[Captain Zhao, you suspect the camera angle is problematic? Someone avoided the surveillance entering and exiting the villa?]

[Yes, you can check the angles on the monitors. I feel there might be blind spots.]

[Understood.]

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“What’s on your mind, Captain Zhao?” Lu Pingfeng looked up and asked.  

“Your agent has also visited Dr. Kong’s villa, just after you returned that bottle of medication. Were you aware of this?”  

This meant that Ai Lin also had the time and opportunity to instruct Mrs. Kong to use the medication to murder Dr. Kong. Though the motive remained unclear, the possibility was chilling.  

“She’s my agent; of course, she’s concerned about my mental state,” Lu Pingfeng replied.  

“We need her contact information,” Zhao Sicheng said.  

Lu Pingfeng cooperatively handed over his agent’s phone number to Zhao Sicheng.  

“That’s all for today. If we need anything further, Mr. Lu, we’ll count on your cooperation in our investigation.”  

As Zhao Sicheng was about to leave, Lu Pingfeng spoke up, “Dr. Wen…has he reviewed the case files on Dr. Kong and his wife?”  

“He hasn’t yet, but after today, he certainly will,” Zhao Sicheng replied and then left.  

When Lu Pingfeng was left alone in the studio, the smile slowly faded from his face. Leaning back in his chair, he raised his chin, his arms falling limp at his sides.  

Lonely and cold, like a small flame in a winter night being extinguished in the dark.  

On the other side of the monitor, Luo Yu watched, feeling increasingly weighed down, as if a heavy burden pressed down without relief.  

He suddenly understood why the script had set Lu Pingfeng up to guide Wen Yuchi to find that blood-stained wall.  

—The wall covered in luminol reactions didn’t prove a crime had occurred but rather showed that Lu Pingfeng, who had become one with the villa…was a madman.  

Lu Pingfeng wanted to see if Wen Yuchi would be frightened, if Wen Yuchi would leave his world, if he would shut the door of his world and bar entry, if he would make the boundary more clear and distinct.  

And… if Wen Yuchi was different from everyone else in this world.  

Luo Yu took a deep breath. He desperately wanted to embrace Gu Xiaowei. Whether Wen Yuchi would open his world to Lu Pingfeng or not, Luo Yu knew he would always wait for Gu Xiaowei.  

The sky was growing dark, and the two night scenes for tonight were about to begin.  

Gu Xiaowei returned quietly, sitting on the small stool and seriously reviewing his previous performance.  

Luo Yu intended to stand and make space for Yan Jun, but Gu Xiaowei unconsciously extended his hand as if to grab him. However, Yan Jun had already taken Luo Yu’s spot.  

Luo Yu stood behind Gu Xiaowei, opened his thermos, poured half a cup of hot coffee, leaned over his shoulder, and softly asked, “Want some?”  

“En.” Gu Xiaowei nodded, not taking the cup but guiding Luo Yu’s wrist to bring the cup to his lips, drinking slowly.  

Like this, Luo Yu held him in a half-embrace. When Sheng Yunlan came over to discuss the scene, Gu Xiaowei leaned back slightly, almost settling into Luo Yu’s arms.  

After Sheng Yunlan finished explaining the scene, Gu Xiaowei’s half-cup of coffee was still unfinished.  

Yan Jun joked, “Teacher Gu is lucky to have Teacher Luo taking care of him. Unlike me—lonely, cold, with no one to hand me even a sip of hot water.”  

At that moment, Yan Jun’s assistant appeared. “Brother Yan! Your chrysanthemum tea! Just the right temperature for drinking now!”  

Both Gu Xiaowei and Luo Yu turned to look at Yan Jun.  

Under their gazes, Yan Jun turned his head and, as if unaffected, took a few sips of chrysanthemum tea.  

The first night scene was still in this villa, where Lu Pingfeng was sleepwalking.  

The next night scene was set in the youth apartment, where a thunderstorm was predicted at ten tonight, matching the ambiance of that scene.  

Before the night scenes began, the crew provided dinner for everyone.  

The meal was prepared by the resort since the distance from the city meant that ordering food would have it arrive cold.  

The meal box contained three dishes: scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bitter melon stuffed with meat, and stir-fried chicken.  

The colors were vibrant, the flavors good, and the director had specifically requested no chili to protect the actors’ voices. 

The two of them carried their meal boxes to a small round table in the courtyard.  

Gu Xiaowei still wore Lu Pingfeng’s makeup. Without any expression, his face looked like a cold, hard sculpture, especially as the crew had turned off unnecessary lighting to set the mood.  

Only the bug-catcher lamp near the villa’s entrance cast a faint glow behind Gu Xiaowei, making his features appear as if glazed, almost as if…  

“You look like a vampire,” Luo Yu said.  

Gu Xiaowei didn’t react, simply poking at the bitter melon with his chopsticks. “Are you scared?”  

“If all those elegant and noble vampires looked like you, oh master, I would gladly be your eternal servant, offering you my blood and my life,” Luo Yu replied in a theatrical tone.  

“Too exaggerated,” Gu Xiaowei commented, but there was a slight smile on his face.  

“But you like it.” Luo Yu leaned in and peeled off the bitter melon skin from the meat stuffing before him.  

“You don’t like bitter melon,” Gu Xiaowei observed, looking up.  

“But you like it even less than I do.” Luo Yu looked at him, setting aside a few pieces of tomato for him. “Here, let’s trade, Xiao Gu.”  

“Did I do well today?” Gu Xiaowei asked.  

“Very well.”  

Though he only said two words, Luo Yu’s sincerity was unmistakable.  

“In the past, I didn’t quite understand why Lu Pingfeng wanted to guide Wen Yuchi to see that wall while simultaneously not wanting him to discover it. Now, I finally get it.” Gu Xiaowei ate the tomato Luo Yu had given him but didn’t finish the second half of his thought.  

But Luo Yu knew what he was thinking and said, “Because what he seeks is not salvation but understanding. A thousand people believing he’s mentally unstable but hasn’t killed anyone, sympathizing with him, believing he fights against an inner beast… is nothing compared to one person thinking there was never a beast inside him.”  

“It’s more than that…” Gu Xiaowei looked at Luo Yu with a solemn, yet heartwarming gaze.  

“What is it?”  

“Wen Yuchi fulfills Lu Pingfeng’s every fantasy of humanity, proving he still has human emotions. If Wen Yuchi would doubt him or withdraw because of the luminol-stained wall, it would shatter Lu Pingfeng’s fantasy. He wants to preserve this beautiful illusion forever but doesn’t want to be consumed by a false delusion.”  

Watching Gu Xiaowei, Luo Yu once again thought of what Gu Xiaowei had said… about walking into the theater, creating a character of his own imagination, and then saving himself. 

“Wen Yuchi isn’t an illusion to Lu Pingfeng. And when this film ends, I’ll still be here.”  

“En.” Gu Xiaowei replied softly, bowing his head to eat, his docile look prompting Luo Yu to reach over and ruffle his hair gently.  

The night sky was now pitch dark, with no stars or moonlight visible. The clouds pressed low, and the air felt stifling, a sure sign of impending rain.  

After finishing the meal, Gu Xiaowei changed into silk pajamas.  

There was no other way to describe it—this guy just looked naturally suited to silk. The fabric’s drape naturally elongated his frame, and with his hair brushed down to half-cover his face, he exuded a mysterious, graceful, and slightly eerie aura.  

Brother Yan was meticulously touching up Gu Xiaowei’s makeup, using a delicate technique to deepen his eye sockets, making his facial features even more defined. As the villa’s lights dimmed, Gu Xiaowei looked like an ethereal, icy spirit.  

Gu Xiaowei raised his eyes and looked toward Luo Yu, who was standing by the wall behind the director with his arms crossed.  

Though standing in the shadows, Luo Yu’s slight smile seemed to light up the space.

This scene may look simple, only requiring Lu Pingfeng to walk with a knife while sleepwalking, but without any counterpart actors, there’s no plot, dialogue, or tension from a confrontation.

An outsider might think this scene is easy, just a matter of posing while walking.

But Luo Yu knew this scene was crucial. It needed to convey the insidious fear and doubt brought by sleepwalking; otherwise, the police’s suspicions about Lu Pingfeng’s mental state due to sleepwalking, or even their theories linking it to the case, wouldn’t hold up.

As the clapperboard sounded, the entire villa fell into dead silence.

The observing actors, including Luo Yu, Yan Jun, and Nie Yangchen, stood pressed against the wall, controlling their breathing, trying to make themselves invisible.

Lu Pingfeng stood at the junction between the living room and the stairs, holding a knife in his hand, the blade smeared with dark, half-dried liquid.

His expression was calm and peaceful, his eyes half-closed, not looking down but moving slowly towards the direction of the studio.

Each step was relaxed, and his grip on the knife was as casual as if he were holding a paintbrush, showing no hint of violence.

The liquid dripped at his feet; he wasn’t wearing shoes.

Though he was physically present, he seemed like a soulless shell, controlled by some unknown power.

This blend of decadent gloom and elegance shattered in an instant when Lu Pingfeng’s hand holding the knife suddenly trembled. He paused in front of a wall, turned as if admiring something, took two steps back, then raised the blade and stabbed at something in the air.

A chilling smile appeared on his face, like a demon taking residence in his body.

Luo Yu heard Yan Jun swallow hard. Despite the absence of tomato-sauce splatters or contorted bodies crawling out in horror, Lu Pingfeng’s back held a sinister struggle, as if some sharp desire was about to burst out and wreak havoc.

“Cut!” Sheng Yunlan’s voice sounded, and everyone finally released the breath they had been holding.

At that moment, Gu Xiaowei, holding the knife, turned around, looking in Luo Yu’s direction, but his gaze ultimately settled on Nie Yangchen’s face.

Nie Yangchen, who had been about to move, suddenly felt like his body was paralyzed, his blood frozen, even his fingertips icy.

He even had an irrational thought that Gu Xiaowei might walk over and split open his body with that knife, revealing it to the world.

Until Luo Yu spoke, “Do you want some tea? You’ve already finished your coffee, but I still have some Pu’er tea.”

In an instant, the murderous tension directed at Nie Yangchen vanished, and the entire atmosphere lightened.

The villa lights turned on, casting a warm glow over Gu Xiaowei’s face, dispelling that lifeless chill from earlier.

Luo Yu unscrewed his thermos, intending to pour tea into Gu Xiaowei’s cup lid, but to his surprise, Gu Xiaowei simply took Luo Yu’s thermos and drank a big gulp.

“Is this the Pu’er tea that President Jiang gave you? The taste is a bit…”

“It’s Pu’er tea powder, just mixed directly with hot water. It arrived by courier today—does it not taste good?”

Since Luo Yu only had Ye Shengyi with him, and Xiao Ye was already serving as both his makeup artist and assistant, it wasn’t feasible to make him grind the tea brick with a little mallet, let alone prepare and brew it for him.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“It’s fine. Although it lacks a bit of ceremony, I guess the tea polyphenol content is higher in tea powder?”

“The fact that you could tell it wasn’t brewed tea in one sip shows the flavor and aroma are different from a tea cake.” Luo Yu patted his shoulder with a smile. “Come on, let’s go see how it turned out with the director.”

“Alright.”

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On the second floor of the villa, there was a restroom. Gu Xiaowei came out of the studio and went upstairs.

Luo Yu followed closely behind him. Just as Gu Xiaowei entered the restroom, Luo Yu intended to wait outside, accompanying him, watching him.

Who knew that after entering, Gu Xiaowei didn’t lock the door but left a crack open.

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From time to time, staff members passed by, and Luo Yu was worried that this guy would be seen. Wasn’t he just going to relieve himself?

Just as Luo Yu’s hand grasped the doorknob, intending to shut it tightly, he suddenly noticed Gu Xiaowei standing right in front of the crack in the door. The light was dim, and Gu Xiaowei’s dark eyes made Luo Yu’s breath catch.

“What are you…”

Before Luo Yu could finish his sentence, he was pulled inside by Gu Xiaowei.

With a “click,” the door was locked.

Luo Yu was pressed against the ceramic tile wall, his back cold, facing a stern looking Gu Xiaowei.

“Why are you following me?” Gu Xiaowei’s voice was soft, but his icy tone carried a slight echo in the confined space, reminding Luo Yu of stone sculptures in ancient temples, their downcast eyes appearing compassionate but actually heartless and loveless.

But Luo Yu knew better than anyone that Gu Xiaowei possessed emotions richer than ordinary people.

“Didn’t we agree that I’d accompany you?” Luo Yu looked into Gu Xiaowei’s eyes and replied seriously.

Gu Xiaowei smiled, reaching out to brush the hair at Luo Yu’s forehead aside, with a hint of nonchalance.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid… of what? Afraid you’ll become Lu Pingfeng, or afraid you’ll learn from that psychologist and kill me while I’m asleep tonight, then dissect my back…”

“Stop talking!” Gu Xiaowei covered Luo Yu’s mouth, his gaze suddenly turning cold.

Luo Yu closed his eyes and let out a low laugh; Gu Xiaowei could feel that slight movement against his palm.

Just as he retracted his hand, Luo Yu took a step forward and embraced him.

“See, even imagining killing me elicits such a strong reaction from you. If you sleepwalk tonight, at most you’ll just…” Luo Yu’s hand slid up along Gu Xiaowei’s spine, gently cradling the back of his neck.

“At most what?” Gu Xiaowei asked.

“Draw a few sketches of me. Just like Lu Pingfeng holding a knife in his sleep, he merely took the knife as a brush to paint.”

“What about the bloodstains on the wall? What do they mean to Lu Pingfeng?”

“They are dots, lines, shapes—an inner map left by that psychologist. He can’t even control his own inner madness; how could he possibly cure Lu Pingfeng, who isn’t actually insane?”

As Luo Yu’s words fell, Gu Xiaowei raised his hand and tightly embraced him, like vines clinging to a sturdy tree, drawing life source only from him.

In that small, dark space, Luo Yu felt as if he completely possessed Gu Xiaowei.

But this sense of satisfaction was fleeting.

The megaphone of the crew echoed throughout the villa: “The third scene for today is ready—starting in five minutes!”

Gu Xiaowei slowly released his arms, allowing Luo Yu to breathe. He didn’t completely let go, as if his heart were filled with countless threads of attachment, wanting to linger in that moment.

Until someone knocked on the restroom door, “Teacher Gu, Teacher Gu, are you in there? The next scene is about to start!”

“I’ll be right out,” Gu Xiaowei said, raising his head to respond towards the door.

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

Once that person left, Gu Xiaowei took a step back, finally releasing his hands from Luo Yu.

“Thank you,” Gu Xiaowei said softly.

“Do you want me to straighten your collar for you?” Luo Yu said half-jokingly.

Gu Xiaowei smiled faintly, opened the restroom door, and walked out.

Light poured in, landing on Gu Xiaowei’s shoulders.

At that moment, Luo Yu felt a bit more at ease.

As Gu Xiaowei stepped down the first step, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at Luo Yu, who was following behind him.

“I want,” Gu Xiaowei said.

“What do you want?”

“Straighten my collar,” Gu Xiaowei said, tilting his head slightly.

Around them were staff members bustling with lights and props.

They were the only still center in this busy, swirling world.

Though Gu Xiaowei’s face bore Lu Pingfeng’s gloom, it had a warm yet fragile outline.

Luo Yu stood at the foot of the stairs, fingers pinching Gu Xiaowei’s collar, carefully smoothing it out. His fingers slipped between the collar and Gu Xiaowei’s skin, moving slightly, but Gu Xiaowei showed no aversion, maintaining his upward tilt.

So obedient.

“All set, go ahead.” Luo Yu gently patted his chest.

“En.”

Only then did Gu Xiaowei turn and head down.

The next scene was set in Lu Pingfeng’s studio, focusing on a dialogue between Zhao Sicheng and Lu Pingfeng.

In the entire studio, aside from the easels and paint, there were only three people: Zhao Sicheng, Lu Pingfeng, and a police officer taking notes.

The camera was set, and the lighting was adjusted; with limited space in the studio, all unnecessary personnel had been asked to leave the scene.

Luo Yu held Gu Xiaowei’s thermos and approached the director, able to see the actors’ most direct performances on the monitor.

The studio was brightly lit, but Lu Pingfeng absorbed all the light in the space like a black hole.

Zhao Sicheng sat opposite him, his expression objective and cold, not even bothering to offer a polite smile.

“Mr. Lu, I’ll skip the useless opening remarks. I’m here today to ask you, what is your relationship with the original owner of this villa, Mr. Kong Qun?”

Lu Pingfeng answered calmly, “He was my psychologist. To be precise, he served as my psychological counselor from the age of twelve to twenty-two.”

“It seems you had a deep bond with Mr. Kong Qun. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bought this house after his suicide,” Zhao Sicheng said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

However, Lu Pingfeng did not get angered by this. “In the process of investigating Mr. Kong Qun’s case, the police should have obtained Dr. Kong’s psychological assessments of me, indicating emotional cognitive disorder and antisocial personality disorder. Emotionally, there is no distinction for me between living and non-living things in this world. Therefore, I have no so-called feelings for Dr. Kong, and I feel nothing about his death.”

Zhao Sicheng continued, “According to the records from that year, you were the one who reported the case.”

Lu Pingfeng nodded. “Yes. It was the day I was scheduled for psychological counseling. The villa’s door was open, I went in, saw what happened, and then called the police.”

“From the time you made the call to when the police arrived on the scene, about ten minutes passed. You stood in front of that wall of blood for the entire ten minutes. According to the officer who answered the call, you looked completely entranced.”

Lu Pingfeng showed no impatience towards Zhao Sicheng’s entanglement with various issues from the past case. On the contrary, he was calm and composed, as if he had long been prepared with all the answers. Or perhaps he truly didn’t care, which allowed him to describe past events without any emotional coloration.

“I have no feelings about life and death, but my perception of colors and lines is very strong. At that time, what I saw was not a corpse, but colors and lines; they together formed a painting. The police also had psychological experts assess me, which confirmed my ‘likes and dislikes’ for this world.”

“I heard a rumor that Dr. Kong’s wife, Chen Chao, had always liked handsome young men like you, so she took special care of you. This caused Dr. Kong’s dissatisfaction. When Chen Chao found out that Dr. Kong was preparing to divorce her, she acted without hesitation and gave Dr. Kong a lethal drug, but unexpectedly it was switched for a psychiatric medication that Dr. Kong prescribed for you.”

Zhao Sicheng looked coldly at Lu Pingfeng, wanting to delve into his mind, peeling back the layers to reveal all the darkness hidden in his thoughts.

“Oh… is it that small round white pill?” Lu Pingfeng tilted his head back, lost in thought. “Dr. Kong said that when I felt excited upon seeing dead things, like dead sparrows, kittens, puppies, or even humans, I should take this medication. But the problem is… I find them beautiful and wish to quietly observe and accompany the dead animals, yet I have never felt excited.”

“You’re saying you never took that medication. But it was put in Dr. Kong’s red wine, causing him to have extreme hallucinations that led him to kill his wife?” Zhao Sicheng asked.

“Right, I hardly had the chance to take that medication, and it instead became the reason I was mocked and isolated at school. So, I returned the medication. However, Dr. Kong wasn’t there that day, so I handed it to Mrs. Kong. What Mrs. Kong did afterward has nothing to do with me.”

Lu Pingfeng leaned slightly forward, meeting Zhao Sicheng’s gaze without fear. His face still wore a polite and appropriate smile, but it made Zhao Sicheng shiver.

Because there was no doubt that Mrs. Kong attempted to murder Mr. Kong, but there had always been another theory among the police.

That was that Lu Pingfeng never believed Dr. Kong could cure him, nor could he control his condition. Lu Pingfeng returned the medication to Dr. Kong and intentionally handed it to Mrs. Kong, knowing she had already harbored thoughts of murdering Dr. Kong, thus providing her with “timely assistance.”

No one knew whether Lu Pingfeng mentioned that the medication could cause hallucinations in normal people when he handed it to Mrs. Kong.

Or perhaps… did he guide Mrs. Kong to mistakenly believe that the medication’s effects and ingredients were similar to those of a sleeping pill, which could be used for murder?

Using Mrs. Kong’s hands, Lu Pingfeng took revenge on Dr. Kong, who labeled him as having an “antisocial personality.” For a psychiatrist to go mad because of his own prescribed psychiatric medication was the greatest irony for him.

But none of this had evidence.

“So, returning to the original question, if you bought this villa not for the purpose of revisiting the crime scene, then why? Was it cheap because it’s a murder house? But with your assets, you shouldn’t care about that little price difference, right?” Zhao Sicheng asked.

Lu Pingfeng turned his face, his fingertip tapping by his ear as if weighing how to answer this question.

“In fact, the decision to buy and live in this villa was arranged by my agent, Ai Lin. The value of a painting is sometimes related to the story behind it. Living in such a murder house, having witnessed the death scene of my psychiatrist and his wife, and painting death-themed artworks in this murder house provides essential material for publicity and business—everything for commercial value.”

Zhao Sicheng’s gaze turned cold. “Ai Lin?”

“Yes. From the buying and selling, the transfer, even the renovation and the later installation of cameras, it was all arranged by her. I can eat, sleep, and paint anywhere.” Lu Pingfeng said lightly.

Zhao Sicheng lowered his eyes, falling into deep thought. “What about the models you paint? Did you choose them, or did she arrange them for you?”

“Of course it was her. I don’t care who my model is, as long as they can bend backward. I could even paint you, Captain Zhao.”

Zhao Sicheng keenly caught a piece of information. “You just said the cameras were installed by the other?”

“Yes.”

“Does Ai Lin have the keys to your villa?” Zhao Sicheng asked again.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Yes.”

A certain overlooked thought flashed through Zhao Sicheng’s mind; perhaps he missed some important information.

Zhao Sicheng lowered his head and took out his phone to send a message to his colleagues: [Check the surveillance before each of Lu Pingfeng’s sleepwalking incidents. Was there a shadow passing from the studio to the kitchen?]

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After staring for a while, even the other staff members noticed and occasionally glanced at Luo Yu.

Luo Yu took two steps back and hid behind Yan Jun.

Finally… no one continued to look at him.

“You look really eye-catching in this haggard state today,” Yan Jun said.

“Really? Is it because of today’s makeup?”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Though it was three parts makeup, seven parts staying up too late.

While they were chatting, Gu Xiaowei unexpectedly walked up to them, hands in pockets, leaning in to look at Luo Yu.

Luo Yu felt his neck tilt back as he was looked at, “What are you looking at…?”

Surely, he didn’t have something on his face that he hadn’t cleaned properly.

“You don’t look like you stayed up late; you look like you’ve indulged too much,” Gu Xiaowei said, a faint smile appearing on his face.

Yan Jun actually nodded in agreement, “Hahaha! That’s right! I was actually going to ask—dude, how’s your kidney doing?”

Luo Yu’s expression cooled, and he cracked his fingers, ready to fight, “Brother Yan, try it and you’ll know if my kidney is fine!”

Yan Jun quickly shook his hands and retreated, “No need! No need! I’m a family man who upholds male virtues. I just came out to shoot some scenes to earn a bit of baby milk money! I never try what I shouldn’t!”

An arm reached around from behind, suddenly pulling Luo Yu back.

His back bumped into someone’s chest, and Luo Yu didn’t need to turn around to know it was Gu Xiaowei.

“Brother Yan can’t handle trying you.”

His voice was close, the vibration of the air making Luo Yu’s ears itch.

“No more trying! No more trying! We’re about to shoot!” Luo Yu pushed Gu Xiaowei’s arm up, pointing to the opposite side, “You should be in the art studio. Go on. Don’t interfere with my evidence collection.”

Gu Xiaowei seemed to huff, unwilling… ah no, it was leisurely as he entered the art studio.

Sheng Yunlan explained each person’s position in this group scene and what to pay attention to during the performance. The script supervisor shouted the scene number, and the scene began.

Zhao Sicheng entered the villa with relevant documents and evidence gatherers carrying toolboxes.

Uncle He was completely at a loss, having never seen such big fanfare. “Captain Zhao, what is this… what’s going on? So many people right away? Mr. Wen is here too? What is happening?”

Wen Yuchi gently calmed Uncle He’s emotions, saying, “It’s not a big deal; just a routine investigation based on the case.”

“Is… is there something wrong with Mr. Lu?” Uncle He asked cautiously.

“Just because we’re investigating in Mr. Lu’s villa doesn’t mean he did something wrong. You should show the documents Captain Zhao brought to Mr. Lu.”

Uncle He revealed a troubled expression, “Mr. Lu is in the art studio. Once he gets into the zone, he probably won’t open the door for anyone knocking.”

But just then, the door to the art studio opened, and Lu Pingfeng stood at the doorway, wearing a smock. His gaze swept across the entire living room, locking eyes with Wen Yuchi.

After a polite nod, he turned to Zhao Sicheng.

“Captain Zhao, it seems the surveillance footage you took that day revealed important clues,” Lu Pingfeng said in a calm voice.

Zhao Sicheng handed the evidence documents to Lu Pingfeng, his gaze filled with scrutiny, “Mr. Lu, do you know that you sleepwalk?”

“I know,” Lu Pingfeng replied.

“Then do you know that when you sleepwalk, you hold a knife?” Zhao Sicheng’s voice dropped an octave.

“I know.”

“Then do I still need to ask my next question?” Zhao Sicheng’s gaze scanned Lu Pingfeng inch by inch. What other secrets was this great painter hiding that they didn’t know about?

“You want to ask if I know there’s blood on the knife I’m holding.” Lu Pingfeng lowered his eyes, a hint of sarcasm appearing in his polite smile. “The red doesn’t necessarily mean it’s blood; it could also be paint.”

Zhao Sicheng nodded, “Whatever it is, we’ll find out.”

“Luminol reaction,” Lu Pingfeng said, looking at Wen Yuchi, who was standing at an angle behind Zhao Sicheng.

As long as they checked the path Lu Pingfeng took while sleepwalking for a luminol reaction, they would know if the drops on his knife were paint or something else.

Wen Yuchi nodded.

Lu Pingfeng continued, “As for the two previous murders imitating my artworks, I have alibis for both of them. So Captain Zhao, what’s the point of investigating the bloodstains in my villa? Even if there are bloodstains, according to the timestamp on the footage, they have nothing to do with those two cases, do they?”

“Case investigation, no comment.”

In fact, Lu Pingfeng had sleepwalked on two occasions just before the victims were murdered.

This coincidence was unsettling upon reflection.

Zhao Sicheng turned his head and nodded to his team, “Everyone, pay attention: any decor or items that have been touched or moved in Mr. Lu’s home must be returned to their original places.”

“Received!” the team members responded in unison.

Zhao Sicheng made a gesture to Lu Pingfeng, “Mr. Lu, please. There are still some questions that need your answers.”

“Then let’s go to the art studio. For Captain Zhao’s questions, I will be forthright and thorough.”

Before turning away, Lu Pingfeng looked at Wen Yuchi, who was squatting down, opening the toolbox.

“Dr. Wen.”

“Hmm?” Wen Yuchi looked in Lu Pingfeng’s direction.

“This villa has been renovated. If you really want to see the luminol reaction, I suggest starting with the only thing that hasn’t been replaced.”

After saying that, Luo Pingfeng left.

The only thing that hasn’t been replaced… what could it be?

But their first step was to verify whether the drops on the knife in Lu Pingfeng’s hand were paint or blood.

They checked the path from the kitchen to the living room and from the living room to the art studio, the same route captured on the surveillance video, and found no luminol reaction.

So, Lu Pingfeng’s claim that the drops from his knife were all paint… was true.

The surveillance footage showed the cleaning lady wiping away the paint. If it had been blood, she would have been terrified, but from the footage, it was clear that she was accustomed to it; her expression only showed annoyance, not fear.

So the question arises: why did Lu Pingfeng have a knife while sleepwalking, and why was there paint on the knife?

Wen Yuchi recalled Lu Pingfeng’s earlier hint that the villa had been renovated.

But it couldn’t have been recent, as such a significant operation would definitely have been captured on surveillance.

Luo Yu took out his phone and searched online for this villa, only to find out that it had been bought five years ago and was the site of a shocking murder case.

The male owner of the villa, suffering from mental issues, hallucinated and killed his wife, then cut open the victim’s back, arranging the body to resemble a fallen angel hanging on the wall.

The graphic nature of the murder scene was so impactful that the police officers who came to gather evidence were unable to handle it and required several weeks of psychological counseling.

The news reported that the male owner was a psychologist, and the first person to discover the crime scene was a patient undergoing an in-home assessment.

Wow, Lu Pingfeng actually moved into a murder house; should one say he’s fearless, or does he simply enjoy this atmosphere?

Logically, this villa must have been thoroughly investigated. If they still wanted a luminol reaction…

Wen Yuchi stood up and looked around. The villa’s decor was too simple, so simple that there was no place left to hide any traces. He smiled helplessly, he also didn’t believe in ghosts. If a murder house could be found in a good location for a cheap price, he would think he had hit a jackpot.

The crystal chandelier above… based on the interior decorations circulating online, it should originally belong to this villa.

Could it be that the victim’s blood had splattered onto the chandelier?

Impossible, unless the victim was killed on the ceiling.

But speculation isn’t reality; it must be personally verified.

Wen Yuchi had Uncle He bring a ladder. He climbed up, sprayed the reagent on the chandelier, and sure enough, there was no reaction.

Then where are the traces Lu Pingfeng mentioned?

Their main purpose this time was to prove whether Lu Pingfeng had ever killed someone in his sleepwalking state or if he had crossed a boundary into that assessed antisocial personality. The timing of his sleepwalking was too coincidental; was it related to the murder cases?

Searching for the traces Lu Pingfeng spoke of had no essential connection to this case.

But Wen Yuchi had a hunch that finding these traces would help him understand the real Lu Pingfeng better.

He climbed down the ladder, and with each step back, he turned his head to see the photographic works hanging on the wall.

He suddenly realized something and hurried over to take all those photographic works down.

The wall was covered with a layer of exquisite wallpaper, and Wen Yuchi suddenly tore this layer of wallpaper off.

“Mr. Wen! What are you doing…” Uncle He stepped forward, wanting to stop him, but Wen Yuchi was too imposing, and Uncle He could only anxiously stand behind him.

The other team members were also stunned; they wanted to stop Wen Yuchi, but they were still a step too slow.

Wen Yuchi sprayed a reagent on the wall behind the wallpaper, revealing large patches of bloodstains.

Especially in the center of the wall, the bloodstains formed the shape of wings.

Everyone was frozen in place, unable to speak.

Uncle He hurriedly explained, “This isn’t done by Sir! This bloodstain has nothing to do with him! It was left by the previous owner of the house! It’s been five years! Five years!”

Wen Yuchi took a step back, and the luminescent reaction from the luminol in front of him created a powerful visual shock that surged outward… sending chills down everyone’s spines.

The entire world seemed to freeze.

Everyone looked at the wall with horrified expressions, except for Wen Yuchi, who slowly took out his small aluminum flask from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and took a big sip, but his gaze never left the wall.

It was as if he were the only person awake in this world.

After a full ten seconds, the sign that this scene was over was finally heard.

“Cut—”

“Very good! The atmosphere is nice! Let’s shoot a few more angles and wrap it up!”

Luo Yu took a deep breath, his heart racing violently; one hand, which had been clenched into a fist, relaxed, revealing a thin layer of sweat, while the other hand almost dropped the small aluminum flask.

What was inside the flask wasn’t sweet water, but a highly toxic substance that corroded the nerves.

At that moment, he understood not Wen Yuchi’s mindset, but the madness of Gu Xiaowei, who said he couldn’t escape from his role, wanting to leap from the heights of the city in a misunderstood frenzy.

In the script, everyone would question Lu Pingfeng’s mental state—what kind of person would live in such a murder house, eat, sleep, and create there?

Did Lu Pingfeng fall in love with the bloodstains on the wall? Did the blood of the fallen angel seem to him like a depiction of death? Did such a cruel image provide him with endless inspiration?

They all reached the same conclusion: Lu Pingfeng was just a madman.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Just like Gu Xiaowei, who couldn’t escape from his role, being watched over and restricted in his freedom. Because they all thought he was crazy.

In truth… he just had emotions that ran deeper than ordinary people and was more easily able to use his spirit to shape another illusory character.

Being treated as an outlier, judged as mentally unstable, and feeling out of place in this world was his greatest harm.

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