Chapter 119: The Stage Murder

Ever since Wang Dali met Teacher Li, his infatuation kicked into overdrive. He tossed aside the gloom of being dumped by Xia Mengmeng and the next day came back from the library loaded with psychology books.

I said, "Come on, if you want to study psychology, just study it. But if you're only after the cafeteria girls, maybe you should enroll in cooking classes instead."

Wang Dali replied, "You can't say it like that. How else do you connect with someone if you don't share common interests? You wouldn't be close to Sister Xiao Tao if it weren't for solving cases together, right?"

Well, Xiao Tao and I aren't exactly close either, but I didn't say that. Instead, I told him, "There's no way you and Teacher Li will happen. Just give up!"

"No!" Wang Dali clenched his fist and stared at the ceiling. "Without dreams, what's the difference between a person and a salted fish?"

He devoured Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams in a barely-understood rush, then started acting crazy in the dorm. One morning, he jumped on our bed like a monkey and grinned mischievously: "Had any dreams? Let me interpret one for you."

I said, "I dreamed I was Superman!"

"Superman? Wearing a red cape? Red symbolizes desire. That's basically a wet dream!" Wang Dali said seriously.

I almost spat blood. "I also dreamed the dorm supervisor was doing a room inspection."

...

...

"That auntie symbolizes your mother. Looks like you have an Oedipus complex!" Wang Dali exclaimed like he'd discovered a new world.

"Get lost!" I kicked him off the bed.

He was relentless, pestering the other two roommates too, interpreting every dream as some kind of sexual fantasy. Everyone was fed up and started calling him a fake psychic.

But Wang Dali wasn't just bothering us — he even emailed Teacher Li with questions, typing with a sly grin on his face. Honestly, that's the one thing I admire about him: no matter how intimidating the goddess, he charges ahead fearlessly.

Before, we'd both drag our feet to club activities, barely making it on time. Now Wang Dali is the most eager one, ready and dressed half an hour early, pulling me along. I joked, "Why don't you just move into the club room?"

He just wanted to see the beautiful teacher more often, but me showing up early got awkward. After that day, the club members looked up to me, always pestering me to "do some detective work" for them.

I regretted showing off like that — the price was too high. I vowed never to flaunt anything in public again.

By late October, the college drama festival rolled around. Teacher Li came personally to encourage us, saying, "Winning doesn't matter. Just perform well."

Soon it was our club's turn. The announcer's voice echoed through the backstage room: "Next up, Romeo and Juliet!" Applause thundered from the audience. Ye Shiwen was drinking water and almost choked.

Teacher Li gestured to calm nerves: "Don't be nervous. Just treat it like a rehearsal."

"Everyone, let's go!" Zhang Yan commanded confidently. The actors left, leaving only me, Wang Dali, and Teacher Li in the green room.

Being a gentleman, I excused myself to the restroom, letting Wang Dali spend some alone time with her. After returning, I paced the hallway.

Mid-performance, I heard the sharp click of high heels behind me. Turning, I saw Teacher Li.

"Why are you out here alone?" she asked.

"Teacher Li? Is something wrong?" I felt a bit nervous around her, especially since she always dressed so provocatively.

"I forgot Romeo's prop knife. Could you bring it to me? It's hard to climb stairs in heels," she smiled.

She handed me a sheathed knife. It looked familiar — Ye Shiwen's blunt stage prop knife.

When I took it, her fingers brushed my hand deliberately. My face flushed. She smiled and said, "By the way, you still don't know how I lost my eye, do you?"

"Uh... I'll take this knife over first," I stammered.

She slowly lifted the bangs covering her right eye, revealing a vivid green iris. It sparkled like a gem — unlike any normal eye.

As I stared, everything else faded away. The whole world shrank to that mysterious eye and her gentle voice.

"Song Yang, you're feeling light, as if floating in water..."

My mind went blank, as if drifting in warm sea waves, gazing up at a huge eye in the blue sky.

Then the hallucination snapped away as a group of students passed, laughing loudly. I eyed Teacher Li warily.

"What did you just do to me?" I asked.

She looked puzzled. "Nothing! Just go deliver the prop."

Turning away, I felt uneasy. Had she just hypnotized me?

Backstage, Ye Shiwen was nervously waiting. I handed him the knife and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I got your back."

"Let's eat together later," he said, then headed onstage.

The more I thought about what happened, the stranger it felt.

Suddenly, a scream burst from outside, mixed with terrified shouts. A sharp metallic smell filled the air.

I rushed onstage and saw Ye Shiwen straddling Zhang Yan, clutching a blood-soaked knife. Zhang Yan was riddled with stab wounds, eyes rolled back, already dead. Blood pooled everywhere.

The audience panicked, screaming and scattering.

This scene was supposed to be Romeo mourning Juliet's death, rushing to die with her. But Ye Shiwen had gone berserk, stabbing Zhang Yan repeatedly — with a knife that was supposed to be blunt!

Minutes earlier, Zhang Yan was talking to me. Now she was a bloody corpse. My mind reeled, struggling to believe it.

"Ah!"

Ye Shiwen dropped the knife, clutching his head, screaming, "What have I done? What have I done?"

He turned and cried, "Song Yang, this isn't real. How could I have killed her?"

I said, "Calm down. Wait for the police."

"What? You called the cops? No! I don't want to go to jail!"

He jumped off stage, twisted his ankle from the shock. I followed, tackled him down, and told the stunned security guards, "Call the police! There's been a murder here!" Then I gave them Huang Xiaotao's number.

Ye Shiwen was shattered, crying and thrashing as the guards struggled to restrain him. Seeing him like that — sobbing, snot running — made me feel awful.

He looked at me with desperate hope: "Song Yang, you'll help me, won't you? You have to help me."

I didn't know what to say. This was murder in front of hundreds of people. No matter how skilled I was, I couldn't save him. So I said, "I'll do my best to find the truth. But you have to cooperate."

He nodded frantically, head hitting the floor as guards held him down. "I could never kill her. I love her too much."