings on. But Xia Xiqing pinned this character design on Shang Sirui, and he couldn't be more wrong. The one who actually got pegged as the "Muggle" by the production team must be Cen Cen. Moreover, Xia Xiqing's existing prejudices against adulterers had clouded his judgement.
He quickly tries to figure out what strategy the Killer might have. If he manages to take full advantage of this voting phase, then he might be able to take out two regular players—one with the inbuilt power he has by virtue of being the Killer, and another via voting.
As for who the Killer would want to eliminate—it is unquestionably Zhou Ziheng and Xia Xiqing.
Upon this realization, Xia Xiqing turns to Ruan Xiao. "You're going to help me make a play."
Ruan Xiao frowns. At this point in the game, with the votes happening so soon, they should by all rights be trying to win the trust of the remaining regular players in order to ensure survival. Xia Xiqing clearly knows who the Killer is already, so what type of play is he trying to make? "What are you trying to do?"
Xia Xiqing rakes his hand through his hair. He licks his slightly chapped lips, then says, "Kamikaze."
Cen Cen looks anxiously at the empty space beneath the bed. "Still nothing?" She turns to Shang Sirui. "What do we do now?"
Shang Sirui sighs, then replies, "I guess we wait for the voting phase." He takes out his phone to look at the countdown. "Thirteen minutes."
"Who do we vote for then? Still the one we previously agreed on?"
Shang Sirui puffs his cheeks out a little, frowning like a child who was denied sweets. "Cen Cen-jie, are you really so convinced by Xia Xiqing? Do you really think Zhou Ziheng is the Killer? It's just—I don't think so. He just doesn't act the way a bad guy would act, you know? And we already know that he's super smart, so it makes sense that he'd be good at these puzzles. It doesn't necessarily mean that he had outside information. I feel like what we should be doing right now is vote off the most suspicious person as soon as possible."
Cen Cen pauses, then uncertainly asks, "Should we… try to convince Zhou Ziheng to side with us?"
Shang Sirui shakes his head. "It's probably a lost cause. He's been allied with Xia Xiqing since the start. I doubt he'd suddenly turn on him. And Ruan Xiao has already agreed to vote with us, so if we all vote together…" He trails off, having suddenly heard something.
He quietly opens the wardrobe door, letting in the sound of Ruan Xiao's voice: "Okay, you've convinced me. We can vote for Zhou Ziheng together."
Then comes the sound of Xia Xiqing's voice: "Trust me, it has to be him."
Hearing their footsteps approach, Shang Sirui quickly backs up. Xia Xiqing and Ruan Xiao exit the wardrobe to see Shang Sirui and Cen Cen standing between the bed and the empty space it once occupied.
"Did you find anything?" Xia Xiqing asks.
Shang Sirui heaves a sigh. "Nope. I feel like we've already found everything there is to be found."
Xia Xiqing raises his eyebrow, then gives Ruan Xiao a meaningful look. "I think I'll go find Ziheng now. You guys wanna come with?"
Ruan Xiao and Cen Cen meet each other's eyes. Cen Cen seems to be optically signaling something to Ruan Xiao, who hesitates, then says, "I… umm… I think I'll stay here for now."
Shang Sirui seems pretty relieved by this.
Seeing that these three seem intent on staying together, Xia Xiqing is also quite relieved. Being careful not to show it on his face, he walks out of the room, thoughtfully shutting the door behind him.
If he's not mistaken, Cen Cen and Shang Sirui will do their best to try to convince Ruan Xiao to add her vote to theirs and vote Xia Xiqing himself out. This way, Ruan Xiao should be able to keep them occupied and therefore buy invaluable time for Xia Xiqing and Zhou Ziheng to find more evidence.
Shang Sirui isn't stupid. Once he realizes that things aren't quite going to plan, he'll naturally try to kill Xia Xiqing out of desperation.
And that's exactly what Xia Xiqing needs. So long as Shang Sirui uses his automatic kill on Xia Xiqing, then Zhou Ziheng would be protected from harm.
But before that happens, Xia Xiqing has to find enough evidence to convince Zhou Ziheng that Shang Sirui is the Killer. Otherwise, given Zhou Ziheng's subpar predisposition towards Xia Xiqing, he might not take him at face value.
The living area is empty. Xia Xiqing doesn't know where Zhou Ziheng is and he's running out of time.
He takes out his phone and glances at the timer—eight minutes.
Briskly striding into Shang Sirui's room, Xia Xiqing rolls up his sleeves and heads directly for that empty stretch of wall that's monitored by a camera. It's just as he remembered—there are in fact two nails here.
There has to have been a painting here.
Xia Xiqing grabs all the clothing from the wardrobe and lays them out on the floor. Staring at the empty wardrobe, Xia Xiqing tries to put himself in Shang Sirui's shoes.
Judging from the other paintings, this one would be in a frame, too, unless he removes it—no, too troublesome, and there aren't any tools with which to disassemble it, so it has to still be intact. Also, Shang Sirui couldn't even remove the contents of the medical record from the room, let alone a sizeable painting.
Xia Xiqing takes a glance around. It's got to be in this room somewhere.
But where?
Time is tight. Xia Xiqing's palms start to sweat.
He breathes deeply in, trying to calm himself down as he scans over the room. The room isn't very big. There aren't too many places that can hide a painting.
Rug? No way. They've been walking all over it. Xia Xiqing lifts up a corner of the rug and finds nothing. Table? Probably not, but he still bends down to make sure. As expected—nothing.
It can't be anywhere obvious.
He goes to the storage tower by the bed and opens up all its drawers. Nothing. A painting wouldn't even fit in here, anyway.
Then, his gaze pauses on the bed.
Suddenly, Xia Xiqing remembers how, when they found the clue in the organizer about the pen being under the bed, Shang Sirui had been somewhat reluctant to move it.
With how he looked when it'd been first suggested… No, he's certain now, there has to be something up with the bed. He immediately strips it, layer by layer, until even the mattress is on the floor, leaving only the empty board beneath.
Nothing. Still nothing.
Impossible.
Once again, Xia Xiqing tries to see things from Shang Sirui's perspective. Remembering his words, his expressions, he tries to think.
His memory isn't perfect, but he is certain of one thing—Shang Sirui did not want to move the bed.
So moving the bed must risk discovery in some way.
Suddenly, Xia Xiqing thinks of something that's almost impossible.
He starts to move the bed. More precisely, he starts to lift the bed, tilting it up until it's standing on its side and propped up against the wall. This way, its entire underside is revealed.
And voila! There's a painting haphazardly taped to the very bottom of the bed.
The subject of the painting is a handsome young man with brown hair. Wrapped around him is a feminine creature with a beastly body but a beautiful face. Her claws have a tight hold on his chest, and her gaze is full of temptation.
Xia Xiqing recognizes this painting. It's Oedipus and The Sphinx by Gustav Morrow.
Oedipus is probably the most tragic and the most infamous figure of Greek mythology.
He was king and intelligent, a paragon of mortal virtues, yet he was ultimately unable to escape the prophecy of patricide that haunted him.
"Oedipus… Patricide… He killed his father!" Xia Xiqing furrows his brow. Of course. he's been deceived been here since the start.
This painting is the biggest clue towards the Killer. The adulterous father, and the parents too preoccupied with their own worsening relationship to spare any love or attention for their child.
A son who can only communicate with his father through paper notes—that'd be when he's in a depressive episode.
Then when he's in a manic episode, the overwhelming sense that his father betrayed him, betrayed his entire family, causes him to commit the unthinkable.
The plot is so realistically chilling. But right now, time's too tight for him to dwell on any visceral reactions to this realization of his. He kneels down and starts to rip off the tape. But it's stuck on too well—he can't get the painting loose.
"Xiqing? Xiqing, where did you go?"
It's Shang Sirui calling for him.
Xia Xiqing's heart starts to pound. He weighs up the urgency of the matter as quickly as he can and decides to abandon his quest to take down the painting.
But something like this can't be known by him alone. He has to tell the others. He originally intended to take this painting to Zhou Ziheng, or that kid would never believe him otherwise. But it's too late now; he'll have to just explain it to him.
He's running out of time. Shang Sirui won't wait much longer.
Before he's killed, Xia Xiqing give Zhou Ziheng the best possible chance at victory.
Xia Xiqing heads over to the door between his current room and his original room. With luck, he'll find Zhou Ziheng in the study. If not, well he's kind of screwed, as Shang Sirui is approaching from the other side, and blocking their way to the voting area.
Beyond the door that leads to the study is a sea of pitch black.
In an instant, he feels short of breath, even light-headed.
He hesitates, his feet disobeying him by pausing in face of the shadowy depths ahead. The blackness of the room slowly consumes him, like a black hole that stretches into infinity and beyond. Tar-like, it encroaches past the boundary between light and darkness and latches on to him, sucking in his toes, his feet, his calves… forcibly dragging him deeper and deeper.
He can't stand it.
He gropes for the light switch, but before he can find it, someone else's hand grabs his wrist and pulls him further inside. He really can't stand it. Just as he's about to let fly the expletives at the tip of his tongue, that unreasonable hand on his wrist shifts and pins him against the wall, covering even his mouth.
"Shh… I found the clue. We can get out now…"
It's Zhou Ziheng.
With every inch of his being in the midst of a fight-or-flight response, Xia Xiqing doesn't even ask Zhou Ziheng how he knew it was him coming into the study just now. He clearly could not have seen a thing.
On the other side of the door, Shang Sirui's voice is getting louder and closer.
Unable to speak around the hand over his mouth and unable also to wrestle his way free of Zhou Ziheng's strength, Xia Xiqing bites down on Zhou Ziheng's palm.
"Ow—what are you doing!?" Zhou Ziheng lets go.
"I can't get out anymore," Xia Xiqing replies. He's leaning against the wall and panting, his voice slightly hoarse.
He gropes in the darkness for Zhou Ziheng's hand. Grasping it, he says, low and urgent, "Shang Sirui is the Killer. Please believe me. I swear I'm not lying to you this time."
The way he says it is so urgent and panicky. Zhou Ziheng's heart pounds against his ribcage—strange, he doesn't know why his heartrate is picking up. Maybe because Xia Xiqing's behavior in the darkness of the study is simply too foreign.
Then, before anything else can be said, that tinny voice descends from the ceiling:
"Player Xia Xiqing has been killed. Player Xia Xiqing is now dead."
The death announcement repeats over the PA system, flooding the pitch black of the room.
For all that he can see nothing beyond the darkness that surrounds them, Zhou Ziheng can still feel the loosening of the pair of cold hands gripping him, fingers slowly leaving the rapid fluttering of the pulse points at his wrists.
"Starting now, player Xia Xiqing has lost the right to speak. Please proceed to the elimination zone in the living space."
Zhou Ziheng reaches for the light switch and turns on the lights. Xia Xiqing is standing against the wall. Fine beads of perspiration have condensed on his brow, and he's looking down, his head half-drooped and his lips paper-pale. His chest rises and falls shallowly.
For some reason, Zhou Ziheng can't help but associate the Xia Xiqing of this moment with that rose he painted earlier.
Xia Xiqing's words suddenly return to him, resurfacing in his thoughts.
I'm afraid of the dark.
Yes. Seriously. If there are any upcoming dark rooms, you should just leave me behind. Wouldn't want me to weight you down, no?
He was actually telling the truth.
He really is afraid of the dark.
From their very first meeting, Zhou Ziheng has had the impression that Xia Xiqing is villainous but strong—too crafty, too confident, too clever. This type of person would never have any major weaknesses. Yet right now Xia Xiqing's weakness has been laid bare before him.
The complexities of Zhou Ziheng's current feelings are indescribable. There's a sense of gratification, like he's on the receiving end of some sort of special privilege. But, at the same time, there's also an aberrant surge of protectiveness.
But no. It can't be. How can "protectiveness" be applied to someone like Xia Xiqing?
It must be that the perverseness of this reality show has finally driven him insane.
Xia Xiqing leans motionlessly against the wall, seemingly still in the midst of recovery.
The clever and crafty villain is the first to die. Zhou Ziheng has strangely complicated feelings about this.
Of course, clever people tend to be made a target of in this type of game. But Zhou Ziheng doesn't get it—why didn't Xia Xiqing play dumb?
Of course, Zhou Ziheng can't have known that Xia Xiqing has been purposefully drawing attention to himself for the past half an hour—ever since the timer started. If the Killer's attention is fully occupied by Xia Xiqing, then Zhou Ziheng might be able to escape in safety.
To Xia Xiqing, so long as the Killer doesn't win, his own sacrifice won't count as a loss.
Xia Xiqing places a hand on the wall. Then, slowly, he straightens himself up and walks wordlessly out the door.
"Hey…"
Xia Xiqing turns around, but he doesn't meet Zhou Ziheng's eyes. Silently, he places his index finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. His bangs are mussed, falling messily over his face and covering the beauty mark on the tip of his nose.
He's already lost the right to speak.
Zhou Ziheng doesn't try to speak again. They silently exit the study and continue into the central living area.
Cen Cen, Ruan Xiao, and Shang Sirui are all standing there already. Ruan Xiao wears a serious expression, as if she already knew this would happen. Cen Cen also looks quite uneasy. Her attention flits between them, looking first at Xia Xiqing, then to Zhou Ziheng following behind.
Xia Xiqing feels somewhat recovered. He doesn't particularly want other people to see his weak side—even if the other person in question is Zhou Ziheng. Especially if it's Zhou Ziheng.
Xia Xiqing smirks as he walks towards the exit. This habitual smirk of his does not at all belong on the face of someone who's just lost. He looks to Shang Sirui, his "murderer." The kid has really exceeded the limits of the dramatic training expected of an idol like him.
For all that he seems a little stunned at first, he quickly recovers his composure and turns it into bewilderment. "Xiqing, you…"
Impressive. Honestly, Xia Xiqing can only blame himself. He's always been the type of clever that only ever treated other clever people as being worthy of interest and vigilance alike. Those relegated to the category of not-smart-enough have always been, to Xia Xiqing, no better than pets—cute and silly, but also daft and helpless.
Bad habits are the breeding grounds for failure.
But Xia Xiqing doesn't feel like he's failed. As long as Zhou Ziheng succeeds, he still wins.
He doesn't respond to Shang Sirui's trailed-off question. He merely raises his hand, pinches together his thumb and index finger, then draws them horizontally across his lips, zipping them shut. Then, he slowly walks towards that small marked circle in the corner of the room, meekly stepping inside it.
Zhou Ziheng doesn't want to look at him.
He looks everywhere except at Xia Xiqing—the dining table, the sofa, the carpet. Then, once all his other options are exhausted, he finally sets his gaze on Xia Xiqing.
Having gone a full circle, it's as if he didn't set out with the intention of looking at him.
Xia Xiqing meets Zhou Ziheng's gaze. He tilts his head slightly, then grins, all white teeth and brilliance.
It stabs, needle-like, into Zhou Ziheng. Even after looking away, he can't stop mentally replaying that adorable grin.
When he tilted his head, his overgrown bangs would brush across the tip of his nose, strand by strand by strand.
Unbelievable. He's clearly about to be kicked from the game. Yet he's still smiling…
"Player Xia Xiqing will be eliminated in three, two, one."
Suddenly, the circle of floor beneath Xia Xiqing disappears. Xia Xiqing, too, disappears, falling through the hole and getting killed out of the game.
Zhou Ziheng stares at that trap door, feeling strangely ill at ease.
Cen Cen breaks the silence first. "So Xia Xiqing was right? Ziheng, you really are the Killer?"
Ruan Xiao wants to defend Zhou Ziheng, but then she remembers what Xia Xiqing advised her to do before he got killed, and swallows it back.
Zhou Ziheng turns around. Hands tucked in his pockets, he calmly says, "If I were the Killer, I would indeed prioritize killing him." He grins. "He's too smart to let live. It really is a pity."
"A pity?" Cen Cen asks. "A pity that he was killed?"
"A pity that I'm not the Killer, that I couldn't kill him myself." Zhou Ziheng calmly says these somewhat chilling words before he walks over to the dining table and sits down. "Less than a minute left, let's all gather up and vote."
Cen Cen sits down beside Zhou Ziheng. "How can you prove that you're not?"
Zhou Ziheng rubs his chin and raises his eyebrows. "If I were, I wouldn't have helped him out of his handcuffs at the beginning of the game."
Cen Cen doesn't seem to be finished with this line of questioning, but she's interrupted by the PA:
"Time's up! The first round of voting has begun."
Cen Cen doesn't seem to buy his explanation. After all, she did watch him and the freshly killed Xia Xiqing walk out of the same room. That fact alone seems like a pretty convincing argument to her. "Whether you admit it or not, I guess we'll find out after we vote."
"No, we won't." Zhou Ziheng chuckles. "Even if you vote me out, you won't know who the Killer is, and you won't find until the game ends and you lose utterly and completely."
Cen Cen has no retort for that. Shang Sirui and Ruan Xiao also approach and sit down. Cen Cen gives Ruan Xiao a meaningful glance, and Ruan Xiao nods, still saying nothing.
For all that Zhou Ziheng appears calm on the outside, he is nevertheless still a little nervous. Cen Cen seems convinced that he's the Killer, so her vote will likely reflect that. And if Xia Xiqing is right, and Shang Sirui is the killer, then Shang Sirui's vote must also be trying to vote him out. As for Ruan Xiao…
Zhou Ziheng hasn't interacted much with Ruan Xiao, but it seems that she's formed a bit of an alliance with Cen Cen.
He'd be lying if he said he was calm. His palms are getting clammy.
"Attention all remaining players, please submit your votes on your phones. You have only one vote, so please be sure of your vote before submitting it. You have ten seconds left, starting now.
"Ten… Nine…."
It's strange.
At this moment, what flashes to mind for Zhou Ziheng is the smile Xia Xiqing had right before he was ejected from the room, and also what he'd so confidently said back when they were in the dark.
"Eight… Seven…"
Shang Sirui is the Killer. Please believe me.
It was as if Xia Xiqing already knew how the game would end.
"Six… Five… Four…"
As much as he hates to admit it, the only true ally he has in this game is Xia Xiqing. Even if he gets eliminated because he trusts Xia Xiqing, then so be it.
Plus, he was already suspicious of Shang Sirui. He just lacked the proof.
"Three… Two…"
Zhou Ziheng selects his vote, then hits submit without hesitating.
"One… Voting is now over. Please stand by as the votes are totaled."
The four of them sit around the dining table, staring at each other. The atmosphere is tense. Zhou Ziheng's eyes are focused on Shang Sirui like he's a cheetah preparing to pounce on his prey. Shang Sirui looks down, avoiding his gaze.
Truth be told, Shang Sirui really doesn't look like he's that good at lying, but Zhou Ziheng is still going to trust in Xia Xiqing's judgement.
"The votes have been totaled. According to the anonymous vote, the person to be eliminated this round is…"
The PA pauses. Zhou Ziheng finds his heartrate quickening.
If he dies, what'll happen to the information he has?
He'd be forced to give out his clues in front of all three of them, if he wanted to share his information. But then the Killer would be guaranteed to win, no matter which of these three really is the Killer.
At this thought, Zhou Ziheng can't help but despair.
"No one!" The PA continues. "The votes have resulted in a tie, so no player will be eliminated as a result. The game may now resume."
This result is a bit unexpected, especially to Cen Cen, who glances first at Shang Sirui, then at Ruan Xiao. "Which of you didn't vote for him?"
Ruan Xiao puts on an innocent frown, "Well, I did."
Zhou Ziheng, as an outsider to this coalition, observes them closely, and throughout the exchange, Ruan Xiao kept fidgeting, tapping the table with a finger. Meanwhile, Shang Sirui seems strangely unsurprised by this result.
Knowing who he voted for, Zhou Ziheng can easily deduce that, if Cen Cen voted for him and since Shang Sirui would have surely also voted for him, then Ruan Xiao must've caused this tie by voting for Shang Sirui.
Upon ascertaining how the players stand, it becomes even more evident that Shang Sirui must be the Killer. And for Xia Xiqing to have been killed so quickly—he must have found evidence of that.
Zhou Ziheng currently has all the clues needed for escaping this house. As in, it's not even necessary for him to prove Shang Sirui's identity at this point. All Zhou Ziheng needs to do is escape, then it's game over.
At that thought, Zhou Ziheng stands up.
"Where are you going, Ziheng?" Cen Cen asks.
"I want to go look for more clues," he replies. "No one was eliminated, but we can't just sit here; we still have to escape."
He heads straight for the study, but, as expected, Shang Sirui calls out, "Ziheng, I can come along."
Zhou Ziheng makes no attempt to stop him. "Sure."
And so the two of them enter the study.
The study is practically the same as it's always been. Shang Sirui gently closes the door, then asks, as if just trying to feel him out, "Hey Ziheng, who did you vote for?"
Zhou Ziheng, pretending to look carefully around the room for clues, throws the question right back at Shang Sirui. "Who did you vote for?"
"Oh, I forfeited my vote." Shang Sirui glances around the room, then casually sits down at the desk. "I didn't know anything, so I figured that it was better to not vote at all than to accidentally vote out an innocent."
Forfeited vote? Clever answer.
Zhou Ziheng looks at him, then nods. "That's fair." He walks over to Shang Sirui. The chair he's sitting on is the same as the one Zhou Ziheng had been sitting on at the beginning of the game. It's a well-crafted office chair with armrests at its sides.
Perhaps it's because he's nervous, but the hand Shang Sirui has on the armrest is slightly trembling. To hide that, he grips the armrest and tries to look more normal.
But Zhou Ziheng sees this. Shifting his gaze, he says, "Now that Xia Xiqing is out of the game, I feel like I need a new ally." He digs into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He puts it on the desk in front of Shang Sirui. "Look, this is an important clue I found." As he speaks, he reaches into his other pocket.
"Clue?" Shang Sirui leans forward for a better look.
In these two seconds as Shang Sirui is focused on the so-called clue, Zhou Ziheng takes out the handcuffs that he picked up by the record player where Xia Xiqing had left them and swiftly chains Shang Sirui's wrist to the office chair.
Then, Shang Sirui finally realizes the paper in front of him is blank.
Zhou Ziheng picks a length of rope up from the floor and begins to tie Shang Sirui to the chair.
"Ziheng! Hey! What are you doing?" Shang Sirui flails but Zhou Ziheng shows no signs of stopping.
"You've got the wrong guy! Or are you the Killer?" Shang Sirui continues to struggle, and Zhou Ziheng continues tying him up.
"Shh," he says. "Drop the act. The game will be over soon."
His work done, Zhou Ziheng extends a leg and pushes firmly against the base of the office chair, sending it along with Shang Sirui all the way across the room.
"Sorry! How about you take a little break!"
No matter how Shang Sirui squirms, he can't get out. He can only watch as Zhou Ziheng walks out of the study and shuts the door.
Little does he know, Zhou Ziheng already had all the clues needed to escape this house before he stood up from the dining table. The only reason he led Shang Sirui here at all was to trap him here so that Shang Sirui would not use his identity as the Killer to preempt him when he finally cracks the case open.
Prior to all this, back when Xia Xiqing was keeping everyone else busy, Zhou Ziheng had opened Xia Xiqing's painting and, according to the clue of "sofa, flashlight, office, darken," assembled a flashlight out of a bunch of parts left scattered under the sofa. Then, by searching around, he discovered some text that's only visible under the flashlight's light.
It's at the front door to the house, one sentence written beside the input for the three-digit password.
Who is the Killer?
But that's just one of the passcodes. There's still another one. Then, he remembered the second half of the clue. He turned off the lights in the study and found glowing red writing in each corner of the room—2, 3, 7, and the English word "prime."
As a STEM student, Zhou Ziheng quickly realized that, between the written numbers, the only possible missing digit that's also a prime number is 5.
Zhou Ziheng strides briskly from the study straight to the living area, where Shang Sirui's yelling is clearly audible still.
"What's wrong with Sirui?" Cen Cen heads towards the study.
But Ruan Xiao stops her. "Cen Cen-jie, wait just for a bit."
"Wait? What for?"
Meanwhile, Zhou Ziheng is already at the front door, rapidly entering the corresponding passcodes:
2, 3, 5, 7
Then, at the second input:
SON
The Killer is the son.
The touch screen turns blue. Then, three flashes, and green text appears:
PASSWORD CORRECT
Congratulations, you have escaped!
The door opens with a soft bang.
Zhou Ziheng looks straight ahead as he walks out. He had a very clear idea of what would be outside—cameras, or maybe members of the crew. He's even thought ahead to what he'd say.
But he never expected that the first thing he sees, after such a tense and sweat-inducing moment of escape, would be Xia Xiqing standing on the other side of the door.
Xia Xiqing is still in his white dress shirt. The crew is behind him, and the spotlight highlights the contour of his shoulders, shining past it to land at Zhou Ziheng's left breast. Xia Xiqing's face is shadowed, his features indistinct save for the curve of his smile.
"Excellent."
As soon as it's said, Xia Xiqing steps forward and pulls him into a tight embrace, the kind that men tend to use when celebrating victory.
Zhou Ziheng is a bit stunned, so he allows this hug to be stolen from him by this sly man without offering even a token resistance.
It's strange. Xia Xiqing smells different. The smell of tobacco has faded, and the scent of musk has been buried. Instead, Zhou Ziheng has been softly enveloped in a woodsy fragrance. The scent, the warmth, the touch of a palm against his spine, and a tone of voice that always makes this man seem like he's being insincere.
"I just knew that we'd win!"
The game has taken about five hours to film, having gone from seven in the evening to midnight, so the crew has been here for quite some time. When Zhou Ziheng emerges from the door, almost everyone backstage starts to cheer.
Ruan Xiao and Cen Cen follow Zhou Ziheng out of the house and are immediately greeted by the film crew with party crackers and confetti.
Cen Cen is still confused. "Did we win or lose?"
Ruan Xiao laughs. "We're the second ones out! And we scored pretty well, too."
Cen Cen looks shocked. "So… Zhou Ziheng's not the Killer?"
Xia Xiqing grins jokingly and says, "No, I am!"
Cen Cen stares at him, shocked.
Ruan Xiao gives him a playful shove. "Stop teasing her."
While the shove wasn't serious, she's still managed to knock him directly into Zhou Ziheng, who reflexively catches him by the arm to help him right himself.
In the process, Xia Xiqing's hair brushes lightly across Zhou Ziheng's chin, sending a strange tickle through him.
Xia Xiqing didn't expect Ruan Xiao to throw him off balance, and, when Zhou Ziheng reaches out to steady him, he glances back with some surprise. Their eyes meet. He quickly regains his composure and says, softly, "Thanks."
This word is just like that inadvertent sweep of his hair earlier. Xia Xiqing takes the initiative to back away a little, then, acting like nothing has just happened, continues to joke, "Ruan Xiao, you look so soft and cute that I didn't realize you're so freakishly strong!"
"Well, why would I go around proclaiming that I got into Mensa through brawn?" Ruan Xiao arcs her spine in a stretch. "I was so nervous inside, but now that we're out, I'm suddenly starving."
"Yeah! I'm hungry too…" Cen Cen agrees.
Zhou Ziheng offers a rare suggestion, "Let's go out for a late-night supper then?"
"Okay!" Ruan Xiao wraps her arm around Cen Cen. "Let's go for hotpot!"
Hotpot discussion is well on its way when Xia Xiqing realizes something is off. He sweeps his eyes around them, then glances into the door before voicing his doubt, "Hey, where's Sirui?"
"Oh, Sirui!" Ruan Xiao suddenly remembers. "I heard him yelling in the study before we left."
The sound of celebration has totally drowned out Shang Sirui's cries for help.
When everyone gets to the study, they discover Shang Sirui still tied to the office chair where he was left by Zhou Ziheng. He has already given up crying for help.
"Oh, you've finally remembered about me," says Shang Sirui. His head had been tilted back, leaning on the headrest as he stares at the ceiling, but he sat up straight the moment he heard the door.
They all bowl over with laughter. Zhou Ziheng feels like laughing too, but it seems inopportune for him to laugh now, so he could only stifle his laughter as he walks over and freesShang Sirui from the chair.
"It's just, Ziheng, why so serious?" Shang Sirui stands up and stretches out his limbs. "Handcuffs alone weren't enough? You just had to use rope?"
"It was exactly like this when we were first put in this room." Zhou Ziheng unties the rope and tosses it aside. He looks at the handcuffs and realizes he doesn't have the key. Just when he's about to turn around to search for it, a hand comes out of nowhere to hand it to him.
Of course, it's Xia Xiqing, smiling earnestly.
Zhou Ziheng takes the key. He has to tell himself that he can't trust this innocent face.
"He wasn't handcuffed at the start," Xia Xiqing tells Shang Sirui. "Only I was. At least you weren't also blindfolded like I was in the beginning."
"Woah. Sounds like you had a tough time just trying to start playing," Shang Sirui exclaims.
Shang Sirui and Xia Xiqing begin chatting while Zhou Ziheng silently uncuffs Shang Sirui. This reminds him of the time when he uncuffed Xia Xiqing earlier. Shang Sirui also has pretty hands. Only—if he's honest with himself—Xia Xiqing's hands are longer and fairer.
But why is he comparing hands? Zhou Ziheng releases the cuffs and snaps back to his senses. What's there to compare?
Shang Sirui, finally free, hops on his toes a few times. Then he slings his arms around Xia Xiqing and Zhou Ziheng's shoulders. "Finally! It ends!"
A few of the crew come around to remove their microphones. Xia Xiqing feels the tension leaves him and raises a hand to knead his neck. The moment he turns his head, he notices some pieces of confetti still stuck to Zhou Ziheng.
He reaches out to remove them.
"What are you doing?" Feeling a touch of cold, Zhou Ziheng turns around and sees Xia Xiqing's hand at his neck.
Like a startled little tiger kitten.
Careful not to laugh, he gives a quiet apology and plucks a strip of confetti from Zhou Ziheng.
He's not sorry. He was purposefully looking for an excuse to touch Zhou Ziheng.
Long fingers pinch the confetti strip, dangling it in front of Zhou Ziheng before slowly letting it fall, feather-like, onto the floor before him.
The confetti strip is conspicuously bright, just like Xia Xiqing's current smile.
Zhou Ziheng feels very awkward, but he ends up grunting a thank you.
"You're welcome."
This tone of voice that Xia Xiqing keeps using, it always sounds flirty, like a piece of frivolous cloud in the wind that he can't catch.
The director of the production approaches them with a pair of cameras. "We'll film some bonus footage in a moment," he says, handing one camera to Shang Sirui and another to Cen Cen. "Feel free to look around the house and film whatever you feel is appropriate. This house took our entire team nearly three days to put together!"
"Alrighty! Leave it to us, director. I was wanting to go check it out anyways." Shang Sirui is all grins as he takes the camera and aims it at Zhou Ziheng's face. "Is it already on?"
"Yup! Go for it!"
Seeing Zhou Ziheng wanting to hide, Shang Sirui grabs his arm, then he points the camera at himself. "Hello everyone! It's your stand-in host for tonight, Shang Sirui, from HighFive! Now, allow me to introduce you to—dun dun dun dunnn!" He points the camera to Zhou Ziheng. "Zhou Ziheng! Wow, you look so good on camera!"
Zhou Ziheng jokingly covers the lens with his palm. After a bit of struggle, Shang Sirui frees the camera and points it towards Xia Xiqing. "And this is Xia Xiqing! Super-duper smart. He was unbelievably good at the game. If it weren't for him, I think I might have won!"
"Is that indignation I sense?" Xia Xiqing retorts. "Look, how's this, you were also unbelievably good. I was fooled until almost the end!"
"Hehe." Shang Sirui turns the camera towards the house. "Now, let's have a tour."
The Shang Sirui after the main recording has concluded is like a kid on steroids, zapping in and out of the rooms with the camera in hand. Zhou Ziheng and Xia Xiqing follow behind, speaking only when the lens is pointing at them in prompt for a response.
Shang Sirui becomes even more excited as they approach the study. "And this room… this is the room where I was held hostage. I was kidnapped and tied to that chair right there!" Then he points the camera to Zhou Ziheng. "And this handsome man here was my kidnapper!"
"Pffft!" Xia Xiqing couldn't hold back his laughter.
Zhou Ziheng, facing the camera, calmly says, "Well, that's what you get for tricking everyone."
"I was forced to! With the role I was given, I was nervous to death, okay?" Shang Sirui explains. "By the way, how did you find the password to the front door? I searched for so long but I never found it."
"In this room, actually." Zhou Ziheng takes out a flashlight. "I found parts to this under the sofa in the living area and put it together." He continues to explain the "sofa, flashlight, study, darken" clue to Shang Sirui.
Before Zhou Ziheng can finish, Shang Sirui reaches for the light switch. "So, there are clues you can only see with the lights off?"
But Zhou Ziheng grabs Shang Sirui's hand.
"Don't turn it off!"
Xia Xiqing is startled. He himself hadn't even processed that darkness would be imminent, but somehow Zhou Ziheng had.
"Why?" Shang Sirui asks, his face full of doubts.
Truth be told, not even Zhou Ziheng is sure why he did what he just did, or even how he did it. It just sort of happened spontaneously.
"What he means is that you're still filming—pretty sure that camera can't see in the dark." Xia Xiqing grabs Zhou Ziheng's wrist and takes his hand down. "Right?"
"Yeah," Zhou Ziheng soundlessly extracts his hand from Xia Xiqing's grip. "I'll just tell you. When the room is dark, the four corners light up with clues. Three numbers, then the English word 'prime.' You just have to figure out the missing digit."
"Oh, so that's how you got it." Shang Sirui sighs regretfully. "Seems like I was only missing one last clue. Ugh, I was so close! How infuriating!"
After going over the last room, the group arrives at the chute built for eliminating players. A very narrow corridor beneath it leads directly backstage to the crew. Zhou Ziheng carefully squeezes himself through the narrow passage.
Thank goodness there's light.
Thank goodness? Why does he care that there's light?
Zhou Ziheng feels like he's beginning to lose track of himself. It's like a little voice now resides in his head, always saying these strange inexplicable things to him.
Shang Sirui walks at the front, excitingly filming an outro to the bonus content. Xia Xiqing follows closely behind Zhou Ziheng.
The narrow corridor compresses them all tightly together. They're so close that they can feel each other's breaths, as if the air molecules between them are actually a cloud of floating microorganisms.
Zhou Ziheng suddenly feels a tug on the back of his shirt, so he turns back a little.
Not expecting Zhou Ziheng's quick reaction time, Xia Xiqing finishes the step he'd been taking when he first started tugging on Zhou Ziheng's shirt, wanting to say a word.
And just like that, the distance closes.
All Zhou Ziheng can see is the tip of Xia Xiqing's nose, and he watches as that little mole at its tip grows larger as it approaches, touches the corner of his lip for the briefest moment, brushing past like a shooting star before retreating again.
A microscopic particle, floating like a glowing jellyfish, very suddenly stops.
The air condenses between them.
In the dimly lit corridor, as Shang Sirui's childish voice slowly fades into the background, another sound emerges.
Thump—
Thump-thump—
Zhou Ziheng panics and tries to retreat, forgetting that they're in a confined space that does not accommodate his six feet and four inches of height.
"Careful!" Xia Xiqing warns as Zhou Ziheng bumps his head on the ceiling. He tries to catch himself but fails as Zhou Ziheng ducks his grasp by slipping and falling completely.
The tension that had been floating between Xia Xiqing and Zhou Ziheng like so many tiny particles now fall, landing down like a rain of coarse sugar crystals, clattering over Zhou Ziheng's fallen form.
Zhou Ziheng shakes his head, trying to clear his head of his bizarre imagination.
This situation could not be more embarrassing.
Hearing the commotion, Shang Sirui turns and calls back to them, "Everything okay back there? What happened?"
"All good," Xia Xiqing replies. "Ziheng slipped and fell, but everything's alright. You go on ahead."
Then he extends his arm out to Zhou Ziheng.
Zhou Ziheng ignores the proffered hand and instead picks himself up. He dusts off his clothes and continues to walk forward with a hand supporting himself against the wall.
"Are you okay?" Xia Xiqing asks.
"Yeah."
Xia Xiqing chuckles.
Zhou Ziheng feels uncomfortabled, as if he has been belittled. In an attempt to break away from this awkward atmosphere, he tries to divert the topic.
"What did you want to say earlier?" he asks with his back to Xia Xiqing.
"Oh, you still remember?" Xia Xiqing's tone regains its strange flirtiness, like a breeze that can stir up a storm in one's heart.
"Are you gonna say it or what?"
Such a fierce tone, yet the tips of his ears are red.
"I was going to ask you," Xia Xiqing says as he walks towards Zhou Ziheng, treading on the latter's shadow, "how you knew that it was me entering the study. It was all dark. You couldn't have possible seen my face."
Zhou Ziheng suddenly goes quiet. They approach the end of the tunnel, and Zhou Ziheng ascends the steps in silence.
Xia Xiqing is experienced in flirting. He knows exactly how to handle awkward silences, how to divert it before it escalates into even more awkwardness.
"My guess… Was it my cologne?" Smiling, Xia Xiqing follows Zhou Ziheng up the stairs. "Is your sense of smell so good?"
Zhou Ziheng still says nothing.
They climb the last step, leaving behind the quiet corridor for the noisy din of backstage. The crew is still celebrating the completion of filming for this first round of the program. Shang Sirui and Cen Cen are still grousing to each other. Ruan Xiao is laughing sweetly. The atmosphere is filled with all sorts of happy voices and other accompanying sounds.
Through all this noise comes the deep tone of Zhou Ziheng's voice:
"It was a gut feeling," Zhou Ziheng finally replies.
It wasn't until after I approached and grabbed your wrist that I noticed your cologne, but that only served to confirm my instincts.
Xia Xiqing's last step falters midair for just a moment as he tries to comprehend what he just heard.
Gut feeling…
Then his step falls, and he looks up at Zhou Ziheng's silhouette ahead. This guy probably doesn't even understand how much insinuation that sentence carried, how impressive of a line that would be if he had been trying to flirt.
After they wraps up, Shang Sirui's assistant finds a hotpot restaurant that's open late into the night and books a private room. The five of them all head there together right after they're released from the program.
Shang Sirui orders for them all, seemingly pretty familiar with the menu. "I've been around here for filming many times before with the group, so I've tried this place before. It's really good! They've got that super authentic Szechuan style of cooking," he praises.
"You're from there?" Cen Cen asks.
Shang Sirui smiles widely. "No, I'm from Beijing." He looks at everyone in turn. "Do any of you drink?"
Cen Cen shakes her head. "I can't. I've got a tour soon, so I need to take care of my voice."
"I don't drink either," Zhou Ziheng says, taking off his jacket and grabbing a bottle of water for himself. "No need to order alcohol for me."
From the moment he takes off that jacket, Xia Xiqing's eyes do not leave his form. He's in a plain white T-shirt, looking light and free, a perfect embodiment of "college student."
Xia Xiqing examines the hand that grips that bottle of water—the slightly protruding tendons, the defined joints of his slender fingers, and he looks at his profile—the dense curtain of long eyelashes, the jut of his brow bone. Every extracted piece of the image is perfect.
His gaze follows the lines of Zhou Ziheng's neck, the way the supple lines of his muscles disappear into the wide collar of his T-shirt.
Why must this man be his exact fucking type?
"Xiqing, how about you?" Shang Sirui asks, interrupting his daydream.
"Me?" He returns to himself, and, in that instant, sees that Zhou Ziheng, for all that he's still in that same position as before, had very briefly glanced over to meet Xia Xiqing's eyes. It was only a split second though, for now he's looked away again, frowning.
How fun. Xia Xiqing puts an elbow on the table, then leans his head into it as he turns to Shang Sirui. "Sure! I want wine."
"As in grape wine? With hotpot?" Shang Sirui chuckles. Then, with friendly sarcasm, he says, "You sure know how to pair your alcohol."
"I'm not actually that hungry." Xia Xiqing continues to smile at Shang Sirui. "I just want a nice glass of wine to relax and unwind."
Sharing a meal around the same table is probably the best and quickest icebreaker for any group of strangers. And anyway the five of them have already shared the high-tension experience of Survive and Escape, so it's easy for them to grow closer over dinner conversation as they unwind from their earlier stress.
Cen Cen is also avoiding spicy food in order to protect her voice for her upcoming tour. Seeing Zhou Ziheng also avoiding the spicy side of the hotpot, she asks, "You don't eat spicy food?"
Zhou Ziheng shakes his head. "No, I can't really tolerate it."
Shang Sirui jumps in. "Yeah, Ziheng is super healthy! I remember from when I filmed with him before—he doesn't drink or smoke, and he sticks to super healthy food with lots of veggies. Also, he kept carrying around a Thermos of goji berry tea."
What an old soul—these are the habits of three generations ago. Xia Xiqing can't help but chuckle.
No, wait, they're also the habits of a goodie-two-shoes.
As Ruan Xiao starts to cook the tripe in the hotpot, she asks a question through the rising steam of the pot, aimed at Shang Sirui: "Do you often behave so differently off stage? I have a friend who's a fan of your group, though she stans a different member. But, well, she's seen you in person plenty of times, and she said that you generally act kind of muddled in person, too."
Biting the tip of his chopstick, Shang Sirui lets out a long hum as he hesitates. Then he replies, "Well, I'm usually not that oblivious. But, how do I explain this… It's just that we're all pretty young in HighFive, so we've got a lot of mom fans. You know, fans who treat us like we're their children. We always get comments like 'Mama loves you!" So because of that the company wants us to play up the childishness and the innocence, which means I'm kind of stuck with a public persona of 'cute airhead' nowadays."
Shang Sirui fishes a meatball out of the pot and into his bowl. Then he says to Ruan Xiao, "Oh, uh, your tripe might be getting a bit overcooked."
"Ahh, oh no, you're right!" Ruan Xiao quickly tends to her tripe.
Cen Cen takes this chance and asks, "But doesn't it get tiring? Always acting according to your character design? Having to always present a personality that's not your own?"
At this, Xia Xiqing feels a pair of eyes on him. He looks up, and indeed—Zhou Ziheng is staring him.
But it's so fun! How would it ever get tiring? Xia Xiqing smiles very faintly at Zhou Ziheng. Then, he breaks eye contact and takes a sip of his wine.
"It's not that bad. I'm kind of forgetful in real life, too, so the character design isn't too hard to stick to." Shang Sirui sighs. "Ah, the one time I get to play a villainous role, and I got so close to winning, too. It's such a shame. My plan was seamless! But then Xiqing stirred the pot and I suddenly began panicking."
Xia Xiqing laughs. "But how is that my fault? You shouldn't be so easy to stir up."
"What was your original plan?" Cen Cen asks.
"Well, the plan was to first get you and Ruan Xiao on my side. I was pushing all suspicion onto Xiqing, and you were believing me too. I had to get him voted out the first round because he's too dangerous to let stay. But then after that I could wait for Ziheng to get the clues together, use my kill card on him, and reap the rewards of his hard labor. Flawless!" Shang Sirui explains all this to excellent dramatic effect.
Then, he leans back in his chair like a wilted eggplant. "Ah, such a pity that Xiqing saw through my plans. Then he found evidence that could reveal me as the Killer, and it was so close to the time of voting that I panicked and immediately used my kill card on him. No consideration whatsoever!"
Hearing this, Xia Xiqing smiles. "Was it instant regret?"
"Of course! So many regrets," Shang Sirui admits. "But it was too late for regret, so I figured I could still try to go against Ziheng head-on. But, unfortunately, by then he'd already found all the clues for leaving, and he also knew I was the Killer." Shang Sirui stuffs a piece of rice cake into his mouth and turns to Zhou Ziheng. "Oh right, Ziheng, how did you find out about that? Did Xiqing tell you?"
At the mention of Zhou Ziheng, Xia Xiqing very purposefully does not turn towards him, instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on Shang Sirui, his expression gentle to the max.
Zhou Ziheng hums in affirmation.
Beside him, Cen Cen lets out a chuckle. "And so you believed him? Just like that?"
Zhou Ziheng has no reply to that. There's no good way to answer, so he stays silent.
Ruan Xiao returns to the conversation. "Going by logic, the clue for the final passwords must've also been given to you by Xiqing, right?"
Shang Sirui comes to a sudden realization. "It was that painting, wasn't it?" Waving his chopsticks, Shang Sirui turns to Xia Xiqing. "That one with the rose? Ahhh I should have just taken it from you right then and there." He smacks himself on the forehead. "Dumb, dumb, so dumb!"
At this sight, Xia Xiqing begins to laugh. Lazily, with one hand still propped under his chin, reaches out with his other hand to hold onto Shang Sirui's wrist, preventing him from doing further damage to himself. "Quit hitting yourself in the head, you can't spare the brain cells."
"Shit—it was that painting." Arm captured, Shang Sirui grabs back onto Xia Xiqing's wrist, then swings their clasped limbs back and forth beseechingly. "No. This is too upsetting. I need restitution for this emotional damage you've caused me—paint for me! I want big ones—two of them. One for my dormitory and one for my mom!"
Though Xia Xiqing isn't drunk off the wine yet, the shaking does make him a bit dizzy. He smiles in appeasement. "Alright, alright! Just two paintings, right? I'll start tomorrow."
It's a habit for Xia Xiqing, when faced with attention-hungry people, to spoil them with that which they seek—that is, before he bores of them. As such, the other party, upon being indulged so kindly, often starts to assume that they're closer to Xia Xiqing than all the rest of the rabble. They never realize that it's all just a lie.
But to Zhou Ziheng, it looks real.
And, he's not bothered or anything, it's just that he really doesn't get it. He can't figure out why—this guy is so clearly claiming to be his fan, and he was so earnestly confessing his admiration for him, but now, he's having dinner with his supposed idol—shouldn't he be trying to make conversation with his idol?
Only, throughout this entire evening, Xia Xiqing has barely looked at Zhou Ziheng.
Strange and puzzling.
And he seems to be pretty promiscuous—so he must be into Shang Sirui now, one hundred percent. Evidently, the fanaticism of fans is never truly reliable. One day they're hardcore stanning you, but then they hop into another fandom, and you'll be thankful if they don't say anything slanderous on the way out.
Chopsticks in hand, ears filled with the cheerful conversation of the pair of men across the table from him, Zhou Ziheng finds that he's unable to eat anything.
Hotpot takes nearly hours. As they're about to wrap up, Shang Sirui suddenly thinks of something. "Hey! Let's make a WeChat group!" He pulls out his phone. "This way we'll be able to chat when we're not filming together too."
Zhou Ziheng does not at all want to join the group chat, but it's too late—Shang Sirui already has him on WeChat so he's already been pulled into it. Immediately, his phone starts buzzing with endless notifications. He pulls it out and sees that they're all from a group called "guess who's the Killer today."
"And everyone please give yourself a nickname in the group chat," Ruan Xiao reminds.
And so Zhou Ziheng changes his alias from his normal WeChat username to something more easily understood, then opens up the members page for a skim. Immediately, he sees Xia Xiqing, but not because of his name—he hasn't yet changed his alias. No, Zhou Ziheng simply recognizes his profile image.
It's that painting he did once, of Zhou Ziheng in that red basketball jersey.
Strangely enough, Zhou Ziheng feels more at ease after this. He just frowns, squinting at that tiny little icon—not even opening it up for the full image in case someone looks over his shoulder to see what he's staring at.
It's a long moment before he finally looks up from his phone to glance at Xia Xiqing, sitting across from him.
Xia Xiqing is completely slumped in his chair, head tilted so that his hair covers half his face. Zhou Ziheng can't quite tell if his eyes are open or not.
He seems pretty drunk.
Seeing Zhou Ziheng looking, Shang Sirui follows his gaze. "Oh, Xiqing! Are you drunk? Are you alright?" Brushing his hair away, revealing Xia Xiqing's bright red face.
Xia Xiqing makes a vague noise of assent, sounding hoarse with intoxication. It's unlikely he heard what Shang Sirui said.
He's so drunk… Zhou Ziheng spitefully thinks that it'll be unlikely for Xia Xiqing to get home on his own. He almost fails to hold back an eyeroll at the situation.
"Where's his hotel?" Cen Cen asks. "I saw that he had a PA earlier, but it's so late now…"
"How about he stays with me?" Ruan Xiao offers as she pulls out her phone to call a taxi. "My place is pretty close."
"Unless you want to be in tomorrow's gossip headlines, that's probably not a good idea," Shang Sirui explains. "There might be paparazzi outside. He can stay with me; it's better since we're both guys." But then he suddenly remembers something. "Wait no! I actually have an early flight tomorrow. He'll be left all alone in the morning, so that's probably not a good idea either."
Everyone discusses Xia Xiqing's situation, but Zhou Ziheng doesn't participate.
There's a strange feeling of being in class and waiting in fear as the teacher prepares to pick on someone for an answer.
"Ziheng, how about you take him to your place? I remember your hotel is pretty close, and you drove here, too, right?"
And Murphy's law succeeds again—this is exactly what Zhou Ziheng was hoping to avoid.
Through his resignation at the challenges of fate, Zhou Ziheng hums an agreement.
Shang Sirui helps Xia Xiqing into Zhou Ziheng's car. Closing the door on the passenger's side, he says, "Well, I'm off then. Early day tomorrow."
Zhou Ziheng nods.
"Don't forget his seatbelt!" Shang Sirui yells from some distance away.
Slouching on the passenger seat like a drugged cat, Xia Xiqing is very difficult to straighten. Zhou Ziheng struggles for a while to get a seatbelt around his torso, but it's to no avail.
So troublesome.
Cunning, shameless, a compulsive liar, an outstanding sleaze. But now Xia Xiqing has become no more than a puppet sitting there. Zhou Ziheng mentally gives him a label of "Trouble."
After this show, he never wants to see Xia Xiqing again.
With no one to hear his complaints, Zhou Ziheng can only think these vicious thoughts at Xia Xiqing.
But then, suddenly, the troublesome drunkard makes a whimper like a baby animal and puts his arms around Zhou Ziheng, hugging him close.
His head burrows into the juncture between Zhou Ziheng's chest and neck.
Zhou Ziheng feels the gentle press of a pair of lips rubbing against the side of his neck. He feels like a current is running through him, as if crackling sparks were leaping off of him. He's numb from neck to fingers, and the cavity of his chest is filled with this sourceless electricity.
His heart stops.
For the first time in two decades, Zhou Ziheng feels this strange and wondrous feeling, and, in the throes of such a novel experience, he once again forgets. This drunkard who's so tightly embracing him… is very good at deception.