After Wang Dali left, Huang Xiaotao and I headed to Deng Chao's dormitory. You can imagine how dirty and messy the boys' dorm was; Huang Xiaotao frowned the entire way.
Just then, a guy wearing baggy shorts suddenly rushed out from one of the rooms, loudly knocking on each door to borrow shampoo. When he spotted Huang Xiaotao, he froze for a moment, quickly covered himself, and slipped back inside.
Huang Xiaotao frowned and said, "They're like a bunch of pigs. Song Yang, are you usually like this?"
"How could I be?" I replied. "I'm very particular about personal hygiene. My bed is always folded neatly, like a tofu block. You can ask Wang Dali later if you don't believe me."
"Really? Then I'll have to check it out later," Huang Xiaotao said.
I felt awkward. If she knew I was also part of the 'pig herd,' it would seriously damage my image. So I quickly said, "Let's focus on the case first. We can tour the dorm later."
Huang Xiaotao smirked knowingly.
We asked around and finally arrived at Deng Chao's room. Inside, a long-haired guy was sitting on the desk playing the guitar. Probably because no girls had ever visited their dorm, especially someone as cool and mature as Huang Xiaotao, he stood up nervously as we entered.
"Wh-who are you looking for?" he asked.
Huang Xiaotao showed her police badge and got straight to the point. "Deng Chao lives here, right?"
...
"You're a cop! Come in, come in. Want some water? I heard someone hanged themselves this morning—a close friend of Deng Chao, Zhang Kai. That guy didn't come back all night. Do you think something happened to him too?" the long-haired guy asked.
"He was murdered," Huang Xiaotao said.
Suddenly, a burly guy next to me sat up with a loud "whoosh," startling me. "Really? Who killed A-Chao?"
"The police are still investigating. Can I ask if Deng Chao had any enemies?" Huang Xiaotao asked.
The long-haired guy thought for a moment. "There were a few people in class who didn't get along with him. Deng Chao… how to put it… he was the kind who easily stirred up jealousy."
"Why do you say that?" Huang Xiaotao pressed.
"You probably don't know, but he was a real academic genius!" the long-haired guy said with admiration.
"Good grades?" Huang Xiaotao asked.
"Yeah, he was really smart. He rarely attended classes but still scored above 90 on every exam and won scholarships every year. Honestly, sometimes I felt it was unfair. We played and slept like everyone else, but he aced every test. Don't get me wrong—I'd never kill someone over this."
"Who had conflicts with him?" Huang Xiaotao pulled out her notebook.
The long-haired guy named a few people, and Huang Xiaotao wrote them down.
Then the loud guy suddenly said, "Those guys? No way, no way. If A-Chao's dead, it was definitely that guy who did it!"
"Who?" Huang Xiaotao asked sharply.
The loud guy sat up, pulled a pack of cigarettes from under his pillow, lit one, and began to tell Deng Chao's story.
He clearly knew Deng Chao well. Deng Chao was indeed very smart — he scored an IQ of 140 on a test during his college entrance exams and only needed to skim textbooks to ace school tests.
Recently, Deng Chao wrote a thesis that received high praise from his professor and was recommended to higher authorities, earning him a coveted guaranteed graduate admission spot — only four spots per department.
But a guy named Ma Baobao from the same department accused Deng Chao of plagiarism, submitting evidence to the school. As a result, Deng Chao's guaranteed admission was revoked, and the school demanded he repay two scholarships totaling over 17,000 yuan.
Meanwhile, the spot was taken by Ma Baobao, raising suspicions about his true motives.
Ma Baobao was quite shameless — he bragged about it everywhere and even accused Deng Chao of cheating on previous exams.
Even the teachers were fed up with Ma Baobao's petty behavior.
These rumors infuriated Deng Chao. Once, he punched a balcony window so hard it shattered, requiring five stitches.
But Deng Chao was not someone to mess with. Being a typical Scorpio, he never forgot a grudge.
One night before summer vacation, Ma Baobao was heading back from studying when someone jumped out from the bushes and slashed him with a small knife. Ma Baobao ran away terrified.
Though it was only a superficial wound, Ma Baobao fell ill with a high fever and had to go home for three months, spending thousands on treatment.
When he returned, Ma Baobao was subdued and stopped badmouthing Deng Chao but often hinted on Weibo that someone wanted to kill him.
Whether Deng Chao was involved was never confirmed. But the loud guy suspected Deng Chao might have infected himself with some bacteria from the knife, as he had been wearing gloves lately.
He guessed Ma Baobao might have held a grudge and ended up killing Deng Chao himself.
Huang Xiaotao then asked, "Which desk is Deng Chao's?"
"That one," the loud guy pointed to the middle desk.
We looked through Deng Chao's stuff. His desk was filled with books and magazines; his cabinet was full of clothes.
Deng Chao also liked basketball. I saw a team photo and asked who he was.
The loud guy pointed to a smiling, fair-skinned guy wearing jersey number zero, with his arm around another guy.
"Who's next to Deng Chao?" I asked.
"His best friend Zhang Kai — the one who hanged himself this morning."
"Best friend?" Huang Xiaotao was shocked. "They were… like that?"
"No, no, you're misunderstanding. 'Best friend' is just a term for really close buddies," I explained quickly.
"Yeah, they were tight," the loud guy added. "Zhang Kai was loyal—always helped me study, lent me his notes. Once when I got drunk, he carried me back to the dorm."
"You knew him too?" I asked.
"Of course, same department and used to play basketball together," the loud guy said wistfully, looking at the ceiling. "I was a starter until my knee injury…"
We weren't interested in his nostalgia and kept looking. Something caught my eye — a plastic surgery flyer slipped between the books.
It listed services like facial liposuction, chin implants, lip fillers, double eyelid surgery, hand and leg cosmetic procedures, and more.
The flyer looked like it was used as a bookmark. The loud guy kept rambling about an old basketball game, but Huang Xiaotao cut him off: "Did Deng Chao have plastic surgery?"
"What? Surgery?" The loud guy was stunned. "No way, he's not into that stuff — and it's expensive."
I folded the flyer and slipped it into my pocket, sensing a clue.
Then I asked the loud guy, "You said Zhang Kai lent you his notes—do you still have them?"
"Yeah, why?"
I was thinking of an excuse when he got up and said, "I might as well give them to you. They're just a bunch of photocopies."
He grabbed a stack from his drawer and bagged them for me. I thanked him.
He looked me up and down. "Man, you don't look like a cop."
"I'm actually a senior in electronic engineering, a special consultant for the police," I said truthfully.
He gave me a thumbs-up. "Damn, a young detective like Di Renjie! Our school really breeds talent."
Seeing nothing more to investigate, we left. Outside, Huang Xiaotao sneered, "Hmph, I thought you were low-key. Turns out you like showing off. Are all guys like this?"
"You got me wrong. Actually, seeing those notes gave me an idea," I said.
"What idea?" Huang Xiaotao asked.
"Let's not get distracted. Let's discuss the case. I think I already have a pretty good guess about how this all happened!" I said confidently.