The Mysterious Villa Chapter Seventeen: True Colors Revealed

Time is life. This phrase holds true in nearly every circumstance; as long as one is alive, time trickles through a person’s body, minute by minute, second by second. When time runs out, so does life itself. That’s why so many people use “time is life” to admonish themselves or others, urging that not a single precious moment should be wasted.

For those whose time is already running out, they live each second as if counting down grains of sand.

When Zhang Xiaoman uttered “time is life,” he was speaking as much to himself as to the woman in the black raincoat—Tingting. His own time was limited, yet compared to Tingting, he seemed as rich as a king.

Tingting’s face was the very picture of terror, her eyes wide as saucers, as if she were silently screaming, “Don’t come any closer!”

Zhang Xiaoman strode calmly to Tingting, searching her quickly and producing a student ID. He glanced at the name on it. “Yin Tingting? So you did use your real name earlier. Yin, huh? Let me think…” He paused, feigning contemplation. “Is Yin Heng your father, by any chance?”

Tingting’s pupils contracted, her face turning even paler.

“All those years have passed, and you still can’t let go…” Zhang Xiaoman recalled the case of the air cannon murder from years ago—the man who had become a beast for the sake of his sister and his lover. He shook his head with a sigh and began searching Tingting again, this time pulling out a pink wallet. Inside, he found a photograph of a woman and a young girl, and stared at it. “How is your mother, Wang Jing?”

Tingting glared at Zhang Xiaoman, fury blazing in her eyes. That photograph was her most treasured possession, something no one else was allowed to touch.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t speak…” Zhang Xiaoman remembered. “I just told you that time is life, and you only have a few minutes left. No need for small talk, let’s get to the point. I think I understand your motive for trying to kill me…” He slipped the wallet back into her pocket and adopted a more serious tone. “Now there’s just one question left… Who told you I’d be returning to the dormitory tonight?”

Tingting exhaled sharply through her nose, a barely audible grunt serving as her answer.

“If you cooperate, I’ll call someone to administer the antidote right away, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened…” Zhang Xiaoman’s voice was gentle, almost paternal. “You’re young; your life holds infinite possibilities. You shouldn’t let old grudges end it here… How about this: I’ll guess, and if I’m right, just blink. That way, you won’t be breaking your word…”

Tingting rolled her eyes, then shut them tightly, as if to say, “Guess all you want.”

Zhang Xiaoman pressed on. “Does this person know you or your mother?”

Tingting kept her eyes shut, pretending not to hear.

“Hmm… You must think I don’t stand a chance of guessing,” Zhang Xiaoman mused aloud. “So, the one who tipped you off is someone I don’t know, but who wants me dead. That must mean it’s related to one of my old cases…”

Tingting fought to mask her alarm, forcing herself to remain calm.

Zhang Xiaoman glanced at the slight tremor of Tingting’s eyelashes and chuckled softly. “I think I’m beginning to understand…” He took out his phone, opened a messaging app, held down the voice button, and said coolly, “You can come in now.”

No sooner had he spoken than there was a knock at the door. Zhang Xiaoman strode to the entryway, unlocked the door, and ushered the visitor inside, his face expressionless.

Tingting opened her eyes to see Zhang Xiaoman and an old man with a white beard walking into the living room. A chill ran down her spine.

Zhang Xiaoman returned to the sofa, took a sip of coffee, and gestured toward the bearded man, who was retrieving a syringe from his pocket. “When you called him, I was back home recovering. In fact, he and I were playing chess at the time. He was your physics teacher, yes, but also my high school classmate. Didn’t your mother ever mention that?”

“Wang Jing died of illness when Tingting was in elementary school,” the old man interjected. “And when all that trouble befell their family, I was barely alive myself. No wonder Wang Jing never mentioned me…” He squinted, pressed the plunger so a few droplets of clear liquid beaded at the needle’s tip, and turned to Tingting. “Don’t blame me for betraying you. Even if I hadn’t told this old fox, you wouldn’t have been able to kill him. At least this way, you get to keep your life.”

“Curare… So that’s what you suggested she use,” Zhang Xiaoman said, pursing his lips. “Not very original… Luo Ci, don’t tell me you’re carrying that stuff right now…”

“Originality’s not the point. Every household has a kitchen knife, but that doesn’t stop it from being a murder weapon in countless cases…” Luo Ci replied, raising Tingting’s arm and patting it to find a vein. He inserted the needle, pressing until the last drop of liquid was gone before withdrawing it.

Zhang Xiaoman traced the rim of his cup with a finger, speaking slowly to Tingting. “Do you know your biggest mistake? It wasn’t calling Luo Ci. It was impersonating my apprentice to send out a riddle. Do you know who founded the ‘Propositions’ magazine?” He tapped his own nose. “Me. Years ago, an old fraud named Longbow Sent Not Forth swindled thirteen thousand from me and tricked me into taking over the Yiming Society. I thought I’d bought a losing business, only to find out Yiming Society owned a publishing house. The old man had bought the publisher just to print his own novels. When I took over, I started the ‘Propositions’ magazine on the side to make some pocket money…”

Luo Ci shot Zhang Xiaoman a sidelong look, muttering through gritted teeth, “You’re just lucky…”

“Nieh Yi—that’s my apprentice I mentioned earlier,” Zhang Xiaoman continued, ignoring Luo Ci’s jealousy. “He sometimes fills in for me with the riddles, and he’s often hard to reach. Anyone at the publisher could tell you that, so your plan to impersonate him and submit the new riddle was clever… Except that lately, Nieh Yi has been busy with a case in Green Vine City, so the riddle duties fell back to me…”

Luo Ci shrugged and told Tingting, “See? I told you—even if I’d said nothing, the outcome would be the same. I’ve run the odds; your chance of killing Zhang Xiaoman is practically zero.”

Tingting finally caught her breath, taking deep, gulping breaths. She sprang to her feet, glaring at Zhang Xiaoman and Luo Ci, her teeth grinding audibly. “Someday, you’ll regret saving me…” she spat.

“I understand how you feel…” Luo Ci’s gaze was complicated. “I too was once consumed by vengeance… As your former teacher, I feel obliged to advise you: let go of what you should let go. Don’t let hatred blind you. I was friends with your father, more or less. He helped me out in the past, so perhaps I should side with you… But honestly, your father’s death isn’t Zhang Xiaoman’s fault. He committed murder—he had to go to prison. Zhang Xiaoman arrested him as he should have. If he died in prison due to misfortune… that was fate.”

Tingting clenched her fists. “My father only killed someone who deserved it—what’s wrong with that? Don’t defend him! He ruined our family—how could I possibly let go of such a blood debt?”

“Murder is always wrong!” Zhang Xiaoman’s face turned cold. “If someone deserves to die, the law will punish them—not vigilante justice.”

“Let go, whether you want to or not…” Luo Ci cut in before Tingting could argue further. “First, as I said, you can’t kill Zhang Xiaoman. Second, even if you don’t, he’s dying anyway—so why bother?”

Tingting remembered the medicine Zhang Xiaoman had taken earlier. Her expression faltered, and the words she was about to utter stuck in her throat. Suddenly, she felt powerless. She bit her lip and, after holding Zhang Xiaoman’s gaze for thirty-three seconds, dropped her head and trudged out the door like a lost soul.

Watching Tingting’s solitary figure, Zhang Xiaoman raised his brows at Luo Ci. “Aren’t you going to comfort her? She was your student, after all…”

“This is a hurdle she has to clear herself…” Luo Ci pulled another syringe from his pocket and said leisurely, “Besides, I have more important things to do right now…”

Zhang Xiaoman’s face stiffened. He raised his arm as if to point, then let it drop. His tongue seemed to freeze, and he slurred, “You…”

“Curare wasn’t just in Tingting’s coffee,” Luo Ci said slowly, approaching Zhang Xiaoman. “There was some on the rims of both cups—I smeared it there myself. Tingting’s coffee had it both inside and on the rim, so the dose hit her hard and fast. Yours was only on the rim, so it’s slower, and far less severe—you’ll just be immobilized for a while. It’s not fatal…” He lifted Zhang Xiaoman’s arm and explained, “What I have in this syringe isn’t an antidote, but a sedative. I’m doing this at someone’s request—don’t blame me…”

Suddenly, Zhang Xiaoman’s face lost its rigid mask, and he sneered. His right hand shot out to grab Luo Ci’s syringe-wielding arm. Cocking his head, he said, “I was just waiting for you to reveal yourself… I noticed earlier, when I was making coffee, that someone had tampered with the cups.” He pointed at the handle. “The handles had been rotated thirty-five degrees. I always keep both handles at exactly one hundred eighty—that’s called symmetry…” He glanced at the shadow by the entrance. “Come on out, Wei Xue! I know you’re there. Not everyone can get their hands on sedatives…”

There was a commotion from the bedroom, and out stepped Wei Xue, her hair streaked with white and her arms akimbo. She glared at him. “What’s with you? You’re supposed to be recovering, but you sneak back here to play detective? Do you realize how sick you are? All this stress only makes things worse. Tonight, you’re coming home with me for treatment, no arguments…”

Zhang Xiaoman frowned. “You weren’t at the door?”

“I’ve been hiding in your bedroom wardrobe,” Wei Xue replied, pointing. “It’s freezing outside. I’m not as tough as Luo Ci…”

Zhang Xiaoman hurried out of the dorm and looked down the stairs, catching a glimpse of a shadow disappearing into the night.

“One meter seventy-five, sixty-five to seventy kilos, definitely a man…” Luo Ci, following behind, narrowed his eyes. “Any other enemies I should know about?”

Zhang Xiaoman shrugged. “Not yet, but who knows what the future might bring…”