The attempt to shift blame has failed... The prompt sound in their ears feels like a bucket of icy water poured over their heads, leaving even the two sages—each seasoned in great storms and upheavals—and the one sovereign, trembling with a sense of impending disaster. Zhao Chenghuang's face instantly pales. A failure in shifting blame means that Guan Ya, Sun Miao Miao, Tianxia Guihuo, and Hong Ji Ge—all of them—must all perish. These are his closest companions, his childhood friends, the very foundation of his future network and relationships. Zhang Yuanqing stands motionless, completely stunned. The prompt's "blame-shifting error" nearly collapses his inner resolve; all his reasoning and analyses are now overturned, rendered entirely incorrect. The outcome of a failed blame-shifting is unbearable. Guan Ya, Sun Miao Miao, Tianxia Guihuo, and even Hong Ji Ge—these are his cherished brothers and dearest friends. No matter how much he adds to the cost—it simply won't suffice! Under the overwhelming emotional impact, his mind momentarily loses its ability to think, reduced to a single, resolute thought: It's impossible! "Oh...," echoed loudly throughout the room. Just as Zhang Yuanqing and Zhao Chenghuang were sinking into despair, Dai Cai sighed deeply, raised her left hand with a serious and solemn expression—no longer displaying a single trace of casual detachment—and spoke with deliberate clarity: "I hereby declare this accusation attempt invalid!" The life of the saint is as vastly different from that of the sovereign as a beggar is from the world's wealthiest man. Yet he is a knight! A proud, upright knight! Zhang Yuanqing looked at him, nodded silently. Zhai Cai then closed his eyes and fell straight backward, becoming a corpse. This is the price of judgment! For a moment, the room fell silent. Zhang Yuanqing sat by the bedside as though drained of strength, his gaze hollow and fixed on the floor. Zhao Chenguang stood against the wall, his face stern, silent. How could it not be David? How could it not be David? The questions echoed repeatedly in Zhang Yuanqing's mind. The divination revealed the letter "d," and the wolf's vomit confirmed that Yá·Lans had been poisoned—poison so severe that even the wolf could not bear it. Yet a bottle of poison was found in David's room, the only room where such poison was discovered. Based on the findings of the on-site investigation, it is almost certain that Ya Lans died from poisoning, and the poisoning must have occurred prior to the fatal injuries to the chest and abdomen. This does not require additional clues—it is a direct result of the on-site investigation. Where is the flaw? Is it in the spirit-writing process? In the on-site investigation findings? Or is the werewolf's vomiting not due to the poison? Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts were chaotic, tangled and disordered. Time flew by swiftly; he had no idea how long it had passed. Zhao Chenguang spoke calmly, "I believe we should review the case again, rather than simply standing there. If you're thinking, if I haven't spoken, if you're immersed in the frustration of your failed suspect analysis, please consider the efforts of the knight." Zhang Yuanqing finally regained his focus and looked up, "How much time until the next sunset? I haven't been tracking the time." Zhao Chenguang spoke seriously, "Ten minutes!" "Ten minutes..." Zhang Yuanqing rubbed his face vigorously. "Including tomorrow, we have forty minutes. But if I die tonight, the case will certainly fail. So in reality, we only have ten minutes—ten minutes to deduce the true culprit. In that time, even if I die, you will be able to identify the murderer." Zhào Chénguāng, his expression heavy, nodded. "Do you have any ideas?" Zhang Yuanqing shook his head. "Not yet." Zhào Chénguāng's expression grew even more serious. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the body of Zhái Cài and said, "Now we're on our own—I can finally go to the restroom!" He raised his hand, his fingertip touching his forehead, where a pale, luminous glow emerged, spreading like water to cover his entire face, with black pigment outlining the eyes and eyebrows. In Zhào Chénguāng's vision, Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn seemed visibly more cunning and shrewd. A white-faced man! Zhang Yuanqing looked at his teammates, a slight smile playing at his lips. "This state is definitely better suited for thinking." The cunning, sly-faced white-faced one is exceptionally skilled at devising plots and excels at strategic planning through celestial observation. However, Zhang Yuanqing rarely relies on this strength, as the white-faced one is often uncooperative, lacks boundaries, and will go to any lengths to achieve his goals—fearing that he might inadvertently commit acts that would be unjustifiable even by heaven's standards. Thus, Zhang Yuanqing treats the white-faced one as a strategic enhancer, broadening his own perspective. Those adept at crafting schemes are equally skilled at uncovering them. Sitting by the bedside with one leg crossed, Zhang Yuanqing spoke in a more subdued tone: "First, let's use elimination. Among the six characters, we can completely rule out Monroe, the giant, and David, the family physician. Of the remaining four—Dong the法师, Sandy, Lorne, and Daniel—all bear suspicion. 'If David is not the killer, then all our previous assumptions must be overturned. We've clearly overlooked a crucial clue.'" Zhao Chenguang said solemnly, "We simply can't open the rooms of Sun Miaomiao and Red Chicken!" "If something crucial is missing, it must be in the rooms of the two individuals." "We don't need to worry about rooms that can't be opened—we need to use the existing clues to deduce the murderer." Zhang Yuanqing lifted a corner of his mouth. "Among the four suspects, suppose Lunn is the murderer. What would be his motive for killing Yá·Lans? Can we derive this motive from the clues we already have?" Zhao Chenghuang said, "The cannibal nature on a full moon night..." He glanced at the silver cross lying on the ground and added, "Yá·Lans is a vampire." "Is Yá·Lans a vampire?" "No!" Zhang Yuanqing's smile widened. "Therefore, we can rule out Lunn." Zhao Chenghuang nodded, agreeing with his reasoning. There is no solid evidence in Lunn's case supporting his role as the murderer—the act of consuming the castle's owner's organs occurred after her death. "Next is Daniel, whose storyline connects him to the werewolf, Lorne. On the night of the full moon, he was seen in Yá Lans's room and inflicted a fatal wound on her chest. However, in Daniel's case, there is no motive for killing Yá Lans—the wound on her chest was actually caused after her death, so Daniel is not the killer," Zhang Yuanqing said. Zhao Chenguang nodded, "Only Sindy Lans and Dong the Master remain." "Dong is the only one among the four with a clear motive for murder, and the murder weapon has already been identified. His suspicion is the highest—should David not be the killer, then Dong is responsible with over 90% probability," Zhang Yuanqing said, her legs crossed, her hand gently tapping her thigh. Her sharp, cunning face seemed to always carry a quiet, cold smile. "Then, if we assume Dong is the murderer, can we reconstruct the entire sequence of events?" "Without waiting for Zhao Chenghuang to speak, he continued analyzing: "Dong Fashi has long coveted the witch dwelling beneath the Lan's family manor, aiming to transform her into a puppet or a spiritual servant. Thus, on that night, he used the ice pen to kill Yá Lan's. Pausing for a few seconds, he suddenly brightened: "The ice pen pierced the heart and froze the wound, preventing the blood from flowing out, which explains the observed reduction in blood volume in the chest. That night happened to be a full moon, and the werewolf, being blood-thirsty, could not endure its restlessness. It therefore regarded the manor's owner as its quarry. With the werewolf's sudden arrival, Dong Fashi was unable to make a timely follow-up strike and had to leave the scene. The werewolf entered Yá Lan's room, discovered her lifeless body, and gladly began feeding on her. The warrior-mage Daniel arrived upon hearing the commotion and drove the werewolf away." "Then, why did Daniel strike the manor's owner with a sword?" "There are too many possibilities. Perhaps Yá·Lans, whose heart was frozen, did not die completely, and even as she was being devoured, she still held on. Thus, Daniel delivered a decisive blow, piercing her heart with his great sword and shattering the ice pen." "Somewhat plausible...," Zhao Chenghuang frowned, "but I still feel something's off." "Where?" "Maybe it's simply a matter of preconception. I remember you saying that Dong Fashi was dispatched to Lans Castle only after receiving a distress message from Yá·Lans. Prior to that, the castle's owner often heard cat calls in the dead of night, signaling that the underground seal was loosening and the witch gradually awakening. But according to your reasoning, Dong Fashi is the true culprit—there seems to be a chronological inconsistency." Zhao Chenghuang paused, then suddenly raised an eyebrow. "Why did the werewolf vomit? If the castle's owner died from the ice pen, how could the werewolf have regurgitated the meat he had eaten?" Zhang Yuanqing remained silent, his pale, sullen, and cunning face now still and expressionless. This was precisely why his sense of conviction had previously collapsed—the only way to reconcile all the clues was if the castle's lord had died from poison. If David were not the murderer, many phenomena remained unexplained, and the investigation stalled. After a brief silence, he said, "David is not the murderer. Our earlier attempt to identify him as the killer has already proven that the lord did not die from poisoning. The werewolf's vomiting must therefore have another explanation—perhaps it was wounded by the archmage Daniel at that time." Zhao Chenghuang seemed to have an idea forming, his expression growing serious. "I have a way to confirm whether the lord indeed died from poison." Time was limited, so he quickly stepped out of the foul-smelling room and ascended to the second floor, returning to Ya Lans's room. Zhao Chenghuang paused before the body, bent down, and deeply inhaled, vigorously smelling the slightly decaying corpse. Zhang Yuanqing, following behind, felt a sudden spark of recognition. The werewolf's ability? Zhao Chenghuang inhaled for several seconds, then rose silently and stepped out of the room, making his way to the room of Tianxia Guihuo. He passed by the body of Tianxia Guihuo, picked up the small ceramic jar placed on the desk, lifted the lid, and deeply sniffed. Holding the jar, Zhao Chenghuang remained motionless for over ten seconds, then turned and spoke in a tone both solemn and strangely unusual: "This case is more complex than we imagined... There's the scent of the liquid from the ceramic jar on Lady Yan's body—she was poisoned. She was murdered by poison." Zhang Yuanqing's usually sullen and cunning face suddenly showed a rare spark of anger: "If she was poisoned, we should have left this place long ago. The poison acts immediately, sealing the victim's throat upon contact—how could both David's poison and Dong Fashi's ice pen have killed Lady Yan simultaneously? Did they plan this together? Or did Dong Fashi steal David's poison, using it first, then the ice pen?" Gosh, the two characters have absolutely no connection—then the castle mystery is playing us for fools! "And if poison was used, why bother with the ice pen? It'd be pointless, like wearing pants while peeing." The discovery that Lady Lans died of poisoning once again sends Zhang Yuanqing into a state of emotional turmoil. At this moment, Zhao Chenguang spoke with a strange expression on his face: "The world is being consumed by fire—this is what vampires are all about!"