Chapter 78

Did I Just Max Out My Credit Card on a Murder Mystery Game?

Hu Xiu stood frozen, staring at the scene for a long time, as if waiting for Diao Zhiyu to notice her.

The veteran players beside her thought she was daydreaming and nudged her arm. “If you want to interact, just go upstairs. He comes here every day to look at Shen Ling.”

Experienced players in murder mystery games are often friendly and outgoing. Zhao Xiaorou nudged Hu Xiu. “Go on…”

But Hu Xiu didn’t move. Coming back to her senses, she asked the veteran player, “Does my storyline interact with him?”

“Reporter, right? In a little while, he’ll come down to gather intelligence and will happen to see the announcement of Du Mingquan and Shen Ling’s wedding. He’ll be furious. Whenever he hears Shen Ling’s name, he just gets agitated and rushes around.”

“So, he’s…”

“The male lead. Shen Ling was selected as Miss Shanghai and is a movie star. All the men in this building who are worth mentioning like her.”

“Both Han Yiqiu and Du Mingquan were originally assassins, but Du Mingquan is from the mafia, and his position is very high.”

“On the other hand, Han Yiqiu can’t reveal his identity, so even though he likes Shen Ling, there’s not much he can do about it.”

“And the ending?”

“We’ll have to see how the different factions fight it out. There are a lot of mini-scenes in the second half. He’ll have a big scene, but it’s slow, so take your time.”

Hu Xiu had been staring at Diao Zhiyu for so long, and Diao Zhiyu had been staring at Shen Ling on the first floor for just as long.

The gaze stretched on for so long that her eyes ached and her throat tightened. Even though she was looking up from the first floor, Diao Zhiyu, sitting on the second floor, was in full view—his jawline was clean, and his nose had a beautiful teardrop shape.

His hair had grown out, and his curly hair hung down to his ears. He crossed his arms in a white shirt, his face full of defiance. Then he stood up and walked away.

Her gaze shifted to the first floor, where Du Mingquan, wearing a black long coat, was holding Shen Ling in his arms. Han Yiqiu, who had fled, was clearly jealous.

Han Yiqiu didn’t even notice her. From this angle, with his arms crossed, it was hard to spot her.

With over a hundred players in the theater, it made sense that he didn’t see her. After all, he had a tendency to be face-blind.

Turning back to the newspaper office, the editor-in-chief was genuinely confused. “Where have you been?”

Before Hu Xiu could respond, Han Yiqiu had already arrived with seven or eight trainee intelligence officers in front of her.

Hu Xiu reminded herself to stay in character. Now she was a trainee reporter, and Diao Zhiyu was the actor with the Han Yiqiu name tag.

Han Yiqiu stood confidently at the door of the newsroom, picking up a newspaper and flipping through it. “Editor Zhang, I heard that the report ‘Japanese Soldier in Hongkou Shot, Three Bullets Wounding to the Chest’ was written by you?”

“Yes…”

“Do you have any intel on the killer? The assassination of Nanyuan is no small matter.”

“Well, you’d have to ask the police about that.”

“Your newspaper is always ahead with news. Why do you need to go to the police?”

“Well, why don’t you ask my trainees? They’ve just been out gathering news for me.”

Han Yiqiu’s gaze swept over the trainees, and Hu Xiu thought to herself, there’s no escaping now.

As expected, the face-blind Han Yiqiu’s gaze landed on her, and his expression and eyes changed.

Her heart skipped a beat, as if time had stopped. Both of them seemed to be searching for the missing two months in each other’s eyes. The expression on Diao Zhiyu’s face—joy, sadness, surprise—was easy for Hu Xiu to read. She didn’t shy away but returned all those emotions.

The group of people around them sensed the strange atmosphere. Even Editor Zhang Wen seemed puzzled.

Han Yiqiu shifted his gaze away, returning to his role. He then addressed Hu Xiu directly. “You, have you uncovered any information about arms and firearms?”

“No…” She had been too busy staring at him downstairs to have time to ask around, and besides, she didn’t even know the layout of the building.

“Editor Zhang, this new reporter you recruited doesn’t seem up to the task,” he remarked, clearly criticizing her.

Before she could get angry, Han Yiqiu noticed a report on the table about Du Mingquan and Shen Ling’s upcoming marriage and slammed the table in anger. “Back to the intelligence department. Let’s go.”

The reporter playing Han Yiqiu’s character remarked, “See that? That’s Du Mingquan’s rival, Han Yiqiu. He was a bank clerk, but now he’s gone off to work in the intelligence department. He’s bad news.”

His figure, as he stormed off, was graceful, and Hu Xiu froze. Only two months had passed, and his acting had gotten so much better?

A new player nearby sighed, “He’s so handsome, and yet he’s the villain?”

Editor Zhang Wen, still in character, said, “In the concession, where can you distinguish between justice and evil? You all better open your eyes.”

Hu Xiu had planned to finish her tasks and then take another look at Diao Zhiyu, but she got lost in the three-story building and couldn’t find the intelligence department.

After a disappointing end to the first half, she didn’t even have time to get familiar with the plot. She had no interest in hearing the debriefing. What different faction stories? She needed to find Diao Zhiyu!

After the first half, there was a voting session. As Hu Xiu stepped out with her sticker, she saw the actor list posted by the door.

Diao Zhiyu’s black, ear-length curly hair was something she had never seen before. He no longer looked like Qin Xiao Yi with his aloof demeanor. Instead, he was leaning against the railing she had seen before, confident and distant, as though holding onto some belief. His eyes held a story, and when he glanced at the camera, his expression wasn’t the same one Hu Xiu was familiar with.

Her heart fluttered painfully. Many hands surrounded her, and pale, soft hands were pressing stickers onto Han Yiqiu’s voting slot.

In the chaos, Hu Xiu ended up blocking the way. A young female player aggressively pushed past her. “Ah! My Qiu Qiu!”

Frustrated, Hu Xiu slapped her sticker over Diao Zhiyu’s photo, covering his face entirely. “What Qiu Qiu! Everywhere he goes, there are piles of female fans!”

At mealtime, Zhao Xiaorou cheerfully recapped, “I roughly counted. We opened 11 storylines today, but the hidden Communist faction storyline wasn’t triggered. Besides the newspaper editor and the mixed-race actress from the US consulate, the rest are all handsome men. Shanghai Windstorm is really good at business! Did you get the hang of the first half?”

“Of course not,” Hu Xiu replied, looking up at the second floor. An actor was looking down, greeting the veteran players. Yet, she still didn’t spot Diao Zhiyu.

Zhao Xiaorou was still thinking to herself, “I don’t really understand. Each main storyline is kept separate, only occasionally interacting with one another. I’ve only seen three or four handsome guys. When does the second half start?”

Unexpectedly, the second half was a free activity. The concession area was locked down, and players who were once neutral had to join one faction in order to find their guarantor and work for them to escape.

There were 50 NPCs in total, divided into Chinese, Communist, Japanese, and American factions (blue, red, yellow, black). Once you choose a faction, you cannot switch to another. If you align with the same faction and obtain five passes of the same color, you can escape successfully. You could also assassinate NPCs from opposing factions to gain assassination missions.

Hu Xiu ran up and down the floors, thinking she should first collect three cards before looking for Han Yiqiu.

Otherwise, if she spent too long catching up with him, she wouldn’t even be able to get a card and would be unable to escape. Han Yiqiu was from the Military Intelligence Department, so he was affiliated with the Nationalist Party. She needed to get a card from the Nationalist faction!

The tasks for finding a guarantor were increasingly difficult. After some trickery, she finally obtained the last card and ran into Han Yiqiu. Two months had passed, and she felt a bit nervous: “Qiu Qiu!”

She wasn’t sure how to address him—she couldn’t just call him Qin Shaoyi. Han Yiqiu turned around, his tone unfamiliar: “What did you call me?”

“Minister Han...?” Thank goodness for the plot, or she wouldn’t even know how to start the conversation after such a long time apart.

“Director...” Han Yiqiu glanced at Shen Ling downstairs without looking at her. “Do you need something?”

“I’m defecting to the Nationalist Party...”

Han Yiqiu paused, but didn’t break character. “Let me see your cards.”

Hu Xiu took out four blue cards, and Han Yiqiu smiled. “Sorry, I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

He pulled out a red card from his pocket and waved it in front of her. “Move aside, I need to go downstairs.”

Damn it, she picked the wrong person—he was from the red faction!

“Are you okay?” Hu Xiu instinctively blurted out, looking at him shyly.

Han Yiqiu pursed his lips, his eyes still in character. After a second, he answered, “I didn’t understand what you just said.”

He stepped aside and went downstairs—neither catching up nor acknowledging her as an ally.

Hu Xiu chased him for two steps, but then saw Han Yiqiu go downstairs, take a bouquet of roses from his pocket, and approach Shen Ling to confess.

His confession wasn’t as aloof and quirky as Qin Shaoyi’s to Lin Qiumei; instead, he stood in front of her solemnly, sincerity written all over his face, even a little... foolish: “Shen Ling, I like you!”

The players screamed and cheered, but Shen Ling grabbed the flowers and tossed them into the trash can. “I’m getting married. Du Mingquan is my husband. Don’t come back here again.”

Hu Xiu watched Han Yiqiu in a daze. His entire state was no longer just the frustration of love unreturned, but layered with complexity: pain, coldness, and an undercurrent of emotion...

The raw edge of his personality was starting to shine through. Many players looked at him and said, “Oh my god, he’s almost too handsome...”

Perhaps it was her fault.

And that wasn’t the end. She and a group of old players were guarding the hospital. Sure enough, Han Yiqiu rushed in holding Shen Ling, who had been shot, to the emergency room (he was even wearing a blood-stained shirt). When Du Mingquan arrived and saw the doctor shaking his head, he punched Han Yiqiu to the ground, then pulled out a gun: “Han Yiqiu, I don’t care who your father is, from now on, I’ll only avenge this grudge on you!”

“I haven’t even asked if you’re the one who did it!”

“Don’t think I don’t know who else could be such a sharpshooter as you!”

Du Mingquan stormed into the emergency room, leaving Han Yiqiu, who had no connection to Shen Ling by marriage, kneeling outside the door with tears streaming down his face.

Hu Xiu watched from the side, her heart breaking. Some players tried to comfort Han Yiqiu, but he climbed up and asked, “Who did it? Was it you? Can anyone tell me?”

Zhao Xiaorou came over, saw Hu Xiu also shedding tears, and looked confused: “What happened? I went to do a task and came back, and you’re here crying?”

Hu Xiu knew this was all part of the show, and she also knew that the actor playing Han Yiqiu was still in character. But thinking back to the night they broke up, it was just like how Han Yiqiu had left her house, tears all over his face, saying, “Sister, your heart is too cold.”

The final hour was filled with many smaller scenes, too many to keep track of. She searched everywhere for Han Yiqiu but couldn’t find him.

The Saint Anna Ballroom, the consulate entrance, the church hall—there was drama everywhere, even fighting...

The red faction’s ending was triggered. A beam of light shone on the rooftop, where Han Yiqiu shot and killed five Japanese military police in Hongkou, echoing the gunshot at the beginning of the show.

He put away his gun, coldly looked down, and the narrator’s voice rang out: “In 1941, the concession lost its autonomy and fell under Japanese rule. The five gunshots did not signify the end. Chaos remains in chaotic times, and Shanghai remains an isolated island. What makes this world turn is not deceit or intrigue, but sincere hearts and eternal love.”

If Qin Shaoyi in “Snowpiercer” was characterized by his affection and unrequited love, Han Yiqiu in “Shanghai Windstorm” carried the weight of morality and faith, with his sense of mission surpassing love—his acting skills had improved dramatically.

After the show ended, the actors came out to take their bows. Hu Xiu walked up to Han Yiqiu—

The boy was still in character, beads of sweat on his forehead, smiling as he greeted other players. When his gaze landed on her, he subconsciously tightened his smile.

She gently placed her sticker on the voting board and stood at the door waiting for the actors to leave.

The venue for “Shanghai Windstorm” was huge, and 50 actors filed out in a grand procession. Around Deao Zhiyu, there were many female players taking pictures with him, giving him gifts. Deao Zhiyu politely declined, continually thanking them. Some female players enthusiastically asked to add him on WeChat, but he pressed his palms together, smiling indifferently, and throughout the process, he maintained sincere eye contact, chatting, occasionally answering a line from the script. Empty-handed, he exited the stage without ever looking at Hu Xiu.

Before going upstairs, he couldn’t resist glancing back at Hu Xiu from afar, then quickly disappearing into the actors’ rest area—he still cared about her!

Once indifferent, his gaze had transformed into something intense, like when their hands had once touched, breaths mingled, and memories flooded her mind. Hu Xiu watched the stairs leading to the actors’ rest area, her heart racing wildly.

In the dressing room, she overheard female players chatting while changing clothes: “That actor playing Han Yiqiu is so mysterious. He won’t accept gifts, and there’s no chance to get close to him. I have a friend who wants to pursue him. She comes every week, tries to have someone add him on WeChat, but can’t. Recently, she’s so frustrated that she hasn’t even come back.”

“Some say he’s single, while others say he has a girlfriend, but no one can get him to open up. Apparently, he used to be an NPC in Snowpiercer, and his popularity skyrocketed. He brought along a bunch of fans when he came to Shanghai Windstorm.

The people who can afford to attend are mostly wealthy women. There are only four shows a week, and some come here and spend the entire weekend just to follow him.

But I think he’s okay, not particularly handsome to the point that it’s worth getting so obsessed over.”

Hu Xiu came out of the changing room, her face green with jealousy. Zhao Xiaorou shot her a look, and the meaning behind it was clear to her—”Told you to break up, now you’re regretting it, huh?”

On the way home, Zhao Xiaorou fired at her like a machine gun: “Are you stupid? You thought he’d go into acting and become an idol, but you broke up with him, and now he’s still doing NPCs? The most popular one, and nothing can get through him. Your boyfriend’s gone, right?

If I had known he’d stay as an NPC, why the hell did you break up with him? That little brat, Diao Zhi Yu! Don’t let me see him in REGARD, or I’ll break his legs!”

Hu Xiu stared out the window, her mind filled with questions. What does he do on weekdays if he’s doing NPC work on weekends?

Is he honing his acting skills? Filming movies? Directing? Or does he have other plans? A series of questions flooded her mind. She couldn’t help but text him: “I didn’t expect to see you here. How have you been?”

The WeChat message was silent, as if he had decided not to reply. The car ride home took an hour and a half, and Hu Xiu said nothing, suddenly slapping her thigh. “I get it now...”

Zhao Xiaorou jumped in shock, “I almost fell asleep, what did you figure out?”

“Next week, I’m coming back for more murder mystery games. It’s just bankruptcy, and I’m not the same Hu Xiu I used to be. If he won’t contact me outside the game, I’ll just find out what’s going on inside the game!”

She immediately booked a ticket for the next week and carefully studied the story and twelve factions. The background was Shanghai’s concession in 1942, after it had fallen and been occupied by the Japanese military, with a military police crackdown—this corresponds to the historical Hongkou district. The story starts with the assassination of a Japanese officer, and Han Yiqiu was supposed to be the illegitimate son of a gang boss, who was supposed to study well but, after discovering his true heritage, joined the Chinese Nationalist Party and became an underground communist...

Not only that, she went into the Weibo super topic, seriously researching the roles Diao Zhi Yu had played: ruthless Japanese soldiers, deputy director of the military department Dai Li, and the head of the business association—Vanilla King...

In just a month and a half, he had indeed worked hard.

On the weekend, the temperature was around 36°C, and Hu Xiu arrived at the venue, lining up to draw roles. In the first half, she drew the role of a bank trader in the business association, making dirty money, and in the second half, she went to a cult church to negotiate with the evil, charming man.

She couldn’t help but feel that, if she wanted to see Diao Zhi Yu play once in the murder mystery game, her luck was unusually bad. The two tasks in the first half had nothing to do with Han Yiqiu.

In the second half, she seized the opportunity and immediately went to find Han Yiqiu—

“Today, I’m here to find you. Whether you’re in the red or black faction, you can’t escape when you see me.”

Han Yiqiu was sitting in the Intelligence Department, wearing a white shirt that revealed his Adam’s apple. When he saw her, he cleared his throat. “Looking for me?”

“Joining the party...”

The earphone feedback was a conversation with him. He looked up, his beautiful eyebrows and eyes matching his pleasant voice: “This week’s benefit, the first person to come find me will get a ten-second eye contact chance—it’s you.”

Hu Xiu furrowed her brow. “I suspect you’re setting me up.”

Han Yiqiu tapped his earphone, indicating that he was speaking truthfully. He stood up, walked closer to Hu Xiu, and the familiar scent of mint came from him. She couldn’t help but suspect that he had already anticipated her coming. “Next, you have to recite the oath with me and then answer three questions.”

The oath was nothing more than the party’s membership oath, but Hu Xiu was more concerned about the three questions. Diao Zhi Yu, a man accustomed to improvisation, would definitely take advantage of the situation.

Sure enough, he fixed his gaze on her. “Why are you here?”

“For you...”

“Will you serve me loyally?”

“It depends on whether you’re a good person.”

Han Yiqiu raised an eyebrow. “Your attitude isn’t proper. You won’t get the card.”

“There’s surveillance above. Don’t even think about it. What’s the third question?”

“Shen Ling, who is more suited for me, Du Mingquan or me?”

“Du—Ming—Quan,” Hu Xiu answered slowly.

Han Yiqiu stepped back, his expression serious. “The card’s gone. You can go.”

Deliberately making things difficult!

Another female player rushed in, and she was forcibly pushed out of the intelligence room—the door was shut.

Hu Xiu stood there, staring at the hallway’s surveillance camera. “Did you see that? Did you all see that? Your great Director Han is deliberately making things hard for the members of the Cult!”

Angrily stomping her feet, Hu Xiu grabbed five Japanese faction cards and stood at the ballroom entrance, waiting for Han Yiqiu to come down and confess his feelings.

As soon as Shen Ling appeared, Han Yiqiu, holding a bouquet of roses, nervously waited for the right moment. Hu Xiu stood next to Shen Ling, coquettishly calling, “Mrs. Du, Mrs. Du, you look beautiful today, truly a perfect match with Mr. Du—”

The surrounding players giggled. Han Yiqiu shot her a fierce glare and proceeded with his confession.

Hu Xiu crossed her arms and watched him fail at his confession, leisurely strolling to the hospital entrance, waiting to see Shen Ling get killed, and Han Yiqiu kneeling in tears. Female players gathered around, comforting him: “Director Han, don’t cry. Once a person dies, they can’t come back...”

Han Yiqiu extended his hand to the other female players. “Help me up. I need to find the murderer and take revenge!”

The female players eagerly reached out to him. Hu Xiu stood there, dumbfounded. What is he doing? Diao Zhi Yu, didn’t we break up? Yet you’re here playing jealous?

As the game neared its end, Hu Xiu saw the new ending for Han Yiqiu. She realized that in order to protect the identity of the informant, Han Yiqiu had personally shot and killed Shen Ling from a distance.

Holding the urn at the station, he whispered Shen Ling’s nickname, “Yueyue, I’m taking you home now.”

She couldn’t help but admit, even if it was just acting, his handsome face, imbued with soul, was an incredibly communicative language.

Moved to tears, Hu Xiu immediately booked next week’s Shanghai Windstorm...

Damn it, I clearly got dumped, but why am I still so into this? I’m such a lovesick fool!