wjnovel Chapter 722 includes a death scene!
Chapter 722 includes a death scene!
We arrived at the resort just after 2 p.m.
Greyridge Lodge is prettier and older than in the photos. Not dilapidated, but the kind of old that has been carefully maintained for many years: the edges of the stone steps have been worn smooth by countless footsteps, the brass doorknobs have a warm sheen from years of handling, and although the fireplace in the foyer is not lit, the scent of wood and pine lingers. The reception desk is small, and behind it stands a female manager in her thirties with a name tag that reads "Elena." Her voice is low and even, as if nothing here is surprising.
“Mr. Lynn, Ms. Gwen, welcome.” She handed them their room keys. “You have booked a double suite in the East Wing, facing the lake and the treeline, with excellent privacy. Dinner starts at seven o’clock, and if you would like to go horseback riding, the stables will accept the last group of guests before four o’clock. The rooftop pool is open until ten o’clock at night, but it may close earlier if it gets a bit windy today.”
Gwen took the room key, and her first reaction wasn't to look at the room number, but to look up and ask: "Is the rooftop pool really the same as in the photos?"
Elena smiled and said, "Photos usually only show the most photogenic angle, but the pool itself is really nice."
"That's good," Gwen said. "Otherwise, I would have been very disappointed."
"Then we'll try our best not to disappoint you."
On her way upstairs, Gwen glanced around. There weren't many customers, at least not on the surface. In a corner of the lobby sat a middle-aged couple; the man was reading a newspaper, and the woman was flipping through a gardening magazine. By the window, an elderly woman was drinking tea alone; her silver hair was neatly combed, and a blanket was draped over her lap. Further away in the lounge area, a young man in his late twenties was talking to a waiter. He wore a dark green softshell jacket, had a handsome face, but carried an inexplicable air of frivolity and sophistication—the kind of person who would make a first impression of being "easy to get along with."
Lynn glanced at it only once before looking away.
Gwen nudged him with her elbow: "Did you see that one in the green coat?"
"I saw it."
"Doesn't it seem like he'll die in the second chapter, or cause the death of someone else?"
Lynn turned her head to look at her.
Gwen said seriously, "I'm pretty good at judging shows and people."
"Is the first thing you do on vacation to arrange for strangers to die?"
“Because the place is so beautiful,” Gwen said. “In such a beautiful place, someone has to die to match the atmosphere.”
"You've caught Jason's infection."
"Don't blame it on others." Gwen swiped the door open, went in first, and then whistled softly.
The room was indeed very nice.
The two suites in the east wing were larger than I'd imagined, with a floor-to-ceiling window facing the lake and mountains. The afternoon sun streamed in, warming the wooden floors. Between the two beds was a small living area with a real fireplace and a small basket of pine firewood beside it. The balcony was spacious enough to even fit a double chaise lounge and a small round table. The bathroom featured stone and dark brass finishes, and a separate bathtub by the window. Gwen tossed her bag onto the bed, spun around, and announced bluntly, "I forgive you for standing me up twice out of the last three times."
"What about the last time?"
"Let's see if you can let me ride a horse that isn't too bad-tempered today."
"The requirements are not low."
"I never said you were easily forgiven."
They packed up quickly, changed into lighter clothes, and went downstairs to check on the horses.
The stables were a little behind the main building, accessible via a gravel path, passing a glass greenhouse and a neatly manicured herb garden. The air smelled of grass and damp wood, and the sound of someone chopping wood drifted intermittently from afar. The stable manager, a tall Black man around forty years old named Harold, was a man of few words, but clearly knowledgeable about horses. After listening to Gwen say that he "knew a little, but wasn't particularly knowledgeable," he glanced at her twice, picked out a chestnut mare for her, and said, "This one's named Julie. She's good-tempered, stubborn, but not bad. Don't rush things; she won't argue with you."
When Gwen led the chestnut horse, her expression was noticeably relaxed, and even her shoulders seemed a little lower than usual.
Lynn looked at her and suddenly remembered that she actually loved riding horses when she was a child.
She wasn't one of those kids from families with the means to study long-term; she was someone you'd only run into once during an outdoor activity or summer camp, and then she'd go home and study for ages. When she was thirteen, she once said to him in all seriousness, "When I'm rich someday, I'm going to buy a huge piece of land and raise two horses, one for me and one for you. You don't seem really suited to this kind of gentle activity, but with some practice, you might be able to do it."
Lynn replied to her, "Why don't you pass your math exam first?"
Gwen was indignant: "These two things are not causally related."
Looking back now, it's been so many years.
They walked slowly along the horse trail for almost an hour.
There were specially maintained forest trails outside the villa, with dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. The lake could be seen in the distance, and occasionally birds would be startled and taken flight from the deeper woods. Gwen was initially a little cautious, but she soon relaxed completely, even turning back to smile at him from ahead: "See, I told you, she's easier to get along with than me."
"At least she doesn't deliberately talk nonsense."
"You're just jealous."
"I do not have."
You have a little bit.
Lynn didn't respond to that, but simply lifted the reins slightly, guiding the gray horse around a section of wet, muddy ground in the middle of the road. Gwen watched his movements and suddenly said, "You do look like you know how to ride."
"I've practiced before."
"Because of work?"
"Because there's always a period of time when I have to learn things that can be used in strange places."
Gwen paused for a moment, then nodded without pressing further, saying, "So, can I say that I'm finally enjoying the positive uses of your strange skills?"
"Calculate."
"Good," she said with a smile. "Keep it up."
That evening, the resort truly gave them the first day of a holiday.
Dinner was excellent, not in an extravagant way, but with solid ingredients and perfect cooking time. Gwen ordered a mushroom risotto and then casually snatched two pieces of roasted venison from Lynn's plate. The restaurant was warmly lit, and outside, the sky was gradually darkening. There weren't many guests in the manor; the soft clinking of glasses and occasional hushed conversations from the fireplace could be heard. The middle-aged couple was still there, drinking red wine; the young man in the green coat from the afternoon had changed into a dark sweater and was sitting in a corner with another young woman, eating dessert.
The woman was beautiful, with a sharp, almost piercing beauty. She had black hair, fair skin, and a sharply defined jawline. Delicate silver ornaments adorned her earlobes. She gestured little when speaking, but each time she glanced up, it was as if she were assessing whether the person opposite her deserved even a second's attention. Her attire was understated: a dark blue silk blouse under a light gray shawl. She exuded a relaxed air, as if she had long been accustomed to the stares and reactions of others.
Gwen glanced at her and whispered, "That woman doesn't seem to be here on vacation."
"What do you mean by not looking like you're on vacation?"
“It’s the way she looks at everyone around her, not like she’s admiring the scenery.” Gwen cut the fish on her plate. “It’s more like she’s watching who will bid, who will lie, and who is eavesdropping.”
"You see, people are very busy."
“Likewise.” Gwen looked up at him. “You’ve scanned everyone here since you walked in, Agent Lynn.”
Lynn did not deny it.
Gwen laughed and said, "I knew it." After dinner, they actually went to the rooftop pool.
The main building of the resort has six floors. The top floor isn't an enclosed entertainment area, but rather a semi-open-air platform. One side has a glass-roofed greenhouse-style lounge, and the other side has a rectangular, heated swimming pool that extends outwards. At night, when the wind is strong, a portion of the movable glass cover is raised above the pool, but that night the wind wasn't too strong, so the roof was open. The water shimmered a pale blue under the lights, and the distant mountain line had already sunk into darkness, leaving only a faint glimmer of light on the lake. There were only a few people on the platform, besides an elderly woman reading a book in a corner, and the beautiful woman from the restaurant earlier, who was leaning against the poolside drinking a glass of clear liquid—it was unclear whether it was water or something else.
Gwen changed into her swimsuit, put on a bathrobe, and came out. She stood by the glass and looked out for a while before saying, "Okay, I take back all my doubts about the photos from the daytime. It really is beautiful here."
"Satisfied?"
"Barely." She took off her bathrobe and tossed it onto the lounge chair. "I'm going to come again tomorrow morning. The mountaintop pool is definitely more beautiful in the early morning than at night."
"Are you able to get up?"
"Who are you looking down on?"
"You've succeeded twice out of your past ten morning wake-up plans."
“That’s because none of the past ten times have I’ve been to a place that feels like a vacation.” Gwen said, then went straight into the water.
She wasn't a professional swimmer, but she swam lightly, her movements carrying a long-lost sense of ease. Lynn didn't go into the water; she just sat by the pool, watching her swim back and forth a few times, then float on her back, her hair spread out, as if she had finally left the city, the case, and a bunch of messy things far behind for half the night.
As the beautiful woman left, she glanced at Lynn briefly as she passed by, as if recognizing him as more than just an ordinary tourist lost in thought. She said nothing, simply placing her empty cup on the tray and walking away with almost no sound.
Lynn glanced subconsciously in the direction she had left.
There was a door at the other end of the glass lounge leading to the indoor corridor. It opened and closed, and the light outside flickered for a moment before disappearing from sight.
"What are you looking at?" Gwen asked, having already swum back to the pool edge and clinging to the waterline.
"nothing."
"What you're saying usually means 'There's something, but I don't want to talk about it right now.'"
"I'm checking when that door will close."
Gwen followed his gaze and suddenly realized, "Oh, that pretty lady. She definitely doesn't look like she's on vacation, I just said that."
"Are you really planning to write a side story for everyone?"
“Of course.” Gwen brushed her hair back with her hand. “That guy in the green sweater looks like the type who would strike up a conversation at a bar and then pretend he never saw the person the next day. That pretty lady was either there to talk business or to dump someone. And that old lady who was sitting there reading a book, she might have killed someone when she was young.”
Lynn finally smiled.
When Gwen saw him smile, she immediately became very proud: "See, I made you laugh."
That's true.
“A rare achievement.” She rested her chin on the back of her hand, leaning over the edge of the pool to look at him. “So are you feeling better now?”
Lynn paused.
Gwen sometimes judges people more directly than he thinks.
"I'm feeling a bit better," he said.
Gwen nodded. This was enough. She didn't say anything more, just turned and swam back to the middle of the pool. The water's surface was cut into several shallow, bright ripples by the lights. The wind blew in from the other side of the mountain, carrying a chill and the scent of pine needles. At that moment, everything was ordinary, so ordinary that it was easy to mistakenly assume that the next day would continue in the same way.
But it didn't happen the next day.
Gwen woke up first the next morning.
Lynn heard her make a slight noise when she got out of bed around 6:30. Without opening her eyes, she heard her rustling as she rummaged through her clothes. Then she lowered her voice and said, "You keep sleeping. I'm going to swim on the rooftop for a while. I'll come back and call you for breakfast."
Lynn only hummed in response while half-awake.
Gwen had already reached the door, but after thinking for a moment, she turned back and added, "Don't pretend, you heard me. If I really don't come back, at least you'll know where to get me."
"Shut up." Lynn didn't even open her eyes.
Gwen chuckled and gently closed the door.
This should have been just an ordinary morning.
But when Lynn later recalled it, the first thing she remembered was not the sound of the door opening, but the shrill sound of the room phone ringing at 7:03.
He woke up almost instantly.
He had already sat up when the phone rang for the second time, and reached out to answer it on the third ring.
“Mr. Lynn.” It was Elena, the receptionist, whose voice was lower and tighter than yesterday. “I’m sorry to bother you so early. Did Miss Gwen go to the rooftop pool?”
Lynn felt as if something had suddenly sank into her heart.
"Yes. What's wrong?"
There was a half-second pause on the other end of the phone.
“There’s been an accident on the top floor,” Elena said. “Please come up here immediately.”
Lynn reached the top floor so fast it was as if she hadn't taken the elevator, but rather torn the floors apart along the way.
The elevator doors opened, releasing a blast of cold air and an unnervingly quiet atmosphere. Guards were already stationed at the platform entrance; both security personnel from the two resorts looked rather grim, and a young waiter stood pale-faced by the glass door. Elena was also there, her usual composure cracking under the pressure. Upon seeing Lynn, she immediately approached him: "Mr. Lynn—"
"Where is Gwen?" Lynn interrupted her.
Elena raised her hand and pointed inward.
Lynn spotted it immediately.
Gwen stood on the water's edge on the west side of the outdoor pool, still draped in the light-colored bathrobe from the previous night. Her hair was wet, but her face was even paler than the bathrobe. About half a meter away from her, at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, lay a woman.
To be precise, it was a woman's corpse lying there.
Her dark blue swimsuit appeared even darker from the water, her long hair was disheveled, and one hand still rested on the poolside, her fingers slightly curled from the strain. Half of her face was submerged, the other half exposed, white as porcelain. Near her ear on her neck was a very thin yet remarkably clean dark wound. The wound wasn't large, but it was enough to be fatal. A faint layer of red had spread in the pool water, the constant temperature of the water and the morning breeze thinning the color to almost an illusion. (End of Chapter)