Chapter 11

"Gilded Dance Shoes 3," the murderer in the ballet.

"Teach me to dance?" Mofei scratched his head, "No need, I guess. I'll probably never use that skill in my lifetime."

Ang'ge'er shook his head, "Actually, you might need it tonight."

"Huh?" Mofei was confused.

Ang'ge'er stood up and said, "Tonight's ballet is the last performance in S city. Rumor has it there will be a celebration party afterwards, and I've asked Os to get us in."

"We..." Mofei stood there awkwardly. He had previously worked as a waiter serving drinks at a dance, but a ball...

"Sneaking in is just for the investigation, right?" Mofei asked, "Why do we need to dance?"

Ang'ge'er stroked his chin, pondering, "You make a fair point. However, in life, it's inevitable to learn some skills that may never be used, but as they say, better safe than sorry."

Mofei felt the topic was drifting and asked, "By the way, what's your take on this strange case?"

Ang'ge'er nodded, "Yes, I have some theories, but we still need to look for the murderer tonight."

"Look for them tonight?" Mofei asked curiously, "Are you sure the murderer will appear tonight?"

Ang'ge'er stood up, sizing up Mofei while absentmindedly replying, "Yes, he'll be there."

"Why?" Mofei wondered, "Could it be some obsessed fan or someone else?"

Ang'ge'er shook his head, "Nothing happens without reason in this world, not even the wind blowing or the rain falling. So why would someone go to great lengths to kill a person?"

"But why would a normal person create such photos?" Mofei was puzzled.

"Every action of a murderer serves one purpose—concealment," Ang'ge'er gently lifted Mofei's hand, speaking deliberately, "The more elaborate the cover-up, the more meticulous their preparation. This dance troupe is transient; anyone who could orchestrate this must be familiar with her and frequently in her company."

"Uh..." Mofei stood frozen as Ang'ge'er positioned his upper body for dancing, unsure of which leg to move.

Ang'ge'er looked up at Mofei, "You seem quite tense?"

Mofei, with a bitter smile, looked at Ang'ge'er, "It seems so."

Ang'ge'er pondered again, muttering to himself, "Are you the type who gets nervous about unfamiliar things? I always thought you were someone with strong survival and comprehension skills."

Mofei touched his nose, "Dancing isn't really my forte or interest. I'm better at playing sports."

Ang'ge'er circled Mofei twice, studying him like an intriguing creature, while observing, "You really are a contradictory person."

"Contradictory how?" Mofei flexed his stiff wrists.

"Your actions seem to be controlled by emotions or external circumstances," Ang'ge'er mused, sitting back on the sofa, "What a pity. I wanted to share with you the dance techniques my grandmother taught me."

"What techniques?" Mofei asked curiously.

Ang'ge'er tapped his chin with the photo in his hand, murmuring, "She was a wise woman. In her view, neither men nor women need to master the steps; just remember one thing to dance well."

"What is it?" Mofei grew even more curious.

"The music and your dance partner are more important than precise steps, much like how mood and friends are more important than most of life's rules." Ang'ge'er finished speaking and picked up a tin-etched box from a metal stand, opening it to reveal a yellowed old photograph, which he handed to Mofei, "This is my grandmother. My parents passed away early, and she raised me."

Mofei took the photo and saw a woman in her twenties, very young and beautiful... Ang'ge'er had inherited his grandmother's beauty well. Mofei suddenly thought, if Ang'ge'er were a woman, he would be incredibly beautiful. Of course, as a man, he was already quite handsome.

Mofei placed the photo back in the tin-etched box and reached out to touch Ang'ge'er's forehead, asking, "Is the fever gone? Do you feel unwell anywhere else?"

Ang'ge'er shook his head, "No, I've recovered quite well this time, thanks to you. You're very capable."

"Ang'ge'er," Mofei sat beside the bed and asked, "Why do you trust me so much? Is it because of my deduction skills?"

Ang'ge'er lifted his head to look at Mofei, "There are many things in this world more reliable than deduction."

Mofei seemed somewhat puzzled.

Angler noticed the confusion on his face and said, "All reasoning comes from a premise. The premise for hiring you is my trust in you. In other words, everything between us is based on the premise of my trust. If I didn't trust you, none of this would exist. From another perspective, since all this does exist, I must trust you. Don't you think so?"

Mo Fei was somewhat baffled by Angler's words and took a while before responding, "That seems like the most reasonable yet unreasonable thing I've ever heard."

Angler looked at the ceiling, pondered for a moment, and nodded, "So, reasoning isn't always reliable, and feelings aren't always wrong."

Mo Fei stood up, the gramophone nearby still playing. Though it was an old record, the long-unseen old items often felt fresher than the constantly seen new ones. Mo Fei reached out to pull Angler, "Teach me, it might come in handy someday, right?"

Angler put down the photograph, nodded, and stood up, taking Mo Fei's hand.

After the rain, the afternoon sun shone through the glass windows, casting light on the spinning gramophone. A bright spot reflected on the wall, the shadows dancing intermittently, accompanied by the rhythm of an old song. It was like an old, elegant movie, comfortably projected in a warm-toned room, quiet yet filled with memories.

……

During dinner, a young police officer brought Angler two tickets to that night's ballet, with a message from Oswald. Oswald wasn't interested in ballet and suggested Angler and Mo Fei go first. He would join them at the celebration party after the performance, hoping to catch the culprit by then.

"We're going to the ballet?" Mo Fei asked while holding his bowl, "I've never seen a ballet before."

Angler nodded, "Neither have I."

"You haven't?" Mo Fei exclaimed in surprise, "I thought you were the type who likes ballet, symphonies, or operas."

Angler quietly finished the food in his mouth and then gently shook his head, "I'm not particularly fond of such aesthetically rigid forms."

"What do you mean by that?" Mo Fei asked as he continued to eat.

Angler pondered, "Everyone's aesthetic is different. For instance, a ballet of Romeo and Juliet might be staged, but the actors' appearances could be far from how I envision Romeo and Juliet. If I were to watch it, I'd have to suppress my own aesthetic preferences to accommodate the director's vision, which is difficult for me. I'd rather have Romeo and Juliet as mere silhouettes on a blank page, allowing me to imagine their appearances based on my own aesthetic, complemented by the plot... That's more acceptable to me."

Mo Fei listened and chuckled, nodding, "I get it now. You probably don't like ballet because you think the dancers in skirts don't resemble swans."

Angler nodded earnestly, "Mo Fei, you're quite intelligent and have a strong ability to learn, because you can think from others' perspectives."

Mo Fei barely held back from spitting out his food, finding Angler's thoughts rebelliously unconventional.

After dinner, the two headed out to the S City Grand Theater to watch the ballet "The Gilded Dance Shoes."

Despite the enthusiastic audience, Mo Fei felt sleepy through the two-hour ballet. Maybe football and basketball were more his thing?

Turning his head, Mo Fei noticed Angler’s expressionless face, simply staring at the performers energetically dancing on stage.

Finally, the performance ended, and all the audience stood up, applauding for the actors and crew who came out for the curtain call.

Mo Fei and Angler also stood up. Mo Fei saw Angler scanning the people on stage, a look of realization crossing his face. Although Mo Fei hadn’t been living with Angler for long, he could tell... Angler might already know who the culprit was. Even though Mo Fei was clueless, he absolutely believed in Angler's almost mystical abilities.

After the show, Angler didn't rush to leave but sat in his seat, waiting.

Once the audience had left, Angler stood up and walked onto the stage, looking down at its smooth red wooden floor.

"Hey!" Suddenly, a voice called out from a room above the stage with glass walls, "The show's over!"

Mo Fei turned his head and saw the stage lighting technician standing there.

"Audience members are not allowed on stage," the technician said, "Be careful, you might get fined for this!"

Angler looked up at him, then gestured to Mo Fei and headed towards the back of the stage.

Mo Fei, unsure of what Angler was planning, followed him and saw Angler approaching the stage scenery, touching the fabric and examining it from all angles.

While Mo Fei waited, a prop master came to tidy up the set. Seeing Angler, he paused, then warned, "Hey! Don't touch that. We need it for the next performance. I'll be in trouble if it gets damaged."

Angler glanced at him and then walked towards the backstage.

"Hey!" The prop master quickly stepped forward to block Angler, "Who are you? Only staff and performers are allowed back here."

Angler sized him up and then pulled out his ID to show him, "I'm with the police."

"Oh..." The prop master nodded, "You're here to investigate Anna's death, right? The director and others are in the back." He said this and went backstage, carrying a scenic panel.

Angler and Mo Fei followed. Inside, the prop master gestured to a balding man, saying, "Director, the police are here."

As soon as he finished speaking, several people nearby, including the director, scriptwriter, crew, and actors, looked up at Mo Fei and Angler. Curious, someone asked, "Has Anna's killer been caught?"

Angler scanned the room, shook his head, and said, "Continue with your work, I'm just looking around."

Mo Fei, curious, leaned in to ask Angler, "What's going on?"

Angler smiled faintly and told him, "I know who the killer is."