Chapter 18

The three of them entered the RV and saw the small table covered with takeout boxes, steaming coffee, and a variety show playing on the car’s display screen.

If they couldn’t figure out what was going on here, they might as well quit their jobs.

The excuse about the artist being unwell and resting after taking medicine was clearly just a pretext — Zhou Canran simply didn’t want to meet them and had deliberately kept them waiting.

Noticing their eyes on the table, Zhou Canran showed no embarrassment at being caught.

“Please, sit down. Xiao Yang, why aren’t you serving our guests water? No sense of awareness at all,” Zhou Canran said, deliberately raising his voice.

Moments later, the assistant hurried over with three cups of hot water.

Jiang Xuzhou and Ruan Mingxi exchanged a glance, silently noting Zhou Canran and his assistant’s little performance.

Zhou kept talking politely, his face smiling, but the smile never reached his eyes — clearly forced.

“Alright, let’s skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point,” Ruan Mingxi cut off the insincere apologies. “Do you know Wen Yang?”

At the mention of Wen Yang’s name, Zhou Canran hadn’t expected that to be the reason they came. “I know him — just a small streamer.”

Since the online disputes involving his fans and Wen Yang could easily be found with a search, denying it would be useless. It was better to admit it openly.

“What happened between you and him?” Ruan Mingxi asked directly.

Zhou Canran gave a short laugh. “What could possibly happen? Just what’s been said online. I matched with him in a game, thought he played well, and wanted him to join my team. He refused. That’s all.”

As he spoke, Zhou kept smiling, but his body language betrayed him — constant small movements and an unconscious shrugging of his shoulders.

“After he refused your invitation, did anything else happen?” Ruan Mingxi pressed, locking eyes with him.

Zhou raised his brows slightly. “What could I do? If he doesn’t want to, then fine. There are plenty of good players. I don’t need to waste time on just one person.”

His tone was so natural and confident that, if it wasn’t the truth, his acting skills could win him an award.

“Then what about the claims online — that after he refused, you allowed your fans to harass his livestream until he had to stop broadcasting?” Ruan Mingxi asked.

Zhou Canran reacted with a look as if he’d just heard a ridiculous joke. “Officer, I don’t have time to target some small streamer. If I had that kind of free time, I’d rather run more promotions — that brings in money faster. Why would I bother with something so thankless?”

“And what about the reports that you placed bounties in the game, sending players to hunt Wen Yang’s account?”

In his testimony the previous night, Wen Yang had repeatedly insisted that Zhou Canran arranged for people to snipe him in-game, preventing him from playing normally.

But when Zhou heard this, he burst out laughing. “That loser actually called the police over something like that? And that’s why you came to me?”

His laughter reddened his face, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.

As they spoke, Jiang Xuzhou kept watching Zhou Canran’s expression.

The disdain in Zhou’s eyes, and the slight lift of his brows when Wen Yang’s name was mentioned, showed that he truly didn’t care about Wen Yang.

“I may have money, but not to the point where it burns a hole in my pocket. If I schemed against him so deliberately, what would I gain? And if reporters found out, they’d twist it and smear me.”

Zhou Canran smiled at Jiang Xuzhou. “Entertainment reporters are terrifying. Young General Jiang, you should know that well.”

“Sometimes the tiniest trivial matter gets blown out of proportion. They don’t care about truth or lies. For the sake of clicks, they’ll exaggerate anything. If you really do something, one mouthful of spit from each person could drown you.”

Jiang Xuzhou raised his brows slightly, surprised that Zhou suddenly shifted the topic toward him.

Officer Ren Xian, busy taking notes, glanced at Jiang with curiosity.

Ruan Mingxi cleared his throat. “If you didn’t do it, why didn’t you clarify?”

Zhou leaned back, speaking with indifference: “Explanations don’t convince anyone. The audience only wants to hear what they want to hear. They don’t care about the facts.”

At first, when scandals broke out, Zhou tried to explain. But when he realized it was useless, he gave up. Over the years, his so‑called reputation had already collapsed into ruins.

“Was it you who leaked Wen Yang’s personal information online?”

Although Zhou Canran kept insisting he hadn’t deliberately targeted Wen Yang, the investigators couldn’t skip the question.

Zhou Canran replied: “No.”

Then, suddenly, he seemed to recall something. “That kid seems to have someone backing him.”

“What do you mean?”

His words immediately changed the expressions on their faces.

“Two months ago, when Wen Yang kept losing games and was forced to stop streaming, the rumors grew louder. Eventually, his personal information was exposed. My agent noticed things were getting out of hand and came to ask me about it.”

As he spoke, Zhou Canran’s gaze shifted to Jiang Xuzhou, as if his eyes were saying: “I’m giving Young Master Jiang some face here.”

Jiang immediately understood, but chose not to react much.

“At that time, I realized something was wrong. Leaking personal information is illegal. I can take the blame for other things, but I won’t do anything against the law.”

Since Jiang Xuzhou didn’t respond, Zhou showed no displeasure. Instead, he turned back to Ruan Mingxi to make his position clear.

“After Wen Yang’s information was exposed, I hired someone to investigate and tried to have it taken down,” Zhou explained. “The hacker I hired discovered that the IP address which leaked Wen Yang’s information was the same as the one that hacked the trending search site to remove it. The location was overseas.”

Jiang Xuzhou’s brow furrowed — the situation seemed to be getting more complicated.

“First they post the information, then they retract it. Either they got scared and pulled it back themselves, or they had some other purpose.”

Zhou continued: “The person I hired tried to trace that IP further, but the other side detected it. They counter‑hacked, infected the computer with a virus, and completely destroyed it.”

At this point, the assistant who had been quietly listening spoke up: “Brother Zhou, didn’t we receive that package we suspected was connected to this? Shouldn’t we let the police check it too?”

Ruan Mingxi immediately caught the keyword. “What package?”

“Two days after my computer was ruined by the virus, I received a doll covered in blood. It was ripped apart, stuffing spilling everywhere.”

Zhou added: “I tried to trace the origin of the package but found nothing. I reported it to the local precinct, but they never found the sender.”

Ruan Mingxi asked: “Which precinct has the package now?”

Zhou replied: “Zhengyang District.”

Ruan Mingxi turned to glance at Officer Ren Xian — they would need to coordinate with the local police there.

“Alright, last question. From the evening of the 17th until today, your schedule on social media has been kept private. During this period, where were you, what were you doing, and do you have witnesses who can confirm it?”

Hearing this, Zhou Canran laughed. “Officer, that’s quite a long question.”

To Ruan Mingxi, however, it was just one question: confirming Zhou’s whereabouts to rule out suspicion.

“Answer the question.” Ruan Mingxi showed no irritation at Zhou’s mockery.

“On the night of the 17th, I was at Tianyang Villa, playing mahjong with some friends,” Zhou replied, his eyes sweeping over Ruan Mingxi. “My mahjong buddies can all testify for me.”

“And the rest of the time?” Ruan Mingxi pressed.

Zhou said: “From the 17th to the 21st, I stayed at Tianyang Villa with Qi Ruoxi — she can vouch for me. On the afternoon of the 21st, after leaving the villa, I joined the filming crew. My assistant, driver, and even the crew members can all confirm it.”

　　……

After finishing all the questions, the three of them left Zhou Canran’s RV, but their expressions were still far from relaxed.

On the way back, Ruan Mingxi turned to Jiang Xuzhou.

“What do you think about what Zhou Canran just said?”

Jiang Xuzhou took a deep breath. “Judging from his attitude when Wen Yang was mentioned, he seemed calm, even dismissive — as if Wen Yang didn’t matter to him. It didn’t look like he was lying.”

“If we assume everything Zhou said is true, then the overseas IP that leaked Wen Yang’s personal information — what exactly was it trying to do? What was the purpose behind all this? Right now, we don’t have any clues pointing anywhere.”

Wen Yang’s background check was spotless. His social connections were simple. If they had to list possible grudges, the only one they found was Zhou Canran.

“For Zhou Canran to target Wen Yang just because of a rejected esports invitation, and even develop murderous intent — that motive isn’t strong enough to support the idea of him planning a killing.”

Jiang Xuzhou added: “You must have noticed too — during questioning, he repeatedly emphasized that targeting Wen Yang would bring him no benefit. Subconsciously, his personality is one that weighs cost and reward in everything he does.”

“For someone who cares excessively about what he gains, it doesn’t make sense that he would spend so much effort, or pay such a heavy price, just to kill over something trivial.”

“And from the 17th until today, according to Zhou Canran’s account, he has alibis for the entire period. We came without warning, yet he gave such detailed answers. He had no time to coordinate with others. Once we investigate, we’ll know if it’s true or not. At this point, lying would bring him no benefit.”

Jiang Xuzhou added: “Suppose everything he said was false. Then arranging so many witnesses just to prove his alibi would take enormous effort. The longer the time span, the easier it is to slip up. That brings us back to the same issue — motive.”

The motive for murder was insufficient. Zhou Canran had no reason to do it.

And with so many people involved in testifying for him, it would be hard to control. One or two witnesses might be manageable, but a whole group increases the risk of contradictions. He had no need to take such a gamble.

Ruan Mingxi listened carefully. “So you believe Zhou Canran is innocent.”

“From the evidence we currently have, his motive and circumstances aren’t enough to support involvement in the case.”

“Damn!”

As they were speaking, a sudden shout erupted beside them — Officer Ren Xian’s voice booming unexpectedly.

The raised volume startled Ruan Mingxi, who had been deep in thought. Ren Xian was on the phone with colleagues at the Zhengyang District precinct, coordinating about retrieving the package. No one expected him to suddenly yell like that.