Top Dupe CH 084 I'll Accompany You Part 2

On the second floor of the villa, there was a restroom. Gu Xiaowei came out of the studio and went upstairs.

Luo Yu followed closely behind him. Just as Gu Xiaowei entered the restroom, Luo Yu intended to wait outside, accompanying him, watching him.

Who knew that after entering, Gu Xiaowei didn’t lock the door but left a crack open.

From time to time, staff members passed by, and Luo Yu was worried that this guy would be seen. Wasn’t he just going to relieve himself?

Just as Luo Yu’s hand grasped the doorknob, intending to shut it tightly, he suddenly noticed Gu Xiaowei standing right in front of the crack in the door. The light was dim, and Gu Xiaowei’s dark eyes made Luo Yu’s breath catch.

“What are you…”

Before Luo Yu could finish his sentence, he was pulled inside by Gu Xiaowei.

With a “click,” the door was locked.

Luo Yu was pressed against the ceramic tile wall, his back cold, facing a stern looking Gu Xiaowei.

“Why are you following me?” Gu Xiaowei’s voice was soft, but his icy tone carried a slight echo in the confined space, reminding Luo Yu of stone sculptures in ancient temples, their downcast eyes appearing compassionate but actually heartless and loveless.

But Luo Yu knew better than anyone that Gu Xiaowei possessed emotions richer than ordinary people.

“Didn’t we agree that I’d accompany you?” Luo Yu looked into Gu Xiaowei’s eyes and replied seriously.

Gu Xiaowei smiled, reaching out to brush the hair at Luo Yu’s forehead aside, with a hint of nonchalance.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid… of what? Afraid you’ll become Lu Pingfeng, or afraid you’ll learn from that psychologist and kill me while I’m asleep tonight, then dissect my back…”

“Stop talking!” Gu Xiaowei covered Luo Yu’s mouth, his gaze suddenly turning cold.

Luo Yu closed his eyes and let out a low laugh; Gu Xiaowei could feel that slight movement against his palm.

Just as he retracted his hand, Luo Yu took a step forward and embraced him.

“See, even imagining killing me elicits such a strong reaction from you. If you sleepwalk tonight, at most you’ll just…” Luo Yu’s hand slid up along Gu Xiaowei’s spine, gently cradling the back of his neck.

“At most what?” Gu Xiaowei asked.

“Draw a few sketches of me. Just like Lu Pingfeng holding a knife in his sleep, he merely took the knife as a brush to paint.”

“What about the bloodstains on the wall? What do they mean to Lu Pingfeng?”

“They are dots, lines, shapes—an inner map left by that psychologist. He can’t even control his own inner madness; how could he possibly cure Lu Pingfeng, who isn’t actually insane?”

As Luo Yu’s words fell, Gu Xiaowei raised his hand and tightly embraced him, like vines clinging to a sturdy tree, drawing life source only from him.

In that small, dark space, Luo Yu felt as if he completely possessed Gu Xiaowei.

But this sense of satisfaction was fleeting.

The megaphone of the crew echoed throughout the villa: “The third scene for today is ready—starting in five minutes!”

Gu Xiaowei slowly released his arms, allowing Luo Yu to breathe. He didn’t completely let go, as if his heart were filled with countless threads of attachment, wanting to linger in that moment.

Until someone knocked on the restroom door, “Teacher Gu, Teacher Gu, are you in there? The next scene is about to start!”

“I’ll be right out,” Gu Xiaowei said, raising his head to respond towards the door.

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

Once that person left, Gu Xiaowei took a step back, finally releasing his hands from Luo Yu.

“Thank you,” Gu Xiaowei said softly.

“Do you want me to straighten your collar for you?” Luo Yu said half-jokingly.

Gu Xiaowei smiled faintly, opened the restroom door, and walked out.

Light poured in, landing on Gu Xiaowei’s shoulders.

At that moment, Luo Yu felt a bit more at ease.

As Gu Xiaowei stepped down the first step, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at Luo Yu, who was following behind him.

“I want,” Gu Xiaowei said.

“What do you want?”

“Straighten my collar,” Gu Xiaowei said, tilting his head slightly.

Around them were staff members bustling with lights and props.

They were the only still center in this busy, swirling world.

Though Gu Xiaowei’s face bore Lu Pingfeng’s gloom, it had a warm yet fragile outline.

Luo Yu stood at the foot of the stairs, fingers pinching Gu Xiaowei’s collar, carefully smoothing it out. His fingers slipped between the collar and Gu Xiaowei’s skin, moving slightly, but Gu Xiaowei showed no aversion, maintaining his upward tilt.

So obedient.

“All set, go ahead.” Luo Yu gently patted his chest.

“En.”

Only then did Gu Xiaowei turn and head down.

The next scene was set in Lu Pingfeng’s studio, focusing on a dialogue between Zhao Sicheng and Lu Pingfeng.

In the entire studio, aside from the easels and paint, there were only three people: Zhao Sicheng, Lu Pingfeng, and a police officer taking notes.

The camera was set, and the lighting was adjusted; with limited space in the studio, all unnecessary personnel had been asked to leave the scene.

Luo Yu held Gu Xiaowei’s thermos and approached the director, able to see the actors’ most direct performances on the monitor.

The studio was brightly lit, but Lu Pingfeng absorbed all the light in the space like a black hole.

Zhao Sicheng sat opposite him, his expression objective and cold, not even bothering to offer a polite smile.

“Mr. Lu, I’ll skip the useless opening remarks. I’m here today to ask you, what is your relationship with the original owner of this villa, Mr. Kong Qun?”

Lu Pingfeng answered calmly, “He was my psychologist. To be precise, he served as my psychological counselor from the age of twelve to twenty-two.”

“It seems you had a deep bond with Mr. Kong Qun. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bought this house after his suicide,” Zhao Sicheng said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

However, Lu Pingfeng did not get angered by this. “In the process of investigating Mr. Kong Qun’s case, the police should have obtained Dr. Kong’s psychological assessments of me, indicating emotional cognitive disorder and antisocial personality disorder. Emotionally, there is no distinction for me between living and non-living things in this world. Therefore, I have no so-called feelings for Dr. Kong, and I feel nothing about his death.”

Zhao Sicheng continued, “According to the records from that year, you were the one who reported the case.”

Lu Pingfeng nodded. “Yes. It was the day I was scheduled for psychological counseling. The villa’s door was open, I went in, saw what happened, and then called the police.”

“From the time you made the call to when the police arrived on the scene, about ten minutes passed. You stood in front of that wall of blood for the entire ten minutes. According to the officer who answered the call, you looked completely entranced.”

Lu Pingfeng showed no impatience towards Zhao Sicheng’s entanglement with various issues from the past case. On the contrary, he was calm and composed, as if he had long been prepared with all the answers. Or perhaps he truly didn’t care, which allowed him to describe past events without any emotional coloration.

“I have no feelings about life and death, but my perception of colors and lines is very strong. At that time, what I saw was not a corpse, but colors and lines; they together formed a painting. The police also had psychological experts assess me, which confirmed my ‘likes and dislikes’ for this world.”

“I heard a rumor that Dr. Kong’s wife, Chen Chao, had always liked handsome young men like you, so she took special care of you. This caused Dr. Kong’s dissatisfaction. When Chen Chao found out that Dr. Kong was preparing to divorce her, she acted without hesitation and gave Dr. Kong a lethal drug, but unexpectedly it was switched for a psychiatric medication that Dr. Kong prescribed for you.”

Zhao Sicheng looked coldly at Lu Pingfeng, wanting to delve into his mind, peeling back the layers to reveal all the darkness hidden in his thoughts.

“Oh... is it that small round white pill?” Lu Pingfeng tilted his head back, lost in thought. “Dr. Kong said that when I felt excited upon seeing dead things, like dead sparrows, kittens, puppies, or even humans, I should take this medication. But the problem is... I find them beautiful and wish to quietly observe and accompany the dead animals, yet I have never felt excited.”

“You’re saying you never took that medication. But it was put in Dr. Kong’s red wine, causing him to have extreme hallucinations that led him to kill his wife?” Zhao Sicheng asked.

“Right, I hardly had the chance to take that medication, and it instead became the reason I was mocked and isolated at school. So, I returned the medication. However, Dr. Kong wasn’t there that day, so I handed it to Mrs. Kong. What Mrs. Kong did afterward has nothing to do with me.”

Lu Pingfeng leaned slightly forward, meeting Zhao Sicheng's gaze without fear. His face still wore a polite and appropriate smile, but it made Zhao Sicheng shiver.

Because there was no doubt that Mrs. Kong attempted to murder Mr. Kong, but there had always been another theory among the police.

That was that Lu Pingfeng never believed Dr. Kong could cure him, nor could he control his condition. Lu Pingfeng returned the medication to Dr. Kong and intentionally handed it to Mrs. Kong, knowing she had already harbored thoughts of murdering Dr. Kong, thus providing her with "timely assistance."

No one knew whether Lu Pingfeng mentioned that the medication could cause hallucinations in normal people when he handed it to Mrs. Kong.

Or perhaps... did he guide Mrs. Kong to mistakenly believe that the medication's effects and ingredients were similar to those of a sleeping pill, which could be used for murder?

Using Mrs. Kong’s hands, Lu Pingfeng took revenge on Dr. Kong, who labeled him as having an “antisocial personality.” For a psychiatrist to go mad because of his own prescribed psychiatric medication was the greatest irony for him.

But none of this had evidence.

“So, returning to the original question, if you bought this villa not for the purpose of revisiting the crime scene, then why? Was it cheap because it’s a murder house? But with your assets, you shouldn’t care about that little price difference, right?” Zhao Sicheng asked.

Lu Pingfeng turned his face, his fingertip tapping by his ear as if weighing how to answer this question.

“In fact, the decision to buy and live in this villa was arranged by my agent, Ai Lin. The value of a painting is sometimes related to the story behind it. Living in such a murder house, having witnessed the death scene of my psychiatrist and his wife, and painting death-themed artworks in this murder house provides essential material for publicity and business—everything for commercial value.”

Zhao Sicheng's gaze turned cold. “Ai Lin?”

“Yes. From the buying and selling, the transfer, even the renovation and the later installation of cameras, it was all arranged by her. I can eat, sleep, and paint anywhere.” Lu Pingfeng said lightly.

Zhao Sicheng lowered his eyes, falling into deep thought. “What about the models you paint? Did you choose them, or did she arrange them for you?”

“Of course it was her. I don’t care who my model is, as long as they can bend backward. I could even paint you, Captain Zhao.”

Zhao Sicheng keenly caught a piece of information. “You just said the cameras were installed by the other?”

“Yes.”

“Does Ai Lin have the keys to your villa?” Zhao Sicheng asked again.

“Yes.”

A certain overlooked thought flashed through Zhao Sicheng's mind; perhaps he missed some important information.

Zhao Sicheng lowered his head and took out his phone to send a message to his colleagues: [Check the surveillance before each of Lu Pingfeng's sleepwalking incidents. Was there a shadow passing from the studio to the kitchen?]