The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Jian Jing laughed.

She found it extremely amusing: "I've already told you the motive."

Wu Lie suddenly realized: "Daniel wanted you to become a suspect?"

"Correct," Jian Jing readily admitted. "Before the dinner party, 'I' snuck into Daniel's room and faintly heard him talking to a woman, but it wasn't clear."

This was a line from the character script, with a note. If a careless guest read it, they might only associate it with his wife or daughter.

But Jian Jing remembered it at the time.

"I decided to find an opportunity to check Daniel's room," Jian Jing said. "'I' am a habitual thief, with a special master key, and coincidentally, I know a little about that too. There, I discovered Daniel's secret room. After seeing the altar, videotapes, and other things, I knew Daniel wanted to reincarnate into someone else."

"If Daniel hadn't called me, I would have had no reason to kill him. What difference does it make to me whether my fiancé is a son or a father? But he asked me to go over at 12:30, and I immediately understood that he wanted to get rid of me."

She smiled, calmly analyzing the "murder" motive, feeling strangely satisfied.

"Daniel never agreed to the marriage in the first place, and now he wanted to harm me. Naturally, I couldn't just sit and wait for death. The best way was to turn the tables on him and kill him. After his death, the person obstructing my marriage would be gone, and I might even benefit from it."

Everyone understood and felt somewhat regretful.

Hiroto Ishikawa said, "Miss Jian, I suspected you."

Jian Jing wasn't kind to him, gently twisting the knife: "Then why weren't you more confident?"

Hiroto Ishikawa said, "What I mean is, your plan wasn't perfect."

"There might be lucky individuals in the world who escape the law's net, like myself," Jian Jing suddenly turned serious, "but there's no such thing as a perfect crime."

Wataru Kojima hadn't realized her targeting yet and agreed: "Yes, once something is done, traces are left behind. Miss Jian's success wasn't due to a lack of loopholes, but because you exploited the blind spots in those loopholes."

Jian Jing's expression softened, and she asked gently, "What have you deduced?"

"The phone call," Wataru Kojima said. "You used a number that successfully cleared your suspicion."

Jian Jing assumed a listening posture.

Wataru Kojima said, "The call to the restaurant seemed like the killer was trying to hide something. The homophone for 56 was also very clever, focusing attention on whether it was a frame-up. If the brother-in-law had a grudge against someone, it would be unclear, but its real purpose was to contrast with your honesty."

He continued, "You proactively, even first, mentioned the call Daniel made to you, and you told the complete truth. This created a strong contrast with the killer's behavior, completely separating your image from that of the killer."

Jian Jing nodded: "Correct."

A mysterious phone call would definitely attract everyone's attention. People would think about who the last call was made to, when, for what purpose, and if it was a code, whether it was Daniel's last words or the killer's attempt to frame someone.

But in reality, the key wasn't the content, but the action itself.

"But the headless corpse... was that your precaution?" he asked. "Were you afraid someone might discover the body later, so you created a red herring to make it impossible to determine the time of death?"

Jian Jing shook her head: "Everyone would eventually discover the secret of midnight. Misleading about the time of death was pointless."

Wataru Kojima: "Then was it to cover up clues?"

She smiled without answering.

Zhang Xue'er couldn't help but ask, "How did Daniel actually die?"

Jian Jing: "Strangled with a hand towel, the kind used in the restaurant." Of course, she was careful and meticulous in her actions. How could she possibly use something with special significance as a murder weapon?

It had to be an ordinary item that anyone could get their hands on.

"What about the witch?" Valeriya chimed in.

Jian Jing: "The reincarnation ritual was performed at midnight, but once the altar was prepared, whether successful or not, the witch had already offered her life and was destined to die. I didn't kill her."

Wataru Kojima hesitated for a moment: "If that's the case, was the headless corpse also a diversion?"

"You're right, the headless corpse itself had no meaning. It was a trick I prepared for myself."

She finally revealed the mystery: "To play the detective, one must act like a detective. Being too silent would arouse suspicion, while guiding the direction would be easily noticed. I had to be factual and investigate properly. But saying too much would expose myself, and saying too little wouldn't match my abilities. So, I had to prepare a few puzzles for myself.

"The headless corpse is a classic trope in detective stories. I became interested in it and had been pondering its mysteries. Who would suspect me?"

As she spoke, she criticized herself: Alas, she could only blame herself for getting too carried away during the haunted house recording, making everyone aware of her abilities, forcing her to arrange this extra step.

Fortunately, she always stuck to the facts, neither targeting anyone nor being entirely defensive, making her seem more like a detective than others.

"Besides, this was also the trump card to deal with Mr. Kojima," she joked. "You're so clever, if there wasn't a headless corpse to attract your attention, who knows if you might have started digging into my secrets."

"Uh," Wataru Kojima suddenly became flustered and said awkwardly, "You're giving me too much credit, Miss Jian. I didn't discover your trap at all."

Jian Jing was very friendly towards him: "A detective always knows what another detective is thinking."

Wataru Kojima regained his composure a bit and said, "You truly are a detective." He raised his head and looked directly into her eyes. "You chose yourself."

"Maybe I just wanted to win," she smiled. "I won as the killer, and I want to win as the detective too."

"No," Wataru Kojima denied this explanation. "A perfect crime is one that leaves no traces until the very end, but you made yourself a suspect, leaving an indelible stain. This isn't what a criminal wants, but it's the justice that a detective relentlessly pursues."

"Justice..." Jian Jing savored the word, but then said, "No, it's not justice."

She raised her eyes, a sense of déjà vu flashing through her mind.

Flowing water, under the begonia flowers, a dark shadow wandering in the hot spring inn enveloped the houses. Thunder and lightning, pouring rain, omnipresent phantoms crawling on the floor, creeping in through door cracks and window gaps, like horrifying ghost stories, slowly devouring the heart.

Darkness dragged people into hell, the souls of those brutally murdered wailing in despair.

The world turned dark.

The body sank uncontrollably, falling, struggling desperately, resisting, yet the limbs had no strength, as if wandering like a lost soul.

Will I be discovered?

Did I really kill someone?

Is this... right?

What does a human life really count for?

At this moment, she seemed to communicate with the deceased.

"I believe that the fate of every criminal is predetermined," Jian Jing said. "Some are judged by the law, some by conscience, some escape the net of justice and blind themselves to the reproach of conscience, thinking they're clever, not knowing that sooner or later, they'll die by their own hand."

She had encountered many criminals. Most were of the first type, Xie Wei was the second, and Wang Shi was the third.

But they all met the same end.

She said, "The reason I chose myself is not out of a detective's pursuit of justice. On the contrary, I did it entirely as a criminal."

Wataru Kojima understood: "Is this your perfect crime?"

"Yes, a criminal caught by a detective is too pathetic," Jian Jing smiled, moving past the previous heaviness. "No one can judge me, I want to judge myself."

She walked to the front of the stage with her hands behind her back and said to Jiang BaiYan, who was playing dead: "Get down, this position is mine now."

Jiang BaiYan, fully in character, said emotionally: "I'm already dead, you can't let my sacrifice be in vain. You should live a good new life, with cats and dogs, surrounded by children and grandchildren."

Jian Jing: "..."

"I'll give you three minutes to perform 'vomiting out your soul'," she said with her hands on her hips. "Then get down."

The restraining straps had long been untied. Jiang BaiYan sheepishly said, "No, no, I'll get down right away." He slunk away, hunched over.

Back in his seat, he complained to Wu Lie: "My life is so hard."

――

On the live streaming platform, in the bullet screen comments:

[Lol, Little White suddenly made me laugh]

[It was so heavy just now, then turned silly in a second]

[You're getting addicted to sitting there, aren't you?]

[Even the electric chair can be addictive, I'm impressed you can sit there without support]

[Honey, wait, that's an electric chair, not a throne!]

[When a newbie sits in the electric chair, they cry; when my wife sits in it, it's like an enthronement]

[This is my royal throne!]

[The new empress ascends—]

[Majestic—Powerful—]

[I'm dying of laughter]

[It's surprisingly harmonious??]

Internet users went wild, but the filming scene remained solemn.

Jian Jing shooed away Jiang BaiYan and sat down on the cold electric chair. Her powers of observation were stronger, and the physical object gave her more intense sensory stimulation.

For a moment, her nose seemed to truly smell the scent of hell.

Cold, dark, foul, terrifying.

She closed her eyes, carefully feeling the fear of this moment.

A moment later, Jian Jing smiled and stretched out her hand: "Give it to me."

Instructions came through the earpiece, and two burly men in black (who may have previously been on comedy shows) knelt on one knee in perfect sync, offering up the guns in their hands.

Jian Jing couldn't help but chuckle, taking the gun and spinning it around her finger in a classic Western cowboy move.

Then, she pulled the trigger.

Bang.

Red mist swirled, crimson flowers bloomed.

She raised the corner of her lips in the vivid blood color, smiling slightly: "Game over."

On the live streaming platform, in the bullet screen area:

[Crown the princess—]

[World famous painting, Queen's Coronation.JPG]

[False execution, real coronation]

[I swear, I offer my loyalty to Your Majesty, never to betray]

[I swear, I will forever serve my master, expanding territories]

[I swear, the direction you point is where my sword will aim]

[So cool, so cool, so cool!!]

[Awesome, awesome, awesome!!!]

[Ah Wei is dead]

[Goddess!! (voice cracking)]

[Converted fan, converted fan, I'm now Teacher Jian's die-hard fan]

[The little princess's knight squad has gained another member]

[From today on, she's Her Majesty the Queen]

On foreign websites, in the comment section:

[She's just amazing]

[Incredible girl]

[Calm down. She's a criminal]

[She won]

[I'm proud of her]

[pretty cool]

[She can't be that good. Game shady!!]

[She was the chosen winner]

[Protest! She must have cheated!]

[It's not a fair game]

[You're just jealous.]

[A win is a win]

[This is not a just ending]

[I will write to protest]

[Vile oriental]

[Westerners are bandits]

[Racial discrimination]

The war of words became increasingly fierce, with increasingly sensitive vocabulary being used, and the comment section was closed.

Warm applause erupted at the scene, and at this point, the live broadcast was about to end.

Daniel said his lines, something about "a very exciting game," "an unforgettable twist," "everyone is emotionally moved," "tomorrow night is the banquet," and so on.

Everyone applauded politely, but probably didn't listen much.

At 10:15, the live broadcast finally ended.

Meeting adjourned.

Jian Jing let out a long sigh: "Shall we have a late-night snack?"

"Yes!"

Except for models like Zhang Xue'er, everyone was hungry.

The production team prepared late-night snacks for everyone and informed them: "We still need to record individual interviews. After you finish eating, find a place to start on your own."

Everyone: "..."

Nobody likes overtime work.

But for now, it's better to eat.

Jiang BaiYan, holding a bowl of precious chicken soup with small wontons, squeezed next to Jian Jing and asked with a smile: "Jing Jing, wasn't I great?"

Jian Jing, gnawing on a meat skewer: "Hm? Mm." She nodded and asked vaguely, "When did you figure it out?"

Jiang BaiYan taking the blame for her wasn't something they had planned together; it was entirely his own improvisation. They had barely spoken to each other these past few days.

And if he hadn't jumped out to mislead everyone, it wouldn't have been so easy for Jian Jing to escape with zero votes.

This coordination was truly brilliant, just a bit puzzling.

Could he have deduced her crime?