Man in the Three-Body Problem: After facing the wall, I founded the Reception Society!

"Mrs. Allen," Olier finally ended this lengthy and misty visit. He stood up slowly, his eyes revealing an indescribable firmness and depth. "In the pursuit of the truth, every time you evade and reserve, it is like adding a heavy stone to your shoulders, making you bear an unbearable responsibility. What's more, such behavior has put you on the edge of an extremely dangerous situation. I must remind you that if the situation develops to the point where I have to seek the assistance of the police, then you will deeply understand how heavy and cold the suspicious eyes from all sides will be. Please think carefully, if you are really innocent, why did you firmly deny the fact that you wrote a letter to Uncle Jack that day when you first faced my inquiry?"

Mrs. Allen's face changed slightly when she heard this. She bit her lip lightly, as if she was struggling fiercely in her heart. "I... the reason I did that," her voice was thin as a thread, but with a few barely perceptible tremors, "is because I am deeply afraid that the few words in the letter will be misunderstood and distorted, and then woven into an invisible web, binding me tightly in an unfounded scandal. I, I just want to protect myself and not let the shadow of the past cover my life again."

Olier sighed softly, with a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. "But, Mrs. Allen, why did you then ask Uncle Jack to destroy the letter so urgently? Isn't this even more intriguing, making people wonder if there is some unspeakable secret hidden in the letter?"

Mrs. Allen lowered her head and twisted her hands together unconsciously, as if she was trying to find the right words to respond. "If you...if you really had the opportunity to read the fragment of that letter," her voice was almost inaudible, "you would understand that some words, once spoken, are like spilled water, and it is difficult to take them back. What I want is to allow the illusion that nothing has happened to continue, and not let those dusty past events be revealed again."

Olier shook his head, his tone somewhat helpless. "Mrs. Allen, I did not claim to have read the entire letter, I only mentioned some parts of the postscript. But even so, I could sense the urgency and anxiety between the lines. So, please tell me again, why were you so determined to ask Uncle Jack to turn this letter into ashes on the last day of his life?"

Mrs. Allen slowly raised her head, her eyes flashing with unprecedented determination. "That's because the letter involves a purely personal privacy of mine, a secret that I really don't want anyone to know. It's about my dignity, my past, and the corner of my heart that I don't want to be touched the most."

O'Leary frowned, seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. "However, I'm afraid the deeper reason is that you are trying to evade an upcoming public investigation. After all, anything related to the case could be a key clue to uncovering the truth."

Mrs. Allen's eyes were slightly red, and she took a deep breath, as if she was making some important decision. "Since you insist so much, then I will open my heart to you. If you have ever heard about my past, you will understand how I rashly stepped into a wrong marriage, and how I regretted it countless times in the days that followed. It was a loveless marriage, a cage that imprisoned me in endless darkness."

Olier listened quietly, with a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. "I have heard all this."

"During those days, I longed for liberation all the time, longed to regain my freedom, and have my own happiness and peace. When I learned that I could break free from this shackles by paying a considerable fee, I almost did not hesitate to pick up the pen and write that letter to Uncle Jack. Because I knew very well that he was the only relative I could rely on and my only hope."

At this point, Mrs. Allen's voice trembled slightly, as if those painful memories came back to her mind again. "However, fate always seemed to play a joke on me. Just as I was expecting a reply, another door quietly opened for me - someone was willing to lend a hand and help me escape from that hellish home. At that moment, I almost thought I saw the light."

Olier nodded to show his understanding. "Then why didn't you explain this to Uncle Jack in time, but let the misunderstanding continue to ferment?"

Mrs. Allen smiled bitterly, her eyes full of helplessness. "Because, just when I was about to write a letter to explain, I saw the news of Uncle Jack's death in the newspaper. At that moment, my heart seemed to be torn apart. I knew that I would never have the chance to express my gratitude and apology to him in person."

As Mrs. Allen continued her narration, the whole room seemed to be shrouded in a faint sadness.

Oriel was silent for a moment, thinking to himself.

He did not find any obvious contradictions or loopholes in her words, but instead felt a deep sense of helplessness and sadness. He realized that perhaps, at least part of what this woman said was true.

So he made a decision. "Mrs. Allen, I will continue to investigate this matter to see if I can find any clues about the time when you filed for divorce. But please remember that it takes time to uncover the truth. Before that, I hope you can remain calm and patient and wait for the day when the truth comes out."

After saying this, Oriel turned and left the room, leaving Mrs. Allen alone in the dim light, silently savoring the loneliness and waiting that belonged to her.

Olier walked with heavy steps, his mood like the sky covered by dark clouds, and he returned to the starting point dejectedly. This was not just a simple failure, but more like a desperate cycle of countless attempts to break through the invisible wall, but always being bounced back. The wall seemed to be made of endless doubts and puzzles, standing on every path he took to the truth, looking both solid and indifferent.

He closed his eyes and repeatedly sketched the lady's face in his mind. Every subtle expression of hers was like a carefully arranged puzzle that made him unable to extricate himself. Why did her face turn so pale at a certain moment, as if hiding an unspeakable secret? Whenever he tried to lift the veil, she would always deny it with various reasons, until she was forced into a desperate situation, and then she reluctantly revealed a corner of the truth. This attitude of trying to cover up the truth made O'Neill's heart full of more confusion and doubts.

Under the shadow of tragedy, her silence is like an abyss, swallowing up all the voices around her. Why did she choose to remain silent? Was it for the purpose of protecting herself, or was there a more complicated consideration behind it? O'Leary knew that the answers to these questions would never be as simple and straightforward as she explained on the surface. There must be deeper entanglements and hidden stories behind them.

Faced with this seemingly dead end, Olier did not give up. He took a deep breath and decided to change direction, placing his hopes on the vast swamp. There, there were stone houses forgotten by time, scattered among them, like puzzles left by the ancients, waiting for the solution of the destined person. The housekeeper's vague description only mentioned a rough range, which made the search extremely difficult, but Olier was determined to find a ray of hope in this desolate land.

Recalling the figure he had caught a glimpse of on the top of Black Rock Hill, an inexplicable determination surged in Olier's heart. He decided to use this as a starting point to gradually expand the search range and check the small houses hidden in the grass and fog one by one. This was a race against time, and also a challenge to his will and wisdom.

He secretly vowed that once he found the mysterious man, he would make him reveal all the mysteries in person. No matter what the reason was, he couldn't let it go because the other party had been following him for a long time. If necessary, he would not hesitate to use force, using the pistol in his hand as the final deterrent to force the other party to tell the truth.

In the bustling and noisy Orne Street, the man might be able to escape with the cover of the crowd, but where can he escape to in this lonely swamp?

In that long and slightly dull afternoon, the sun lazily sprinkled on the cobblestone roads of the town, giving every corner a layer of warm gold.

At this moment, Dr. O'Leary was unexpectedly turned by the wheel of fortune and was involved in an unexpected adventure.

The starting point of all this was the old jailer with a white beard but an unusually ruddy complexion. He was like an unexpected messenger of luck, standing at the gate of his well-tended garden with a smile on his face, as if the joy of the whole world was condensed in his enthusiastic calls.

"Oh, Dr. Oriel, you are such a distinguished guest!" The old jailer's voice was full of joy and anticipation, and his eyes sparkled with childlike excitement. "Please let your horse rest, come in and sit down, we have to celebrate!" Although Oriel still had some grudges against some of the old jailer's behaviors, this sudden invitation was like a breeze that blew away some of the haze in his heart. Thinking that he could take this opportunity to send the coachman and the carriage home, Dr. Oriel readily agreed and followed the old jailer into the mysterious cottage.

The moment you step into the old jailer's house, you are greeted by a warm and slightly old-fashioned atmosphere, as if time has slowed down here. In the dining room, a simple wooden table is polished to a shine, and candles flicker on several exquisite candlesticks, adding a touch of warmth and solemnity to the upcoming celebration. The old jailer is obviously impatient, his face is flushed, and he rubs his hands excitedly, as if he has endless stories to share with others.

"You know, Dr. O'Leary, today is a great joy for me!" His voice trembled slightly with excitement. "I, the old jailer, actually solved two difficult cases in one day! It's as if the god of fate has specially favored me." At this point, he couldn't help but chuckled. In that laughter, there was both the joy of victory and the ridicule of the injustice of the world.

"The first case is about old Midoton's garden. Did you know that the busy road actually passed through the center of his garden so openly, only a hundred steps away from his front door! This is simply a blatant trampling on private property rights! I, an ordinary jailer, have no prominent power or huge wealth, but I have a heart of justice. I swear to uphold the dignity of the law and let everyone know that everyone is equal before the law!" There was a firm light flashing in the old jailer's eyes, and every word he said was like a hammer, knocking on the hearts of everyone present.

"The second case is about the woods where the Fernworthy family often went for picnics. Those who claim to be aristocrats always trample on the gifts of nature so unscrupulously, leaving behind a lot of garbage and destruction. I can't sit idly by! I filed a lawsuit, demanding that they pay the price for their actions. Although the process was full of hardships and challenges, and some people even threatened to retaliate against me, I never backed down. Today, I finally won! This victory belongs not only to me personally, but also to all those who uphold justice and fairness!" The old jailer's words were full of pride and pride, and his image became tall and majestic at this moment.

Dr. O'Leary was overwhelmed with mixed emotions when he heard this. He was moved by the old jailer's courage and persistence, but also indignant at the injustice and indifference of the world. He couldn't help asking, "So, how did you accuse Sir Mark? You know, he is a powerful person."

The old jailer smiled slightly, took out a yellowed record book from the drawer, and gently opened it: "Look here, Dr. O'Leary. This is the testimony of my struggle with Marco and the High Court. I invested 200 pounds of my savings in this lawsuit, but I have never regretted it. Because I know that what I am pursuing is something far more valuable than money - that is justice and fairness!"

"So, did you get any benefit?" Dr. O'Leary asked curiously.

The old jailer shook his head slightly, with a barely perceptible sense of loneliness in his eyes: "No, sir. I didn't get any material benefits. But I gained something more precious than that - that is inner satisfaction and peace. I know that everything I did is right. I firmly believe that one day, my efforts will change the world and let everyone feel the light of justice."

"Mr. O'Leary, you are asking this question. I'm sure you are filled with endless curiosity and doubts, right?"

Olier frowned slightly and asked tentatively: "Yes, may I ask what is the meaning of your doing this?"

But a smug smile instantly broke out on the old man's face, as if he held the most amazing secret in the world.

"Humph, you see, things in this world are often so wonderful." The old man deliberately prolonged his tone, with a cunning light flashing in his eyes, "I had the opportunity to share with those greedy people the information they dream of, but you also know that I am a soft-hearted person and I don't want to help the tyrants and become an accomplice of those evil deeds."

O'Leary's mind had already drifted away, and he was eager to get away from the endless chatter and find a quiet corner of his own. However, at this moment, the old man's words were like a magnet, tightly attracting his attention, making him want to explore more involuntarily.

"Hey, Mr. Olier, don't get me wrong. I'm not the kind of person who likes to gossip." Olier pretended to be relaxed, with a bit of inadvertent indifference in his tone. "But if it really involves some poaching, it's an interesting story worth listening to."

Who would have thought that the old jailer smiled lightly upon hearing this, and there was some deep meaning hidden in that smile: "Oh? Poaching? Haha, that's really a piece of cake. What we are talking about is a big event that can shake the peace of this town!" At this point, he paused deliberately, his eyes fixed on Oriel, as if he wanted to see through every fluctuation in his heart.

"Have you ever heard of the mysterious fugitive in the swamp?" The old jailer lowered his voice a little, with a hint of mystery and urgency, "His whereabouts are like a ghost in the fog, making it hard to figure out. But do you know? I may be the one who can unravel the fog."

When O'Neill heard this, he couldn't help but feel a surge of shock in his heart. He tried to stay calm and spoke in a calm tone: "You...you mean, you know where he is?"

The old jailer shook his head, then nodded, his expression seemed to be both denying and confirming: "Although I can't point out his hiding place, I am sure that as long as we find the source of his food, it will be like finding the clues to track him. After all, no matter how cunning the fox is, it still needs to eat, right?"

These words, like a sharp dagger, pierced O'Leary's heart. He knew very well that this was not just a roundup of fugitives, but might involve more unknown dangers and conspiracies.

"Indeed, your idea makes sense." Olier forced a smile, trying to hide his inner panic, "But...but how do you determine that he is in the swamp?"

The old jailer's face once again showed a smug look. "That's because I saw with my own eyes the man who brought him food. Every day, at the same time, on the same path, that figure was always there. Apart from the fugitive, who else could make a child travel through the wilderness so persistently?"