The two of them dumped Wang Bide at the Keyu Theater and rode their bicycles out.

They returned to the He residence, and the whole day passed without any news from Wang Bide. After finishing dinner, just as they were about to return to their room, a telephone call came.

A servant walked up to He Yunqin: “Second Young Master, it’s Inspector Wang on the phone.”

He Yunqin had been smiling and listening to Hongdou chat with his mother and younger sister. Seeing that Wang Bide finally had news, he hurriedly pulled Hongdou up from the sofa.

Everyone saw him bring Hongdou along even to answer the phone, and they were all stunned for a moment. Even the consistently steady He Ningzheng couldn’t help laughing: “You’re bringing your little sister-in-law along even just to answer a phone call. Sister-in-law just finished eating—you should let her sit properly and have a cup of tea, rest a while, chat with Mother a bit. No need to keep dragging her around for no reason.”

He Yunqin glanced at Hongdou and said to his eldest brother with a smile: “She’ll definitely want to hear this call. Even if I left her in the parlor, she wouldn’t sit still anyway.”

Mrs. He shook her head with a smile: “Just let him be. As long as Hongdou doesn’t mind, let him have his fun.”

Although Hongdou was lively by nature, having just married into the He family, she still felt somewhat restrained in every matter. Hearing this, it wasn’t her place to respond to her mother-in-law and eldest brother-in-law’s words, so she kept a serene smile on her face, while her fingers secretly scratched at He Yunqin’s palm.

He Yunqin, reminded of something, inexplicably blushed, and scratched back at her palm as well. In front of everyone, he acted as if nothing was happening and pulled Hongdou away.

Wang Bide’s investigation wasn’t going very smoothly: “Bai Fengfei returned to her residence on Qixia Road, but she’s only claiming a headache and refuses to see me. I’m thinking whether we should use some method to scare her a little, otherwise it’ll be next to impossible to pry any words out of her mouth.”

He Yunqin held the earpiece in one hand and the mouthpiece in the other, while Hongdou stood on tiptoe trying to listen in. But this man was not only tall, his back was also perfectly straight, and after stretching for a while, she could barely make out the rustling sound from the earpiece, unable to hear what Wang Bide was saying at all.

In her impatience, she simply grabbed He Yunqin’s arm and pulled it straight downward, eyes widening slightly as she glared at him in mock anger.

He Yunqin felt the force on his arm, glanced down, and realized what she was anxious about. Seeing that the study door was closed, and figuring no servant would dare barge in, he simply said to Wang Bide: “Wait a moment.”

So saying, he pulled out the chair beside the desk, sat down casually, and pulled Hongdou onto his lap.

Hongdou’s face instantly flushed red, and she squirmed. He Yunqin, looking utterly composed, pointed at the earpiece. Hongdou glanced at him and had no choice but to lean in to hear what Wang Bide had to say.

“As for the night Yang Yutian was murdered, there were many performances scheduled that night, and the audience changed several times over the course of the evening. Everyone in the troupe was either busy performing on stage or busy attending to guests—it was already difficult enough to avoid mistakes, so who had the spare attention to notice what was happening backstage? I made rounds this afternoon, and no one noticed which guest brought in anything particularly large.”

He Yunqin said: “What if the murderer is actually someone from inside the Keyu Theater itself? There’d be no need to pose as a patron at all—he could go to the back courtyard anytime.”

Wang Bide said: “That’s exactly why everyone can lie—evidence and physical traces are what’s reliable.”

He paused, then said with some embarrassment: “This afternoon I went back to Xu Yishan’s house to look again, and indeed found similar dents behind the bedpost.”

He Yunqin gave a faint scoffing laugh.

Without waiting for him to speak, Wang Bide hurried on: “Fine, no need for your nagging, I’ll quit drinking myself. But there’s one thing worth noting—at Yang Yutian’s crime scene, the murderer left traces of the rope, but at Xu Yishan’s house everything had already been cleaned up, leaving only dents that couldn’t be wiped away.”

“That shows the murderer is getting more careful. Since there are dents, did you measure the distances of these spots on the roof beam? Report the measurements to me.”

Wang Bide then read out a set of numbers.

Hongdou chimed in from the side: “What about cigarette butts? You didn’t mention cigarette butts in Yang Yutian’s room, Inspector Wang, but you specifically mentioned Changle Gate cigarette butts in Xu Yishan’s room.”

Wang Bide said: “Because the Xu residence is a private home, while the Keyu Theater is packed with all sorts of people. By the time I got to the scene, the troupe members, curious patrons who rushed in after hearing the news, and the police had all already trampled through several times over. Yang Yutian’s room was a complete mess, cigarette butts everywhere—how could I have noticed which butt shouldn’t have been there?”

He Yunqin exchanged a glance with Hongdou: “What about Xu Yishan’s social connections? Did you ask Mrs. Xu whether Xu Yishan knew Yang Yutian in the past?”

“Mrs. Xu said Xu Yishan often went to the Keyu Theater to watch operas, so it wouldn’t be strange for him to know the performers there, but whether Xu Yishan knew Yang Yutian in the past, she’s not clear on either. She only said that when Xu Yishan was a student his family was poor, and before he married he moved around with his widowed mother, so he knew all sorts of people from every walk of life.”

Since they were after all acquainted, He Yunqin had heard a bit about Xu Yishan’s family background before. He rubbed his chin: “Xu Yishan indeed only rose to prominence recently. His father died early, and his family was destitute, but he was remarkably intelligent—he tested into the original Nanyang Public School with the top score at the time. Mrs. Xu is the daughter of Lulu Department Store, and she met Xu Yishan at university. Because Xu Yishan was both good-looking and excelled in his studies, Mrs. Xu took a liking to him, and later took the initiative to persuade her family to agree to their marriage.”

After marrying, Xu Yishan gradually began making connections among Shanghai’s elite through the publishing house and his wife’s family connections—that was also how he became acquainted with the He family.

Wang Bide said: “So even though Xu Yishan is quite glamorous now, he really did struggle for many years before that. As for Yang Yutian, he did indeed make a name for himself, but he’s still just an opera performer after all. In my view, the point of intersection in their social connections should be pushed further back—ideally to before either of them rose to prominence. Xu Yishan often went to the Keyu Theater, and his wife always assumed he was going for Bai Fengfei. Now it seems—could this actually be a misunderstanding? Could it be that he already knew Bai Fengfei and Yang Yutian from before?”

“And now two of the three are dead,” He Yunqin raised his eyebrows. “Inspector Wang, I did warn you not to be so stingy. Take this case, for example—you really should have assigned more people to watch Bai Fengfei closely. She’s not just a key witness, she could also be the next victim.”

Wang Bide laughed dryly: “Where am I supposed to find assistants right now? There’s no way I can conjure up manpower tonight no matter what, which is why I had no choice but to call you.”

He Yunqin seemed to have already anticipated Wang Bide would say this. He gave a cold laugh, paused for a moment, then said: “Then you just wait.”

After hanging up the phone, he thought for a moment, then looked up and said gently to Hongdou: “Wait outside for me, I need to make a call.”

Hongdou paused. His tone was gentle, but his expression was extremely serious, clearly indicating there was no room for negotiation on this matter. She pouted slightly, stood up, and walked out.

Pulling the door shut behind her, she held her breath and listened intently. Before long, she vaguely heard He Yunqin say a few sentences, but since he was speaking German, and speaking quickly at that, she couldn’t understand a single word.

This made her even more displeased. He Yunqin was unusually sharp when it came to reading people’s minds—could it be he was certain she’d eavesdrop? Well, she wouldn’t listen at all. She slowly wandered off.

Soon the door opened, and He Yunqin came out. He saw Hongdou standing by the large glass window at the end of the corridor, and even though she clearly heard the sound of the door opening, she didn’t turn around.

He walked unhurriedly to stand behind her, and like her, gazed out the window, saying: “Inspector Wang is overwhelmed with work, so I’m finding him a few assistants. Since those friends of mine are rather secretive, it’s not convenient to casually reveal their identities.”

Hongdou turned around and looked up at him.

He lowered his eyes and smiled as their gazes met: “Let’s go back to our room.”

Hongdou, blushing, let him lead her by the hand. The two returned to their room. Hongdou went to the washroom to bathe, and when she came out, she saw He Yunqin sitting at the desk in the outer room, writing something.

She walked over and looked down—he was drawing a diagram. Axles, screws, levers, ropes, and other components already had a rough model taking shape.

She simply pulled over a chair and sat across from him, resting her chin on her hand and asking: “Are you drawing the murderer’s killing tool?”

He Yunqin smiled slightly. Hongdou grasped things the instant they were mentioned, always able to keep up with his line of thinking. He nodded, eyes still on the paper, and said: “Judging from the traces left at both crime scenes, the murderer indeed used some kind of tool to hoist the victims up to the roof beam. I’ve roughly reconstructed it—the principle of this tool is simple, not difficult to make at all. As long as the victim is subdued beforehand and the rope is properly secured, the murderer doesn’t need to exert much strength at all—he can slowly turn the pulley to hoist the victim up to the beam bit by bit. The difficulty lies in a few points: First, assuming the murderer isn’t someone from inside the Keyu Theater, how did he manage to make this tool small and inconspicuous? Not only did he carry this tool in plain sight to watch the opera, he also knocked on both Xu Yishan’s and Yang Yutian’s doors, killed them, and then calmly carried the tool away. If it were something bulky or oddly shaped, it should have aroused the victim’s suspicion.”

Hongdou nodded: “Both Yang Yutian and Xu Yishan were tall, sturdy men. If they’d become wary, the murderer would never have found a chance to strike. And if it wasn’t someone from inside the theater, it would be strange for the murderer to bring something else to the theater—which is why Inspector Wang guessed it might be something like a birdcage.”

“Second, the victims wouldn’t obediently let themselves be hoisted up to the beam, so the murderer must have used some other method to subdue them beforehand. I’m currently inclined to think the murderer mixed something into their drinks, first causing the victim to lose consciousness, then stuffing something into their mouth to prevent them from crying out—otherwise this method couldn’t have been carried out smoothly. So based on the clues so far, it’s quite likely the victims knew the murderer, and the victims never imagined the murderer would kill them.”

Hongdou recalled the scene at the Keyu Theater that afternoon: “And Bai Fengfei has been behaving so strangely since the case broke—maybe she knew all three of them, and she’s the key to the key.”

He Yunqin set down his pen: “I’m waiting on the autopsy reports for these two.”

Hongdou was about to respond when suddenly she heard a fine, dense pattering sound from the terrace in the inner room—it seemed rain had come. The rustling autumn wind carried a sudden shower that struck the windows, blowing up the thin white gauze curtains hanging low on both sides.

A current of cool, rain-scented air drifted into the room.

Hongdou got up and went to the inner room to close the French windows.

She turned back to find someone knocking at the door outside—it was a servant bringing tea. He Yunqin must have given instructions beforehand, as the servant carried it straight to He Yunqin’s desk, set down the teacups, and quietly left.

One cup was the Biluochun tea He Yunqin usually drank himself; the other was osmanthus tea mixed with honey.

Hongdou picked up her cup and took a sip—warm and sweet, wonderfully so.

Both of them were unusually quiet, each absorbed in their own task.

Only the scratching of the fountain pen could be heard. He Yunqin would think, then write, still intermittently filling in the details of the tool, while Hongdou silently flipped through her German dictionary.

Outside, the rain pattered softly and the wind rustled; inside the room, a still, clear, warm light flowed quietly.

Hongdou read for a while, then suddenly recalled a fitting line: In the rain, mountain fruits fall; under the lamp, grass insects sing.

Seeing that the tool had been nearly fully reconstructed, she looked at him under the lamplight and said with a slight pout of complaint: “Aren’t you going to sleep?”