Chapter 58: Masterful Acting

Chapter 58: Masterful Acting

In the eerie and mysterious castle, a terrified scream shattered the silence. The Lord Count, owner of the castle, had met a violent death in the dead of night, unknown to anyone, leaving six suspects entangled in a web of complex relationships.

Now, the six suspects gathered at the crime scene. They would search for numerous clues through on-site investigation to uncover the real murderer.

At this moment, the Lord Count lay stiffly in a pool of blood. According to the coroner's report, he had died around midnight the previous night.

The room was in disarray—a chair toppled over, books scattered across the desk, and shattered vase fragments littered the floor.

Clearly, the Lord Count must have had a fierce argument with someone before his death, and the commotion had been quite violent.

The suspects knelt around the body, conducting a thorough examination. The most obvious clue was the kitchen knife embedded in the Lord Count's chest.

"This is the fruit knife from the living room yesterday," Chu Yan remarked.

Since the knife had been in the living room, anyone could have taken it—meaning no one present could be ruled out as a suspect.

"There's blood here," Zhou Yun pointed to the back of the Lord Count's head, where a large patch of dried blood stained his hair. It was unclear whether it was from a blow or from hitting something.

As they discussed, Lu Zhaoyang pointed to a corner of the nearby bookshelf, where bloodstains were clearly visible.

It was reasonable to suspect that the Lord Count had collided with the bookshelf during a struggle with the murderer, resulting in the wound on the back of his head.

"Look at Father's lips—they're blackened. This is clearly poisoning," Fu Zeyu declared, pointing at the Lord Count's darkened lips.

From this, it could be inferred that the Lord Count might have died from the blow to his head, the stab wound to his chest, or poisoning.

However, it was impossible to determine whether these injuries were inflicted by one person or multiple assailants, nor could the exact fatal wound be identified.

At this moment, Fu Zeyu suddenly turned to Xu Meng and coldly accused, "As Father's wife, why weren't you in his room last night?"

A flicker of panic flashed in Xu Meng's eyes, but she quickly sneered in response.

"The Lord Count spent all his time carousing with his mistress. I've been left to sleep alone for days—when would I have had the chance to sleep in his room?"

As she spoke, Xu Meng shot a disdainful glare at Lu Zhaoyang, clearly shifting the blame onto him.

But Lu Zhaoyang didn’t shy away. Instead, he smirked and turned the tables on her.

"'Left alone in an empty room'? What a joke, Madam," Lu Zhaoyang mocked. "Last night, I saw the Butler enter your room."

Oho, the scent of an affair.

Everyone turned their eyes to Li Wenzhang and Xu Meng, while the live-stream audience's eyes gleamed with excitement—this was the scent of scandal.

Li Wenzhang's face was a picture of panic at being exposed, but Xu Meng, after her initial shock, seemed almost relieved to let the truth out, throwing caution to the wind.

"What nonsense are you spouting, Mr. Lu?" the Butler protested, unwilling to admit it.

But Countess Xu Meng defiantly lifted her chin and confessed.

"Hah! So what if I went to the Butler's room? If the Lord Count can have a string of lovers, why can't I?"

Hatred twisted Xu Meng's expression—directed squarely at the Lord Count.

"Especially you," she spat, pointing at Lu Zhaoyang. "What are you? A common paramour who dares to flaunt yourself in front of me, a mere plaything who looks down on me? Who gave you the courage?"

"Oh, right—the Lord Count did."

"Hahaha! So yes, I seduced the Butler! I wanted to cheat on him! Hahaha~ He had it coming!"

"Madam! Stop talking—"

The Butler tried to intervene, but it was futile. Countess Xu Meng had clearly lost her mind, driven mad by the revolting reality. Her eyes burned with reckless madness and vindication.

She shoved the cowering Li Wenzhang aside.

"Get lost, useless man!"

"Intense!"

"Queen Xu Meng's acting is masterful! Look at the other guests—their shocked faces are hilarious!"

...

After the scandalous revelation, Fu Zeyu exploded in anger, pointing accusingly at the deranged Xu Meng.

"You madwoman! You dared to cheat on Father with the Butler? How could you?"

"Was it you who killed Father?"

It was a reasonable assumption—Countess Xu Meng, unable to bear the Lord Count's humiliation, might have sought revenge through murder.

But Xu Meng only scoffed.

"Don’t make baseless accusations, Young Master. Your father was no angel either. Weren’t you the one who wanted him dead? Who are you putting on this show of filial piety for now?"

"Here we go! The melodramatic turn is back!"

The other guests all turned to Fu Zeyu, their eager eyes practically begging him to share his tale.

Fu Zeyu did not disappoint. Glaring at the Lord Count's corpse, he spat out years of pent-up fury and hatred.

"I did hate him. My mother was a noble princess before marrying him—kind, full of life, and pure. But after wedding this bastard, she was deceived and neglected over and over. She watched as a parade of lovers appeared by his side. She went from heartbroken to numb, until she wasted away in despair!"

"Shouldn’t I hate him?"

"My mother died because of him, yet this so-called father of mine showed no remorse. He couldn’t even wait for her to be buried before remarrying, and then he flaunted his disgusting lovers in front of her grave! He deserved to die!"

Fu Zeyu's eyes flashed with anger, his performance of years of suppressed rage utterly convincing.

The live-stream audience was stunned. Clearly, the dissolute young master had been hiding his talent—his acting skills had been vastly underestimated.

"I did want him dead, but he was still my father. As his heir, I had no reason to kill him, did I?"

"You did," Countess Xu Meng countered. "You didn’t just hate him for killing your mother—you resented him for showing favoritism to the Young Master!"

All eyes turned to Young Master Zhou Yun, while Fu Zeyu’s expression darkened.

"From what I know, though you’re the eldest son and heir, the Lord Count’s favorite was always the Young Master. From the moment he was born, the Lord Count spoiled him rotten, giving him everything he wanted. As for you, Young Master, the Lord Count never gave you a second thought. Your status in this castle was even lower than that of a floor-scrubbing servant."

"The young master took everything that rightfully belonged to the eldest young master. Not only that, after the eldest young master's mother died, the Count wed the young master's mother herself."

"Eldest Young Master," Xu Meng sneered, "You can't possibly believe Count will pass the title to you?"

In other words, to inherit the title, the eldest young master had every reason to kill the Count.

The vain peacock Zhou Yun shot Fu Zeyu a resentful, smug glare.

"Elder Brother has always been jealous of me since childhood, couldn't tolerate me."

The steward interjected:

"What Madam Xu said is true. Count did indeed intend to pass the title to the young master."

Whether it was avenging his mother or the struggle for the title, both were enough to drive the eldest young master to murder the Count.

"If it were just for the title, I could've simply killed my brother," Fu Zeyu said. "Killing this good-for-nothing would leave the title to me alone, and Andra Castle would have no choice but to pass to me."

"Why would I cross that line to kill my own father?"

Zhou Yun, the spoiled brat, snorted.

"Who's to say you didn't argue with Father over his favoritism toward me and accidentally killed him?"

It was a plausible argument, but Fu Zeyu merely scoffed disdainfully.

"If we're talking about accidental killings, I'd say you're the most likely culprit, little brother!"

A flicker of panic crossed Zhou Yun's face. His character was a spoiled heir, lacking cunning but indulged in everything due to his father's favor.

"You're lying! You're framing me out of jealousy!"

"Ha!" Fu Zeyu sneered. "*Do* you really think I don't know?"

"Know what?"

The viewers wondered too.

Fu Zeyu suddenly turned to Chu Yan with a smile.

"You like Xiao Yan, and he—he's engaged to me, my fiancé."

A collective gasp—

The moment those words were spoken, all eyes turned to Chu Yan.

And Chu Yan—he'd stood silently in the corner all along, a frail yet ethereally beautiful young man who seemed accustomed to being overlooked in the shadows. Yet his beauty made him impossible to ignore. Now, under the weight of their stares, all he showed in those exquisite eyes was a trace of surprise and alarm.

"I don't care, he's innocent!"

"If two brothers fall for the same person, how is that his fault? He did nothing wrong—I'd be smitten too!"

Chu Yan stood there helplessly, fingers twisting his clothes tightly, nervous and innocent.

"What could such an adorable sweetheart possibly have done wrong?"

"Exactly, exactly!"

Andra Yun hadn't expected his feelings to be exposed so bluntly. He wanted to deny it, but when he met Chu Yan's innocent, pure gaze, he suddenly squared his shoulders and refused to back down.

"I do like him. Not only do I like him, I want to marry him. Elder Brother, you don't deserve him!"

"He deserves the world's finest. Besides, he's not even your fiancé yet—the engagement isn't official. I have every right to pursue him!"

Whoa, this showdown!

Fans immediately chimed in:

"This is good, I love it!"

"I'm trash for this drama!"

"Sibling rivalry at its finest!"

...

Fu Zeyu lunged over and grabbed Zhou Yun by the collar. Zhou Yun was already shorter, and the force was so strong that Chu Yan suspected Fu Zeyu was taking out some personal grudges in that grip.

Fu Zeyu, deep in character, bellowed furiously:

"How am I unworthy of him? I may be unworthy, but what does that make you, this good-for-nothing?"

He was definitely doing it on purpose—he spat in Zhou Yun's face. Zhou Yun, in a comedic move, wiped his face and dramatically shook his hand, instantly turning the tense battlefield into a farce. The stream erupted in laughter.

The spoiled younger brother, who usually feared his brooding elder brother, now stood tall for the sake of love.

"Father never liked you. He left the castle to me. Once I inherit the title, you'll have nothing, Elder Brother. How could you possibly deserve him? You don't even have the means to protect him!"

"But I do. I love him, and I'll give him the best this world has to offer. I have wealth and status, while you'll only condemn him to poverty and misery."

Zhou Yun lifted his chin proudly.

That was a low blow. The eldest young master's eyes burned red with rage—but his anger only proved the younger master's point.

Yet Fu Zeyu quickly regained his composure. Compared to his useless brother, he was far sharper and calmer.

"So what? Father chose me to be engaged to him, not you—his spoiled favorite!"

Another cutting remark.

Zhou Yun trembled with fury. "Father would never do that to me!"

"If I begged him, with all his love for me, he'd surely give Xiao Yan to me!"

"So you went to Father last night," Fu Zeyu's voice suddenly turned icy, his presence domineering. "You were unhappy that Father arranged Xiao Yan's engagement to me. You wanted him to change it to you—but Father refused."

"Used to being spoiled, this was the first time you were denied. You flew into a rage and had a huge fight with Father."

"You argued with him. You pushed him!"

"Father hit his head on the bookshelf. He bled heavily and collapsed. You were terrified he'd wake up and punish you, so you decided to finish the job—grabbing a fruit knife from the parlor and plunging the knife into his chest."

"So it was you—you killed Father!"

Fu Zeyu's voice was razor-sharp. Even the live audience, separated by screens, was stunned into silence. The chat fell silent.

Zhou Yun reacted swiftly, seamlessly picking up the thread.

His face went ghostly pale as he staggered back, swaying unsteadily.

He panicked and started rambling uncontrollably.

"No, no, I didn’t kill Father! It wasn’t me! I just accidentally pushed him!"

"I didn’t think Father would hit the bookshelf. It wasn’t intentional! I didn’t kill him, it wasn’t me..."

Zhou Yun desperately denied it but inadvertently revealed the truth about the injury on Lord Count’s head.

It was confirmed: the wound on the back of the head was inflicted by the young master.

Zhou Yun's face twisted in panic, his eyes darting nervously toward his beloved. "It wasn’t me, really, it wasn’t! Xiao Yan, please believe me..."

Then, as if remembering something, he angrily pointed at Lu Zhaoyang.

"It was him!"

"Last night around nine, I came to the living room for water and saw him carrying medicine into Father’s room!"

Everyone turned to Lu Zhaoyang. Lord Count’s lips were cyanotic, proving he had been poisoned.

But Lu Zhaoyang stayed calm.

"Lord Count had high blood pressure and needed to take medicine every night after dinner. Everyone here knows that—except Young Master Chu Yan, of course, since he's an outsider. And I was the one who delivered his medicine every night."

"That's completely normal. It doesn't prove I was the one who poisoned him."

"Anyone who knew Lord Count needed his medicine could have been the poisoner."

Lu Zhaoyang’s alibi was airtight, but then the steward stepped forward.

"Yet after you entered, I heard you arguing with Lord Count from outside the door, along with the sound of a vase shattering."

A muscle in Lu Zhaoyang's jaw twitched, and everyone's suspicious looks grew stronger. But he remained silent, as if unwilling to explain.

The mystery only deepened.