Episode 18: The Sealed Truth

It had rained for days on end. In the rainy nights, the howling wind could always be heard, as if wronged souls lingering in the world were crying out about what had happened to them — as if heaven and earth were weeping for them.

In recent days, the whole entertainment industry seemed shrouded in gloom, suffocating. The public had turned all its attention to Tianze Entertainment's senior management, accusing them of aiding evildoers, and dug up several bizarre celebrity deaths from years ago, starting to wonder: how could so many people have died at this one entertainment company?

He Yuchuan was run ragged by the storm. Although plenty of celebrity scandals had been leaked to draw the public's attention away, this round of crisis management only raised more questions, and netizens were even calling for a collective boycott of all entertainment shows —

Qian Musheng was a self-media blogger who normally just reported entertainment gossip. To chase traffic, he seized on whatever topics the public was interested in. His series of analytical reports drew a large audience — especially his detailed analysis of the Judge's methods of punishment. His traffic surged by millions, and his click rates even surpassed some traditional media outlets.

That day, Xia Zilan received a notice from Tianze Entertainment's senior management: the producer wanted to discuss publicity ahead of filming his next drama — a costume fitting, getting familiar with the script, coordinating with the other cast members — all to build buzz in advance. He arrived at the company early that morning. He made a phone call; Bai Yujing had some matters to attend to and told him to go to the company on his own — she had arranged everything.

Xia Zilan's recent clash with Lu Zilan had basically been smoothed over by Qin Shaohua. He sat in the dressing room, phone in hand, playing a game to clear a level, while the stylist brought in an outfit to design his look. He glanced up at it and sighed. "Sis, I'm playing a rookie cop who just joined the force. You give me clothes this fancy? He's a nobody — he should look like an ordinary person. Who goes to solve a case dressed up like that?"

The makeup artist looked a little embarrassed and replied, "It was Mr. Jiang's arrangement. This is the look for when you go undercover later."

Xia Zilan put down his phone and smiled. "Even undercover, a publicity photo should show the character as he really is. This is a mystery drama — it should look plain and close to real life." He flipped through the script and pointed at it. "There's not a single undercover scene in here…"

Jiang Yanzhou pushed the door open and said gracefully, "There's an online publicity livestream coming up. You should face the audience looking your best, shouldn't you?"

Xia Zilan's expression tightened. He pointed at the outfit, on guard. "Today is the costume fitting?"

Jiang Yanzhou smiled elegantly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "The company has to do some publicity, doesn't it? This drama is your breakthrough role. Don't you think the part suits you?"

Xia Zilan looked back at him, pouting, his brow furrowed, and answered with habitual politeness, "It's all right, I suppose. But could you cut the romance? This is a mystery drama — adding a love story wrecks the whole standard of the show. It's not an idol drama."

He still raised his objections. He had complained before about directors rewriting scripts at will and screenwriters writing in scenes that made no sense — like actresses who bought their way into productions, backed by powerful patrons… He had long since had enough of these rules… No wonder there were so many flops…

Jiang Yanzhou walked over, flipped through the script, tapped it, and said with a gentle smile, "You're right. I'll mention it to the screenwriter — cut the female lead's part entirely and make it another male lead instead. A dual-male-lead drama. How about that?"

Xia Zilan still hadn't lowered his guard. With a defiant look, he said cautiously, "No need to trouble yourself. I'll talk to Sister Bai myself…"

"How can you do this?" Song Yiyi shouted in the hall. "This is crossing the river and burning the bridge. I'm a traffic draw! President He, please listen to me?"

Xia Zilan was disturbed by the noise and poked his head out to look — it was Song Yiyi, who hadn't been seen in ages. He rarely had any contact with her. Jiang Yanzhou smiled. "I'll go and deal with something."

Song Yiyi had been cursed and cyberbullied by a flood of comments, but she still felt the whole affair had nothing to do with her. When she saw that Fan Zhiqi and Shen Yao had been brutally murdered by the Judge, she feared the same fate for herself. She had to find He Yuchuan and demand a guarantee — but the moment she reached the board chairman's office, she was thrown out. She had been abandoned.

She had thought they would be her backers. She had done so many things against her conscience for them, only to end up with nothing. She was usually extremely arrogant — in her eyes, those netizens were nothing but ants, incapable of stirring up any storm, and she assumed it would blow over in a few days. But this storm had dragged on for nearly two months, and the netizens would not let her go. Last time, the Judge had "judged" her on a livestream and the police had rescued her, yet she had become a villain reviled by everyone.

Although the Judge hadn't killed Song Yiyi, all her advertisers had terminated their contracts, all her works had been pulled, her new dramas had all been recast — even with AI face-swapping — and even the film that had just been released was boycotted by the public until the distributor was forced to pull it.

What hit her even harder was the official announcement of Fan Zhiqi's death. Then she received an anonymous text message. She opened it — and there was a video of Fan Zhiqi being mauled by the hounds, his terrible screams, the roaring of the dogs. It scared her so badly she dropped her phone. Her hands trembled, her whole body shook, and the visual shock left her incoherent. "It's not my fault. They arranged all of this. I was only carrying it out. This industry was always like this…"

He Yuchuan was already tormented by the whole affair and had no wish to hear a word from her. He ordered security to throw her out directly. She screamed like a madwoman, "You're all murderers… He's back, back for every one of you… No one will escape, ha ha, we're all going to die…"

Security dragged her straight out. The Tianze Entertainment staff didn't dare make a sound. Xia Zilan watched Song Yiyi in such a sorry state — the woman who had once been so untouchable, now with no regard for her image at all — and murmured, "Who are they?"

The next morning, Song Yiyi made an appointment with Tian Sirong early. She was the only person she could turn to — they had once been good friends, after all. She arrived at the meeting place early, wrapped up from head to toe, terrified of being recognized, her mind in a daze, glancing around suspiciously as if everyone were watching her.

Tian Sirong appeared before her wearing sunglasses. She sat down gracefully, took off her sunglasses, stretched out her long, beautiful fingers, and glanced at her freshly done manicure, saying indifferently, "What do you want me for? Don't you know the internet is full of stories about you lot these days? You drag me out this early just to have coffee?"

Song Yiyi looked around, her whole body trembling, and said softly, "I'm in trouble, Sister Rong. You have to help me!"

Tian Sirong took a sip of her coffee, looking utterly relaxed, and said gently, "You brought this on yourself. How am I supposed to help you?"

Song Yiyi looked up, stunned and impatient. "You want to abandon me? I've done so much for you lot."

Tian Sirong set down her coffee cup and smiled elegantly. "You did those things yourself. I never told you to do them. Besides, you were the one who arranged the meeting. Why come looking for me now?"

Song Yiyi said angrily, "You want to abandon me? You were involved too. You think you can deny it? So many people have died now. The next one might be you."

Her emotions hit their peak in an instant. Her eyes widened in terror — but in their eyes, she was nothing but a pawn to be discarded at will.

Tian Sirong kept smiling. "You lot did so many evil things, and now you want to drag me down with you? Your hands are stained with blood too. That doesn't wash clean."

Song Yiyi clenched her fists and glared sideways at her, saying viciously, "You old witch, still trying to seduce young pretty boys with backdoor deals. The Judge knows everything. You're next!" She deliberately stressed the last sentence, her expression turning strange, a strange smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Tian Sirong's face changed. She stiffened, fury blazing in her eyes. "You're plain-looking, average build, no talent… heh. If we hadn't promoted you, how would you have played so many leading ladies? Look how many dramas you've done, how many handsome co-stars you've worked with, and you still haven't made it big. We gave you so many resources, and you're still an eighteenth-tier nobody. You're a waste of space." She folded her arms, out of patience for the rambling. "One after another, you all come to me. You killed those people — why are you all blaming me?"

Song Yiyi's face turned strangely odd. Her lips curled up, her eyes turned eerie, and she smiled a devilish smile. "You're all going to die. The Judge will send you to hell one by one, ha ha… That night, the glass of wine Yu Mengge drank — who among you prepared it?" With that last sentence, her expression turned ferocious, a terrifying smile on her face.

Tian Sirong looked stunned, staring at Song Yiyi's strange smile, and cursed, "Song Yiyi, you're just a lapdog this industry raised. You've been in this business so long — don't you know the rules of the game?"

With that, she stood to leave, put on her sunglasses, pulled a few hundred yuan from her bag, tossed it on the table, and walked away without looking back.

Song Yiyi sat where she was, not saying a word, fuming, "I did so much for you lot, and you treat me like a dog, heh heh." Her mind was breaking down, her eyes wet with tears, her eyeballs motionless, her expression frozen. "In that case, I'll be a good person for once."

She grabbed the phone on the table and scrolled through its contacts. The glow of the screen lit up her pale face. At the top of the call log was the contact saved as "Gossip Qian — don't believe him too much." She pressed dial, her voice trembling. "Brother Qian, it's me… I have a big scoop. There's dirt on the Yu Mengge case. He didn't die by accident…"

On the other end, Qian Musheng had seemingly just finished a livestream, his voice tired. "Song Yiyi? Don't joke around. I wouldn't dare touch this case now."

"I'm not joking." She gritted her teeth, her voice almost breaking. "They're still killing people… Those celebrities didn't die by accident. Fan Zhiqi, Shen Yao, Fang Jin — they all took part in murdering Yu Mengge. That drinking party was arranged by them. The Judge is settling accounts for their crimes. I'll be next."

She said it all in one breath and finally felt relieved. After a moment of silence, she added, "This was a planned conspiracy…"

A brief silence.

Qian Musheng took a deep breath. "Where are you? Let's meet."

Song Yiyi gave him the address.

She put down the phone. Outside the window, lightning flashed, and the neon lights on the street corner were distorted by the rain. The fine rain fell steadily, as if this filthy world needed washing clean.

She turned back to look at the contract and a voice recorder sitting on the table — her "life insurance."

After Song Yiyi's call, Qian Musheng was half doubtful at first. But on reflection, hardly anyone in the entertainment industry came to him with leaks. He checked the time — it was still early — tidied himself up, and set out, figuring he might as well treat it as gossip for the masses.

He arrived at the meeting place as agreed and waited for hours, but Song Yiyi never showed. A little boy handed him an envelope — a crumpled, handmade paper thing — and told him on no account to open it until after ten o'clock. He checked the time; it was almost ten in the evening. He opened the envelope, and inside was a calling card of the Judge, engraved with a pair of scales — one end tilted, the other dropped. It frightened him so much his whole body shook. He swallowed and forced himself to stay calm, looked up at the stars, and wandered about alone, muttering to himself, "I knew there'd be nothing good in it. A big scoop, my foot. Forget it — I'm going home to eat watermelon."

He'd been stood up again — and it wasn't the first time. In this industry, he was just a gossip blogger, making a living off scandal and innuendo. But lately his popularity had soared, and several reports on the Judge in a row had brought him a surge of traffic. Still, in this industry he was just "living off borderline exposés."

Just as he was about to leave, an object suddenly fell from above his head. He reacted fast and dodged it. It landed right in front of him, giving him a huge fright. Thinking it was something thrown from a height, he cursed, "Which heartless bastard!" But when he looked down, it was Song Yiyi. His face changed instantly, his heart pounding wildly, his legs going weak until he could barely stand. He let out a scream and stumbled back several steps, terrified out of his wits…

In the end, he called the police. Standing to the side, he stared blankly at the body on the ground, feeling like he wanted to vomit but unable to. It was unbearably awful — how had he ended up mixed up in something like this?

The police arrived, took some statements, and checked the rooftop and its surroundings. Nothing suspicious. Situ Hengyi received the call and rushed over, looking at Qian Musheng, who sat there wooden and unable to utter a single word.

"The deceased is Song Yiyi, twenty-six, an actress. Severe head trauma, dead at the scene. No signs of a struggle at the scene. Preliminary finding — accidental fall."

The officer read the report in a low voice.

Situ Hengyi examined the marks on the rooftop. The footprints were out of proportion, the guardrail was too low to fit the trajectory of a suicide jump, and though it had rained the night before and any footprints would have been washed away, leaving no clues, there were only a few small pebbles on the platform — no signs of dragging or fighting, and no mark left behind by the Judge at the scene.

Lin Fan looked at the marks at the scene and sighed, "Another 'suicide' of a celebrity."

Wang Yuan scratched his head and asked curiously, "Lin Fan, why do all these celebrities like jumping off buildings?"

Lin Fan turned to him and teased, "This time you're not throwing up!"

Qian Musheng sat to the side, clutching the voice recorder tightly, his knuckles trembling. It was the one a little boy had stuffed into an envelope for him at the meeting place, marked with the Judge's signature.

He had never seen a scene like this. Scared out of his wits, he stared blankly ahead, opening his mouth to say something but making no sound. He was thinking about one question: what on earth had he gotten himself into?

When he closed his eyes, he saw Song Yiyi's body, blood pooling all over the ground. His heart clenched, his whole body felt awful, as if some force were pulling him in, and he felt terrified, almost suffocated.

The next day, the sunlight outside the window was blinding. The city after the rain looked clean, as if nothing had happened.

Only Qian Musheng knew that Song Yiyi's last phone call had contained one unfinished sentence: "They told me… to wait upstairs…"

He looked up, gazing out the window. That night had been unbearable. He had spent the night at the police station giving a statement, telling the whole story from start to finish — but he hadn't mentioned the envelope the Judge had given him.

A pigeon took flight from a power line, its dark shape sweeping across the morning light.

Qian Musheng murmured, "She didn't jump. She was delivered up there."