TEFSCBSS Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Let’s Start with a Turtle Soup to Warm Up

“The first question: Little Red’s mother passed away. She and her older sister held the funeral together. Seven days later, her sister died. Why?”

The crowd exchanged glances, perplexed. Was this a proper question for a serious game?

Wang Qingmu, the scholar in the group, retracted the mental “good person card” he had just given to the proprietor. In broad daylight, why did he suddenly feel a chill run down his spine?

Seeing the group’s bewildered expressions, Su Li took her time to clarify the rules:

“The first question is a type of game called Sea Turtle Soup. The surface clues are in the riddle, but the true answer lies beneath the ‘soup.’”

“Next, each of you can ask me questions about the scenario. Everyone gets a maximum of three chances, and my responses will only be ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘yes and no.'”

“If anyone can deduce the full story before the incense stick burns out, they’ll win five of the fifty taels of silver. But don’t lose hope if you can’t solve it. Asking key questions can earn you a flower lantern and one tael of silver each.”

“And in the final round, the number of flower lanterns you hold will be crucial. So, asking the right questions is very important!”

After explaining the rules, Su Li signaled Zhao Si to light the incense stick.

The faint trail of smoke spiraled upward as the crowd hesitated. With only three chances to ask questions, no one dared waste theirs. Everyone fell into deep thought, weighing their options.

In the private room of a second-floor teahouse across the street, Wang Bokao’s eyes lit up. “How about we have a little contest ourselves? Let’s see who solves it first.”

The Third Prince, Han Yueyi, sipped his tea, his interest piqued. “I accept. Didn’t you recently acquire a fine jar of Qingshan Qionglu?”

Wang Bokao stared at him, wide-eyed. “You—how did you know?!” His newly acquired jar of prized wine hadn’t even been properly admired yet.

Han Yueyi smiled faintly. “To make it fair, I’ll wager something of equal value: a dagger I obtained from Rongbei that seals its fate with blood.”

“You’ve got a deal! That dagger is as good as mine!”

Back in the street, someone finally broke the silence.

Liu Butcher, hands on his hips, roared, “Boss Zhao, tell us: Did the sister die of illness?”

Su Li looked at the burly, dark-skinned man who was practically twice her size and nodded appreciatively. “No.”

Though the response wasn’t affirmative, Liu Butcher beamed, holding the flower lantern he’d just earned like a trophy. He glanced smugly at Wang Qingmu, his neck stretching skyward. “Well, Scholar Wang? Not so quick to ask questions, eh? Can’t think of a key one, can you?”

Wang Qingmu’s face flushed. “Hah! Small minds and fleeting success!”

Unbothered, Liu Butcher reveled in his newfound status. His boldness seemed to inspire others, and soon a torrent of questions followed.

“Was the sister murdered?”
“Yes.”

“Did their mother return to seek revenge during her seven-day vigil?”
“No.”

“Did Little Red die too?”
“No.”

“Did Little Red kill her sister?”
“Yes.”

This revelation stunned the crowd. Gasps echoed through the street. Little Red killed her sister? What kind of grudge could drive such an act?

Amid the chaos, Su Li awarded another flower lantern—this time to Wang Qingmu, who had asked the shocking question.

But Wang Qingmu didn’t celebrate. Though he now knew the killer, the bigger mystery remained: Why did Little Red kill her sister?

In the teahouse, Wang Bokao scratched his head. “That scholar isn’t half bad. Not bad at all for someone of my family’s lineage.”

Han Yueyi arched a brow. “Don’t be so quick to claim credit for every talented person surnamed Wang in this capital.”

“Ah, right, of course,” Wang Bokao coughed awkwardly. “Still, why would Little Red kill her sister?”

Han Yueyi tapped his folded fan thoughtfully. “Motives for murder are often limited to love, revenge, profit, or malice. The key lies in identifying the motive. Once someone asks the right question, the rest of the story will unravel.”

Eyes lighting up, Wang Bokao called for his servant, Er Tong. After receiving instructions, Er Tong dashed downstairs into the crowd and shouted, “Boss Zhao! Could it be that the sister was killed out of jealousy over love?”

Su Li glanced at the teahouse across the way, her sharp gaze catching the faint figures moving behind its windows. A small smirk curled on her lips. Gotcha. Looks like some high-born brats are playing too. Excellent—free advertising.

Composing herself, she replied evenly, “Yes and no.”

This cryptic answer startled the crowd. What does that even mean?

Love-driven but not purely for love? Could it be that Little Red killed her sister for a reason tangentially related to love?

Even Han Yueyi was momentarily stumped. “Yes and no?” he murmured, piecing the puzzle together. “Perhaps it means love was the catalyst, but not the ultimate reason.”

He tapped his fan against his palm, confidence returning. “Prepare to hand over that wine. I’ve figured it out.”

“Wait, what?!” Wang Bokao floundered. “How come you know and I don’t?”

The crowd below erupted into chaotic speculation.

“Did Little Red have an affair with her sister’s fiancé, and the sister found out, so Little Red killed her in a panic?”
“No.”

“Was Little Red in love with her sister and killed her out of unrequited passion?”
“…No.”

A ragged monk piped up, “Amitabha, could it be that Little Red killed her sister to host another funeral?”

“Yes.”

The street fell silent.

Even the monk seemed baffled, as if his own question hadn’t made sense to him.

Across the way, Han Yueyi’s smile deepened. He motioned for his servant, Xiao Qiu, to deliver his answer.

Xiao Qiu cleared his throat and addressed Su Li loudly. “My young master has a theory and would like to share it.”

“Oh? Please, go ahead.”

Xiao Qiu spoke confidently. “The young master believes that Little Red killed her sister to meet a man.”