"Even though you're my fan, this is a game, and I can't be sure whether the production team will use some tricks to lower my guard." Just as William Carter expected, James Turner was coming up with the kind of excuse that would make it least likely for the audience to criticize him for abandoning William Carter. But even if the audience really was dissatisfied, it didn't matter, because he truly didn't want to be tied together with William Carter. "If you're the killer, then I'd just be helping the villain."

But what if you are? William Carter originally wanted to ask him this, but he held back before speaking, because such a direct question would clash with his harmless persona.

There's really no helping it.

After mentally preparing himself, James Turner turned around openly, but the moment he took a step, his calf was hooked by a foot.

"Don't go."

Turning back, William Carter, sitting in the chair, was looking into his eyes. James Turner found it extremely strange—clearly this was such a cunning person, yet these eyes could always show the purest, most disarming innocence.

"Zi Heng, form an alliance with me. I'll help you win unconditionally." William Carter smiled, his expression so confident that he didn't look like someone asking for help at all, but rather like a negotiator holding the best cards.

"Really? But in a game like this..." James Turner raised an eyebrow at him. "The rule for winning is to trust no one."

Pretty smart, William Carter laughed.

"I'm not asking you to trust me." In his eyes, dark as an abyss, there was a sweet and tempting glint. "I'm asking you to use me."

Author's note: William Carter: This kid is just too pure, my□□ technique is completely ineffective.

James Turner: Actually, not completely... [whispering bb

Chapter 8 Mirror and Notes

When James Turner knelt on one knee to untie the rope around William Carter's legs, he himself didn't know what was going on—why he was being swayed by this person, why he wavered and agreed to his request.

None of it made sense.

Maybe it was because they were filming a show. He'd already asked for help, and refusing again would seem a bit much. James Turner gave himself this excuse.

"Thank you." William Carter's tone sounded quite cheerful, even though his hands were still cuffed. He stood up from the chair, toes touching the floor as he flexed his ankles, and turned his head to look around the room. James Turner, meanwhile, took down all the white cloths covering things in the room and put them in a corner.

The room wasn't very big, but judging by the furnishings, it was a rather tasteful study. The door they cared about most had a combination lock; entering the correct four-digit code on the touchscreen would open it.

The walls were covered in light brown wallpaper with dark patterns, and several paintings hung on them. There was also an oval mirror with a wooden frame, and to the right of the mirror stood a rosewood cabinet against the wall, on top of which sat a phonograph with a vinyl record.

None of these were William Carter's focus. He carefully searched for the locations of the cameras in the room. After all, this was a reality show, and all the puzzles were set up in advance, so there had to be cameras set up to capture close-ups of the solving process.

After roughly counting the cameras, William Carter had a much clearer idea. His professional instincts made him look at the paintings on the wall, and James Turner followed, but he was checking behind the paintings for clues.

"What do you think of this painting?"

Hearing William Carter's voice, James Turner's hand paused on the frame. Art had never been his forte. Even though he'd acted since childhood, there was still a big gap between visual art and performing art.

"I'm not very familiar with these," James Turner answered honestly.

William Carter smiled. "This is a painting by Goya, 'The Clothed Maja.' There's actually a very interesting story behind it."

James Turner put the painting back and glanced at him. He actually wasn't interested in the story William Carter was about to tell, but then remembered they were filming, and staying silent wouldn't look good, so he reluctantly replied, "What story?"

"In eighteenth-century Spain, due to historical reasons, the country was shrouded in puritanism, and no artwork was allowed to depict nudity. The only exception, 'Venus at her Mirror,' was spared punishment only under the king's protection." William Carter reached out with his still-cuffed hand and gently touched the edge of the frame. James Turner looked in confusion at the woman lying on the dark green velvet couch in the painting. She was wearing a sheer white gown, and a rose-colored wide belt at her waist accentuated her soft curves.

"She's wearing..."

William Carter's hand paused, his eyes glancing at James Turner, the corners of his beautiful eyes lifting slightly. "She actually wasn't wearing anything. Legend has it that this woman was a favored mistress of a Spanish noble, and Goya was commissioned to paint her full portrait," as he spoke, William Carter suddenly chuckled, "but he was so captivated by her beauty that he painted a nude portrait. When the secret got out, the noble was furious, so to calm him down, Goya painted an identical 'Clothed Maja.' In the end, both paintings were taken away."