criminal profiling

Qian Mo has been in a bad mood recently. As an editor, his biggest task every day is to urge the authors under him to submit manuscripts.Although I have been engaged in editing work for many years, it has been tepid.There used to be a relatively popular writer under my staff, but the popularity only lasted for a while, and soon cooled down.Qian Mo thought it was the subject matter, but that great writer would rather freeze to death with a cold subject than change the subject and follow the crowd.

If he hadn't accumulated a group of loyal fans, he would have been well-known on this subject over the years.It doesn't rank high on the sales list, but the publication sales are not worrying.

Cold subjects are cold subjects. If you achieve the ultimate in a field and accumulate a lot of knowledge, you may have a skyrocketing moment.

However, the author, who doesn't have to worry about anything other than getting popular, has recently dragged out his manuscript.Qian Mo called ten times, and the other party connected at most three times, and hung up after he couldn't say a few words.

The publisher had negotiated a long time ago, but as the deadline approached day by day, the manuscript did not make any progress.In the end, Qian Mo had no choice but to go there himself.

This is an old-fashioned residential building with no elevators and no monitoring. It looks very old on the outside.Behind it is a large garbage dump. The front was originally a vegetable market, and the rear was relocated, so the place was abandoned and became a place for nearby residents to walk and chat after dinner.

This is Qian Mo's third visit, so he is quite familiar with the way.He walked to the door on the left side of the second floor, stretched out his hand and rang the doorbell, and then found that the doorbell was broken last time and it was still broken this time, so he had to slap the door panel with his hand.

After taking pictures for a long time, no one opened the door. If he hadn't confirmed that the person living inside was a dead house, he would have thought that he had come at the wrong time.He took out his phone and dialed a number, but no one answered.He sent a text message, and then continued to dial, knocking on the door while dialing.

Just when Qian Mo was hesitating whether to continue filming, worried that his neighbors would be disturbed and wanted to call the police, the door swung open from the inside.One stood in the shadows behind the door, watching him silently.

Qian Mo was taken aback, and realized that when the person he was looking for opened the door, he exhaled, rubbed his chest and yelled.

"My ambush is big, you are trying to scare me to death. Although you are writing a suspenseful detective, don't make yourself look like a fugitive who needs to hide in a novel." He said it very familiarly. Walk in, look around after entering.

"Why are you still so dark here? Has the light been broken and haven't been repaired? Why haven't you answered the phone? Why can't you hear the phone when it's turned off? How is the manuscript? The concept of this story is very interesting recently. How many words can I write? ? How long will it take to finish?"

After rambling on for a long time, there was no response, so I turned around and looked back.I saw that the owner of this house was still standing at the door, maintaining the posture when he opened the door before, as if he was standing up and fell asleep-although it was a dead house, he looked like he didn't want to talk to people, but he kept the house neat and tidy Yes, except for fairer skin and dead eyes, he is not at all like someone who is always locked in the house without seeing the sun.

Qian Mo sighed, feeling that this person really hasn't changed at all, if he can't write articles to support himself, how can he survive.

Qian Mo, who was working as an editor and cared about his father's heart, walked around the living room, abiding by the basic courtesy and searching for manuscripts directly without going to the room.

The living room was similar to the previous two visits. Although it was considered clean, it still looked a bit messy.The main reason is that the furnishings in the room are messy, very uncoordinated, and some things seem out of place.

For example, there are several types of throw pillows, such as literary style, classical style, and abstract style; for example, there are several kerosene lamps in the sofa area. The lampshades are not made of glass, but leather products, making the lights look more dim.

There are bowls and chopsticks on the table, it seems that this person was eating just now.Qian Mo glanced at the half-cooked rice in the bowl, and felt a little guilty, but was soon overwhelmed by another burning enthusiasm for work.

"Okay, I'm standing here now. If you don't hand in the manuscript today, I won't go back." Qian Mo stood in the middle of the living room with his waist in his arms, raised his eyebrows and looked at the person who was still standing at the door. The determination not to give up until the goal is reached.

The man stood at the door for a while, staring at the uninvited guests without blinking, his eyes did not move, and there was no expression on his face.Qian Mo was a little uncomfortable being stared at, and felt a faint feeling of hair in his heart.He opened his mouth and was about to say something when the person standing at the door finally moved.He seemed to hesitate for a while, but in the end he didn't close the door and walked towards Qian Mo.

"Wait here a moment."

When Qian Mo heard it, he knew that he was going to pick up the manuscript—every time this author handed in a manuscript, he always printed it out in hard copy, instead of sending out an electronic version like other authors—it was obviously also written by a computer. But life and death are not allowed to use a USB flash drive to copy, nor to send emails.

Perhaps the author who writes this type of novel thinks differently from ordinary people.Qian Mo had no choice but to take it back and enter it into the computer by himself.

He was standing in the living room waiting, a little bored, glanced at the dishes on the table, he didn't know what they were, they looked delicious.Qian Mo touched his stomach, he came all the way from the magazine office, he was a bit hungry.

After a while, the man came out with a stack of papers and handed them to Qian Mo.Qian Mo quickly took it and opened it to read, there were more than 20 pages.He casually scanned the text on it, and slowly became excited—continuing the previous style, just a few lines of words made people feel immersive, as if they participated in it personally.

"Hey, let's not talk about it. Those who don't know it will think that this is a crime scene investigation record. It looks like the real thing." Qian Mo admired, and couldn't bear to release the paper after reading a few pages, but time was tight, and he had to go back Hit it again.

Qian Mo put away the manuscript and was about to go out. He raised his foot as if thinking about something, turned back and looked at the man and said, "By the way, you still owe me a gift. I'm here in person this time. Should I refill it?" I?"

The last time I held a signing for men, the effect was not bad, and I got a lot of loyal fans.The signing was planned by Qian Mo. After the event, he joked that the man should give him a gift to express his gratitude. The man nodded seriously and said to give it to him.

Qian Mo is still greedy for gifts from his own authors, but thinks that "reciprocity is a courtesy", and a return can maintain and deepen the relationship between each other.This is his only law to harass his writers.

The man looked up at Qian Mo for a while, but Qian Mo couldn't figure out whether he still remembered, and was about to say forget it, when the man moved.He seemed to twitch the corner of his mouth to reveal a very shallow smile, and said lightly:

"Wait."

Then turned back to the room again.

It's really, as always, cherishing words like gold.

Qian Mo sighed in his heart, his eyes followed the man.The man entered the room. The light in the room was darker than that in the living room. It may be that the computer was turned on to type, and there was a dim light from the screen.Not long after, the man came out with something like a bunch of wind chimes.

"Here you are." After stuffing the things to Qian Mo, the man stopped talking.

"Did you make this yourself? It's very beautiful." Qian Mo said in a joyful voice, not all compliments, but he thought the gift was pretty good.

The shape is different from those wind chimes on the market. There is a small bone-like ornament hanging under each string of bells, which looks very cute.

Hearing Qian Mo's praise, the man with a dull expression raised his head and smiled obviously, and said slowly, "Really? As long as you like it."

Qian Mo also smiled, and said sincerely: "It's very rare to see a man who can cook and handcraft by himself. If you use this persona to meet readers, you will definitely get more fans." I glanced at the table.

The food on the plate looked like meat or tofu, Qian Mo couldn't guess what it was.And he is known as the "veteran", he likes to taste something he has never eaten before.

The man noticed his gaze, the corners of his mouth curled slightly, and he showed a polite smile, "Want to try it?" He said and brought the plate directly in front of Qian Mo, asking him to taste it.

Unable to resist the temptation, Qian Mo reached out and took a piece of fried tofu into his mouth.Well, it's a bit fragrant, a bit powdery, like tofu but not tofu.Qian Mo licked his fingers and couldn't help but ask, "What the hell is this?"

The man looked at him in silence for a while, then smiled slowly.

"you guess."

-

When Zhuang Sheng left the place where the mother and daughter lived, his expression was a little dignified.He took out his mobile phone and was just about to make a call, only to find that there was an unread text message on it, which was sent from an unfamiliar number.

Pausing for a moment, Zhuang Sheng clicked on the text message, and then his expression changed a little.

If you want to save Lin Xiangxiang, come alone, and I will give you an hour.

Lin Xiangxiang, the name of the missing girl.

Zhuang Sheng held the phone with a calm expression without any emotion.He stood there for a while, then stepped out without hesitation as if he had made a decision.

At the same time, Meng Yan, who sent Zhuang Sheng to the bureau and said that he would go back to prepare lunch for him, was rushing to the city bureau with a food box, when the phone rang to remind him that he had received an email, Meng Yan paused immediately , his complexion changed slightly.

That was the prompt tone he specially set for a certain mailbox.

Meng Yan put the food box away, took out his mobile phone and opened it, and it turned out to be the mailbox with only one email - now there are two emails, one has been read and the other has not been read.

Meng Yan clicked on the mailbox, and it was still in a concise and clear style-the whole email only had one sentence.

Breaking the rules of the game will end itself and start the punishment mechanism.

Below is another countdown clock, the time——

59:59