Writing a novel like 'Helen' truly didn't require much brainpower, and Elena wrote swiftly. By the time Elizabeth returned from her visit, she had just finished this month's manuscript.
Apart from the scene where Helen meets the male lead, there was naturally a group appearance. The family consisted of five members in total: the titled Earl, his two daughters, one son (the male lead), and notably, the Countess was absent. Strangely, both daughters were unmarried, yet two sons-in-law lived with them. This time, they had traveled from afar for the sole purpose of finding a wife for their only son.
At first glance, the entire family was extraordinarily beautiful, with skin as pale as snow. They always carried black umbrellas and wore mostly black garments, starkly contrasting with ordinary humans. Upon first meeting them, nobles couldn't help but marvel: "If their children inherited such beauty, that would be understandable. But for even the sons-in-law to look like this—how odd is that?"
Even more baffling was the fact that this family avoided all events involving physical activity—be it fox hunting, horse racing, or even ballroom dancing, they never participated. This was particularly surprising considering their stated goal of matchmaking.
Though merely an earl, their wealth was the envy of many. The paintings hanging in their manor were from famous artists of the previous century, and antiques could be seen everywhere. While the countess's absence only fueled rumors of her "mysterious disappearance," nobles still eagerly sent invitations to their events.
After all, balls were key occasions for aristocrats to socialize and seek out romantic prospects, with dancing playing a crucial role. Physical closeness—holding hands, placing a hand on a waist—often acted as a catalyst for budding romance. Many noble sons and daughters developed subtle affections through these graceful dances.
But if they didn't dance, how were they supposed to find a match? Just... talk?
Apparently not, as they seemed uninterested in chatting either. Apart from the Earl and Countess, the rest of the family were so introverted that after the opening dance (which they performed with each other), they would disappear, becoming impossible to find—let alone converse with.
Their behavior left everyone confused: were they really here to arrange a marriage?
As for Helen, she was actually quite thankful for the attention the mysterious Rhine family drew. When her birth parents publicly revealed that she was adopted, the pitying and judgmental stares from others pierced her like arrows, filling her with shame. But now, all those eyes were focused on the enigmatic Rhines. Her own troubles, like pebbles tossed into a lake, sank quietly without leaving a ripple.
Still, gratitude aside, the earlier carriage incident had left Helen suspicious of the male lead. At the ball, she paid closer attention to the peculiarities of the Rhine family. During one of their hosted banquets, Helen accidentally dropped a wine glass. Normally, a servant would rush over to clean up, but their staff was few and very busy—yes, even their number of servants was strangely low—so none came right away. Concerned that someone might get hurt, kind-hearted Helen wrapped the glass shards in her handkerchief to hand over later.
In doing so, her finger got cut. It was just a minor wound, not usually worth noticing. But the moment her blood hit the floor, the Earl's expression changed dramatically. Claiming urgent business, he hurried upstairs and never returned for the rest of the evening—a serious breach of etiquette for a host.
While searching for bandages—her handkerchief was now filled with glass—Helen couldn't forget the look on the Earl's face. She looked down at her wound, and a long-dismissed rumor resurfaced in her mind: the tale of the Rhine nobles sipping blood-colored wine from crystal goblets in their eerie castle.
Elena paused her writing and roughly gauged the word count. It seemed just about right. She let out a breath, stretched, and set the manuscript aside to dry. Once the ink was no longer wet, she carefully folded the pages, slipped them into an ornate envelope, and sealed it with wax.
Just then, Janette entered the room. "El, you done? Liz and the others should be back today. Want to go out for a stroll? You've been cooped up for days—you really should get some fresh air on the lawn."
"Yes, I'm done," Elena replied at once, genuinely excited by the thought of going out. She hadn't stepped outside for days while rushing her manuscript. Now was the perfect time to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air.
She returned to her bedroom to change into a walking dress. Designed for easy movement, these dresses were shorter and more simply adorned. She picked a pale green floral print, grabbed her parasol, donned her hat, and walked out to the lawn with Janette.
They followed the road, though not directly on it—just in case the returning carriages came by—they walked alongside it on the grassy verge. The sun filtered through scattered clouds, casting dappled light across the gently swaying grasses. A breeze rustled the leaves, and wildflowers dotted the landscape like a natural tapestry.
The estate wasn't far from the village. In the distance, they could see a winding river shimmering under the sun. On the opposite bank stood a dense forest, its shadows dancing, completing a picturesque countryside scene.
"This place is perfect for sketching," Janette remarked. "I'm already itching to bring out my easel."
"You're right," Elena smiled, inhaling deeply. "No wonder romantic stories set in country manors always have the heroine sketching in the garden when a handsome gentleman 'just happens' to find her."
Janette suspected Elena was teasing her—but she had no proof.
As they strolled along peacefully, they heard hoofbeats and wheels approaching. Several carriages came into view. Elena and Janette quickly stepped aside to avoid the dust. One carriage slowed and came to a stop. The door opened, and Elizabeth stepped out, calling cheerfully, "Wow, what a coincidence running into you two here!"
She linked arms with Elena. "El, you won't believe it! Those detective games you made? The girls were obsessed!"
During her short visit, the host's daughters had played the detective games nonstop. No surprise—they had to make the most of it while Elizabeth was still around. Once she left, there'd be no one to facilitate the game.
They even tried role-playing in advance. Originally, the servants would act out the roles, but all four girls wanted to be detectives. With too many sleuths, someone volunteered to play the witness instead.
As for the suspects—well, no one wanted that job. Too many lines to memorize.
"The girl playing the witness had zero acting skills," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "Compared to the trained servants, she was just reciting lines. They clearly need a pro like you to guide their performances!"
Since all four girls were hooked on this obscure little game, even their parents took notice. The Earl and Countess weren't particularly interested, but their older brother—just like Simon—was intrigued and wanted to try it himself.
But with too many detectives already, his sisters flatly rejected him. Confidently, he declared that such a simple game couldn't be that hard—he'd write one himself.
"What happened next?" Janette asked eagerly. "Did he actually write it?"
Elizabeth smirked. "Easier said than done! He spent days racking his brain and finally produced a draft. We tried playing it—and guess what? Before we even finished, we hit a major plot hole. Why was that person the killer? He couldn't explain it."
Janette burst into laughter, but then looked a bit worried. "Did he get upset when you pointed it out?"
"Not at all." In fact, the sisters let him play detective as a reward for his effort.
Before leaving this morning, their hosts were reluctant to say goodbye and begged Elizabeth to stay longer. They even suggested keeping the servants temporarily to transcribe the entire game script, so they could continue enjoying it with future guests.
The game had become a brilliant icebreaker, helping people bond during shared play.
"But I didn't give them an answer right away," Elizabeth turned to Elena. "It's your creation, after all. Would you be willing to teach them?"
Elena smiled without hesitation. "Of course! I made the game so everyone could enjoy it. I'll give you the script later. You can have someone deliver it to them. Once they've copied it, just return it to me."
The script wasn't long—it mostly consisted of key clues and character summaries, leaving lots of room for improvisation. Elena estimated it would take them two or three days to transcribe everything.
But after two or three days passed, instead of simply returning the script, they sent another request:
''The new guests also wanted to try the game—could they make another copy of the script as well?''