Too Deep in the Role

There was a world of difference between making assumptions and hearing a confession firsthand.

Even though An Zhi had already convinced herself that Wen Yiqian was a high-IQ criminal, hearing him say it directly into her ear still left her stunned and speechless.

“But even if I admit it to your face, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Wen Yiqian said with a faint smile. “Because you have no evidence.”

He tucked a strand of An Zhi’s hair behind her ear, his tone unhurried.

“What’s more, I can tell you with complete certainty that today’s case was flawlessly executed.”

“No matter how thoroughly you investigate, you’ll reach only one conclusion: I’m innocent.”

An Zhi’s body stiffened, her face going slightly pale, her eyes still fixed straight ahead. “If not this time, then next time. One day I’ll catch you myself.”

“I’m afraid you won’t get the chance.” Wen Yiqian’s smile widened. “This is my last job. After today, I’m done for good.”

“From now on, you’ll be the only person in the world who knows my true face.”

“You’ll remember me for the rest of your life, but you will never catch me.”

An Zhi’s expression darkened. She bit her lower lip. “I don’t believe you.”

“Fair enough. I’m not exactly reliable. Who knows when I might change my mind?” Wen Yiqian shrugged. “If I ever decide to stir things up again, you’d better watch yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because by then, you’ll be the first to go, little fool.”

An Zhi gave a slight tremor, a bone-deep cold spreading through her.

Without realizing it, her back had gone slick with cold sweat.

“Your hands are freezing. Did I scare you?” Wen Yiqian gently lifted An Zhi’s slender hand from the steering wheel.

An Zhi’s throat went dry. She couldn’t find her voice.

“Don’t worry, I was only joking. How could I ever hurt you?” Wen Yiqian smiled warmly. “If you really want to catch me, I don’t mind giving you a shot.”

An Zhi stayed quiet, listening.

“Do you remember the Xu Xuanmei case?” Wen Yiqian asked, his tone unhurried. “Ask yourself: why didn’t her husband take his mistress to a hotel? Why did he wait for his wife to leave for work and bring her home instead?”

“Because… it’s more of a thrill?” An Zhi thought for a moment.

“Exactly.” Wen Yiqian gave a low laugh. “Earlier you said I managed to handle Xu Xuanmei so easily because I’m handsome.”

“But that’s obviously not the real reason. It’s the kind of thrill that drives people out of their minds.”

He leaned close to An Zhi’s ear, his voice carrying an unsettling pull. “If you had been Xu Xuanmei in that moment, would you have said no?”

An Zhi’s lips parted slightly. She wanted to say yes without hesitation, but her mind had already put her in Xu Xuanmei’s position before she could stop it.

A fifty percent chance of being tied up and handed over to the police.

And a fifty percent chance of doing something reckless with Wen Yiqian, right there in front of her husband’s corpse.

Just turning the thought over made An Zhi’s heart lurch, her breathing quicken against her will.

“You said you wanted to catch me. I’m offering you the chance.” Wen Yiqian traced a light line across her palm with one finger. “Let you feel that thrill for yourself.”

It was as if something small and soft had scratched at the inside of An Zhi’s chest: restless and strange.

“In your dreams.” She shook her head sharply and pulled her hand free, glaring at him.

“Alright. I’m tired. Goodnight, little fool. Try not to dream about me.” Wen Yiqian didn’t seem bothered in the least, giving An Zhi’s head a light, unhurried pat.

The tone was fond in a way that sounded almost like a boyfriend talking to his girlfriend.

His face was full of quiet mischief, and paired with those looks, it added up to something she couldn’t quite name.

An Zhi froze. By the time she came back to herself, his silhouette had already dissolved into the darkness of the residential complex.

Only then did the tension leave her all at once. She sank back into her seat, forehead damp, heart hammering.

For a long moment, a tangle of feelings she couldn’t sort out churned through her.

…

“What on earth did I just say?”

Inside the residential complex, Wen Yiqian clutched his hair and crouched on the ground, looking deeply pained.

He had only been a little irritated and wanted to give her a scare.

He had not expected things to spiral this far out of control.

Especially those last few lines: what was that? What kind of person says things like that?

And those actions: touching her hand, patting her head. Was he trying to get arrested?

In An Zhi’s eyes, he must look like the greasiest, most insufferable creep alive. The thought alone made him want to sink into the pavement and disappear.

At least I’ll probably never have to see her again. That was the only comfort he could offer himself.

After a long while, the shame finally ebbed and Wen Yiqian pulled himself back together.

That was when he realized something was off.

He had put on three performances today.

The first had been stiff, full of rough edges. He hadn’t fully sunk into the role, which meant he could step out of it freely.

By the second, he felt completely at ease, the whole thing flowing without effort.

So much so that he had completely lost himself in it, chasing Tian Buyi across several floors with a kitchen knife.

And now, in this third performance, he had gone so far under that he lost himself entirely: saying things he hadn’t planned to say, doing things he hadn’t meant to do.

He couldn’t help but think of stories he had read about actors who immersed themselves so completely in a role that they couldn’t find their way back out. Some of them had ended up unable to separate the character from themselves, falling into depression, and ultimately taking their own lives.

Wen Yiqian had a sinking feeling he was heading in that direction. To make each performance convincing, he had been throwing himself fully into the male lead’s psychology each time.

In those moments, he would forget who he actually was. He became the role completely.

The upside was obvious: the performances were so convincing they shook hardened psychopaths to their core.

The downside was just as clear: he lost control, lost perspective, and did things that had no business happening.

If this kept up, Wen Yiqian was genuinely worried that one day he might cross a line he couldn’t come back from.

The thought sent a chill through him.

If that ever happened…

This story was going to get deleted.

(End of Chapter)