Why was this happening?
Why was the same orchid pattern on the bedsheet beneath Yao Shunyu?
The pattern was uncommon. At least, Jiang Cheng had never seen it before. Besides, the fabric had the same texture, and both had been washed so many times that only a faint imprint remained.
He'd seen too much to believe in such a coincidence. Forcing himself to calm down, he zoomed in on the photo and examined the other areas. But strangely, apart from Yao Shunyu and the bed beneath him, everything else in the picture was indistinct, as if veiled in fog.
At first, Jiang Cheng had assumed it was a problem with the lighting or angle when the photo was taken. But now that he thought about it, how could that be? What kind of person was Mount Luoyun? Anyone he sent would be a professional. They wouldn't make such a basic mistake.
The longer he stared, the more intensely fear gripped him. From this unremarkable photo, he sensed something familiar. A bold guess slowly took shape in his mind: he suspected he'd been to the room where Yao Shunyu had stayed. It was... it was the same shabby inn he'd stayed in before!
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. The idea was too bizarre. If it was true, the chain reaction it would set off could be deadly. At the very least, it meant there was something wrong with Mount Luoyun, and the information he'd given Jiang Cheng was false!
Yao Shunyu hadn't died in Luojiang City at all. He'd died here, in the town at the foot of Xieming Mountain—in that run-down inn!
Following that line of thought, perhaps Li Bai hadn't gone missing, either. She could well be in this town, in that inn. But for some reason, Mount