Author: 长洱 / Chang’er
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Naturally, a private home recording studio was different from a regular recording studio, but with Song Shengsheng’s decent income, the equipment he could afford was quite good. Though the recording studio wasn’t large, it actually had everything it needed.
There was a thick layer of carpet on the ground, and the walls were professionally soundproofed with noise-absorbing sponges. Because of the need for quiet, there were no windows. A wall separated the recording studio into two parts: the studio and the control room.
The air was turbid, and the floor outside was full of things that were knocked down by Wang Chao. There were two chairs and some large musical instruments stacked on them. They look scattered and seem to have no use.
As a result, the outside looked extremely chaotic. It was a far cry from Song Shengsheng’s clean and tidy living room and bedroom. Nine years later, the smell of smoke still lingered, and there were still obvious traces left by heavy instruments on the walls and floors.
Lin Chen withdrew his gaze from the wall and looked through the glass window of the control room to the studio.
The scene inside the room was completely different from the outside. The studio was very clean and tidy. There was even a microphone stand in the corner. The music stand was neatly arranged in a row.
Xing Conglian nodded to him, twisted the doorknob, and walked into the studio.
Lin Chen was still standing in the control room. He turned around and continued to observe the rest of the room. Finally, his gaze fell to the back wall of the recording studio.
There were two certificate-like objects hanging in the frame on the back wall, and then in the corner next to the frame, there were two dark gray, semi-open lockers.
The lockers were about one person tall, and there were several baskets in the lower part that weren’t covered by the cabinet door. Lin Chen walked over and moved one of them out.
He found that there were small musical instruments in the baskets, such as maracas, triangles, and the like. There were corresponding labels on each basket. Although a long time had passed and the musical instruments were dusty, the labels were faded, and the handwriting was blurred, Lin Chen could still feel Song Shengsheng’s careful attitude towards these piecemeal instruments.
Then he looked at a pile of things in the corner of the room.
Whether it was a guitar with broken strings, a dilapidated bass, or even things like drum parts, those large musical instruments were thrown randomly at the corner, as if Song Shengsheng suddenly had a split personality, resulting in two different attitudes.
Lin Chen put the basket back in its original position, stood up, and opened the cabinet door.
The moment he opened the cabinet, his hand rested on the handle for a long time.
He thought this was probably what he was looking for.
Rather, it wasn’t correct to say that because what he wanted wasn’t behind the door.
Footsteps sounded from the studio and stopped beside him. Lin Chen felt a hand on his shoulder.
Xing Conglian didn’t say anything. He just put on his gloves, gently brushed the dividers in the cabinet, and said, “Lu Xu’s brother took some CDs from here?”
“Most likely,” Lin Chen replied lightly.
There were three layers of CDs neatly stacked behind the cabinet door. Lin Chen’s eyes moved to the bottom layer, which was empty.
For people who collected books, they should understand that when a certain cabinet became suddenly emptied after being filled with books for so long, the place where the books were taken would be obviously brighter than other places. So what Xing Conglian brushed over was the light-dark boundary of what was missing.
The CDs on the bottom layer had obviously been cleaned up, and the person who did this was most likely Lu Xu’s brother.
Xing Conglian’s finger fell on the label on the side of the cabinet door. He read softly, “From 2003 to…”
There was nothing after “to” because nothing was written on the label.
“2003–2007,” Lin Chen continued.
After he finished speaking, he took down a CD from the top shelf and opened it. The label on the CD shows: “2000.1.3, snow, garbage.”
“Wang Chao?” Lin Chen turned his head and shouted softly.
“Here!” The teenager stood up straight and shouted back in response.
“Can you put this CD in?” Lin Chen handed it over.
Wang Chao snapped his fingers, fiddled with Song Shengsheng’s equipment for a while, and then a singing voice immediately flowed through a pair of high-end speakers.
Although the singing voice sounded distant and ethereal, Lin Chen confirmed that it was Song Shengsheng’s song the moment he heard it.
After all, Song Shengsheng’s voice was truly unique.
Of course, Li Jingtian was a good singer, but he couldn’t match Song Shengsheng. Lin Chen didn’t know whether it was because of temperament or something else that made the difference between them.
Although on this CD, Song Shengsheng seemed to be humming casually, the moment his voice appeared, it seemed to light up the entire room.
Such a metaphor might sound exaggerated, but the moment the singing reached Lin Chen’s ear, he suddenly felt very happy, as if all sadness, melancholy, and bittersweetness had been erased, leaving only pure bliss.
Listening to Song Shengsheng gently humming, Lin Chen looked at the dark gray cabinet in front of him again.
If the CDs contained Song Shengsheng’s songs, then the three-tier cabinets should be regarded as music samples or other music materials that Song Shengsheng made during the five years he was active. There were no years following “2003-“.
So 2007 should be the time of the unfilled label.
If this was ten years ago, this cabinet of things would probably be a treasure fans would flock to in droves. Singers and musicians might even fight for any songs in this cabinet.
But now, ten years later, the CDs were worthless. Except for those fans still checking in on Song Shengsheng’s personal website, no one would take a second look at these demos.
Those neat plastic CD cases were shining under the light, and the things in the box could be rare treasures or garbage. The value of music depended on Song Shengsheng’s reputation. Thinking of this, Lin Chen felt all this was still a bit absurd.
“CA Entertainment sent someone to take away some of Song Shengsheng’s demos, but they didn’t take them all. They still left some. Why?” Xing Conglian questioned.
Lin Chen replied, “There could be many reasons. For example, if they take these demos, they can replace the music made by Song Shengsheng with someone else’s name. Of course, that’s a business motive. But it’s also possible that Song Shengsheng’s demos recorded something unspeakable, so after CA found out, they had to send someone to steal it.”
“I don’t get it!” Wang Chao said.
“It’s normal for you not to understand, because I don’t understand it very well either.” Lin Chen took a deep breath.
Perhaps it was because the singing floating in the dust was so soothing that Lin Chen couldn’t help but close his eyes. Song Shengsheng slowly appeared in his mind, and he began to imagine him wandering in this recording studio.
Song Shengsheng would sometimes lean in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his bedroom to write songs. If he felt that his new writing was good, he may rush into the recording studio in his pajamas to make a demo. Sometimes he would feel dissatisfied with his work, so he would turn on the table lamp and take out a pen to make some changes to the music score. Among them, the things that satisfied him or had the most commercial value would be included in the album for his fans, while the rest of the music would be thrown into this cabinet and shelved.
Occasionally, during special times, he would take out a CD from the cabinet and listen to it, then ignore it for a long time. This kind of Song Shengsheng was the one that fans would never see, but was absolutely the real him.
Lin Chen thought, ‘If music can really guide people, then this wonderful music now—tell me. What exactly am I looking for? How exactly should I turn over this case? Please tell me.’
At that moment, the recording studio became quiet. There were no sounds; the music and vocals stopped.
Lin Chen opened his eyes. The blue fluorescent characters on the CD player were still jumping, indicating the CD was still playing.
Then, he heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Someone walked into the room and was talking to Song Shengsheng about tomorrow’s itinerary. Song Shengsheng was a little angry. He said he was recording and asked the other person to get lost. After the other party apologized, they left.
That person who entered was probably Song Shengsheng’s manager…
There was a long blank period before the sound of a door opening and closing sounded. Song Shengsheng walked back to the studio and took something out. After some subtle tuning, a pleasant guitar sound emerged. Song Shengsheng began to accompany himself and continued humming the tune of the previous song.
After that, a beautiful piece of music was played, which could be considered a finished product. At least Lin Chen couldn’t tell the difference.
Accompanied by Song Shengsheng’s song, he once again looked at the pile of broken musical instruments in the corner.
The old musical instruments were illuminated by a very dim light.
Lin Chen suddenly understood something. He searched stiffly for Wang Chao and then said, with difficulty, “Among the materials you compiled for me, has any media reported that Li Jingtian has been to Song Shengsheng’s house?”
“I… I don’t seem to have seen such a report… but…” Wang Chao paused, as if he wanted to stop talking.
“This large community used to house many artists under CA Entertainment, and CA’s staff apartments are here too, including Li Jingtian’s and Mu Zhuo’s dorms.”
“So it was very likely that Li Jingtian would often go in and out of Song Shengsheng’s home that year and it wouldn’t be suspicious, right?”
Wang Chao nodded vigorously.
Lin Chen leaned back, propped up the mixer, and looked inside through the glass.
The floors were log-colored, and a microphone stand stood on them. In addition, it was clean without a speck of dust…
Despite their investigation into this case until now, Lin Chen suddenly had the urge not to continue, as if he had gone completely crazy.
Xing Conglian instantly noticed his abnormality and held his hand to give some reassurance.
“Wang Chao.” Lin Chen tried to control his voice so that it wouldn’t tremble too much.
“A’Chen Gege, tell me what you want.”
“Bring your laptop and play a song.”
“Last night, the song we listened to in the car. The one sung by Li Jingtian and Mu Zhuo; Illi’s most famous single.”
Wang Chao was stunned and didn’t know why Lin Chen had requested this.
Xing Conglian yelled at him, “Go!”
The teenager rushed out like the wind. Song Shengsheng’s singing suddenly stopped, and after a while, the voices of Li Jingtian and Mu Zhuo sounded.
Mu Zhuo was singing in a low voice, while Li Jingtian was backing him. The music was melodious and gentle. After a few seconds, the style suddenly turned, and unbearable screams sounded; agonizing, depressing, and desperate. It was such a realistic scream that it made people no longer believe that there could be any bright screams in the world. Among those screams, there were men, women, old and young, mixed in, as if all the malice in the world instantly poured out leaving only pain.
Tears welled and fell from Lin Chen’s eyes.
Lin Chen felt someone gently rubbing his cheek with his finger. He looked up and saw the worried, dark green eyes of Xing Conglian.
Lin Chen responded, “Among those screams, there are voices that belong to Song Shengsheng. Li Jingtian mixed Song Shengsheng’s scream into his own song and played them to the world.”
This arc… is really tough to get through.
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3 thoughts on “Criminal Psychology Ch139”
he’s sick, seriously sick
Yeah and he should just die.
this arc is too heavy that im about to go and punch li jingtian with my own hands