Chapter 24: Surveillance

Qiong Cang humbly got into He Jueyun’s car.

He Jueyun had changed into a gender-neutral outfit: a loose shirt, long pants, and a black trench coat over it. His long hair was tied up and tucked completely inside a hat, in a desperate bid to hide the fact that he was a woman. However, his shifty expression made him look rather suspicious, like someone up to no good.

Since Qiong Cang was in his car, it wasn’t convenient for her to complain about it.

Fortunately, the electronics store was in a large shopping mall not far from their villa district. Qiong Cang walked in quickly, picked a model at random, and asked the shopkeeper to package it. By the time the two of them returned home, only about half an hour had passed.

After entering the house, Qiong Cang took the surveillance equipment out of the box. Several red circular markers immediately appeared in the corners of the villa, prompting her with the installation locations, which were likely where Wu Ming had installed the cameras in reality.

It seemed that after realizing he was being followed, Wu Ming had also taken some precautions.

Qiong Cang looked around, sketching a rough layout of the cameras’ field of view in her mind. She nodded and said, “Based on the lens’s field of view and the layout of the house, he chose the installation spots well. There are basically no major blind spots in the entire house. Plus, the cameras can be partially hidden by decorations, making them quite discreet.”

He Jueyun said, “This villa is the primary crime scene. If there was surveillance, wouldn’t it have captured the murder directly? That would make this case too simple. There’d be no need to turn it into an Instance.”

Qiong Cang carried the equipment inside and said, “Which means the surveillance didn’t serve its intended purpose in the end.”

He Jueyun asked, “Then why are you still installing them?”

“Of course. There must be a reason and a catalyst for why it didn’t work,” Qiong Cang said. “It might have left behind some other evidence.”

Qiong Cang sat cross-legged on the floor, inserting a memory card into the camera’s slot to prepare for installation. As she worked, she said, “The one I bought this time is just a standard ARM-embedded remote surveillance system. It runs on a Linux operating system, supports cross-gateway transmission, and can quickly transfer data between multiple platforms. The cameras have built-in storage and internet connectivity. Since Wu Ming’s death was discovered less than twelve hours after it happened, the data on the memory card and in the cloud couldn’t have been overwritten yet. Under these circumstances, completely deleting all the surveillance footage in a way that police technicians can’t recover it… I won’t say it’s absolutely impossible, but at least an ordinary hacker couldn’t do it.”

Qiong Cang lined up the configured cameras beside her. “To safely avoid the surveillance, the Murderer would either have to shut down the system before committing the crime, which only Li Yujia could do. Or, if you aren’t the Murderer, the best method would be to take all the cameras and the communication devices connected to them, leaving the police completely unaware that surveillance ever existed here.”

“If the Murderer really did that, it makes things even easier,” Qiong Cang said with a smile. “Finding an unknown Murderer in Wu Ming’s vast social circle, versus searching for a set of surveillance cameras within a fixed area. Which do you think is easier?”

What she said was indeed true.

He Jueyun walked over to help her configure the network.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to successfully install and set up the surveillance equipment according to the prompts. After confirming that the feed on her phone was working properly, Qiong Cang said with satisfaction, “Could you do me a favor and drive me to the office? I need to go to work.”

Although they had been busy running around, the in-game time was actually just past noon. Having the remaining half of the day to search for information at the company was more than enough for Qiong Cang.

He Jueyun nodded.

As long as she spoke like a normal person, He Jueyun was more than happy to accommodate her requests. To show his encouragement, he even replied with a rather enthusiastic, “You got it!”

·

Given Wu Ming’s personality, his company’s office had to be respectable.

He had rented two floors in a commercial building in the Science and Technology City. A glass monument stood at the entrance of the building, with the company’s name embossed in gold, looking modern and grand.

Qiong Cang’s late arrival did not surprise anyone. She walked straight past the reception desk to her office, closing the door and windows to shut out the outside world.

The amount of information accessible as a student was, of course, incomparable to that of a company boss. The scope of their activities and the people they interacted with were entirely different.

Qiong Cang first turned on Wu Ming’s computer and checked the recently added files, filtering their importance based on their names.

Soon, Qiong Cang found a new version of a signing contract. Wu Ming had probably wanted to modify it this year, but the specific details were still being finalized.

Qiong Cang studied the clauses carefully. It was clear that Wu Ming treated veterans and newcomers very differently, as reflected in their rights and termination restrictions, giving the senior employees ample freedom and respect.

It was common knowledge that contracts in the entertainment industry were often unreasonable, especially for practitioners who relied heavily on platforms, such as streamers and rookie artists. While they boasted a glamorous facade, they signed completely unequal business contracts behind the scenes. Consequently, agencies and management teams emerged to fill the gap.

As the industry matured and resources became increasingly monopolized, the chances of making it big on one’s own grew slimmer. Newcomers who wanted to enter the industry had to rely not only on platforms but also on teams. Even when faced with predatory contracts, they had no choice.

Wu Ming’s contract, compared to other companies in the same industry, could be considered quite “fair.” Perhaps this was also how he managed to capture the market and grow so rapidly.

Not only that, but Qiong Cang also discovered that Wu Ming had an alt account.

This secretly petty man actually lurked secretly in the company’s group chat to see what his employees thought of him. He would then write down the full names of those who spoke ill of him behind his back in a memo, looking for opportunities to scold them later. He simply couldn’t take criticism.

However, judging by the attitude in the group chat, he was still a relatively decent boss.

Qiong Cang stretched her arms and let out a long yawn.

Based on the information gathered so far, Wu Ming did not seem like a truly evil person, but rather a mundane, ordinary man. He had plenty of bad habits, along with a bit of low cunning. He was opportunistic, knew how to bide his time, and could clearly weigh the pros and cons.

Without any conflict of interest, this kind of person would not openly make a mortal enemy of anyone. His personality inclined more toward being a tyrant only at home.

To be honest, other than Li Yujia, Qiong Cang really could not think of anyone else who would hate him enough to want him dead.

Qiong Cang had no interest in looking at the rest of the financial reports or creative proposals on the computer. She stood up and walked over to the glass window, taking in the layout of the entire room to get a comprehensive view.

Wu Ming’s office had a strong lived-in feel. Some of the small ornaments leaned toward a feminine aesthetic, such as the potted plants and the display stand on the desk. He had likely been influenced by someone. Furthermore, when Qiong Cang was sitting at the desk earlier, she had caught the faint scent of a woman’s perfume.

Li Yujia did not wear perfume, and there was nothing of the sort in their bedroom.

Qiong Cang turned and pulled open the blinds, looking out at the men and women working in the main office.

As an MCN company¹ filled with young blood, the influencers and staff Wu Ming signed included plenty of attractive men and women.

He did not love Li Yujia, but he was still a young man with physical needs. It stood to reason that he might have a mistress. If he really was having an affair, choosing someone from the office would be much more convenient and safer.

Qiong Cang expressionlessly scanned the people walking back and forth, wondering if Wu Ming’s lover was among them.

However, ever since she entered the office, no one had come in to disturb her. On her way in, none of the female employees had looked at her with any hint of intimacy or secret understanding.

Most importantly, Qiong Cang had not found any trace of a lover in Wu Ming’s chat logs or call history.

Without concrete evidence, everything was merely speculation.

Qiong Cang rubbed the stubble on her chin. Feeling the unfamiliar roughness against her fingertips, she felt a brief moment of self-doubt.

Perhaps she was just being cynical and unfairly questioning Wu Ming’s innocence. After all, there was no rule saying a man could not wear women’s perfume, or that an employee could not sit in the boss’s chair.

Just then, the assistant walked in carrying a blue gift bag. She smiled and said, “Boss, this is the gift you asked me to order last time. I’ve already wrapped it for you.”

Qiong Cang took the bag and pulled out the item inside to take a look.

It was a palm-sized box, exquisitely wrapped. It had a moderate weight, making it difficult to guess what was inside based on size alone.

A light blue card was tucked into the ribbon on the box, with a line of elegant, forceful handwriting written in fountain pen:

“Bathed in the brilliant glow of the Polaris, you journeyed through the dark night to reach me.”

Qiong Cang’s eyelids twitched.

Given the state of the couple’s relationship, it was highly unlikely they shared such romantic sentiments.

The line was from a famous love poem. Qiong Cang was just thinking that Wu Ming possessed an unexpected poetic streak when the assistant spoke up. “Boss, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll head out.”

“Wait.” Qiong Cang slipped the card out from the ribbon and asked casually, “What gift did we end up choosing? I’ve forgotten.”

The assistant smiled. “The amethyst necklace. Didn’t you say your wife prefers purple?”

Qiong Cang smiled as well. “Oh, right. The last time I bought her a gift, she complained about my terrible memory… By the way, how long ago was that?”

“Only about two weeks ago,” the assistant said. “For your wedding anniversary, you gave your wife a bracelet.”

Qiong Cang gave a helpless laugh. “Right. She always complains that I forget our anniversaries and miss the gifts I’m supposed to give her.”

The assistant looked envious. “Boss, you’re already doing great! You personally pick out a gift for your wife every single month. Unlike my boyfriend—he doesn’t even remember my birthday. You two have such a wonderful relationship.”

“We do,” Qiong Cang said with a chuckle. “But then, she does love to act spoiled.”

Qiong Cang chatted with her for a bit longer. Realizing the assistant truly had no idea who the gift was actually for, she waved her hand. “Alright, that’s all. You can go.”

The assistant bowed slightly. “Understood.”

Once the assistant left, Qiong Cang unwrapped the gift, took a photo of the amethyst necklace, and sent it to He Jueyun.

Qiong Cang: A gift from Wu Ming to his lover. His assistant says he prepares a gift like this every month.

Qiong Cang: There shouldn’t be any amethyst jewelry at home, right? From what I’ve seen, Li Yujia isn’t the type to dress up.

He Jueyun replied quickly, brief and to the point.

He Jueyun: None.

Qiong Cang quickly typed out a reply with one hand.

Qiong Cang: This shows Wu Ming cares deeply about his public image. He actually maintains a “devoted husband” persona at work.

Qiong Cang: He’s terrified of this affair being discovered, so he covers his tracks meticulously. Yet, he’s also deeply influenced by this person, quietly enjoying the changes they’ve brought to his life in secret. This relationship must feel both conflicting and thrilling to him. What do you think?

Qiong Cang hoped He Jueyun could help refine Wu Ming’s psychological profile, reasoning that a man would better understand another man’s mindset. To her surprise, He Jueyun sent back two brief messages in rapid succession.

He Jueyun: Tsk.

He Jueyun: Scumbag.

Qiong Cang stared at the messages, sensing something slightly off, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

·

“The moment he blurted out ‘scumbag,’ I knew he was fully immersed in the role.”

“Lmao, hahaha!”

“Watching Brother Q get led further and further astray.”

“I have three Live Stream Rooms open. My computer is about to crash and my eyes are giving out. I think I’ll just stay here and read the comments.”

“A mistress that even the pro can’t track down—impressive. If Wu Ming wanted to, he could easily compete for the title of ultimate player.”

·

Qiong Cang conducted a second search of the office, hoping to find any clues about Wu Ming’s lover. Before long, a system notification popped up, telling her that it was time to get off work.

The in-game date was February 25th, the day Wu Ming first began to suspect someone was stalking him. The identity of the stalker remained unknown, as this segment was part of a fixed storyline.

Qiong Cang quickly packed her things, preparing to walk home.

Translator’s Notes