"Motivation? Heh..." Feng Bujue's bullshitting began. "I can see... the relationship between you two brothers isn't that great. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it 'thin,' would it?" He shrugged. "Your brother is stable and successful in his career. And you're already in your thirties, basically still a failure, and without a fixed source of income."

Jue-Ge's ability to fabricate stories was indeed unmatched. He continued, "Personality determines destiny, Jack. I've seen a lot of young people like you, saying 'chasing dreams' but actually just using the word 'dream' as an excuse for indulgence, a way to deceive themselves." He picked up the booklet in his hand, flipped through it, and read, "At nineteen, you dropped out of college against your family's wishes and joined a third-rate... sorry... a no-rate rock band as the lead singer. In the next five or six years, you and your band traveled and performed everywhere. Most of the time you didn't earn any income, and the response to your performances was mixed, so basically... you guys were using your family's money to pay for your so-called 'dreams.'"

"Hmph... what do you know? How could someone like you understand the connotation in the music we make? You're just a brainwashed small-town citizen by warmongers, religious fanatics, and bureaucrats," Jack said disdainfully. "Speaking of which, you're clearly younger than me! How can you talk in such a condescending tone..."

"You're like a cockroach," Feng Bujue interrupted, reading in a cold tone, "a half-baked hippie, a pioneer of alternative culture. I know you people very well... selfish, self-centered, hedonistic, lazy. You resist the values ​​instilled in you by the previous generation, but you don't really have your own views; you hate the greed of the chaebols, lament the narrowness of traditional morality, and oppose the inhumanity of war. So you use rock music to express your dissatisfaction and show your cynical emotions. You shout 'love and peace', thinking you're 'pure, excited, and great', but this world can't be changed by these things."

"In the end, when all this is over, one day, your parents will grow old. Because you use all kinds of high-sounding reasons to shirk the social responsibilities that an adult should bear, your youth is ultimately wasted in meaningless escapes. Looking back, behind you stands a stupid young man, with an embarrassing hairstyle, smoking marijuana, and shouting empty slogans."

"Your set of idealist things sounds beautiful, but you don't have the ability to realize them."

Jack was dumbfounded. Not only Jack, but even Schofield was dumbfounded. Neither of them knew what to say.

"I used to be a cynical person too, Jack," Feng Bujue said leisurely, leaning back in his chair and looking up. "If you think a guy like you who makes garbage music, smokes marijuana, picks up girls, and travels around at his own expense is changing the world, then I and Martin Luther King can form a rap group and release a record." He put his hands behind his head. "Do you think you can change the world by casually publishing a few words in your works that allude to society and anti-government? I've tried it before, it didn't work."

"Uh..." Jack was completely stunned. His family and friends wouldn't tell him these views, and even if they did, they wouldn't be so sharp.

"Let's go back to the topic just now..." Feng Bujue turned a page of the booklet and continued, "Five or six years later, your band signed with a record company that was equally third-rate and released an album. But sales were obviously not very good, because that company soon went bankrupt." He paused. "Not long after that, your band announced its disbandment. Later you went to North America and found a job writing music for TV commercials for a living. Heh..." His sarcasm was palpable. "How does it feel to work for those fat-headed chaebols?"

Jack couldn't refute, so he could only change the subject: "What does this have to do with my brother's death?"

"Don't worry, we'll get to it soon, buddy," Feng Bujue laughed. "Ideals are beautiful, but to talk about ideals, you must first be able to withstand the beatings of reality." He spread his hands. "You are lucky, Jack, because you were born into a wealthy family. For you... a superior life, the right to receive education, and financial resources after dropping out of school are all things you can get by reaching out." He paused. "And you are also unfortunate, also because you were born into this wealthy family, the 'reality' punch came too late on your face...

"Your father gave you a life that many people can only dream of, but you squandered it."

"A few years ago, when your father finally couldn't bear it anymore and stopped all financial aid to you, you, who were nearly thirty years old, for the first time in your life, faced the monster of 'reality' alone. You found that 'living' is not such a simple thing."

"In the adult world, nothing is simple, and nothing is taken for granted. If you want to eat, you have to work; if you want to live a superior life, you have to work harder; if you want to be superior, you have to have something special."

"If you want to change the world... hmph... I won't discuss this topic with you."

Feng Bujue stood up from the chair and slowly paced over. "Now, you probably know better than anyone what it's like to have no money. Living in a cheap hotel without even hot water, sleeping on a dirty bed, eating only two meals a day, each meal only consisting of bread and tap water, sending out the songs you've written and being terrified of being rejected, because that means going hungry..." He walked up to Jack, looking down at him with eyes that seemed to be able to see through everything. "A young master like you, after such ups and downs, must have become much more resilient. And your fear of poverty will be even greater than those who have never been rich."

Jue-Ge sneered and continued, "In recent years, your father's health has been deteriorating, which is undoubtedly a very bad sign... If he dies, what will he leave to you, his rebellious second son? In the hearts of this family, aren't you just an irresponsible playboy who only knows how to mess around and ask for money? No matter how much family property is left to you, it will be squandered, right..."

Jack's eyes showed that he wanted to defend himself, but Feng Bujue immediately increased his tone and speed, not giving him a chance to interrupt. "Not to mention how much that stepmother who entered the door seven years ago and your sister can get... If it is according to the general order of inheritance, then Dennis is undoubtedly a huge obstacle for you to get the inheritance." Although it was slander, his words were really reasonable. "The relationship between you brothers is not very good, for this family property that is enough to change your life... Isn't it natural for you to have murderous intentions towards him..."

Schofield chimed in from the side, "Well... that makes sense. Today's quarrel became the fuse. You made up your mind in the hallway, planned it after returning to your room, and then carried out the murder." The detective basically understood Jue-Ge's bullshitting routine, and it was only natural to help out with a few words.

"You bastard..." Jack really didn't expect that, through the information he and his family members revealed to Officer Mark, this detective could vividly describe his life's journey...

In fact, Feng Bujue himself didn't expect it... He just combined the descriptions of Jack from different people, roughly sorted out the experiences of this second young master over the years, and then used his novelist's talent to connect them together by imagining and speculating about the other party's inner changes in different stages of his life. Unexpectedly, he guessed everything right... including the fact that Jack had murderous intentions towards Dennis, which was indeed true.

Jack gritted his teeth and laughed angrily, "Okay, since you two have said this..." He stood up and spread his hands. "Then I'll just say it clearly..." He sneered, "Anyway, I didn't kill anyone. Whether I have a motive or not... Before Carol found the body, I was always in my room packing my luggage and didn't go out even half a step. If I didn't kill anyone, I didn't kill anyone. I won't confess. If you really have evidence, then arrest me." As he said this, he put on a rogue look and stretched out his hands towards Schofield.