Top Dupe CH 086 Control Part 2

The clapperboard sounded alongside the thunder, as lightning and thunder lit up the distant sky, occasionally casting a glow on the window.

“Mm…” Wen Yuchi murmured softly but didn’t wake up. He simply drew his legs onto the sofa, pulled the coat draped on the sofa over himself, and continued sleeping.

In the scene’s dark atmosphere, as though the darkness was about to descend, Wen Yuchi seemed like prey completely oblivious to danger, calm and serene under the thunder and lightning.

The boiling kettle gradually fell silent; the red light at the bottom turned off, indicating either a power cut or a tripped circuit.

It felt like a sinister omen.

The entire room dimmed, leaving only the sound of the heavy rain outside, as though it would fill the world.

The thunder grew closer, creating a heart-stopping tension, but Wen Yuchi’s mind seemed submerged in another realm.

His slightly ajar apartment door creaked open, just faintly, almost drowned out by the thunder.

A tall figure stepped into the room, strolling in lazily as though unconcerned about being noticed by Wen Yuchi. At the same time, every step he took was silent, blending into the darkness, until he reached the sofa and gazed down, quietly and patiently, at the sleeping Wen Yuchi.

Though an uninvited shadow, he watched over Wen Yuchi with an air of natural entitlement, even tilting his head in a gentle and careful manner.

The rain continued. He seemed like a defiant observer peeking at a sliver of light, with no lines but an aura of complete restraint and self-control, as though roses were blooming in his blood, their calyxes and thorns tearing through veins and heart. Even though his mind screamed in pain, he maintained his silence—for if Wen Yuchi were to wake up, his judging gaze might be no different from the world's.

And then all illusions would be shattered.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the intruder’s face.

Cold and sharp as though chiseled from stone.

Then a thunderclap rumbled, causing the whole building to shudder.

Wen Yuchi jolted awake, his shoulder twitching. Before his eyes had fully opened, he sensed someone standing by his sofa.

His instincts kicked in, and he tensed to spring up, but the other person’s hand suddenly gripped his throat, pinning him back onto the sofa with a knee pressing down on his abdomen.

Wen Yuchi’s eyes widened, his body taut, and his first reaction was to grab the other person’s fingers. But the grip was unexpectedly strong, and with both hands, he could only barely prevent the fingers from crushing his throat.

But if they wanted to kill him, why use only one hand?

And the feel of this hand... that wrist... seemed familiar.

Wen Yuchi looked up at his assailant in silhouette, breathing in a scent both refreshing and faintly heated, as if a chemical reaction had occurred. Combined with the dampness of the rain, it accelerated his heartbeat, an invisible something tearing at a membrane over his heart—not pain, but a kind of addictive torment.

His gaze met a pair of deep, enigmatic eyes, apparently cold but simmering with a hidden fire, rising from the depths to a rolling boil. Wen Yuchi had, for the first time, the illusion that his gaze was burning.

Another flash of lightning outlined the person’s elegant features, and for an instant, Wen Yuchi wondered if this person had somehow fused with his soul, their gaze like a celestial tide flowing through his veins.

They drew closer, hair slipping down, almost brushing Wen Yuchi’s cheek though there was still a gap, the restrained aura searing as if his senses were stripped.

“Mr. Lu… how did you get in?”

As Wen Yuchi realized who it was, he released his grip.

As expected, the hand at his throat immediately lightened, holding his neck with just enough pressure to make its presence known without constricting his breathing.

“You didn’t close the door,” Lu Pingfeng’s voice was cold, his tone utterly calm, yet it sounded gentle against the sound of torrential rain.

“You can let go now. If there hadn’t been a power outage, I could have offered you some hot…” Wen Yuchi glanced toward the kitchen, where the kettle’s water had likely cooled, “instant coffee.”

“I came here to kill you. Just like I killed Dr. Kong… I have countless ways to stage the crime scene as an accident. I could, for example, ignite the gas in your apartment.”

Lu Pingfeng’s features held a naturally intense beauty in the darkness, as if concealing countless secrets and madness, alluring to anyone who thought they couldn’t be ensnared.

But Wen Yuchi easily crossed that line, for he saw those shadows as no different from those cast by drifting clouds on the ground.

“Lu Pingfeng, how many bottles of medicine did you return to Mrs. Kong?”

“One,” Lu Pingfeng answered.

“A bottle has no more than twenty-four tablets, which matches Dr. Kong’s prescription,” Wen Yuchi said.

“So?”

“So what? I checked that medication. Taking all twenty-four pills isn’t enough to cause Dr. Kong’s psychosis. The dose he took was double what you were prescribed. Think about it—could a single glass of wine dissolve such a large amount, or was his tongue numb?”

Wen Yuchi’s lips curved slightly, his gaze shimmering with a sly glint, like the faintest note of a string causing Lu Pingfeng’s heart to resonate.

“So… Dr. Kong didn’t die from the pills I returned.”

Lu Pingfeng’s hand left Wen Yuchi’s throat, and he stepped back, sitting on the small coffee table.

“I’m not a detective, nor am I responsible for solving cases or making assumptions,” Wen Yuchi murmured.

But in truth, Wen Yuchi had already revealed the truth to Lu Pingfeng.

For Dr. Kong to drink wine containing such a high dose of the drug, he must have done so willingly, perhaps with intent.

Whether he wanted an excuse to punish his wife or experience a taste of madness didn’t matter to Wen Yuchi or Lu Pingfeng anymore.

“Actually, when I arrived at the crime scene and first saw the blood on that wall, I was captivated. They were complex, unrestrained, like a vast flood,” Lu Pingfeng said.

Wen Yuchi shrugged with a smile, “Every time I dissect a human body, I find the organs, blood vessels, muscles, and even the fat to be intricate and subtle—a masterpiece by the Creator.”

We each, in our own fields, set aside human emotion to objectively appreciate the beauty within.

Lu Pingfeng’s shoulders lowered slightly, his entire posture relaxed.

All the absurd details carved into his heart seemed to smooth out.

Outside, lightning continued to flash and thunder boomed, rain pouring down, obscuring the world.

Yet, in this small apartment, Lu Pingfeng felt as though he’d experienced a tidal surge of moonrise and sunset, seeing the reflection of another soul in the ebb.

Wen Yuchi sat up slowly, lazily ruffling his hair, his tired eyes gleaming with clarity, “Mr. Lu, I’m a forensic pathologist; I speak with corpses. I only believe the facts they reveal.”

"So I won’t be so presumptuous about you... You can step into my world without worry."

"I’m a painter. I converse with death, and I only believe in the certain beauty of death," Lu Pingfeng said to Wen Yuchi with a smile.

And you, you exist outside of death.

You may not have arrived in formal attire, but you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.

"Coffee?"

After a short nap and a slight "scare" from Lu Pingfeng, Wen Yuchi was now three parts awake. He walked to the kitchen, touched the kettle, finding it lukewarm.

"Though I don’t have the elegance of hand-brewed coffee, this jar is still the aristocrat of instant coffee."

Lu Pingfeng walked over, took the large glass jar from Wen Yuchi's hand, and placed it back on the shelf.

"What you should be drinking isn’t coffee, but milk."

"I’d like to have some instant noodles, but the power’s out now!" Wen Yuchi complained.

Lu Pingfeng turned and walked toward the door. Wen Yuchi raised his hand slightly. "Come on… Because I don’t have hand-brewed coffee, you’re going to leave without even saying goodbye?"

Who would’ve guessed that Lu Pingfeng instead brought over a small box from the shelf by the entrance.

"Pastries."

Wen Yuchi tilted his head slightly. "Don’t tell me it’s red velvet cake in there."

"Why? Do you feel nauseous at the sight of red velvet cake because you found traces of it in a victim’s stomach?"

"Then you’re underestimating me. I’ve handled countless victims, with every possible food in their stomachs. If that alone made me nauseous, I’d probably live on nutritional supplements." Wen Yuchi opened the box and found various flavors of Swiss rolls inside.

He casually took a piece and took a big bite. The sweetness was just right, soft and delicious, instantly soothing his empty stomach.

As Wen Yuchi reached for a second piece, the cue sounded that the scene was finished. 

Everyone on set snapped back to reality from their engrossed viewing of the scene.

This scene had been incredibly immersive.

When Lu Pingfeng first appeared, he created an almost suffocating tension. Gu Xiaowei’s performance was different from the audition, bringing a duality to the character.

Standing by Wen Yuchi's sofa, he treated him with gentle restraint, but the moment he grabbed Wen Yuchi, the aura of aggression and killing intent was instantly unleashed.

At this moment, Luo Yu was holding the box of Swiss rolls, stuffing the last bite into his mouth, and casually holding up another piece to Gu Xiaowei's mouth. "Want some?"

Before Gu Xiaowei could answer, the director shouted over the megaphone, “Eat, eat, eat! Who said you could eat the props?! Who told you that one take means we’re done filming?! Everyone, get back into position! Swiss rolls, replace them! One more take!”

Luo Yu, looking baffled, held the Swiss roll and tried to figure out the best angle to put it back.

But Gu Xiaowei walked over, pressed down his own collar, raised Luo Yu's wrist, and bit into the Swiss roll right in front of the director.

The bustling set fell silent.

Sheng Yunlan widened his eyes as he looked at the two of them, picking up the megaphone to shout, only for the staff to quickly reassure him, “There’s more! Plenty of Swiss rolls left!”

Gu Xiaowei continued to eat the roll from Luo Yu’s hand, slowly, finishing one side before turning to the other side.

From Luo Yu’s angle, it almost looked like he was kissing with the Swiss roll. Each time his heart would leap, carefully avoiding Gu Xiaowei’s lips yet secretly hoping he might actually touch them.

Gu Xiaowei's eyelashes were long; when he lowered his eyes, he seemed gentle, and when he looked up, he was inexplicably captivating.

So close now… Admiring beauty is a natural instinct, Luo Yu thought, as he watched Gu Xiaowei lick off the cream from the corner of his mouth with a flash of subtle red hue, feeling his heartbeat speed up.

Fine, Gu Xiaowei—whether you’re deliberately approaching me or just being friendly, I’ve decided I’ll do as I please.

With that last bit of roll in his hand, Luo Yu took advantage of Gu Xiaowei’s distraction to push it all into his mouth, letting his fingers briefly brush against him.

That fleeting softness made Luo Yu’s heart tremble.

He could feel Gu Xiaowei’s lips pressing down a bit, perhaps afraid the roll might fall, or maybe to keep Luo Yu's fingers there a moment longer.

But whatever the reason, Luo Yu avoided his gaze, turned, and handed the pastry box to the crew.

"Sorry, we ate the props. Could you add two more pieces?"

"Sure thing, no problem."

Director Sheng then picked up the megaphone and called out, "If you two dare eat the props again, believe me, I’ll shoot this scene until morning! Let’s see if you’ll keep eating then!"

Luo Yu folded his hands together in an apologetic gesture toward Director Sheng. "So sorry! So sorry! It tasted so good, couldn’t stop after one bite."