Luck Ch.16.2

Chapter 16.2: Murder Mystery Game

The room’s walls were covered in golden damask wallpaper, paired with deep crimson velvet curtains, perfectly recreating the elegance of European classical style. It felt like they had stepped back two hundred years into an old royal palace.

And Qin Yan looked exactly like a nobleman from a painting—every gesture, every move, was like it had been frozen in an oil portrait.

Qin Yan frowned as he glanced at the dazzling wallpaper. “Am I really this flashy?”

Jiang Chi turned around and adjusted Qin Yan’s tie. “Too formal, Your Highness.”

Qin Yan pulled the tie off and draped it around Jiang Chi’s neck. “Now you’re the highness.”

Jiang Chi was wearing a loose short-sleeved shirt, but with a neatly tied necktie hanging from his neck. The clash of styles was striking—it gave off a confusing, ascetic kind of allure.

“Your tie is really nice,” Jiang Chi said, feeling the custom pattern on the back of the tie. “Is this bespoke?”

Qin Yan was crouched in front of his suitcase, organizing his toiletry kit. “If you like it, it’s yours.”

Jiang Chi sat down in the swivel chair. “Then I like your suit too.”

Qin Yan turned his head slightly and gave Jiang Chi a sidelong glance. “And now you don’t mind the elegance of suits?”

“I never said I didn’t like elegant,” Jiang Chi nudged Qin Yan lightly in the lower back with his toes. “Why are you so petty?”

Qin Yan didn’t even look back. “Go ahead, kick all you want—if it gets dirty, you’re the one washing it.”

Jiang Chi watched Qin Yan tidying up. “Fine, I’ll wash it. You can do all kinds of chores now—you’re no longer that little prince who tried to light the induction stove with a matchstick. I’m honestly proud.”

Qin Yan closed his suitcase. “Mm, all thanks to Dr. Jiang’s excellent guidance.”

Once they finished unpacking, the two of them sat out on the private oceanview balcony, drinking coffee.

The weather was perfect today. The sea was calm and still, the ship steady, and the coffee in their cups barely rippled—almost motionless.

From the moment they stepped onto the cruise, time seemed to slow down.

There wasn’t anything urgent or pressing to do. They sat like that for the entire afternoon, occasionally chatting, but mostly silent—just watching the sea, the sky, the clouds. And yet, it didn’t feel boring at all.

By the time crimson sunset clouds filled the sky, the rich second-generations who lived by night finally began to wake up.

On the ship, dinner naturally featured seafood as the main course.

Today’s chef’s recommendations included sautéed coral trout with green pepper, avocado sea urchin rice, and truffle foie gras, along with a few dishes whose names gave no hint about the actual ingredients.

The more cryptic the name, the more luxurious the dish—it was all about surprise and flair.

Jiang Chi glanced down at the appetizer in front of him.

It was a bowl of greenish soup—only filled to about a fifth of the bowl, and to make matters worse, a layer of white foam floated on top. At least the name was fittingly poetic: Yin-Yang Tai Chi Soup.

Jiang Chi asked Qin Yan, “Is there anything you feel like eating?”

Looking at the menu, Qin Yan felt like he was back in some business dinner setting—completely unappetized. “I can’t even tell what these dishes are supposed to be.”

“These kinds of restaurants are all like this. No clue how many years you’d get if guessing ingredients became a crime…” Jiang Chi randomly ticked off a few dishes on the menu and then handed it to Qin Yan. “Pick whatever you want. If you don’t like it, just give it to me.”

There was a wide variety of dishes—huge plates with tiny portions. Most were just decorative sauces or a handful of greens arranged delicately. Whether they tasted good or not, each dish amounted to only a bite or two.

Jiang Chi and Qin Yan sat side by side, slowly figuring out a pattern:

If Qin Yan swallowed a dish without any expression, it meant it was acceptable. If he hesitated with his chopsticks for a few seconds before quickly scooping and swallowing it, it meant he didn’t like it.

Right now, Qin Yan had been staring at the pig brain on his plate for a full thirty seconds.

Jiang Chi sighed, scooped the brain out of Qin Yan’s plate with a spoon, and ate it himself.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it. Don’t worry about it.”

Jiang Chi leaned in and murmured by Qin Yan’s ear, “I’m not picky.”

Qin Yan asked, “You still want the sea urchin rice?”

Jiang Chi couldn’t help laughing and handed over the dish. “You take it.”

Qin Yan scooped out the sea urchin, placed it into Jiang Chi’s plate, and ate the leftover rice himself.

At that moment, a voice suddenly spoke up—unfriendly in tone: “Even eating dinner, you two have to act all lovey-dovey? Jiang Chi, is this your new boyfriend? Not going to introduce him?”

The speaker was a handsome young man, looking to be around twenty, stylishly dressed, with a diamond stud gleaming on his left ear.

Fang Sixie frowned and scoffed, “Bai Wenjun!”

A mocking smile curled on Bai Wenjun’s face as he looked at Qin Yan and said, “Jiang Chi is best at eating from the bowl and looking at the pot, so be careful with your own bowl and don’t let anyone steal it from home, handsome boy.”

Qin Yan didn’t know who this person was, but following basic social etiquette, he gave a polite nod and smile. “Nice to meet you. You’re handsome too.”

Everyone: “…”

Jiang Chi looked blankly at Hong Zixiao, silently asking, ‘Who is this guy causing trouble?’

This person didn’t ring any bells in Jiang Chi’s memory. He must’ve shown up during those two years, which probably meant… he was one of the original Jiang Chi’s ex-boyfriends?

Hong Zixiao quickly typed something on his phone:

[Hong Zixiao: Bai Wenjun, duh. Probably your ex-ex-ex-ex-ex-ex-boyfriend. Second or third, I think.]

Jiang Chi: “…”

[Hong Zixiao: He was really young back then.]

Jiang Chi’s look shifted from confused to horrified.

[Jiang Chi: How young? Was he legal? Please tell me I didn’t break any laws.]

[Hong Zixiao: Sophomore or junior year of high school? It was ages ago. Technically, everyone should be over it by now. We wouldn’t have invited him otherwise. So why is he picking a fight again?]

Jiang Chi thought: How would I know?

What a disaster. These emotional debts left behind by the original Jiang Chi were now his responsibility to clean up!

He exchanged a glance with Hong Zixiao, who simply shrugged—‘Can’t help you here.’

Jiang Chi let out a helpless sigh.

Hearing that sigh, Bai Wenjun’s expression twisted. Unable to hold it in, he suddenly stood up.

The chair screeched harshly against the floor as he rose.

He grabbed a wine glass and, without warning, hurled its contents straight at Jiang Chi.

Hong Zixiao stepped in front of Jiang Chi, raising his arm to grab Bai Wenjun’s wrist. “Xiao Jun! That’s enough!”

Unable to shake Hong Zixiao off, Bai Wenjun angrily smashed the wine glass onto the floor, then turned and stormed out of the banquet hall.

With the sound of shattering glass, the room fell silent once again.

Hong Zixiao casually grabbed a napkin and wiped the wine stains off his clothes. “I’ll go check on him.”

Jiang Chi pressed a hand on Hong Zixiao’s shoulder. “You go change. I’ll go talk to him.”

After all, the person who tied the knot should be the one to untie it. Since Jiang Chi was willing to go talk, Hong Zixiao didn’t argue and simply nodded before heading off to change.

The sudden outburst had ignited everyone’s gossiping instincts.

Why had Bai Wenjun suddenly lost his temper?

People began exchanging subtle glances, all waiting for Jiang Chi to leave so they could start piecing together the drama among themselves.

Qin Yan said nothing but silently observed everyone’s expressions.

It seemed like everyone was desperate to decode the reason for Bai Wenjun’s outburst.

Could this be what Jiang Chi meant by “murder mystery game”?

Interesting.

Qin Yan had little information to work with. He’d only just joined this social circle and didn’t even know everyone’s names yet, much less have any real influence.

And that was a terrible feeling.

After all, wherever Qin Yan used to go, he was always the center of attention, the one everyone gravitated toward, hoping to extract some valuable insight from the ever-powerful President Qin.

Information wars are an invisible game of strategy—and information is the hidden gold mine. Unfortunately, in this particular game, Qin Yan held very few cards.

But that was fine. Rising from rock bottom and turning the tides? That just made the game more fun.

At the moment, Qin Yan hadn’t pieced everything together yet. He needed to observe a bit longer and listen in on what others had to say.

The integration and analysis of information was, after all, an important task.

Jiang Chi leaned over and said softly into Qin Yan’s ear, “I’ll step out for a bit and come right back. Will you feel awkward staying here?”

Qin Yan didn’t feel awkward at all—in fact, he found it quite entertaining.

None of the formal banquets he’d attended in the past had ever had anything this interesting happen.

The entire situation had been full of ups and downs, laced with chaos and surprise. It made people want to leave yet feel compelled to stay and find out what would happen next. The novelty of it all was oddly addictive.

Qin Yan analyzed calmly, “Bai Wenjun was perfectly fine when we saw him this afternoon. He wouldn’t have lost his temper for no reason. I want to understand what made him angry… Unfortunately, the known variables are still limited, so I can’t reach a conclusion yet. I need to hear what others think.”

Jiang Chi: “…”

Reach a conclusion? Need to hear others’ opinions?

What’s next? Write a paper on it? Maybe run some code on the spot to simulate ‘the various continuous random variables that could lead to Bai Wenjun’s anger’?

Jiang Chi happened to glance at Fang Sizhe’s phone screen and saw that their group of so-called friends had already formed a chat group—right there, in person—and were busy gossiping away.

Fantastic. It’s like the number of normal people around me just keeps shrinking.

Jiang Chi looked over at Qin Yan and said sarcastically, “Need me to help you rule out incorrect options?”

Qin Yan, not catching the sarcasm at all, replied, “Not necessary. But I do hope you can help me identify what type of information triggered his reaction.”

Jiang Chi looked baffled. “What do you mean, ‘type of information’?”

Li Youyou raised her hand enthusiastically: “Incidental information, opinion-based information, procedural information, concrete information, abstract information. I’m a journalism major—we just covered this last semester.”

Jiang Chi held his forehead. “You guys are really going all in with this, huh?”

Around the dining table, the few people who stayed behind were all staring at Jiang Chi, their eyes filled with curiosity. It was obvious everyone wanted to know exactly what kind of information had caused Bai Wenjun’s emotional meltdown.

They were treating this like a live-action murder mystery game!

Jiang Chi was about to blow a fuse from how his so-called friends were fanning the flames. “Should I go ahead and pick a host for you too?!”

All eyes turned to Qin Yan.

According to the logic of deduction games, the person who appears most suspicious at first is often the one to be cleared earliest.

If Bai Wenjun had been upset because of Jiang Chi’s new boyfriend, he would’ve been mad much earlier—not all of a sudden now.

So, for the time being, everyone tentatively ruled Qin Yan out as a suspect.

With that, Qin Yan’s status rose rapidly—he was now supported as the group’s leader, akin to the detective role in ‘Who’s the Murderer’.

A vein throbbed at Jiang Chi’s temple.

Seriously? Is there no justice left in this world?!

Everyone was clearly just here for the drama!

Jiang Chi said angrily, “Fine! Once I find out the answer, I’ll announce it over the ship’s PA system!”

A chorus of groans erupted:

“Oh no.” “Don’t do that.” “Can’t we compare notes after we’re done discussing?” “Spoilers are a crime, Brother Chi!” “Please, no, we’re begging you.”

Qin Yan rested his elbow on the table, fingers interlocked, expression inscrutable—like a calm and calculated final boss.

His voice was cool and authoritative: “This is the will of the people.”

Everyone quickly echoed in agreement.

Qin Yan lifted a hand ever so slightly, and the room instantly fell silent.

With solemn dignity, he declared, “Jiang Chi, the will of the people must not be defied.”

Jiang Chi: “…”

He didn’t know why, but looking at Qin Yan like this made him really want to bite him.

Maybe this is what people mean when they say even a cornered rabbit will bite.

Jiang Chi raised a hand and pinched Qin Yan’s cheek. “So you’re in on this with them to mess with me, huh?”

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