“It’s not a matter of… believing or not believing right now. The fact is that you do have… significant… suspicion hanging over you.” Kai De, at Li Xiaoman’s side, managed to stammer out this sentence haltingly.
Pang Bo’s eyes immediately widened. “Foreign blondie — what do you mean by that? What grounds do you have for thinking it was Ye Fan who did the killing?”
“No — I am not making a subjective… judgment. I am stating… objective facts. I did not say he is the… killer. I am merely stating a fact: his level of suspicion… is very high.” Kai De, with his one-track and straightforward manner, analyzed carefully: “What Liu Yunzhi said… has merit. Ye Fan had a conflict with the deceased — he had a motive for murder. And he was sitting… very close to him, giving him the opportunity… to act.”
His Chinese was not particularly smooth, but everyone understood what he meant — the same as many a single-minded Westerner: arguing the facts.
“Foreign blondie, you really have no feel for social nuance. The whole thing is obvious, and here you are running it through like you’re proving a math theorem — one-track mind!”
“What does… blondie mean?” Kai De was thoroughly baffled. “I’ve heard you say it… several times now. What does it… mean?”
“You are a blondie — one-track mind — I can’t be bothered explaining it to you.” Pang Bo was out of patience and stopped engaging with him. He turned to look at Li Xiaoman. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You should know Ye Fan pretty well, shouldn’t you?”
Li Xiaoman stood graceful and poised, and in the faint glow of the phone screen she was like a fresh and radiant lotus in bloom, releasing a faint fragrance in the darkness. Her expression was calm and natural as she gently opened her mouth: “In my heart, I don’t believe Ye Fan is the killer — but the fact remains that he does carry suspicion right now…”
“Li Xiaoman!” Pang Bo was very angry, biting down hard on her name and cutting her off. “That’s truly heartless of you. I never in all my life imagined you would say such a thing. Anyone else can disbelieve him — but not you. Other people don’t know Ye Fan — but you don’t? Even though the two of you have broken up, you can’t be this heartless, can you? Are you trying to pour salt into Ye Fan’s wound?”
“I have no other meaning behind what I said. I’m only stating facts.” Li Xiaoman remained perfectly calm, her features lovely, her skin pale as jade. She furrowed her brow slightly and said: “I am not targeting anyone. I only want to say that since the killer dared to kill once, there is nothing else they would not dare to do — which means all of us are in danger right now. I want to be objective rather than driven by emotion. The fact is that Ye Fan’s suspicion is considerable — but so, to varying degrees, is that of everyone else present.”
Pang Bo said with a cold laugh: “At the end of the day, you’re saying Ye Fan is the most suspicious — you don’t believe him. There’s no need to say so much!” He turned away sharply. “I truly misjudged you. In the past, once you had made up your mind about something, no friend could talk you out of it. Now I understand — your nature isn’t decisiveness and resolve. It’s heartlessness.”
Just then, a voice that sounded somewhat nervous, almost timid, spoke up softly: “I… I believe Ye Fan. I believe he… is not the killer.” It was that female classmate whose life had not been going well — slight in build, very frail, she stepped forward with her head bowed, looking tense and uneasy.
Once a simply happy and pure-hearted girl, the difficult years of life had made her lose all confidence in herself. The radiant brightness in her was gone; even speaking in front of people was no longer smooth for her — she came across as awkward and ill at ease.
This was also the primary reason why Ye Fan had felt such deep sympathy for her during the class reunion.
Pang Bo, like Ye Fan, felt sympathy for this timid young woman. In school she hadn’t been like this at all — she had often joked around with Ye Fan and him together, her laughter like pearls scattering on a plate. The three of them had been very close, and being around her had always made people feel happy.
“Liu Yiyi — thank you!” Ye Fan smiled and gave her a nod.
“There’s no need to thank me — I believe you wouldn’t kill anyone…” Liu Yiyi’s voice was soft and faint, and the words drew real pity. She stood there, shifting awkwardly.
“If not him, then who?” Li Changqing said resentfully. “Other than Ye Fan, who else has a motive? He’s taking revenge.”
The female classmate standing next to Liu Yunzhi spoke up once more: “Ye Fan — how could you be so cruel-hearted? That was a classmate who had known you for four years!”
“I will say it once more: I did not kill anyone.” Ye Fan faced the accusations with complete calm and composure, unruffled. “You are free to suspect me — but until the matter has been properly investigated, please do not fling mud at me before anything has been determined.”
“The facts are right there in front of you. You were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder with the deceased — the shortest distance to him. No one else could have circled around you to kill him without being noticed. And only you had the motive to act against him!”
Pang Bo’s temper was combustible, and being treated unfairly was more than he could stand. He said furiously: “Can you at least be reasonable? Before there’s any conclusion, don’t go dumping a bucket of filth on someone’s head first. I genuinely don’t understand — at graduation, you said it so nicely: you and Liu Yunzhi were going your separate ways. What you meant, less charitably, was that Liu Yunzhi didn’t give you a second glance and dumped you flat, which you’ve been bitterly resentful about ever since. So how is it that now you can’t wait to plaster yourself to his side and beat the drums for him?”
“You… you are making a vicious personal attack!” The female classmate went white with fury, her body trembling as she pointed a finger at Pang Bo.
“An attack? Right — attack! That’s what I’m doing.” Pang Bo was not the kind of person who took things lying down, and his tongue could be quite cutting when he wanted. “I call it fighting poison with poison — talk to a person like a person, talk to a ghost like a ghost, and when you’re looking at a toad, a few spit-drops is all it takes to drown it!”
“You…” The female classmate’s body shook, trembling too much to speak.
Liu Yunzhi’s expression darkened. “Enough, Pang Bo — are you even a man? Is any of this doing any good?” In his hand, the vajra treasure pestle was threaded through with several thin wisps of rosy light — particularly conspicuous in the darkness — reminding everyone that it held absolute power of deterrence. If conflict broke out, no one here would be able to oppose it.
Pang Bo also let his expression drop. “Because the killer isn’t Ye Fan, and you’re all deliberately twisting the truth, I’m responding in kind.”
Ye Fan’s gaze passed over Li Xiaoman, then swept toward the others. Three classmates stepped forward and said: “We believe Ye Fan didn’t kill anyone.”
Together with Liu Yiyi, Zhang Ziling, and Pang Bo, six people had now taken Ye Fan’s side — seven including himself. Sixteen people had survived in total. Those who believed Ye Fan had nearly reached half.
Lin Jia was exceptionally beautiful, with an alluring figure. Her naturally almond-shaped eyes gave her an effortlessly seductive quality. Even in the atmosphere of this moment, as she spoke in measured tones, she still carried a certain enchanting and captivating air.
“I also think it’s impossible that it was Ye Fan. We all know his character — he’s not the kind of person who’s ruthless like that, someone who never quibbles over petty grudges with others…”
Li Changqing was displeased and cut her off: “If not him, then who? Would any of us here kill a person? Would any of us have that kind of mind?”
Pang Bo was infuriated on the spot, his eyes snapping wide: “Li Changqing — can you get any more shameless? Can you scrape up any more reasons to fling mud? I’d very much like to press this bronze plaque right into your face. How can you say something so presumptuous?”
“I can’t be bothered dealing with you!” Li Changqing turned away in fury. Even now his face was still bruised and swollen — Pang Bo had hit him hard back on the Five-Colored Altar.
“I also believe Ye Fan. He is not that kind of person — he would never do something so cruel and vicious.” At this point Wang Ziwen stepped forward, choosing to believe Ye Fan.
Zhou Yi had been a bystander from beginning to end, but now he made his choice as well. He glanced at the faintly glowing vajra treasure pestle in Liu Yunzhi’s hand, then at Ye Fan, who stood composed and unruffled. “We cannot lightly conclude who the killer is. I believe Ye Fan would not harm a classmate.”
At this moment, the overwhelming majority had taken Ye Fan’s side. He knew that some of them were sincere — while others had been reading the room, concluding from the fact that he remained so calm in the face of Liu Yunzhi’s vajra pestle that he must have some kind of “trump card,” and had made their choice in an almost opportunistic way.
“If it’s not Ye Fan, then who? Does that mean the killer is someone else among us?” Liu Yunzhi’s face remained cold as he stared at Ye Fan, then shifted his gaze to Pang Bo.
“Drop the posturing. Don’t think that just because you’re holding a glowing stick, everyone here is afraid of you.” Pang Bo was entirely unfazed, as rough-and-ready as ever. “I’ll take you apart with this unlit bronze plaque just the same!”
Liu Yunzhi’s expression immediately turned dark as he gripped the vajra treasure pestle hard and advanced three steps!
Ye Fan pulled back Pang Bo before he could charge forward, then faced everyone present — his manner earnest and gravely serious. “I can tell everyone here: the killer is not any one of us.”