Chapter 12: Miao Miao on the Attic

The two of them walked out of the meeting room one after another. He Jueyun glanced back.

The quiet corridor, the heavy doors. This narrow passage seemed to embody the supercilious arrogance of those adults, driving a wedge of inequality between them and the students, making them forget their original mission and responsibility.

He Jueyun turned back, composed himself, and asked, “How could you be so sure they’d be bold enough to leave obvious evidence behind?”

Qiong Cang replied, “Didn’t you say we should make bold hypotheses and verify them carefully? Wang Dongyan’s Suicide Progress is already at 96%. If we don’t take some unconventional paths, how are we supposed to make a breakthrough?”

“You’re a bit too bold.” He Jueyun slung his jacket over his shoulder, draped his other arm around Qiong Cang’s shoulders, and said with a mischievous grin, “But well done!”

Qiong Cang gave a perfunctory tug of her lips, sharing in his celebration. “Actually, I was just bluffing. At first, I didn’t specify what the evidence was. It could have been evidence regarding Tian Yun’s death, a witness, or maybe just the surveillance footage mentioned at the morning meeting. Only those with a guilty conscience would connect the dots of a vague description and react abnormally. When they faced my probing and increasingly detailed descriptions, they didn’t show any obvious emotional shifts. This proves that what they were guarding against was basically consistent with my assumptions.”

“Your insight and adaptability are top-notch too,” He Jueyun said. “I heard the world you see is different. What did those people look like to you?”

Qiong Cang ignored his second question, sighing with exhaustion. “It’s just that enough of them showed up today. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to withstand questioning after committing a crime. The first time they’re tested, they’re bound to slip up. Besides, their conspiracy has gone far too smoothly for far too long, so smoothly that they’ve grown complacent. So, when they faced a student they looked down on and an ordinary cop today, their innate arrogance made them let down their guard. Subconsciously, they probably felt that even if we did find out, it wouldn’t matter.”

He Jueyun sneered. “They will eventually be buried by their own arrogance.”

·

The viewers in the Live Stream Room had long since gone wild.

The early stage of this Instance had been incredibly dry. The evidence-gathering phase was so monotonous that the number of online viewers had plummeted.

Just as the audience’s patience was about to run out, one breakthrough after another occurred, and the plot began to develop at breakneck speed.

Sanyao’s forums were now completely flooded with analytical and technical posts. The viewers who had returned, drawn by the hype, could only shed tears of regret in front of their screens.

“This is just like me buying the dip halfway up the mountain¹ and getting wiped out. I can never catch the action when it’s hot. 【crying】 I only left for a second, and now I have no idea what’s going on.”

“The BGM they carry with them is about to deafen me! 【so handsome it’s a crime】”

“Straight-A student solving problems vs. me solving problems. 【humbled】 She’s running on 32x speed while I’m still on a 2G network. I’m reporting this.”

“I’m hooked. So this is the power of a 92-point score!”

“What on earth made me arrogant enough to think she was nothing special in the beginning?”

“This girl is a silent operator! Every single step she takes hits a beat I never could have anticipated.”

“Are you sure she’s a ‘girl’? The pro might actually be quite old. Just looking at her aura, she’s clearly no ordinary person.”

“Thank you all for acknowledging my wife. 【shy】 We will be happy forever.”

“But how are they going to investigate next? There’s no direct evidence and no students willing to step forward. Even if they know what kind of people they are, they can’t just search them. Glimpsing the monster is only the beginning.”

“I’m just going to lie back and wait for the pro to carry me to the end. 【swinging legs】 This pro’s Suicide Progress is rising faster than any Player I’ve ever seen, but she’s also the one I have the most confidence in!”

“A wicked person will eventually bring about their own ruin. Most villains really do die from their own arrogance and complacency.”

·

On the screen, the two of them were walking down the emergency stairwell, descending step by step.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, making their conversation sound even clearer.

He Jueyun said, “Currently, we don’t have enough evidence to apply for a search warrant. Besides, we still don’t know whether the evidence they kept is in the form of photos, videos, or something like a diary.”

Feeling a slight chill, he shrugged his jacket back on properly. “The next clue must be hidden in the information we already have.”

Qiong Cang asked, “What did you mean when you said the surveillance footage from the day of Tian Yun’s death was faked?”

He Jueyun’s expression turned serious at her question. Without beating around the bush, he lowered his voice. “First, the timestamp was faked. The surveillance footage provided by First High School had altered timestamps. In their video, only about seven minutes passed between Tian Yun walking past the camera and jumping to her death. The police recreated the walk several times based on her pace in the footage and concluded that she must have gone straight to the rooftop to jump after returning to the dorm, leaving her no time to interact with any other students. This finding became key evidence in ruling her death a suicide.”

“Second… in their surveillance footage, Tian Yun returned to the dormitory alone. But the convenience store’s camera caught her returning to the dormitory with someone else that day.”

An ominous feeling washed over Qiong Cang, and her eyelid twitched. “Who?”

He Jueyun uttered the familiar name she expected to hear: “Xiang Qingxi.”

Qiong Cang was momentarily flooded with mixed emotions.

By then, the two had nearly reached the exit of the Administration Building.

They stepped out of the empty stairwell and turned a corner. As their field of vision suddenly opened up, they saw the very girl they had just been discussing.

Xiang Qingxi was standing in the first-floor lobby, looking up at a black-and-white inscription on the wall. The plaque read, “Great music is hard to hear, great form is invisible².” Hearing their footsteps, she turned around.

Xiang Qingxi’s voice carried a hint of desolation. “You really called the police? Do you know what the consequences of this will be?”

“I know,” Qiong Cang asked calmly. “Did you kill her?”

“It wasn’t me!” Xiang Qingxi blurted out, her voice loud and urgent.

Qiong Cang stared at her, as if examining her. The longer she looked, the more the disappointment in her eyes began to show.

“What is that look?” Xiang Qingxi asked, her feelings hurt.

“So you know who did it,” Qiong Cang said out of the blue.

Xiang Qingxi froze.

Qiong Cang lowered her gaze. “Because a normal person’s reaction would be, ‘Who?’ or ‘Was it really not a suicide?’ Unless, from the very beginning, you had already accepted the fact that she didn’t commit suicide.”

The color drained completely from Xiang Qingxi’s face, and her body seemed to lose all its strength. She swayed slightly, looking exceptionally fragile.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but let me tell you, running away is never a solution. It might seem useful, but once it blows up, it will cause even greater damage. And…”

Qiong Cang took a step closer, staring straight into her eyes, radiating an intense pressure. “You don’t have the mental strength to handle this, and you can’t bear that kind of responsibility. If you keep standing by and doing nothing, you will definitely regret it.”

Xiang Qingxi’s lips turned pale, her entire body stiffening. She wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out.

He Jueyun stood solemnly to the side.

He looked at the swaying Xiang Qingxi, and then at the deep trembling shaking her body, even feeling a bit of sympathy for her. Just as he was about to speak, Qiong Cang looked away first. Leaving behind a simple “take care of yourself,” she walked past her and out of the Administration Building’s main doors.

He Jueyun scribbled down a phone number and handed it to her. “Contact me if anything comes up, and please trust the police. Our goal is actually the same as yours.”

Xiang Qingxi took it absentmindedly, unclear if she had actually heard him.

He Jueyun quickly ran to catch up with Qiong Cang.

Qiong Cang was walking very fast. In the short time he was delayed, she had already pulled over ten meters ahead of him, with absolutely no intention of waiting.

He Jueyun jogged to catch up and asked, “Do you think she killed her?”

“I don’t know,” Qiong Cang kicked a stone on the roadside. “She is highly suspect, isn’t she?”

He Jueyun said, “I don’t think so. Her mental fortitude is way too weak. Unless she’s an absolute master actress.”

Qiong Cang stared at him without saying a word.

After a while, He Jueyun couldn’t hold out and surrendered, “…Trust me, the jokes you used to tell were much colder than this.”

Qiong Cang: “Oh…” That hurt. She felt this was complete slander.

Qiong Cang squinted in the direct sunlight.

He Jueyun looked in the direction she was walking, realizing she was going neither to the dorms nor the classrooms. Frowning, he asked, “What do you plan to do next?”

Qiong Cang: “Find evidence.”

He Jueyun: “Where are you going to find evidence? Does Zhou Nansong really have evidence in her hands? Wasn’t that just you bluffing them?”

Qiong Cang said, “I don’t know, but I think it’s highly likely. Maybe Wang Dongyan even saw it, which is why she was acting so out of it in the period before Zhou Nansong’s suicide. We’ll just keep following the clues. So far, we haven’t found any decisive evidence.”

Qiong Cang pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen. “If there really is evidence, Zhou Nansong wouldn’t have left it at school, because after her death, the school would likely search her things. It shouldn’t be at home either. Her mother clearly doesn’t know anything. If she left it at home, it might never be found, and the matter would remain unresolved.”

He Jueyun murmured softly, “Then where could it be…”

Qiong Cang said, “A place we wouldn’t expect, but one we would definitely notice.”

He Jueyun felt this description was far too abstract. They didn’t even know Zhou Nansong that well, so how could they know where she would hide something?

He Jueyun pursed his lips. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit him, and he said, “Right, I remember now. The convenience store owner told me earlier that Zhou Nansong loved buying all kinds of stationery from him. Notebooks, pens, tape, that sort of thing. If her mental state was very unstable at the time, and her best friend had already passed away, do you think she might have written down her thoughts in a little notebook? That’s a common habit.”

Qiong Cang stopped in her tracks and looked at him seriously. “There was no special notebook on her desk. Nor was there a pile of stationery.”

He Jueyun pondered, “Taken home by her mother? Or hidden somewhere to avoid being found by outsiders?”

“All her textbooks and homework were left at school. Why would her mother only take her notebooks?” Qiong Cang grew puzzled as she spoke. “Why did she buy so much tape and so many notebooks?”

He Jueyun explained, “It could just be a simple hobby. You might not know, but there’s a specific community called the Bullet Journal³ community. Enthusiasts gather to discuss how to decorate a notebook, making it look nicer and more unique. As more people pay attention to it, the economic effect spawns related industries. Selling notebooks, selling tape, selling creative collages…”

His voice trailed off as he spoke. The two exchanged a look, both seemingly realizing some overlooked detail.

Qiong Cang said, “I need to go home.”

He Jueyun immediately said, “I’ll take you.”

Qiong Cang found this baffling. “Why are you sticking so close to me? You could go question Xiang Qingxi and the people around her, or you could ask Zhou Nansong’s family for permission to check her social media records before she died. You could get a lot done by taking advantage of your status.”

“The thing I need to do most right now is make sure you don’t commit suicide,” He Jueyun had to remind her. “Your Suicide Progress is already at 96%. I have to prioritize your personal safety.”

·

He Jueyun drove Qiong Cang home and left temporarily to handle other matters. Before leaving, he repeatedly instructed her to stay home and call him immediately if anything happened.

For a big, burly man to suddenly become so fussy, acting as if he were dealing with a terminally ill patient, left Qiong Cang completely speechless.

Fortunately, it was a short drive. After getting out of the car, Qiong Cang took a few quick steps into the house and said goodbye to him.

Wang Dongyan’s room was just like her dorm, incredibly neat. After entering the bedroom, Qiong Cang went straight to the desk and began casually searching through the items on it for information.

Qiong Cang had originally thought that Zhou Nansong might have given her Bullet Journal to Wang Dongyan to bring home. However, even after searching the entire house, she could not find anything of the sort.

…Then again, Zhou Nansong probably did not trust Wang Dongyan to that extent yet.

Feeling a bit helpless, she could only start searching meticulously from the smallest details.

On the left side of Wang Dongyan’s desk was a row of cabinets containing several sketchbooks.

From Wang Dongyan’s draft books, it was also clear that she was very interested in manga. Qiong Cang had a gut feeling that this would be the breakthrough point, so she placed the sketchbooks on the desk and began looking through them page by page.

Qiong Cang did not know much about manga, so she examined them very carefully, in case Wang Dongyan had hidden information in the composition.

This was another period of silence.

Flipping through drawings was even more time-consuming than flipping through messy drafts, especially when she did not know how the other party would convey the information.

Fortunately, Wang Dongyan did not have many sketchbooks. After about an hour, the cabinet was successfully emptied.

Qiong Cang sat quietly in a daze for a moment. She set the last sketchbook down on her right side, her face expressionless, and then pulled out the first one from the bottom to start flipping through it again.

The netizens watching this scene suddenly felt like collapsing, their excited hearts feeling as if a bucket of dry ice had been poured over them.

“Here we go again? I just got here, and we’re back to AFK search mode?”

“Looking at drawings is better than looking at high school senior exam prep questions. Stop complaining.”

“To be honest, these drawings are actually pretty good. They’re much more delicate than those of many internet-famous artists.”

“The information in this Instance is too scattered. The clues are hidden so deep; the difficulty is too high.”

“…Even the boss hasn’t found anything. Does that mean she’s looking in the wrong direction?”

“The easier way should be to start with Xiang Qingxi, but the boss’s Suicide Progress is already at 96%. She might not make it until Xiang Qingxi comes to her senses.”

·

The second time searching through the sketchbooks was much faster. Qiong Cang had actually already memorized them, but she wanted to look again to see if things would become clearer.

In less than half an hour, the second search was complete.

Qiong Cang put the things down, pressed the back of her neck, and stretched her joints.

Resting her head in her hands, she leaned back against the chair, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

She could faintly feel that the clues were right in front of her, yet she could not grasp them. That feeling of an itch she could not scratch made her extremely uncomfortable.

Bored, Qiong Cang took out her phone again to check various apps.

Qiong Cang had already looked through several social media apps on Wang Dongyan’s phone. Among the frequently logged-in accounts, there was a relatively hidden alt account.

Wang Dongyan used to have a bad relationship with Zhou Nansong, so using an alt account to quietly follow Zhou Nansong’s social media updates was completely normal. Many people would follow their rivals, and it did not necessarily mean they wanted to do anything.

On WeChat, because they were classmates, they were friends on the surface.

On Weibo, Wang Dongyan’s alt account only followed the marketing accounts and system accounts forced on her by the app, plus an account suspected to be Zhou Nansong’s personal life account. The update time of that account had indeed stopped on the eve of her death.

Only on DY⁴, a short video app, Wang Dongyan had only one logged-in account, which had no posted content and followed no one.

Qiong Cang had initially thought that Wang Dongyan just did not like using this app. Now that she thought about it, maybe Zhou Nansong had deleted her own account. Once an account was deleted, followers would not receive any notification, making it impossible to verify if Wang Dongyan had originally followed her.

Then, Zhou Nansong’s deliberate act of deleting her account became very meaningful. Was she afraid that someone would find something by following the account?

Qiong Cang tapped her finger on the screen. After a moment of contemplation, she reopened the sketchbook, searching through the dates to find the latest drawing.

That drawing was not finished; even the draft was only half-done, making it impossible to tell what the final product would look like. Above the drawing, a line of words was written: “Miao Miao on the Attic”.

The handwriting was very messy.

Most of Wang Dongyan’s drawings were of people, and rarely of animals. This “Miao Miao” seemed very out of place. Perhaps it was not the name of the drawing, but rather information that Wang Dongyan had casually written down on the latest page.

“Miao Miao on the Attic…” Qiong Cang murmured, searching for it on Douyin.

After a brief loading prompt, an account with the exact same ID indeed appeared in the search results.

Qiong Cang clicked into the user’s homepage and found that this uploader was also a Bullet Journal enthusiast.

This Miao Miao friend seemed to be relatively well-off. She would occasionally post unboxing videos, telling her followers where she bought her materials and Bullet Journals, and how the quality was, making recommendations for everyone.

Qiong Cang perked up and began searching through the uploaded videos, quickly finding a suspected unboxing video.

She turned up the volume and tapped on the video to play it.

A pair of hands and a huge box appeared on the screen, with the uploader, who had a voice changer on, narrating in the background.

“This is a package sent from A City. The sender said she was leaving the hobby, so she sold everything to me at half price. I did not expect the box to be this big. Let’s take a look together.”

She took the items out one by one.

Qiong Cang did not recognize those pens, but listening to the uploader’s tone, she seemed very pleasantly surprised.

Toward the end of the unboxing, the uploader’s pleasant surprise had turned into trepidation and doubt.

“Isn’t this sold way too cheap? This is impossible. Did she pack the wrong things by mistake?”

The hands in the video picked up another notebook and flipped through it. It was densely packed with writing.

She said, “This notebook has already been used. Why did she send it to me? Now I’m sure she made a mistake while packing. I’ll try to get in touch with her later.”

She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Actually, I placed this order back in March, but it only arrived two days ago. I thought she was a scammer at first because she suddenly went completely out of reach, so I was really surprised to get a delivery notification a few days ago. I’ll try to contact her again. If any of you know this girl, please pass the message along. That’s all for today’s unboxing. Bye!”

Translator’s Notes