You said you would make games by yourself, but how did you become the richest man by doing nothing?

Qin Ming's gaze was as sharp as a knife, scanning everyone, his voice low and firm: "In this situation, it's hard to imagine the other party would leave a death message, right? But here... there's a loophole."

Wang Lina's brow furrowed, as if she had already caught the key. She raised her head, her tone heavy: "...I understand. Also, you can't write blood words on the ground, because it's easy for wolves to discover and erase them."

Qin Ming nodded, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes: "That's right, unable to leave obvious information."

He paused, continuing, his voice as calm as if he were analyzing an emotionless game of chess: "However, as long as the information is written elsewhere, and then the minimum amount of traces are left to point to the real information, that's enough."

His gaze dropped slightly, staring at his palm, as if through his fingertips, he saw his mother's last struggle before death.

"Mom concealed the death message from the wolves through the position of her fingers..."

As the words fell, the air instantly solidified, and everyone held their breath. The hands that had once gently caressed her child's face, the hands that had worked hard for the family all her life, had become her last message to the world after her death.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of Qin Ming's mouth, his eyes complex: "...I didn't expect to be able to exploit the rules of the Yellow Springs Feast of Taboos in this way."

He slowly closed his eyes, as if reminiscing, or perhaps mocking himself: "I am indeed a rigid and inflexible person, who has never thought of challenging those seemingly impossible things, but my mother is different from me."

His voice trembled for a moment, but quickly returned to calm: "Even at the cost of swallowing that kind of thing, she wanted to leave a death message... Mom's obsession has broken free from its restraints."

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, looked at everyone, and said firmly: "...This is my assertion."

Silence permeated the air, like an invisible net, tightly缠绕着 everyone's throats.

Suddenly, an angry voice exploded.

"...It's you, Hua Lu!" Qin Yi suddenly stood up, his eyes bloodshot, like a beast forced into a desperate situation, staring at the girl standing beside him. "So, you were the one who killed Mom!"

Zhao Gang's face was terribly gloomy. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and growling, "We should have hanged her directly yesterday."

"It's not, it's not me!" Hua Lu's face turned pale instantly. She shook her head repeatedly, her eyes flashing with shock and unease.

Tong Xiaoliang whistled softly, his tone lazy but with a hint of danger: "Hmm... Qin Ming, it's too rash to conclude that the murderer is me and Sister Hua Lu, right?"

Hua Lu suddenly raised her head, her voice urgent: "That's right! I'm very clear that I'm not a wolf! If you say that... could there be some mistake in Madam Chen Xiang's fingers?"

Tong Xiaoliang tilted his head, a meaningful smile on the corner of his mouth: "Or the interpretation is reversed...? For example, should we count the number of fingers held?"

As soon as these words came out, everyone's faces changed instantly.

Zhao Gang's eyes suddenly sharpened, and he murmured, as if chewing on this possibility: "...If that's the case, the murderers are Wang Lina and Xiao Mie."

The air froze for a moment.

The conclusion was completely reversed—

Xiao Mie tilted her head, blinking her eyes in confusion: "Mie?"

Hua Lu stood beside her, her expression firm, her tone without hesitation: "Xiao Mie is not a wolf, and I am not a wolf."

Her gaze swept over everyone, especially lingering on Qin Ming's face, her expression calm and determined: "Since Qin Yi is human, then the remaining Wang Lina and Tong Xiaoliang must be wolves. You misunderstood Madam Chen Xiang's finger posture."

Wang Lina widened her eyes, her face turning pale all of a sudden: "W-What are you talking about!? I'm not a wolf!"

Tong Xiaoliang shrugged lazily, a meaningful smile hanging on the corner of his mouth: "Well, it feels like this statement doesn't make sense."

He turned his wrist, raised his eyes to look at Tang Yin, his eyes with a kind of scrutiny: "To be honest, shouldn't we seriously consider the possibility that Uncle Tang Yin is a wolf?"

Zhao Gang frowned, his tone low: "...Still no conclusion, Qin Ming."

Qin Ming's eyes were exceptionally firm, he slowly opened his mouth, his tone unquestionable: "There's no need to doubt, the wolves are Hua Lu and Tong Xiaoliang."

Qian Jin was silent for a moment, then asked in a low voice: "...Are there any other evidences that can strengthen the credibility of the death message?"

For a time, everyone's eyes were focused on Qin Ming.

Qin Ming did not answer immediately, but gently closed his eyes, as if organizing his thoughts. After a moment, he opened his eyes, his tone slow and steady: "...I didn't really want to say it."

His gaze fell on Tong Xiaoliang, a hint of sharpness flashing in his eyes: "But as soon as I heard about aconite poisoning, I thought of you."

Tong Xiaoliang blinked, then chuckled, his tone lazy: "...Ah, is that so."

Gao Zhijie frowned, muttering in a low voice: "Because Tong Xiaoliang is from the Qian family?"

Qian Jin's face changed slightly, silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "...Well... we did learn about the use of poisonous herbs at home..."

Qin Ming did not give them a chance to breathe, and continued: "Tang Yin, I don't know if you still remember, before you were poisoned, did you eat anything that looked like a leaf?"

Tang Yin frowned slightly, recalling the scene at that time. He had specially checked the meal, of course he remembered every ingredient. He said in a deep voice: "I remember there were only large pieces of green onion and cabbage, I didn't find anything strange."

Qin Ming nodded gently: "That's right, we also checked the leftover rice bowl you ate from afterwards, but we didn't find any aconite leaves."

He paused, his tone gradually turning cold: "In other words, the murderer should have extracted aconite poison and then poisoned you."

The air became heavy, and everyone listened intently.

Qin Ming's gaze was like a sharp blade, piercing straight through Tong Xiaoliang: "And the only ones who could think of this method are Qian Jin—and Tong Xiaoliang, who was once the heir to the Qian family and is very familiar with herbs and poisonous herbs."

A deathly silence.

Tong Xiaoliang's smile slightly subsided, his eyes so deep that people couldn't see through them.

...Indeed, last time Madam Chen Xiang tried to poison someone, she chopped the poisonous herbs into small pieces and put them directly into the bowl, but Qian Jin immediately saw through it.

And this time, the murderer was obviously more cunning and more deadly.

Tong Xiaoliang squinted slightly, still with that casual smile on his face: "Is that so? Does everyone know how to identify aconite? Anyone can think of the method of extracting aconite poison, right?"

Qin Ming did not answer immediately, but quietly stared at him, the chill in his eyes seeming to freeze the air.

Silence spread, as if an invisible string was tightened, and everyone's heartbeats slowed down involuntarily.

Finally, Qin Ming slowly opened his mouth, his voice low and calm, but with a hint of imperceptible sharpness: "...Why not directly deny it and say 'It wasn't me'?"

Tong Xiaoliang's smile stiffened slightly, then he shrugged, putting on an innocent look: "It wasn't me, really it wasn't me. Look, my arms are so thin, how could I chop up a corpse?"

Qin Ming's eyes suddenly turned cold, his tone suddenly sharp: "How do you know that Mom's body was chopped up?"

The air seemed to freeze at this moment.

Everyone's eyes suddenly focused on Tong Xiaoliang, and the atmosphere instantly became extremely heavy.

The smile on Tong Xiaoliang's face completely disappeared, his lips pursed slightly, his eyes dark and unclear, as if weighing something.

Zhao Gang clenched his fists and said in a low voice, his tone like a sentence: "...Then, it seems that the death message left by Sister Chen Xiang is indeed correct."

Hua Lu's face was as pale as paper, her voice trembling slightly: "...Xiaoliang... this isn't true, is it...?"

Tong Xiaoliang did not respond, still maintaining silence, but the silence itself had become the most terrible answer.

However, just as the air was about to freeze, a low voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Alright, let's interrupt for a moment."

Everyone turned their heads in unison to look at Tang Yin.

His gaze was steady and sharp, like a sharp scalpel, slowly dissecting the last layer of disguise hidden in this case.

"However, Qin Ming, you overlooked a very important detail."

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Qin Ming frowned slightly, his gaze falling on Tang Yin.

Tang Yin slowly scanned everyone, his voice calm and powerful: "Regarding Madam Chen Xiang's body, as just said, except for the face and hands, the whole body was covered with knife wounds."

He paused, his gaze heavy as he looked at Qin Ming: "Then, the first question—why were only the face and hands intact?"

The air fell into silence again, everyone was thinking about this question.

Tang Yin did not wait for them to answer, but continued, his tone low and steady: "Although Xiao Mei's face was unscathed, her hands were completely crushed."

Gao Zhijie's Adam's apple rolled slightly, his face a little ugly, as if he had thought of something, but did not speak.

Tang Yin took a deep breath, his tone becoming a little more serious: "If only the face is left, it's not incomprehensible. Leaving the face can better highlight the cruelty of this killing method."

His gaze slowly swept over everyone, his eyes sharp as knives: "But why specifically leave the hands?"

No one answered, everyone was just staring at him, waiting for his next words.

Tang Yin's voice became even lower: "The fingers are the easiest parts to cut off, why were they completely preserved at the scene instead?"

An invisible chill climbed up everyone's spines, as if an invisible hand was slowly tightening the throat of this reasoning.

Tang Yin's gaze slowly swept across everyone, his eyes calm, but with a hint of sharpness. The candlelight flickered slightly, reflecting his thoughtful face.

"It's like deliberately leaving a death message for us to discover."

His voice was not loud, but it was like a stone thrown into a silent lake, stirring up layers of ripples.

Qin Ming's brow furrowed slightly, as if these words had struck some secret nerve: "...Deliberately...?"

Tang Yin nodded slightly, his tone firm: "Yes, I'll state my conclusion first—Madam Chen Xiang's death message was fabricated by the wolves."

These words were like a thunderbolt, suddenly splitting open the dull atmosphere of the entire assembly hall.

"Wait, hey!" Qin Yi suddenly stood up, his eyes wide and red, his voice a little trembling from shock, "That note is indeed Mom's handwriting!"

Tang Yin's gaze calmly fell on Qin Yi, his tone still calm: "Yes, I don't deny that. Regarding Madam Chen Xiang's plan, Qin Ming didn't guess wrong—she did swallow that note last night."

He paused, and continued: "And told you in advance that if anything happened, you should take out the note, right?"

Qin Yi bit his lower lip tightly, his fists tightened slightly, and finally nodded: "...Yes, that's right."

Tang Yin sighed softly, his tone with a hint of contemplation: "There's also a loophole here. I think this kind of whisper will definitely be eavesdropped, but this is ultimately a matter of probability, so I won't delve into it..."

He raised his eyes, his gaze serious as he looked at everyone, his tone suddenly becoming sharp: "The most important thing is that according to this killing method, the deceased cannot leave a death message."

Zhao Gang's face changed slightly, and he asked in a deep voice: "...Do you mean that when attacked by a wolf, the deceased can't even move a finger?"

Tang Yin pondered for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't know, maybe yes, maybe not. But let's not dwell on this point, I have a question I want to ask Qian Jin."

Qian Jin was slightly startled, frowning: "...Me?"

"Yes." Tang Yin paused, his eyes sharp as knives, "If the wound on the inside of the arm is so deep that the bone is visible, can you still make a fist?"

As soon as these words came out, everyone gasped.

Qian Jin's expression froze instantly, his eyes flickering, as if he was quickly recalling medical knowledge to reason. After a moment, he slowly opened his mouth, his voice with a hint of certainty: "...Uh? This is absolutely... impossible!"

He raised his head, his eyes with professional calmness: "The muscles that control the first and second joints of the fingers are not connected to the palm, but on the arm."

Qin Ming's eyes shrank suddenly, the blood on his face seemed to fade away for a moment.

"Ah..." he murmured, as if he had lost his ability to speak for a moment, shocked by some incredible reasoning.

Tang Yin did not stop, his voice still calm and rational: "Even if Madam Chen Xiang had already bent her fingers before her arm was cut open, the fingers should naturally relax after the muscles were severed."

He paused, his gaze like a torch, slowly sweeping across everyone's faces: "Conversely—if she wanted to bend her fingers again after the muscles were severed, she simply couldn't do it."

The chill in the air seemed to deepen suddenly, and everyone's heartbeats involuntarily accelerated.

Qin Ming's pupils trembled slightly, his lips opened slightly, as if he had finally pieced together some crucial clue.

"...This kind of thing, ah!"

Something seemed to explode in his mind, breaking through the fog.

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes with a hint of shock and shock, his voice suddenly rising: "So that's it! No wonder the wound on the arm is facing down!"

Everyone's breathing quickened for a moment.

This discovery meant—

The "death message" they had always believed in was, in fact, a carefully designed lie!