Chapter 4: The Next Day

The next day, Su Shengxin and Shang Yin met once again in the living room.

According to the rules, the two were permitted to interact today, but not in private; they were required to be in the presence of the other guests.

Shang Yin had risen early to prepare some congee—century egg and lean pork porridge—served with the tea-marinated eggs Su Shengxin had prepared the night before, along with two simple side dishes. Once they finished breakfast, the two set off.

The filming location for this show was actually a vacation villa. The four pairs of guests resided in four separate suites, while the staff occupied other rooms in the hotel.

The most luxurious cabin in this villa had been reserved neither for the guest couples nor for the producers or directors, but instead served as the venue for the program's various collective activities.

It was truly worthy of being the villa's most opulent cabin; the living room was immense, with a piano and a *guqin* placed before the windows.

The piano was naturally intended for the pianist, but the *guqin*—that, surprisingly, was meant for Su Shengxin.

Many fans knew that Su Shengxin’s parents were masters of traditional Chinese music, and that Su Shengxin had been learning the *guqin* since childhood.

Upon seeing the instrument, Su Shengxin immediately understood the production team’s intent. He seated himself on the stool, gently stroking the strings. With his left hand pressing the strings and his right hand plucking, a deep, resonant sound instantly pierced the space, vibrating in sync with everyone’s heartbeats.

The music was profound, yet every note was distinct.

Plucking, flicking, hooking, picking, striking, sliding—his fingers moved with intricate grace, like blooming flowers.

At first, the tonal register shifted constantly, ethereal and shifting, like the peaks of mountains shrouded in mist. Then, the sound turned suddenly lively, like the murmuring of a clear, cool stream. Later, the water grew turbulent; slow, gentle strokes intersected with rapid, rolling glissandos, making the listeners feel tense, as if they were navigating a small boat through dangerous gorges. And then, the intensity faded, the light boat had passed, and the heart returned to tranquility.

The pianist said softly, "‘High Mountains and Flowing Water.’ A story about 'soulmates.'"

The NBA player, however, looked confused: "???"

His wife—an older, established singer-songwriter—explained gently to her husband: "When the musician Boya played the zither, the woodcutter Zhong Ziqi understood every meaning behind it—this is the high mountain, this is the flowing water... Later, when Zhong Ziqi died, Boya smashed his zither and broke the strings, never to play again for the rest of his life."

The NBA player: "Oh, I see..."

Shang Yin stood with his hands in his pockets, watching quietly, his gaze sharp and focused.

Su Shengxin kept his eyes lowered, his gaze not on the strings but fixed on the empty air, unfocused. As the ripples of the flowing water continued, occasionally passing through a turbulent bend, his expression remained quiet and serene.

Yet, suddenly, the sound of water surged again!

At that moment, Su Shengxin abruptly lifted his eyes. His clear, bright gaze looked directly at Shang Yin. As his hands continued to play, Shang Yin felt a jolt in his chest, his heart skipping a beat!

Su Shengxin watched him for a moment before looking back down at the strings, transitioning into the final movement.

The pianist looked on with appreciation. Su Shengxin glanced at him, then pulled his gaze away, but as his right fingertips continued to play, he missed a note right at the ending!

"Oh!" the pianist lamented, "A wrong note! That was a wrong note!"

Su Shengxin pushed the table and stood up, laughing, "I really am not very good. I couldn't even remember this one piece in its entirety. You, on the other hand, play hours of concerts, and the repertoire is different every time—you’re amazing. And," Su Shengxin paused, "that was a *guqin* piece. You were actually able to tell if every single note was correct. Is a pianist's brain just a thick encyclopedia of musical scores?"

The others all looked at the pianist, exclaiming in wonder: "Can you really tell if a single note is wrong in any song?"

The pianist tried to be modest but found he couldn't, saying, "If it's a famous piece, certainly. Even if I haven't memorized the score, I can usually hear if something is off."

The others marveled in surprise; only Shang Yin continued to watch Su Shengxin, his eyes deep and unreadable.

He had seen through it.

The pianist was relatively quiet and taciturn, so Su Shengxin had intended to use the "wrong note" to give the pianist a chance to shine, providing him with some high-exposure footage and a memorable moment so the audience could get to know him.

If he himself played perfectly but the pianist played even better, the scene would be dull; the audience might be more impressed by Su Shengxin’s crossover performance, after all, a pianist playing the piano wasn't a novelty, while Su Shengxin had a large and fervent fan base. Su Shengxin did not want to steal the spotlight—"music" should have been the highlight of the pianist's charm; who was he to take that?

This was inconsistent with the persona Su Shengxin had been desperately trying to build over the past few days.

It was quite amusing.

The pianist also praised Su Shengxin: "Your *guqin* playing is quite excellent."

Su Shengxin said, "Thank you."

The pianist added, "Truly worthy of being..."

He was about to mention Su Shengxin's parents, but Su Shengxin suddenly interrupted him: "Won't you try that piano?"

A flicker of confusion crossed the pianist's eyes, but he didn't dwell on it, saying, "Alright, I'll give it a try."

He played a piece perfectly suited for showcasing technique, his ten fingers flying so rapidly they were a blur, naturally drawing another round of astonishment and praise.

After the pianist finished and the group began moving toward the inner room, Shang Yin asked Su Shengxin casually, "Why did you interrupt him?"

As the two trailed behind, Su Shengxin waited for a moment before saying, "You know why. Because I am my parents'—"

At this point, Su Shengxin looked at Shang Yin, their eyes locking. Because the microphones were on, Su Shengxin made no sound, merely using his lips to finish the thought: "Disgrace."

Shang Yin was stunned, and by then, Su Shengxin had already walked into the room.

This suite was quite spacious and had been set up to look like a conference room, with four chairs placed on each side of the table, totaling eight.

Today's game was a small crime-solving mystery. Because it was a dating show, not a detective program, there were no special decorations on the set. A screen hung on the wall, and on the table sat a wireless mouse along with some blank paper and pencils—that was the extent of the setup. The guests would make key choices on the computer, and the screen would automatically advance the plot; it felt less like being on a show and more like playing a game.

In the game, no one was assigned roles like "murderer" or "police." Instead, everyone discussed and consulted together, winning or losing as a team. The show was relatively lighthearted and aimed to avoid games with clear "winners and losers," focusing primarily on romance and chemistry, putting no real pressure on the guests.

The game began, the indoor lights dimmed, and the guests laughed.

But immediately after, words appeared line by line on the large wall screen:

【December 25, 1998, a factory worker surnamed Zhang discovered a black trash bag on the side of the road near the railway tracks in Daqing, inside which were buried white bones and red chunks of flesh—】

White text on a black background, accompanied by a bloody backdrop, made the guests feel an immediate chill.

It was surprisingly atmospheric.

The white text continued:

【The dismemberment case surfaced. The Heilongjiang Provincial Public Security Department quickly formed a special task force, including members Shang Yin, Su Shengxin, Jin Ranqiu, Qing Lan...】

【After collecting and analyzing the body parts, police experts determined: Time of death was three days ago; time of dismemberment was two days ago; the cross-sections of the limbs were all cut by a sharp instrument; the deceased was female; age approximately 21; height approximately 1.68 meters...】

The Best Actress, possessing a mature, elder-sister aura, asked, "I'd like to learn—how do they determine the age and height here?"

Her husband, an internationally acclaimed director who had previously filmed crime dramas, told her, "Bone sections, bone length."

The Best Actress nodded.

After the text, various tools appeared on the screen, leaving everyone a bit bewildered. Shang Yin, however, smiled faintly: "Click on the train schedule."

"Uh..." The pianist controlled the wireless mouse on the table, clicking on the train schedule and asking uncertainly, "And then?"

Shang Yin glanced at it briefly and said, "Dumping a body must happen in the dead of night. In Heilongjiang on December 25th, it should be pitch black from 5 PM to 7 AM, but the culprit wouldn't do this while people are awake. Sleeping cars usually turn off the lights at 10 PM, and once people are sound asleep... midnight is safer. Take a look at the schedule; find the trains passing by there between midnight and 2 AM. After 2 AM, people on the train return to light sleep." Usually, people enter deep sleep two hours after falling asleep, and return to light sleep after two or three hours.

The pianist's wife, a principal dancer with a sweet temperament, raised her hand and said, "Found it... there's only one train, K1050, passing the dumping site at 1 AM."

Just as Shang Yin was about to speak, Su Shengxin said coolly, "That's not it."

The others: "???"

"It should be a train going in the opposite direction," Su Shengxin said. "The body was dumped in a very misleading way. We assumed he threw the plastic bag directly out of the window. But... look at the crime scene photos again."

The pianist flipped back to the previous page, and Su Shengxin gazed at the screen: "Did you notice? Due to inertia, the upper part of the trash bag would sway in the direction of the train's travel. Based on the tilt of the bag, we can determine... the culprit didn't just throw the bag out the window, but to deliberately mislead the police, he threw the bag directly over the tracks in the opposite direction, onto the other side. Only then would the top of the bag tilt that way. He was riding the train in the opposite direction."

The principal dancer realized with a start: "Ah!"

Shang Yin rested his chin on one hand, watching Su Shengxin quietly.

"Then it must be this one... K1052." The NBA player had keen eyesight and praised, "You two are so smart."

Su Shengxin and Shang Yin exchanged a glance, neither speaking.

The pianist clicked into "K1052," paused for a moment, and said, "Darn, this train... it goes from Daqing to Qiqihar, but there are dozens of stops before that! It actually originates from Urumqi! Now what? How do we determine where the culprit boarded?"

The Best Actress remarked, "This production team is so mean!"

This time, Shang Yin deliberately said nothing, just watching Su Shengxin opposite him. Su Shengxin didn't notice; his eyes were fixed on the screen. Because he was twisting his neck, the muscles on one side stood out. Seeing that no one else wanted to speak, he said, "It should be one or two stops prior, Zhaodong or Harbin."

"Why?" the international director disagreed, "It's unlikely he'd dump the body right after boarding! That's too close to home! It's too easy to be spotted." As a director, his intelligence was naturally quite high.

"I actually agree with Shengxin. It's Zhaodong or Harbin," Shang Yin said, calmly supporting his partner. "Look at the schedule. The stop before that is four hours away from Daqing. This train stops at Daqing at 1 AM, Zhaodong at midnight, and Harbin at 11 PM. The stop before that is after 9 PM. At that time, people aren't asleep yet. It's unlikely he would sit on the train with several bags of remains and wait quietly until 2 AM. He would worry about many things, such as the bags tearing, blood leaking, or the smell spreading... He must have boarded the train after the lights went out at 10 PM, and he would want to get it over with quickly."