He pulled out a bottle of baijiu. No opener needed—he cracked the cap off against the table’s edge. He poured ten small half-cups, then took out his phone and set the stopwatch.
“Let’s play a game. You’re going to defend yourself now. Think of it as if you were framed, and do your best to give convincing reasons to clear yourself. One reason every two minutes. If the time runs out and you can’t come up with one, you drink. If you can’t think of a single one, then that makes you the murderer.”
He pressed start. The countdown began, numbers ticking down at lightning speed.
It took Mu Dai a while to digest what he’d said. Nerves crept up on her for no reason at all. When her eyes met his—serious, insistent—he barked, “Hurry up!”
Even his tone added to the pressure.
Her lips were dry. Her hands twisted together. Her mind spun frantically, but no clear thought formed.
Defend herself. Give convincing reasons. Convincing reasons…
A cup was pushed in front of her. Time was already up?
“Drink,” Luo Ren said.
She had no choice but to knock it back. Baijiu was no beer—the burn shot straight to her head, making her eyes water.
Another two minutes on the clock.
A convincing reason. She needed one. But what reason did she have? The other side had two witnesses. The police said the two didn’t know each other, so collusion was unlikely. And it wasn’t as if either man had any grudge against her—why would they want to frame her?
Her thoughts blurred until another cup appeared in front of her.
“Drink it.”
She swallowed it down. Looking up at Luo Ren, she saw that his face was expressionless. “If you can’t come up with anything,” he said flatly, “then it must’ve been you.”
Whether from the alcohol or the frustration, Mu Dai thought he was being downright heartless.
“It wasn’t me,” she said.
“Plenty of people in ancient courts said, ‘It wasn’t me.’ After a few beatings, they all signed their confessions.”
Confess your ass!
Mu Dai slammed the table. “I said it wasn’t me!”
The hit was too hard—she knocked over a bowl of mixed vegetables, splashing sauce onto Luo Ren’s clothes. He frowned, lowering his head to check.
Tears of frustration welled up in Mu Dai’s eyes. “I don’t have that many split personalities sneaking out at night. No matter what Dr. He says—two personalities, three—I’ve been working on keeping them in check. I’m not sick. I wouldn’t go out in the middle of the night to kill someone.”
Just then, the stopwatch beeped again.
Fuming, she reached for another cup, but Luo Ren was faster. He whisked it away.
“That one counts as a reason,” he said.
Then, pointing at the stain on his shirt: “You’re washing this.”
Before she could argue, another countdown began.
This time, she forced herself to stay calm, brow furrowed, thinking hard.
“I don’t really know Zhang Tong. I had no reason to kill him. We had no feud. No motive. Even if you go back to what Dr. He said about the so-called ‘Mu Dai Number Two,’ she only shows up when my life’s in danger. Zhang Tong was just an ordinary student. He couldn’t even beat me in a fight. He was never a threat.”
Luo Ren nodded. “Now that one has some weight to it.”
“But you could’ve split that into two reasons. Why lump it together? Anyway, time’s up. Come up with another.”
Mu Dai was speechless. Her mind went blank. Two minutes flew by, and she had to drink again.
This time she had nothing left.
“Are you sure you’re out of reasons?” Luo Ren asked.
She nodded. Absolutely sure.
“If I give you one, you drink?”
“Drink.”
Luo Ren thought for a moment. “Ma Chao and Song Tie—initial investigation says they don’t know each other. But often there are hidden ties outsiders don’t see. The things people are most certain about are often the ones least certain of all.”
Mu Dai had no comeback. She drank.
“As for Zhang Tong, that angle’s worth checking too. Did he have enemies? If it were one of them framing you, they wouldn’t drag in someone with no connection at all. Maybe you were seen with Zhang Tong, or happened to be near him, and that person seized the chance to pin it on you.”
Mu Dai drank again, this time just sipping.
“Drunk yet?” Luo Ren asked.
She shook her head. “Just a little dizzy.”
“I know you can hold your liquor. Uncle Zhang told me you drink like it’s soda. A little dizzy is fine—it’ll help you sleep.”
Sleep, huh.
Mu Dai stood, tied her hair back with a rubber band, rinsed her mouth, splashed her face, then staggered back into the room.
Not drunk, but definitely tipsy.
She wandered between the bed and the sofa, swaying. “Where am I sleeping?”
“The bed,” Luo Ren said.
She hummed in acknowledgment, but her sense of direction was off. She spun in another little circle.
“Are you a spinning top?” he muttered.
He guided her by the shoulder toward the bed. Mu Dai kicked off her shoes and crawled up, diagonally sprawled like a starfish. She grabbed a pillow for her head and tugged the blanket over herself.
Luo Ren asked, “If you were back at the police station, would you try to run again?”
Staring at the ceiling, she mumbled, “I should’ve talked it through with them. Running made me look guilty.”
“Do you still think you killed someone? That you’re guilty?”
Eyes closed, she pulled the blanket higher. “I must’ve been framed.”
She rolled over with a sigh, murmuring, “Better sleep early. I’ve got laundry to do tomorrow.”
It took Luo Ren a second to realize she was talking about his clothes.
He tidied up the messy dishes, then went to rinse off in the bathroom—cold water only now, a real “cold shower.”
Switching off the light, he stretched out on the sofa.
In the dark, he held his breath, listening to her.
Her breathing was steady, soft. She was asleep.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
She was full, had drunk her fill, and her burdens were a little lighter. She should sleep well tonight.
Meow meow On TPH Chapter 26.1