Chapter 222: I Know

The alibi witness collapsed, the alibi evidence became invalid, and Bai Yuequn could no longer hold out.

Like the criminals Jiang Yuan had encountered before, sophisticated offenders are almost always sophisticated self-seekers.

If they could escape punishment, they could indeed endure interrogation.

But once trial became inevitable, their attitude changed completely.

"If I confess, does that count as turning myself in?" Bai Yuequn, looking drained, stared at Lei Xin across the table.

"Whether it counts as turning yourself in isn't up to me—it's for the prosecutor and court to decide. But if you confess truthfully, I can speak well of you. Confess openly, and you'll get leniency."

Lei Xin tapped his yellowish fingers on the desk, unable to resist the urge to smoke.

Bai Yuequn stared at Lei Xin's yellow teeth and yellow hands for a long time. In the past, someone as refined as him wouldn't have even glanced at a middle-aged chain-smoker like Lei Xin—but now he could only sigh and say, "I believe you. I'll talk."

He was exhausted—tired, drowsy, anxious, remorseful.

To carry out the murder plan, he first dragged his boyfriend through a exhausting session until the boy was half-asleep, then lured him to the cinema under the pretense of romance.

Bai Yuequn knew his new boyfriend well: young, impulsive, bursting with hormones, and a heavy sleeper—once the excitement faded, he'd drop off instantly, something enviable.

Bai Yuequn couldn't sleep so easily; even in his dreams, he recalled Yuan Yutang's false affection and pretended tenderness. His desire to kill had persisted from the start of the year to its end.

He loved him. He hated him.

Theater No. 2 was the hottest, worst-ventilated screening room in the cinema. And the seats were so comfortable that if you ate a full meal before watching, you'd easily fall asleep.

Add a dull, lengthy art film, and honestly, many viewers were already asleep by the opening credits—just like Xu Yi.

But Bai Yuequn couldn't sleep—he had to head straight to Yuan Yutang's apartment. To avoid detection and conserve energy, he rode a shared bicycle there (thankfully, no police stopped him, damn it).

He picked the lock, crept upstairs quietly—using every ounce of strength he had for murder and vengeance.

He pushed with as much force as he had when they were together.

But he couldn't relax yet. He had to focus, inspect everything, and thoroughly clean his full-body waterproof suit—besides fencing, Bai Yuequn loved diving, so when he thought of murder, his first thought was this full-body suit resembling a wetsuit.

As long as his head was covered and the suit remained intact, bloodstains could be washed off with water easily, leaving minimal residue, and neither his leather shoes nor his hair would be left behind.

The only downside was having to change clothes again and wear them outside—slightly inconvenient.

After finishing these tasks, Bai Yuequn had to ride back to the cinema, enter through the staff entrance using the spare key, and sit beside his boyfriend.

As soon as the movie ended, he rushed to the hotel, stripped off every article of clothing, and soaked them in laundry detergent.

Honestly, by the final step, Bai Yuequn was barely holding on—but the bizarre scene of murder itself kept him going, even giving him a strange thrill.

"Where are the bloodstained clothes and the weapon?"

The most important thing was to locate the evidence, Lei Xin pressed.

Bai Yuequn, weakly, said: "Still at the hotel—inside the ceiling of the laundry room."

The hotel they checked into offered self-service laundry, with a dedicated laundry room—cheap, but rarely used except during holidays when vacationers flooded in.

Still, hiding something temporarily there wasn't hard, and the police would struggle to find it.

What's truly difficult for criminals eliminating traces isn't hiding things—it's pursuing permanent, perfect erasure.

Achieving permanent, perfect elimination of anything is extremely hard. The corpse, the weapon, the bloodstained clothes—all equally difficult.

According to the theory of material exchange, the higher your demands, the more material exchange occurs, the more flaws emerge—and that makes concealment harder.

Switching to temporary concealment or imperfect elimination makes things far simpler.

That's why crimes committed impulsively, on a whim, are harder to solve.

Of course, this "hard to solve" is probabilistic—but under threat of the death penalty, very few people are willing to gamble on a 5% or 10% chance.

Bai Yuequn intended to deal with the bloodstained clothes and weapon later, so he just hid them casually in the hotel, saving massive criminal costs.

For the police to find them would require enormous manpower and resources.

Bai Yuequn spent only twenty minutes.

He also used the laundry room cleaner to soak the clothes and weapon, trying to destroy biological evidence. It helped a little—but not much.

After Lei Xin clarified these key points, Bai Yuequn was effectively pinned.

The so-called alibi evidence, or the "clever" mismatch of small feet in big shoes, now meant nothing.

Bai Yuequn's face gradually flooded with tears as he recounted his story with Yuan Yutang.

A rich heir and a middle-class boy—nothing new, always the same, even in a male-male version.

After confirming and signing off on the main facts of the crime, Lei Xin remembered Jiang Yuan's request before entering, checked his notebook, and asked:

"Why did you choose this moment to kill?"

This was a question tied to motive. Lei Xin assumed there must have been some trigger, the final spark.

Unexpectedly, Bai Yuequn gave a bitter smile: "Someone sent me photos. When I saw them, I couldn't take it anymore."

The trigger had indeed been pulled—but the reason left Lei Xin stunned.

Lei Xin immediately asked: "What photos?"

"Photos of Yuan Yutang celebrating someone else's birthday, and photos of him being tied up at night." Bai Yuequn, weary, said: "I once asked him to celebrate my birthday. He told me these were Western trash, not worth promoting, just a tax on stupidity, blah blah…"

Lei Xin's scalp prickled: "Just for that?"

"Something like that."

"Where are the photos?"

"Burned them."

"Burned them? Why?"

"They asked me to." Bai Yuequn said calmly: "The letter included a WeChat ID, telling me to add them. After I did, they asked how I felt. I told them. They said they could give me updates on Yuan Yutang—but only if I did a live video call and burned the photos and note on camera. So I burned them."

Lei Xin studied Bai Yuequn's expression, feigned regret, and said: "That's a shame—you could've qualified for meritorious service. Or if you could identify the person behind this, claim you were manipulated into killing, you might get a reduced sentence."

Bai Yuequn's expression changed instantly. He'd gone through so much, felt anger, even believed he hadn't done anything wrong, didn't deserve punishment.

After blowing his nose hard, he opened his eyes and asked: "What about now? Can I still get a reduced sentence?"

"You need evidence."

"I have WeChat evidence—I added them."

"WeChat messages between two people mean nothing if you don't know who the other person is."

"I took photos. Photos of the photos." Bai Yuequn sat up straight: "Before contacting them, I used a camera that can't connect to the internet. The photos inside can't be seen by hackers—only I can unlock them with my password."

Lei Xin: …

He immediately asked where the camera was stored and sent someone to retrieve it.

Then Lei Xin softened his tone: "You really are something—someone tells you to kill, you kill. Tells you to burn evidence, you burn it. Never think about their motives or origins? Don't you fear being sold out? Being threatened forever?"

"I'm not afraid—they're more afraid." Bai Yuequn sat calmly.

Lei Xin froze: "You know who it is?"

"Who else? Yuan's eldest brother, or Yuan's second brother. That's all." Bai Yuequn's eyes were bloodshot, yet now he calmly played with his fingernails, as if he'd seen through everything.