Chapter 22: The Last Night of Qiao Ling

By afternoon, the official investigation into Qiao Ling's death had begun. Professors, administration officials, and even law enforcement were involved. However, it quickly became clear that someone—someone powerful—was pulling strings behind the scenes.

Royal Crest had always been a place where secrets thrived, where money and influence dictated the narrative more than truth ever did. Despite the undeniable evidence that Qiao Ling's death wasn't a simple tragedy, whispers circulated through the student body that the case was being deliberately redirected.

The school administration released a sterile, carefully worded statement claiming that preliminary findings suggested "an unfortunate case of self-harm," while faculty subtly encouraged students to "focus on their studies" and "let the authorities handle things."

Translation? Forget it happened.

But Yuxi knew better.

She stood near the back of the lecture hall, idly flipping through her notes as the professor droned on, but her ears were attuned to the murmurs floating around her.

"Qiao Ling's death is already being swept under the rug."

"They're making it look like she took her own life out of guilt."

"That's ridiculous. Something is definitely off."

"Maybe she really killed herself out of guilt…"

Yuxi's fingers curled slightly around her pen, the sharp edges of her nails pressing into the skin of her palm.

A cover-up meant only one thing—

Someone had silenced her.

Across campus, Qin Lei had already set things in motion the moment he stepped onto campus that morning. Jiang Cheng and Lu Bei had been working behind the scenes, tapping into their networks, pressing the right people for leads.

But every path they followed led to the same dead end.

No witnesses.

No conclusive evidence.

Qin Lei knew when things were being deliberately erased.

By late afternoon, frustration coiled tightly in his chest. He wasn't the kind of person who chased ghosts, but this—this wasn't just some random crime.

Someone had planned this down to the finest detail.

That was when he spotted her—

Lin Yuxi.

She stood near the university gardens, sunlight filtering through the trees as a soft breeze toyed with the strands of her dark hair. From a distance, she looked serene, almost lost in thought—

The picture of innocence and naivety.

Qin Lei knew better.

She wasn't lost in thought. She was calculating.

Without hesitation, he approached her. No greetings. No pretenses.

"You already know, don't you?"

His voice was low, direct.

Yuxi blinked up at him, tilting her head slightly. A small, practiced gesture, meant to feign confusion.

"Know what?"

Qin Lei's silver eyes darkened slightly.

"Tch." She was really going to make him say it?

"You know that the twins might be the ones who killed Qiao Ling."

His tone was measured, but sharp.

Yuxi's smile didn't falter, but her eyes cooled.

"But they may not be the ones who actually killed her."

She exhaled softly, her fingers grazing the hem of her sleeve.

"She was involved in human trafficking, but we don't know to what extent—or who exactly she was dealing with."

A pause.

Qin Lei studied her, as if weighing his next words.

"The Tang Twins," he said finally. "They were the ones pulling her strings."

Yuxi hummed lightly, her gaze drifting to the trees in the distance.

"They did," she agreed, "but maybe they knew she was involved in such activities, and they wanted to exploit her to get that file—the one we know nothing about."

The unknown file. The one she had been framed for stealing.

The one that had set this entire mess into motion.

Qin Lei's jaw tightened. If that was true, then what the hell was in that file?

"She told us," he said bluntly. "Before she died."

For the first time, Yuxi's fingers stilled.

A fleeting moment, almost imperceptible.

But Qin Lei caught it.

He didn't miss much.

"Qiao Ling confirmed they were behind it," he continued, watching her closely. "But she never got the chance to tell us why."

Yuxi's lips parted slightly, as if in thought, before she sighed, her expression turning contemplative.

"That's the real question, isn't it?"

Her voice was light, but her words were heavy.

"If they were the ones pulling the strings, why eliminate her? She had already done what they asked."

A brief silence stretched between them.

Then, Yuxi's eyes flickered with something sharper.

"And why go through so much effort to make it seem like a suicide?"

That was what truly bothered her.

If Qiao Ling had simply been a loose end, why not make her disappear quietly?

Why stage it?

Carefully. Deliberately.

They wanted it to be noticed.

Qin Lei's fingers twitched slightly at his side. His instincts screamed that Yuxi was already five steps ahead of him in piecing things together.

"So?" he said, crossing his arms. "What's your theory?"

Yuxi exhaled through her nose, the corner of her lips quirking up ever so slightly.

"If I told you, what fun would that be?"

Qin Lei narrowed his eyes.

She was toying with him.

But he wasn't the kind to play along.

"Qiao Ling's death wasn't just a consequence," he said, his voice quieter this time. "It was a statement."

Yuxi's expression finally settled into something more serious.

Yes.

That was the only explanation that made sense.

Someone—or something—had wanted to send a message.

But to whom?

To the administration?

To the Tang Twins?

Elsewhere, hidden from the noise of rumors and speculation, two figures stood in the shadows of an empty corridor. Tang Zhenyu and Tang Zhenqi watched the faint glow of the city skyline through the massive glass windows of Royal Crest. Their identical reflections stared back at them, pale faces illuminated by the distant city lights.

The evening was quiet, yet their minds played through the previous night's events with an eerie sense of amusement.

Zhenqi let out a slow breath, tilting his head. "She was shaking like a leaf."

Zhenyu hummed. "They always do when they realize they should've never touched what wasn't theirs."

A pause.

Then—

A small smirk. "But she was persistent."

Zhenqi scoffed. "She was desperate. And desperation makes people… messy."

Zhenyu chuckled. "Messy people are fun, though."

But they both knew—messy people didn't last long.

**Flashback

The dim glow of a bedside lamp flickered in the dormitory, stretching the shadows unnaturally across the walls. The air was thick, suffocating.

Qiao Ling sat hunched on her bed, hands clenched into fists, her breath coming in uneven gasps.

The stolen documents lay untouched on her desk.

A sharp knock at the door.

She froze.

Then—

The lock clicked.

The door creaked open, slow and deliberate.

Tang Zhenyu. Tang Zhenqi.

Identical faces. Identical smiles.

Qiao Ling scrambled backward.

"I—I did what you asked!" Her voice cracked.

Zhenyu tilted his head, smiling.

"Did you?"

Zhenqi sighed, stepping closer, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Then why do you look so guilty?"

She shook her head frantically.

"I didn't tell anyone—I swear!"

Zhenyu crouched in front of her, gaze unreadable. His dark eyes gleamed with something—amusement? Curiosity? Contempt?

"That's good," he murmured. "Because if you had…"

A pause. A smirk.

"Well."

Qiao Ling flinched as he ran a single finger down her cheek.

The touch was soft. Gentle.

And yet—

Her stomach churned.

Zhenqi stepped forward, watching her shiver.

"But there's one problem," he mused, voice like silk. "You weren't supposed to get caught."

A shiver ran down her spine.

"I—I did everything exactly as you said!" she gasped.

Zhenyu exhaled slowly. "And yet…" he drawled.

Qiao Ling's breath hitched.

They weren't mad because she had failed.

Zhenqi crouched beside her, voice lowering to a whisper.

"You and your family touched someone you shouldn't have."

Qiao Ling trembled. "Please… I—I'll fix it! I'll—"

Zhenyu straightened, tone indifferent. "You won't."

A suffocating silence.

Then—

Pain.

A sharp, searing pain erupted in her side.

She gasped.

The world tilted.

Her vision blurred. Blood.

Her own.

One of them—she didn't even see which—had sliced across her abdomen with a thin, sharp blade.

Not enough to kill.

Not yet.

She collapsed, clutching the wound, breath coming in sharp, shallow pants.

Zhenqi crouched beside her, watching with detached fascination.

"Do you know what's fascinating about fear?"

His fingers dipped into the warm, sticky crimson, pressing against her forehead—painting a small, deliberate mark.

Qiao Ling whimpered.

Zhenyu smiled.

"It makes people so much more obedient."

She tried to speak.

Tried to beg.

But they were already walking away.

As Qiao Ling's consciousness flickered, her body shivering from the blood loss, she heard one last thing—

Zhenyu's voice, light and careless, floating through the air:

"Make sure they find her in the morning. Alive."

Then—

Darkness.

**ends

Tang Zhenyu traced the railing's edge, eyes fixed on the empty courtyard below.

Zhenqi sighed. "She was supposed to tell us what we needed to know."

Zhenyu hummed. "Disappointing, really."

Zhenqi's lips twitched. "She was scared."

Zhenyu let out a soft chuckle. "They always are."

A pause.

Then, Zhenyu's smile faded.

Zhenqi nodded. "Her family trafficked people. But they got too greedy."

A short silence.

Then, Zhenyu spoke, voice light but cold.

"She and her family tried to traffic the child they shouldn't have touched."

Zhenqi exhaled. "We already know most of the people involved. It's time to remove them."

Zhenyu smiled again.

But it didn't reach his eyes.

Zhenqi rolled his shoulders. "And what about Lin Yuxi?"

A soft chuckle.

Then—

Zhenyu's dark eyes gleamed.

"What should we do with Lin Yuxi?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I quite like her."