TEFSCBSS Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Another One Dies (Part 1)

“You figured something out?”

Wang Bokao looked utterly confused. Wasn’t he supposed to be the cunning fox in this setup? Why did everyone around him seem smarter than him? This was getting ridiculous!

He was standing about ten feet away from Han Yueyi, who hadn’t directly given him the answer. Instead, he was guiding him step by step.

“Alright, stop right there,” Han Yueyi instructed.

“Now, let’s assume you’re the murderer. You carried the victim’s body here and then set it down.”

“Now, retrace your steps—walk backward exactly the way you came, from memory.”

Wang Bokao followed the instructions, carefully stepping backward. And to be honest, it wasn’t easy—he kept having to turn and glance over his shoulder to stay balanced. A couple of times, he nearly stumbled.

Suddenly, he froze mid-step. He spun around and stared at Han Yueyi in shock. “Wait—you’re saying the killer went back the same way they came?”

“That can’t be right! If you mess up even one step, your footprints won’t line up with the originals!”

Han Yueyi nodded. “Exactly. Which tells us the killer must be extremely cautious.”

“And as for why the footprints matched the victim’s… I don’t think I need to explain that part.”

Wang Bokao blinked, realization dawning. “The killer wore the same shoes as the victim… so the footprints left behind looked identical.”

“Still, that’s not what matters,” he muttered, lifting his wine cup, brows furrowed in thought. “What I want to know is—why? Why go through all that trouble? Make it look like the victim walked here alone and died on their own… like they came back from the dead or something.”

The way the body was disposed of could be reconstructed. In most murder-mystery games, that alone would be enough to identify the killer.

But for Wang Bokao, what mattered more… was the reason. The motive behind it all.

At the Xilou Script Murder Club, on the elevated platform—

Su Li continued hosting the session. “Now we’ve reached the next stage: evidence correlation!”

“In any case, the crime scene is always filled with clues—some obvious, some so ordinary they’re easy to overlook.”

“But often, it’s those everyday little things, when pieced together, that reveal the killer’s exact path.”

“So now, candidates, you’ll each have a limited time to select clue cards from the long table. You must pick at least two to form a connected thread of evidence. Then the judges will evaluate whether your connection relates to the truth of the case.”

Contestant No. 5 raised an eyebrow. At least two? That likely meant there could be groups of three, four, five—maybe even more cards needed to form a complete chain of clues.

This round wasn’t going to be easy. Fortunately, he already had a few ideas in mind.

The contestants gathered around the long table, eyes scanning the cards laid out.

Off to the side, the two players playing witnesses—Butcher Liu and Chun Ya—were whispering to each other.

“Chun Ya, how do you think I look in this getup today?” Butcher Liu tugged at his collar and spun in a circle in front of her.

Chun Ya rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Stop spinning. You think your stepmom doesn’t know what you look like?”

“You’re just a kid. You don’t get adult romance.”

“…Pfft.”

“Oh right, hurry up and bring over our lines. I wanna run through them one more time. What if I mess up with Stepmom on stage?” Butcher Liu rubbed his hands nervously. It was his first time acting in one of these murder-mystery scripts—and he had a scene with the actress playing Stepmom. He was a wreck.

Back on the platform, most of the contestants had already linked the available clues into evidence chains. But even now, based on what they had…

There were still way too many contradictions in the supposed “truth” of the case.

After the Evidence Correlation and Case Deduction stages wrapped up, every contestant had earned some base points. But despite that—even for Contestants No. 1 and No. 5, who were far ahead in the rankings—none of them looked the slightest bit happy.

The scores didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the truth of the case.

Su Li, of course, noticed their expressions. Holding a megaphone in one hand, she used the other to help Zhao Si pull open the curtain on the platform stage.

“The first round of investigation and verification is now complete. Congratulations, candidates, for making it through Day One.”

“Now, we step into Day Two… of the ten-year-old case: The Body at the Wonton Stall.”

Clang, clang, clang—! A series of echoing bangs rang out from somewhere offstage. The stage curtain, which had just opened onto a lively street scene, now revealed the same wonton stall, but it was blackened—burned and ruined.

“Aaaahhh! Somebody help! Spring Ya is dead! She’s dead! Oh my god!”

Butcher Liu fell dramatically to his knees just outside the scorched remains of the stall, facing a charred corpse in the middle. He sobbed uncontrollably.

“Poor, poor Spring Ya… Why did you have to die like this? Did you… Did you take your own life for that lovesick scholar? So tragic… so, so tragic…”

Other actors, previously playing the neighboring stall owners, rushed over at the sound of the screaming.

“Oh no… this is horrible! She burned to death? That must’ve been agonizing!”

“I didn’t realize Spring Ya and that scholar guy were so close. Guess true love does exist—life and death, together to the end!”

“Heh, foolish child. Believing in everything only gets you hurt.”

“Wait—when exactly did Spring Ya die?”

“No idea. I was just about to set up my stall when I heard Butcher Liu howling like that. Dropped everything and ran over.”

The actors onstage were deep in discussion while the audience below looked surprised and uneasy. A strange chill swept through the room. Was there something off about the energy in this place?

Su Li clapped her hands to regain order, signaling that the players could now step forward and begin investigating again.

The contestants returned to their original groups and resumed the same format.

Contestant No. 5 headed straight to the key witness, Butcher Liu.

“Butcher Liu, when did you first discover the body?”

“Just now! You know I live alone, right? And I can’t cook. I usually come out here for breakfast. This morning I thought I’d grab a bowl of wontons—who knew I’d show up and find this scene?”

No. 5 eyed the charred remains of the stall, blackened and crumbling at the slightest touch. Something didn’t add up.

“What time did you go home last night?” he asked. “Was Spring Ya still here when you left?”

“Pretty sure she was. I was taken away by the officials for questioning, remember? When they brought me in, she was still right here at her stall.”

“After the questioning, it was already dark, so I just headed straight home.”

No. 5 nodded slowly. “Do you know if Spring Ya was brought in for questioning, too?”

Butcher Liu shook his head. “No idea. Not a clue. Don’t know anything about that.”

No. 5 glanced at him—still bawling his eyes out—and couldn’t help but snap.

“Alright, enough with the act. It’s not like she was your wife. You crying this hard just seems fake.”

Butcher Liu ignored him and kept on wailing.

Just then, a soft, melodic flute began to play from behind the platform. The entire room went quiet. Everyone instinctively turned to look.

From the staircase emerged a woman in a flowing red robe, her face partially veiled with gauze. She walked forward slowly, solemnly.

She looked toward the burned wonton stall, her eyes filled with grief.

“Sister… why… why couldn’t you let it go…”