Red wine poisoning case 1.2

Lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating the still, dark shadow beneath the crack in the door.

Yu Yan's hand was already on his pistol, his muscles tense, and his breathing extremely shallow. Fan Jinci merely glanced at him indifferently, then walked to the bedside, his tone calm: "Ignore it."

"Don't we need to do anything?" Yu Yan lowered his voice. "There are people outside!"

"It's Wen Lin."

"--What?"

Fan Jinci sat on the edge of the bed, slowly unbuttoning his cuffs: "His shoes have cracks in the heels, which make a slight creaking sound when he walks. Just now in the dining room, he deliberately knocked over the salt shaker to observe the butler's reaction when he bent over."

Yu Yan was stunned. He did remember Wen Lin "accidentally" knocking over the salt shaker at dinner, but he never expected—

Three very soft knocks came from outside the door, two long and one short, like some kind of code.

Fan Jinci got up and opened the door.

Wen Lin slipped in like a cat, his hair still covered in dust from the attic, a vintage brass key clutched in his hand: "Guess what I found?"

Yu Yan's face darkened: "Weren't you and Li Weimian living next door—"

“Mian’s cold is fake.” Wen Lin chuckled and jingled his keys. “She’s in the basement right now looking through Ryan Howard’s autopsy log.”

Fan Jinci took the key, his fingertips tracing the teeth marks on it: "The attic?"

"Bingo!" Wen Lin blinked. "The butler checks it every hour, there must be something good inside."

Yu Yan suddenly grabbed Wen Lin by the collar: "Do you know how dangerous this is? What if—"

"What if what?" Wen Lin spread his hands innocently. "But I'm wearing black clothes!"

He ripped open his coat, revealing a flashy deep-V sequined shirt underneath—clearly the one he wore to the banquet.

Fan Jinci: "..."

Yu Yan: "..."

"How was it?" Wen Lin asked with great interest.

"Hmm." Fan Jinci replied somewhat stiffly.

"It suits you perfectly," he said blankly.

"Right, right? Brother Fan, I have another blue one, how about..."

"No."

"Why? It's so beautiful." Wen Lin asked, puzzled.

"because."

"I think you look good in it, I don't look as good as you." Fan Jinci lied without batting an eye.

He spoke with righteous indignation.

Wen Lin: Oh~

Yu Yan: ...

Thunder rumbled outside the window.

After Wen Lin slipped away, the room fell silent again.

The oil lamp flame flickered slightly, casting crisscrossing shadows on the wall. Yu Yan stood by the bed, watching Fan Jinci already lying down, the collar of his black shirt slightly open, revealing a section of pale collarbone.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and Yu Yan said in a hoarse voice, "...You just fell asleep like that?"

Fan Jinci closed his eyes: "Otherwise?"

"There might be danger outside. We can't completely trust what Wen Lin says, and besides—"

"Yu Yan." Fan Jinci suddenly opened his eyes, his gray-blue pupils like a frozen lake in the dim light. "You talk too much."

My heart skipped a beat.

Yu Yan gritted his teeth, ripped off his tie, and climbed onto the bed, whispering almost in Fan Jinci's ear, "Brother Fan...it's time to sleep."

His hot breath hit my earlobe, carrying a clear provocation and something deeper.

Fan Jinci glanced at him sideways, gave a nonchalant "Oh," and turned his back to him: "Turn off the lights."

Yu Yan: "...?"

never mind.

The moment the oil lamp went out, another flash of lightning appeared outside the window. In that instant of light, Yu Yan could see clearly another scar on Fan Jinci's wrist—butterfly-shaped, as if it had been cut by something sharp again, and the healing was not perfect.

He subconsciously reached out, his fingertips about to touch, when Fan Jinci suddenly spoke: "Move again and I'll chop off your hand."

His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

Yu Yan froze, then chuckled softly, and simply pulled the man into his arms, pressing his chest against Yu Yan's back: "Chop him up."

"I just like you."

Fan Jinci didn't move.

After a long while, Yu Yan realized that he had actually tacitly approved of the hug.

With her heart pounding, Yu Yan tightened her arms around him, burying her nose in the hair at the back of his neck, and smelling the faint scent of bitter orange and disinfectant.

The sound of rain outside the window grew louder.

At the end of the corridor, very light footsteps could be heard.

At 3:17 a.m., the oil lamp had long since burned out.

Fan Jinci suddenly opened his eyes.

Yu Yan's breath was still evenly spraying on the back of his neck, but the arm had already loosened its grip. He gently moved the hand away and silently sat up.

In the darkness, a sliver of light shone through the crack in the door—someone carrying a lantern had stopped outside their door.

Fan Jinci's hand reached for the scalpel under the pillow.

"Squeak—"

The door was slowly pushed open. The butler's white hair gleamed silver in the dim light, and the wrinkles on his face were as deep as if carved by a knife. In his hands he held a silver tray with a glass tube filled with a dark red liquid on it.

"The master ordered that you be given some calming medicine." The butler's voice was so kind it was chilling.

Fan Jinci's knife was already pressed against his throat: "Get out."

The butler's smile remained unchanged, but his gaze passed over him and fell on Yu Yan, who was pretending to be fast asleep on the bed: "Your friend is sleeping so soundly... Did the red wine at dinner have an effect?"

The scalpel moved forward half an inch, and beads of blood slid down the butler's neck.

“I said,” Fan Jinci said, emphasizing each word, “get out.”

The butler finally stepped back, but whispered as he closed the door, "Mr. Ryan missed you very much... M-0."

The door closed.

Fan Jinci stood still, the tip of his knife trembling slightly.

Behind him, Yu Yan suddenly sat up, his eyes clear: "...What did he call you?"