Suspect
When Yu Song woke up, her whole body was stiff, her limbs aching as if someone had beaten her with a baton.
Long-term undercover caution made her start probing her surroundings before even opening her eyes.
There was no smell of disinfectant, and she wasn’t lying on a hospital bed.
Across from her, someone was chattering incessantly at her, as if accusing her of something.
Accusing a brave anti-narcotics officer who had just been pulled off the front line?
Yu Song was deeply puzzled. She tried to open her eyes, but a piercing white light shot down from above like a sword, burning her eyeballs through her eyelids and making her dizzy.
She wanted to get up and escape from the light source above her head, but realized her left hand and left foot were both cuffed to the chair.
Her heart tightened.
What happened?
Was she being held captive by drug dealers?
How could that be? Didn’t the backup she called already arrive?
No, something’s wrong!
Yu Song rotated her wrist lightly, her mind working at high speed.
This kind of scorching spotlight, plus the cuffs on her left hand and foot, actually felt more like a formal interrogation at the police station.
And now her body was stiff and her mind was dizzy—she must have been sitting here for a long time.
Could it be she was being treated as a traitor and was under interrogation?
That made even less sense.
She had obviously made a huge contribution!
The drug dealer had just received the goods, still had a gun in his hand—a perfect case of catching both the criminal and the evidence.
Even without the bullet fired at her, her Second-Class Merit was already guaranteed.
Yu Song was utterly baffled. She subtly moved her body, quickly confirming she wasn’t injured.
That was even stranger.
She hadn’t been wearing a bulletproof vest, nor did she have some Bollywood hero’s bullet-dodging skills—how could she not have been shot?
Was she dreaming?
Or was the anesthesia from surgery still in effect?
“Gao Song, why are you squirming?
Is your body itchy? Or are you, like your parents, also an addict?”
The person across from her scolded harshly.
Like your parents, also an addict?
Yu Song finally realized the seriousness of the problem.
What the hell?
Her parents—one a teacher, the other a National Enterprise employee—how could they possibly be addicts?
But from the tone, this was definitely a formal police interrogation.
She tried hard to recall, but except for the gunshot during the arrest, everything else was a blur.
But Yu Song remembered that when she first woke up, her right hand was clenched on the table, her left foot impatiently stretching toward the door.
That was a defensive posture, ready to escape.
That meant she was feeling guilty and afraid.
But why would she feel guilty?
The interrogation room door was pushed open, footsteps coming closer, full of oppressive force.
“Gao, avoiding the question won’t help. You said you’ve never been to the Jin Hong Hotel, but the surveillance clearly shows you there.”
Classmate? Jin Hong Hotel?
Yu Song suddenly recalled a novel she had read before.
Her mind buzzed—all over!
Could it be that legendary Book Transmigration had unreasonably happened to her?
No way!
If she had to transmigrate, at least give her a good script—why would she end up in that book? And as the Villain, no less?
That book was a domineering CEO romance disguised as a crime investigation, filled with melodramatic family ethics and trivial domestic squabbles.
It was never Yu Song’s cup of tea; she had only flipped through it out of boredom, waiting to see when the Villain character with the same surname as her would get written off.
That character was named Gao Song, even pronounced like her own name, but she felt not a shred of sympathy.
This Gao Song had a miserable and unspeakable background, a strange and capricious personality, yet thought herself a genius, believing she could become outstanding with just a bit of effort.
When her plans failed, she began to blame the world, ultimately leading to her Crime of Passion.
Simply put, she was the kind of person nobody could bring themselves to care about, yet she was the most hopeless of all.
Yu Song’s review of this character while reading was: “Her ambitions reach the heavens, but her fate is as fragile as paper.”
If only she could face reality, find a proper job, and muddle through, everyone would only pity her.
But instead, she blamed everyone and everything, envied and hated the main couple, targeted and framed them at every turn.
Naturally, her ending was tragic beyond words.
Recalling the novel’s content, Yu Song started to get a headache.
Even if she died in the line of duty, she was still a hero! No matter how unlucky, how could she become the Villain!
Was the heavens off duty?
Or had they dozed off?
With all her righteousness and iron will, she actually ended up transmigrating as a Crime of Passion Villain!
Utterly absurd!
The person sitting across from her impatiently tapped the table with their middle finger, “Gao, don’t think playing dumb will get you through this.
Tell the truth—what were you doing there?
Your fingerprints are on the door and the table.
Do you think denying it will work?”
Yu Song knew this couldn’t go on.
She had to respond—mainly because the lamp above her head was making her so uncomfortable her eyes were about to go blind.
She struggled to recall the book’s plot, and after receiving the original host’s memories, she cleared her throat and said, “What do you want me to say? I saw someone was in danger and immediately called the police, but you arrested me as a murderer? That’s ridiculous. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have meddled.”
That harsh voice barked back, “Still lying? You’re a sophomore in college. Why weren’t you in class? Why were you at a five-star hotel?”
Yu Song sighed. She couldn’t possibly say she went because she got a call from the murderer.
“Officer, what are you implying? Why can’t a sophomore go to a five-star hotel? Maybe I was looking for a job, trying to earn some money, or maybe I just wanted to see the world. Maybe I just needed to use the bathroom.”
Gu Zhiye sat at the interrogation table, staring suspiciously at the girl across from him. How did she suddenly become so lively?
Was she plotting a way out? Or just giving up and going all out?
“Why give three possibilities? Don’t you know why you went to the Jin Hong Hotel?”
Yu Song remembered that the original host hadn’t asked about jobs, hadn’t gone to the front desk, hadn’t logged into the internet, so she simply said, “To see the world. I’m just a small-town kid who’s never been in a five-star hotel. I went in out of curiosity—what’s wrong with that?”
“Fine, let’s say you went to see the world. How did you so accurately end up in the room where the murder happened? Also, you could see the blood from the doorway—why did you still go in? There were even signs of someone searching the room. Gao Song, what were you looking for?”
Now that was hard to explain. Yu Song frowned, “Can you turn off that damn lamp first? My brain’s about to be roasted!”
Gu Zhiye tugged at the corner of his mouth, holding back a smile. “Answer my question first.”
“What’s there to answer? I already told you—I went in to see the world. I saw room 712’s door open and went in to take a look. That stuff on the floor—was that blood? I thought someone spilled their champagne.”
“Gao Song, are you making up lies on the spot? Since when is champagne red?”
Yu Song shrugged, innocent. “I’ve never seen it, never drank it. I thought it was the same color as red wine or something. Anyway, I was just curious and took a look around. I didn’t search for anything—I’m not a thief.”
She deliberately said the last sentence in a guilty tone, her voice even dropping two notches.
Gu Zhiye didn’t fall for it, but the other interrogator, Liu Jingjia, was intrigued.
He quickly scribbled “Thief casing the room, trying to blend in” on his notepad and showed it to Gu Zhiye.
Gu Zhiye frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head.
Some thieves did sneak into hotels, stealing guests’ luggage or electronics while they checked in or out.
Gao Song running up to the seventh floor, entering a room and searching around, did seem like a thief’s behavior.
But she had no theft record—instead, she’d been brought in a few times for fighting. And she’d just reported her Grandparent, earning a reward from the City Bureau, so she shouldn’t be short on money right now.
Yu Song decided to use this point. “Comrade Officer, maybe you don’t know, but I recently turned in my Grandparent for the greater good and sent him to prison. The City Bureau gave me a certificate, still in my dorm, and I haven’t even spent the reward money yet. Why would I kill someone in a hotel?”
Liu Jingjia followed his train of thought and asked, “Then why did you go in? Most people would have run away at the sight—why did you search the room?”
Yu Song shrank back, putting on a wronged and guilty look, protesting: “I already said I didn’t search! I saw the door open and wanted to use the bathroom, maybe check out what fancy stuff was in such an expensive room. Then I saw a corpse as soon as I went in—my legs went weak and I fell to the floor, only getting up by holding onto a side table. Then I ran out in fright and called the police with my own phone.”
Next, Gu Zhiye and Liu Jingjia repeatedly questioned Yu Song about how she entered the room, fell, and ran out to call the police, going over every detail, but found nothing suspicious.
Finally, Gu Zhiye asked, “Gao Song, did you know the deceased?”
Yu Song blinked, “Of course. Don’t you? Isn’t that the city’s famous entrepreneur, Zhou Yaohui?”
“I mean, did you ever interact with him before?”
Yu Song shook her head frankly, “No. He’s a big boss. How would someone like me know him?”
The two paused the interrogation and left the room.
Hearing the door, Yu Song immediately started yelling, “Turn off that damn lamp! Are you trying to torture a confession out of me?!”
In the surveillance room, Gu Zhiye watched the screen as Yu Song covered her face on the table, still crying and shouting, and asked Liu Jingjia, “What do you think?”
“The fatal wound was to the chest—a single stab, and after the knife went in, the killer struck the handle hard. Judging by the technique, the killer probably wasn’t a first-timer—maybe they’d killed large animals or done murder simulations before.”
As Liu Jingjia spoke, he mimed picking up a knife and striking the handle, then continued, “The killer chose to attack head-on, so they must have been confident they could handle the victim alone. Most importantly, besides the victim’s and Gao Song’s footprints, there was a third set—size forty-three, big feet, probably a man.”
Gu Zhiye kept his eyes on the screen, observing Yu Song’s subtle movements.
Her hand was picking at her nails under the table, her long legs stretched out, her left foot tapping the table leg rhythmically.
She didn’t look like someone in an interrogation room, but rather a student daydreaming in class—completely at ease.
It seemed her earlier fear and anxiety were all an act.
This girl was calculating and quick-witted.
Seeing Gu Zhiye didn’t object, Liu Jingjia continued, “Based on all the evidence collected so far, the killer should be male, between 1.7 and 1.85 meters tall. Surveillance shows two maintenance workers entered room 712—the killer is likely one of them.”
He glanced at the monitor, “Captain Gu, this girl probably just saw the door open, went in to steal something, and stumbled on a corpse—pretty unlucky.”
Gu Zhiye recalled the files he’d read and sighed, “She really is unlucky.”