Cat 147: The True Culprit

Chapter 147: The True Culprit

Yan Jiyun had no real musical talent—in fact, he was practically tone-deaf—but he couldn’t deny that Han Ruibai played the piano beautifully.

He might not understand, but Qi Feng did.

Han Ruibai was playing a piece with a lively, cheerful classical tone. If not for the current atmosphere, Yan Jiyun would have liked to jump onto the piano and watch him play.

Halfway through the piece, Han Ruibai’s fingers paused. He looked toward Qi Feng, the black cat crouched at his feet, and Xue Ping.

“You want to know about Xiao Yue? You think I was the one who did what happened to Yang Pingping?” Han Ruibai’s voice was full of sorrow. “Suicide was Xiao Yue’s choice. I did nothing. Or maybe I did do something—maybe something I never realized that led him to choose suicide.”

Yan Jiyun saw how calm he was, completely unruffled. He truly didn’t seem like a culprit; when he was playing just now, it had felt more like he was remembering someone.

He realized that just now, Qi Feng’s accusation had simply been a tactic to provoke him—to get Han Ruibai to talk about Xiao Yue.

Besides, just thinking logically, the system had announced that main quest 5 had been triggered at this point, which clearly meant that Han Ruibai knew the truth of Xiao Yue’s suicide, not necessarily that he was the culprit.

Qi Feng brought out his “identity” as an undercover police detective again and asked, “Can you tell me what Xiao Yue was like, in your eyes? What kind of person was he?”

Main quest 5 was to uncover the truth behind Xiao Yue’s suicide. Homicide and bullying had already been ruled out, so what was left? That meant the cause was either Xiao Yue’s own psychological issues or a matter of the heart.

If it was the former, some people might seem upbeat, but privately struggle with mental illness. If it builds up enough, it can erupt all at once—anything might happen then.

Both Qi Feng and Yan Jiyun wanted to know how others saw Xiao Yue.

At this point, they weren’t concerned about whether Han Ruibai had fainted on his own or been knocked out by someone else. First, the truth of Xiao Yue’s suicide needed to be unearthed. Once the truth about his relationships came to light, finding the real perpetrator would become much simpler. Identify the culprit, and finding the so-called “Mermaid” would be straightforward.

Han Ruibai fell silent, seemingly lost in memory. No one interrupted him.

Yan Jiyun hopped onto a clean chair and sprawled upon it; Qi Feng sat beside him. Xue Ping, still completely at sea, also found a place to sit.

The longer Han Ruibai kept silent, the more agitated Xue Ping grew, desperate to know about Xiao Yue. In contrast, Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng waited with patience for him to speak.

Watching Xue Ping’s conflicted expression, Yan Jiyun’s mind wandered—melodramatic soap operas, stepbrothers at each other’s throats, inheritance drama. Just when the fight is hottest, in comes the female lead, who’s nice to both, and the story shifts from inheritance to a love triangle.

How amusing.

Patience is a virtue—so long as you’re willing to wait, you’ll get results.

After nearly two minutes, Han Ruibai finally spoke. “Xiao Yue was a genius.”

Liu Yixuan had just described him that way as well. Xiao Yue’s genius was beyond question.

No one interrupted Han Ruibai’s recollections.

He spoke slowly. Looking first at Xue Ping, he continued, “At first, I wasn’t close to him. But one day, while I was practicing a new song in the classroom and sang a wrong note, he corrected me. After that, we started interacting more.”

Qi Feng said, “I’ve heard he was very positive, but also kept his distance.”

Han Ruibai chuckled lightly. “He was indeed as they say, kind of aloof, but ‘sunny’ isn’t quite the word I’d use.”

Qi Feng: “What do you mean?”

Yan Jiyun thought Qi Feng was an excellent listener—always able to follow a thread and gently prompt for key information.

In some ways, they were quite alike.

Han Ruibai went on. “How can someone truly sunny keep their distance from others? That’s a contradiction. Perhaps such people exist, but Xiao Yue wasn’t one of them. In public, he rarely spoke, almost silent. He was polite, but his eyes always held a trace of melancholy. The books he read, the music he listened to, the lyrics and melodies he wrote—none were particularly bright; on the contrary, they were cold, dark. If you saw his drawings, you’d realize his heart wasn’t exactly healthy.”

He paused. Qi Feng seized the opening: “How did you realize Xiao Yue was different from how others saw him?”

Han Ruibai replied, “After that first time he helped me, I started asking him for advice. I also wanted to be one of the three chosen for the national competition—it would help my college entrance, and Xue Ping knows my mother doesn’t really support my music pursuits.”

Qi Feng and Yan Jiyun turned to Xue Ping, who nodded, puzzled. “That’s true.”

Han Ruibai: “Not only did Xiao Yue keep people at arm’s length, he was solitary—maybe because his mind worked differently from others’. More than once, I caught a look in his eyes that said he didn’t care about anything. What others fought and competed for came naturally to him, within easy reach. Maybe because nobody understood him, he was lonely.”

Qi Feng concluded, “Xiao Yue was lonely.”

Han Ruibai: “He was. There was probably no one in the world who could understand him. He was on a different level from ordinary high schoolers whose worlds revolved around games or petty quizzes. And I couldn’t become the kind of friend who could reach his heart—I regret that.” He sighed.

Yan Jiyun flicked his tail in thought—it was true, some people are just too far ahead of their peers, unable to really connect with those around them. Over time, they end up isolated—not because others push them away, but because there’s no one they can confide in.

Still, Yan Jiyun thought Xiao Yue had regarded Han Ruibai as a friend, even if their time together had been short.

The root cause of Xiao Yue’s suicide was already clear—he’d lost hope in the world. No one knew why he chose that day, though.

Qi Feng shook his head. “I think Xiao Yue already considered you his friend. He shared his music with you, even taught you, didn’t he?”

Han Ruibai looked back over his last memories with Xiao Yue—it did seem like that. “Did he really think of me as a friend?”

Qi Feng: “Did you ever see Xiao Yue share music with your other roommates, Liu Yixuan or Yang Pingping?”

Yan Jiyun, inwardly: Precisely.

From this, it seemed most of what Liu Yixuan had said was true. But right now, no one had any motive to do such a thing for the sake of someone who’d been dead a year.

Clearly, this person’s actions had been premeditated for a while.

Han Ruibai thought for a moment. “No.”

Getting such a direct, deep look at Xiao Yue from Han Ruibai had revealed that, aside from his genius, his mental state was shaky—he might even have hidden, darker thoughts.

Qi Feng whispered to Xue Ping, “Was Han Ruibai a lot sunnier before?”

Xue Ping nodded. “Yeah. After the incident with Xiao Yue, he became much more withdrawn—quieter and even harder-working.”

The truly sunny one was Han Ruibai—not Xiao Yue.

Both Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng understood the core issue: It was Xiao Yue whose heart was clouded. His brilliance nearly led him astray; Han Ruibai’s presence had anchored him, and he may have chosen suicide as a way to fight that darkness.

Had he not gone to such an extreme, in time, with Han Ruibai’s influence, he might have carried on.

But things took a sudden turn—Xiao Yue was lost after all.

Why? Who was orchestrating all this?

Qi Feng asked, “Han Ruibai, do you know who Xiao Yue was in contact with before his suicide?” He specified, “Who did he meet, what did he do in the week before? Can you remember?”

Yan Jiyun watched Qi Feng at work—each question logically linked, step by step inching the truth closer. He truly seemed the detective.

Not bad; another skill to learn.

Han Ruibai thought hard. “The last week, besides class, he was just composing. One night, we went out for milk tea together. While I bought drinks, he ran into someone not far from school. They exchanged a few words. I didn’t see clearly who it was.”

Qi Feng: “Male or female?”

Han Ruibai: “A woman—looked like one of the teachers at our school. I figured she was just there on business and ran into him, but that’s all I know.”

A crucial question occurred to Qi Feng: “Which class was Xiao Yue in?”

Han Ruibai: “Class 6, same as Jiang Shiwen.”

Yan Jiyun remembered that Jiang Shiwen’s homeroom teacher was a woman, surname Lin.

Qi Feng: “How was Teacher Lin’s relationship with Xiao Yue?”

Han Ruibai: “She cared about him—he was her student, after all. But, I always felt, maybe it was just me, that she was excessively concerned about him. I never heard they were related in any way, though.”

He spoke frankly, unlike Liu Yixuan, who always hedged and tried to avoid trouble.

Qi Feng now circled Teacher Lin as a person of interest. “Was there anything else unusual you remember? How many teachers were in your training class?”

Han Ruibai: “Nothing in particular; everything seemed normal. There were five teachers, each with a different focus.”

Qi Feng: “Did Xiao Yue ever get especially close with any of the teachers? Do you remember which ones?”

Han Ruibai named the five, including the main person in charge who’d already left the school—the other four were still there.

Han Ruibai: “He wasn’t close with any of the teachers, really. They all adored him, since he was close to perfect. Honestly, I never understood why he felt the need to join the training class. He could’ve had a spot automatically.”

Qi Feng understood. “Maybe he wanted simply to be a high-achieving student, not a prodigy among prodigies.”

Yan Jiyun glanced up at Qi Feng, suddenly curious about whether he had been the high-achieving type.

At this point, Han Ruibai had offered a wealth of clues—truly the archetypal information-offering NPC. He was clearly not the villain.

Qi Feng had also gathered all he needed.

He scooped up Caramel, and said to Han Ruibai, “Xue Ping wants to speak with you. You two talk—we’ll be going.”

Han Ruibai called out, his curiosity not yet satisfied after being questioned so much, “Wait—how do you know Xiao Yue already considered me a friend?”

Qi Feng said, “Xiao Yue’s last composition was called ‘Mermaid’, right? You know it, don’t you?”

Han Ruibai’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I know it.”

Qi Feng: “Try playing it—you’ll understand.”

Yan Jiyun gazed at Qi Feng, his eyes burning. He didn’t know music, really—he could feel joy or sorrow in a tune, but to know from only the score whether it was happy or sad, that was out of reach. Yet Qi Feng could see it; he really was that accomplished.

Now, he understood—“Mermaid” was used here. It represented Xiao Yue’s final struggle, and the shift in his state of mind.

Since Han Ruibai wasn’t the mysterious figure, and also had no window to commit the crime, the suspect list shrank further.

A light flickered in Yan Jiyun’s mind—he remembered that Liu Yu, who liked Cheng Su, was also in Class 6. Why did Liu Yu think Cheng Su and Han Ruibai were dating?

The answer was becoming clear.

Yan Jiyun didn’t know if Qi Feng was aware that Liu Yu had locked Han Ruibai away.

Xue Ping had gone to look for Han Ruibai that night—surely Qi Feng had noticed how unusual that was.

The students from Senior 3, Class 6 contributed a lot to the “Mermaid” instance plot. If one didn’t suspect them now, they’d be useless.

Gathering up their things quickly, Qi Feng this time didn’t let Yan Jiyun ride his shoulder, but stuffed him into the backpack.

Yan Jiyun understood—Qi Feng had a plan. For now, he didn’t need backup; the kitten could keep acting the good, docile pet.

Qi Feng bolted from the music building and ran toward the teaching block, going straight upstairs to look for Liu Yixuan.

But Liu Yixuan wasn’t in class.

He dragged over a random student. “Where’s Liu Yixuan? Did he come back to class just now?”

The NPC classmate shook his head. “He came back for a bit, but got called away by a teacher.”

Qi Feng: “Which teacher?”

NPC: “I just heard someone say a teacher was looking for him, but I don’t know which one.”

Both Qi Feng and Yan Jiyun realized someone had engineered this chaos; Liu Yixuan or Han Ruibai was the true target.

After they’d met Liu Yixuan, quest 4 was completed. After meeting Han Ruibai and learning about Xiao Yue, quest 5 hadn’t yet prompted a completion. Clearly, events weren’t over.

Though they’d found Liu Yixuan, the story wasn’t finished—Yang Pingping and Liu Yixuan had been Xiao Yue’s roommates; Yang Pingping was now dead. The next target would surely be Liu Yixuan. The villain had seized the chance again—quest 4’s end was just the beginning.

They really should have protected Liu Yixuan.

Lan Mo and Qiu Xi had gone to the dorms and other venues to investigate students on the list, gathering clues, not knowing who the next target would be. Gu Wenzhu was watching for unusual activity in the teaching building, but hadn’t found anyone in time.

Now that quest 4 had concluded, the three would shift locations, but Qi Feng’s return was faster, so he’d missed them.

If Liu Yixuan had been called away by a teacher, it could only have been by Teacher Lin.

They’d narrowed the plot right down; only Teacher Qu retained some mystery. All the other NPCs were now clear.

Teacher Lin’s obsession with Xiao Yue, though its cause remained unknown, now made her their top priority to locate.

Qi Feng was about to head to the staff offices to ask about her when he saw Gu Wenzhu exit one.

Qi Feng quickly asked, “Is Lin, the homeroom teacher of Class 6, here?”

Gu Wenzhu, having had no contact with Liu Yixuan or Han Ruibai, didn’t know she was under suspicion, but Qi Feng’s question told him everything. He was meticulous with details.

He responded at once. “She’s not here. She seemed busy—came back about ten minutes ago, but then left again.”

Qi Feng: “Any idea where she went?”

It had taken about ten minutes to talk with Han Ruibai in the music building—Liu Yixuan would have just left there.

There was no need to even discuss Teacher Lin’s level of suspicion. The incident in the music building had been just ten minutes earlier—as to how she managed to knock out two students simultaneously, that remained a mystery.

Yan Jiyun mentally clicked his tongue—one had actually passed out, the other had faked it. No wonder Liu Yixuan seemed evasive when answering Qi Feng’s questions—he wasn’t trying to avoid suspicion over Xiao Yue, he’d already been duped by Teacher Lin for some other scheme.

Gu Wenzhu said, “She went downstairs. She was acting a bit strange, so I watched her—I think she headed toward the dorms, and she had one of her own students with her.”

Qi Feng: “No wonder Liu Yixuan followed her so readily. They’re all her own students. Which boys’ dorm did Xiao Yue use during training?”

Gu Wenzhu: “I looked it up—room 508.”

Qi Feng: “Liu Yixuan could be doomed.”

The conversation, between two peers, had an unnatural calm—like discussing the weather. Only Yan Jiyun silently echoed the thought: this was bad.

Liu Yixuan was truly in danger now. They could only hope Qi Feng was in time.

Gu Wenzhu, not needing to sprint, wouldn’t use his restore card unless absolutely necessary.

Now that Qi Feng knew where Teacher Lin and Liu Yixuan had gone, he turned and bolted downstairs. Gu Wenzhu knew he couldn’t match Qi Feng’s speed, so followed at a steady pace—he obviously wasn’t as physically capable.

As Qi Feng’s mad dash took them down two flights, Yan Jiyun could still hear Gu Wenzhu calling after him, “So fast—really is a top-tier player!”

He really was a player being carried by an expert now; even Qi Feng’s running was almost like flying—how delightful.

Teacher Lin had returned ten minutes ago; by walking pace, they couldn’t have gone far. Liu Yixuan clearly had no inkling about Teacher Lin’s true nature.

Qi Feng quickened his pace; before long, he reached the dorm area.

As a homeroom teacher, Teacher Lin could make up any reason to get into the boys’ dorms.

It was class time—dorms were quiet. Even the old doorman was dozing contentedly.

No time to notify Lan Mo; Qi Feng raced up to the fifth floor, found room 508, and kicked the door open.

Empty.

Yan Jiyun, hearing noises above, realized they were on the roof. Teacher Lin’s voice was soft, not agitated, and Liu Yixuan didn’t seem at all suspicious.

Still confused, Liu Yixuan asked, “Teacher Lin, what are we doing up here?”

Teacher Lin: “The principal asked me to check if any boys were sneaking up here to smoke.”

Liu Yixuan laughed, “We’d never smoke—it’s hard on the voice.”

Teacher Lin: “But besides smoking, there’s something else I wanted to discuss alone with you.”

Liu Yixuan: “Whatever it is, it’s during music theory class, so the longer we talk, the less class I have to sit through.”

Teacher Lin: “You really are studious, aren’t you?”

Her voice suddenly dropped a few tones, losing all its warmth, turning sharp.

Liu Yixuan: “I do alright. Teacher, what is it you want?”

Teacher Lin: “Liu Yixuan, check whose phone is over there.”

Liu Yixuan turned his head—and immediately, the sound of his body hitting the roof’s concrete echoed.

Crouched idly in the backpack, Yan Jiyun griped to himself: They’d been so suspicious before, yet now, he completely trusted Teacher Lin—well, he’d just walked into a trap.

Now came the sound of something being dragged. It looked like Liu Yixuan was in serious danger—hopefully, Teacher Lin wasn’t too strong and it would slow her down.

Qi Feng finally reached the sixth floor—the rooftop door was locked. He failed to force it open at first, so tried the same move as before: a solid kick.

It was a wooden door; otherwise, Yan Jiyun would have worried for Qi Feng’s foot.

The door was tough—first kick didn’t break it, second only jarred it, but his third kick finally burst it open.

By then, Teacher Lin had already dragged Liu Yixuan to the balcony edge.

Her strength was far greater than her slight frame would suggest.

Qi Feng snatched up a length of wood and hurled it at Teacher Lin!

She ducked, losing her balance and toppling over—so she failed to push Liu Yixuan off. But Liu Yixuan was now hanging by a thread from the balcony rail. One more lift of his leg and he’d plunge from the sixth floor.

This was the scene Yan Jiyun saw as he popped out of the backpack.

Teacher Lin snatched up the electric prod she’d just placed aside. “I advise you not to meddle, student!”

Qi Feng said, “Teacher Lin, what did you say to Xiao Yue before he killed himself?”

Her expression twisted. “Who do you think you are, daring to mention Xiao Yue in front of me?”

Qi Feng set the backpack holding Yan Jiyun by the door, to keep Caramel out of any scuffle.

Then, he inched closer, deliberately goading her: “The person least qualified to mention his name is you, Teacher Lin. You’re the one who killed Xiao Yue.”

Eyes wide, she shouted, “I did not! He was heaven’s chosen—the child of the gods! Those ordinary students weren’t fit to be his friends—they killed him, not me. I was helping him, putting him back where he belonged, among the gods!”

[Congratulations, player, on completing main quest 5: ‘Uncover the truth of Xiao Yue’s suicide.’]

[Congratulations, player, on triggering main quest 6: The True Culprit.]

Qi Feng swiftly picked up a weapon and attacked the deranged Teacher Lin.

The fight was over in an instant—Yan Jiyun felt she stood no chance against Qi Feng.

He sighed in relief. At last—it was over—

Just as he let out a breath, a pale and beautiful hand suddenly appeared in front of him, quietly lifting the backpack away.

Crouched inside, Yan Jiyun: ???