Library

The young people in the bookstore didn't seem to feel the boss's impatience. He stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window and gently turned a page of the book without even changing the posture of holding the book. But if the boss stands up and walks to the young man, he will find that the black stage in the center of the bookstore will become clear. Surrounding the stage were countless girls, wearing uniform red dresses, who were shouting the names of their idols. Those shouts became less clear when they reached the third floor. They seemed to be "Li Qingtian" or "Li Jingtian", but no matter which name they were, they were not famous.

It was Xiaojiang who suggested the trip. She said it was to commemorate the first wedding anniversary. "How interesting it is to talk around the stove in an old wooden house in the heavy snow!" Xiaojiang said, with a girlish brilliance in his eyes. I work as a section manager at a large electrical appliance company in Shinjuku, which is a very successful career path for me at 36 years old. Xiaojiang is a clerk of a company that has close business relations with our company. He is nearly 30 years old. After the leaders of both parties matched up, we met. After that, I was attracted by her cheerful personality and got married soon after. She is an ordinary woman. That's why I think she is such a perfect match for me.

"I never want to, never want to... Leave you!" Jiang Yao fell into the girl's arms and murmured. The girl hid her face behind the paper fan. She scolded: "You always say this, and I really believe it. What can you do?" Jiang Yao pushed away the paper fan, stroked the girl's cheek, and said softly: "Ping'er, don't you believe what I said?" "I believe it." Yin Ping'er's eyes The light fell on Jiang Yao's face, which looked like a woman's beautiful face. She just smiled and said: "But some things will never happen according to your wishes. For example, can your Jiang family accommodate me, a fireworks girl who came from a brothel?" "Why not? I like you, and you like me. As long as we are willing, no one can stop it." In Yunzhou City, Dongcheng corner.

The famous Western star Buck Horn plans to return to the screen, but he doesn't want to be shot dead while performing horse stunts in the oval arena. The New York City Police Department mobilized its entire force and conducted an unprecedented search, but to no avail. A month later, at the same place, in the same scene, the God of Death repeated his tricks again, replicating another murder. The two murder cases were the same, but they were also shrouded in mystery: under the watchful eyes of 20,000 spectators, the police were unable to find the murder weapon, the murderer, or the motive.

In the wooden bathtub, she became a curled, brown object, lying in the filthy black water. Outside the basin are densely packed small insects. I forced myself to take another look and hurriedly closed my eyelids. I was dizzy with shock. A foul smell instantly overwhelmed me. I held my breath and stumbled out of the porch into the freezing rain. Oh my God! Poor Carol!

The last person who survived painfully recalled that night: every 10 minutes when the lights went out, one of them died cruelly... Seven classmates woke up one after another. They were either pressing their heads or rubbing their eyes. They were surrounded by silvery gray. This was a big room. It was like they were in a dream, not knowing where they were. There is an embedded round fluorescent lamp above the head, sealed inside the glass, emitting pale light, illuminating the cold darkness around it. Surrounded by stainless steel walls, rectangles protrude like neatly arranged, cold steel drawers in a morgue. There are no windows; there is a red quartz clock hanging on one wall. There is a larger upright rectangle in the corner of the room. It should be a door. It doesn't even have a handle. They seemed to have been imprisoned here and had been unconscious.

The letter that Zhou Lu never believed would appear was finally sent. Blue envelope, express delivery, just like the other party promised. There is a faint aroma on the envelope. It doesn't smell like perfume, nor does it smell like ink. Zhou Lu was very familiar with this smell. It's the aura of that person. An ancient thing called opium. That person's name was Peng Ying, and she had been receiving treatment at the psychological counseling center where Zhou Lu worked for more than half a year. A week ago, Peng Ying suddenly decided to end treatment. Peng Ying's recovery situation is not ideal, but she said that she has been busy with work recently and will no longer have free time. Peng Ying's problem is insomnia. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she took opium. A small piece of black paste brings a brief moment of tranquility to the mind.

"What do you want?" Hearing the chef ask, the mysterious man wearing light brown sunglasses just muttered in a low voice while pointing at the counter with one hand. "I've kept you waiting. Sea urchin, salted salmon roe, scallops, crab sauce, and white shrimp!" The sushi chef energetically announced the names of the dishes and placed the freshly made sushi neatly in front of the mysterious man. Each piece of sushi comes in two pieces. But the man only ate one of each kind, and neither took away nor touched the other. Time passed by and the sushi was slowly drying out. The man stared intently at the tea cup in his hand, seemingly unaware that the sushi chef was looking at him from time to time. Gradually, the sushi chef's face turned red, his nostrils dilated, and his thick eyebrows furrowed into an inverted figure.

My name is Toshie Ohta, and I work in the same company as Yukiko Sada. We both came to work in this company at the same time, and our desks were right next to each other. In seven years, we have never been transferred. Because we look similar, colleagues say we are like twin sisters. It just so happens that we are both 29-year-old single girls. Colleagues who are fond of joking often say: "You want to get married at the same time, right? Why haven't you disclosed your relationship?" Whenever we hear such questioning jokes, we have an unspeakable annoyance in our hearts, so we have to laugh it off. Before getting off work on Friday, I said to Yukiko: "Let's spend the weekend." "How to spend the weekend?" "The mechanical work, the same thing every day, is really boring.

The time now is exactly 9 o'clock in the morning, and JR Ewing has been at work for more than an hour. During this period of time, he made more than ten phone calls to more than ten countries according to different time differences, carefully read a rather complex financial report, read the "Wall Street Journal" from cover to cover, and made a net profit of US$62,000 in Hong Kong's financial market based on the temporary price difference between the pound and the yen. At this moment, he was thinking about finding some small happy things to relax. "Phyllis," he said, picking up the intercom phone that was connected to his secretary, "you can let George Upfield in now."

The famous Western star Buck Horn plans to return to the screen, but he doesn't want to be shot dead while performing horse stunts in the oval arena. The New York City Police Department mobilized its entire force and conducted an unprecedented search, but to no avail. A month later, at the same place, in the same scene, the God of Death repeated his tricks again, replicating another murder. The two murder cases were the same, but they were also shrouded in mystery: under the watchful eyes of 20,000 spectators, the police were unable to find the murder weapon, the murderer, or the motive.

Catherine is dead. She was murdered in a hotel and her children were missing. It was unbelievable, but when I saw the sad eyes of my husband, Gordon, my whole body immediately went limp. My mother's arrival finally shattered my prayers that this was just a nightmare. I threw myself into my mother's arms and cried sadly together with her. I wanted to scream and smash things. How could such a terrible thing happen to my sister? Catherine was kind, honest, and always willing to help those less fortunate. She once worked as a lawyer for a company, and later became an ordinary social worker out of love.

At 17:00 on August 3, 2012, Hongjing is an ancient city. The heavy rain had been falling for most of the day. It finally stopped in the evening, but the sky was terrifyingly cloudy. The staff at the Tianqing Temple scenic spot had a free day. When they were about to get off work, they were told by tourists who suddenly broke in that the side hall was leaking and there was water on the ground. After arriving at the side hall, the previously reported tourists had disappeared. It was dark, and the old temple was filled with the smell of damp and rotten wood. It was still bright at the entrance of the temple, and after walking a few steps inside, I could only see the vague shapes of the sculptures in the temple.

"Is that all you have to tell me?" "Miss Strange, I think you will find that this is completely enough." "Just such an address..." "One more suggestion: you have to make a phone call as soon as possible. The client is already distraught and can't wait." Violet Strange, with a hint of melancholy on her normal and mischievous face, looked at her employer with a puzzled expression before turning towards the door. She has asked her employer to investigate a case.

As he sat down in his first-class seat on the nonstop flight to Dallas, he found himself wondering how and why his father had been murdered. The man who killed Jock Ewing didn't know Jock. In fact, he probably had never even heard of him. In addition, what is confusing is that the person behind the murder, the person who wanted Jock dead, JR realized that he had never seen it before. Before the huge plane taxied onto the runway, JR's mind couldn't help but return to the scene between him and Joanna Lessing last night. "Okay," JR said, still clutching the photo. "You know why I came to Washington."

When the incident happened, I called Li Hao. He was queuing up to buy juice, and he said he was buying a box of juice and getting a USB flash drive as a gift. He was very unhappy there: "Xiao Tong, you only take the initiative to call and date me when you are working on a case." He still showed up half an hour later, flipping up and down a white flash drive that he bought for juice, and flipping through my case records: "Grave robbery? Oh, there is an autopsy today? I'm impressed!" Even if there were ancient corpses, it was not Li Hao's turn to perform the surgery, because he was not an expert, but a forensic doctor - there was only one forensic doctor in the Qinggang City Police Department, and one person supported a department. As a new jobber, I have to call Li Hao senior in terms of seniority. It's just because we've been drinking a lot together that our relationship is not so formal. This case is indeed related to tomb robbing, but there is no body.

"At 9 p. M. On July 10, Ram Jindel, a soldier of the Eighth Mountain Mixed Regiment, fired a shot at each of the two captains of his infantry company with a rifle. Captain Wal-Mart died on the spot, and Captain Goble was shot in the shoulder and was seriously injured. According to the doctor's diagnosis report, if the bullet had hit the point again, Two inches lower, Captain Goble will definitely die. According to Article 69 of the Military Law and Article 302 of the Criminal Law, our military court accepted this shooting case caused by the infantry company soldier Ram Jindel..." Military prosecutor Major Polly stated the case carefully.

The first thing people told me was that he killed his wife, the second thing was that he made a huge fortune before he was even forty years old, and the third thing was that he was going to sell Cramond Castle for a million pounds so that he could move to a small island in the Caribbean, where he would fly his own private jet and live a carefree life with female secretaries and mistresses. "My dear, you must not listen to these nonsense." Katie Clyde, the country doctor's wife, said: "Charlie is just a 32-year-old widower who just wants to buy a piece of land in Florida." "But he does have a big family fortune!" I retorted, because everyone regarded him as a complete capitalist.

On the morning of July 16, 1990, Walter Lang Jr., The intelligence officer in charge of the Middle East and South Asia at the U. S. Defense Intelligence Agency, was at his desk analyzing satellite photos of the Middle East that had been sent earlier in the morning. One day ago, the desert areas in southeastern Iraq and north of Kuwait were empty and deserted, but today an Iraqi T-72 tank unit appeared. The photos also show that the railway lines are transporting various military equipment. Only President Saddam's elite Republican Guard in the Iraqi army possesses such advanced equipment. This guard is mainly responsible for the task of protecting the capital Baghdad and is usually stationed in central Iraq not far from the capital. So what are these tanks doing hundreds of miles away?

Miss Strange did not always appear to be brooding-at least not at great gatherings or in the public eye. However, at Mrs. Provost's musical evening, she would definitely be intoxicated and reach a state of selflessness. If it was a kind of elegant music, people could understand her lost look. However, the music was obviously of an average level, and Violet's hearing was so keen, and her sense of music had always been well-trained. If it wasn't really the best music, she wouldn't waste her precious time.

"You have already studied this case?" "I am not the one who has studied this case." "How can you provide such eye-catching headlines for those newspapers if you have not studied this case in recent days?" "I don't read those newspapers. I haven't read a newspaper for a whole week." "Miss Strange, your social activities must be very tightly arranged at the moment?" "That is natural." "Then your professional sense is temporarily on hold?" "How can you see that?" "Don't you ask yourself if you have read those newspapers?"

Whenever he rode his bicycle to the slope next to Wuzoji Temple, Kyouta felt a sense of relief. When he came out of the store across from the station, the milk bottles on the school bag rack made him bend down, forcing him to push his feet as hard as he could. At this time, the cold morning air gradually blended into the atmosphere of the eastern sunrise, making Kyouta feel relieved that today's work was coming to an end. Kyouta is not bored with the job of delivering milk every morning. However, he is a third-grade elementary school student after all. His body is sluggish and thin. Riding a bicycle on the bumpy gravel road and carrying a bag with milk bottles up to the fourth floor is indeed a very hard job.

The time now is exactly 9 o'clock in the morning, and JR Ewing has been at work for more than an hour. During this period of time, he made more than ten phone calls to more than ten countries according to different time differences, carefully read a rather complex financial report, read the "Wall Street Journal" from cover to cover, and made a net profit of US$62,000 in Hong Kong's financial market based on the temporary price difference between the pound and the yen. At this moment, he was thinking about finding some small happy things to relax. "Phyllis," he said, picking up the intercom phone connected to his secretary, "now, you can let George Upfield in."

At the bottom of the thick, viscous liquid, empty pupils stared into the void. Candlelight casts complex shadows on the patio. A windowless, dark room. The stone platform was soaked in blood. The smell of oil mixed in the cold air was so strong that it choked your nose. In the corner of the basement, there is a huge sarcophagus filled with olive oil. At the bottom of the sarcophagus, there are countless corpses--dismembered corpses--this is the hospital's autopsy room. On the autopsy table, there was the body of an elderly man. From the opened chest, organs that had become horribly colored were exposed. A slender man was leaning over to observe the putrid corpse. The flame of the flickering candle reflected his upright silhouette. The man held paper and charcoal in his hands, and in the silent autopsy room late at night, he was sketching the corpse.

Whenever I think of this incident, I always feel extremely sad and devastated. Now, many years have passed, but every time I think about it, it is still as heartbreaking as before, and it is unforgettable for a long time. That day, I felt cold, shivering, and restless. You didn't listen to my advice of "don't go anywhere, stay at home with me" and went to the appointment alone. I ran to the balcony, watched you get into the car, and watched you leave with sad eyes. Then, the phone rang. But when I picked up the phone, there was no sound again, just like what happened in recent days. The calls came sometimes during the day and sometimes at night. There was silence at the other end of the line, no sound at all.

They decided to let Kyubey go in first. Darren Dick explained: First, Chubby is the oldest and most experienced person among them, so he should take the lead; second, Chubby is a newcomer to the team, and this is an opportunity to prove himself; third, Darren said that he did not agree with Chubby coming, but he had to come. Also, Qiu was fatter, and criminals hiding in the house would dig holes inside to avoid the police. Only someone who was bulky and slow to run could lure the criminals out. It was not until the other two saw clearly that they ran to report. Darren added that there will definitely be rewards, even money. "How do we know if there will be a reward?" Kyubey asked. Darren said: "There are always rewards for catching criminals." "How do we know there must be criminals inside?"

His head began to throb and ache again. Ming Ruotao took out two painkillers from his pocket and threw them into his mouth. He unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle and took a few sips. The scenery in front of me became a little blurry, my hands and feet seemed to be unable to control themselves, and I felt numb. He sat on the flower bed on the side of the road for a while, and then he felt the pain gradually receding. The barrier between his mind and the world seemed to have become much thinner, but the soles of his feet were a little soft. Wiping the sweat from his head, he stood up, shook his head, identified the direction, and walked along the road to a teahouse on the side of the road. This teahouse has been open for more than 10 years. In the past few years, he has come here often, and every time he comes, he meets the same person. Now the man was sitting at the table by the window, peering out through the glass window nervously. When he saw him, he quickly raised his hand and waved, showing an expression of relief.

This is an envelope you can buy anywhere. Although the calligraphy on the envelope is not that beautiful, it is generally in neat block letters. The recipient written on it is "Mr. Sekiguchi Shoichi". Sekiguchi Shoichi... This is Chikako's husband. Such an envelope has been sent three months ago. Usually one letter comes every month or half a month. The sender's name is "Kakutaro Tamai" and his address is No. ××, Matsubara 5-machi, Setagaya-ku. Of course, the font looks like it was written by a man. Sekiguchi Shoichi has been the president of the Omori branch of Dayang Bank, a city bank, for more than two years.

No one here in Li House believes me. I think this may be the reason why what I tell is the truth. They even used lie detectors. Even the machines believed me, but they still didn't believe me, saying that the accuracy of the lie detector was only 98%, and I might be the remaining desperate 2%. I remember that the definition of truth in the book is that what the speaker believes is the truth. I don't agree with, for example, "God be with you". For devout believers, this is an out-and-out truth, but for me, this is nonsense. I had never seen God in my vision. "I really don't know where the money is."

An eerie man in black suddenly appeared at Gordon's door. He said in a toneless, gloomy and creepy voice: "I'm going to kill you, Gordon! I'm going to kill you!" Gordon was trembling with fright at this sudden and gloomy terror, and his originally healthy and rosy face suddenly turned pale; he fell stiffly into the big chair next to the table, his big fat hands tightly grasping the corners of the table, and exclaimed: "Jackson!" The murderer in black burial clothes had a murderous look on his face, looked straight ahead, and stretched his hands toward Gordon like eagle talons, getting closer and closer. Gordon screamed again: "Stop! Jackson, what did I do to you?" The answer was still the same monotonous and harsh sentence: "I'm going to kill you, Gordon!"

The crowd suddenly became restless. Several people in charge on the stage tried their best to suppress the situation, but all their efforts seemed to be in vain. In the end, they could only dance funny on the stage. But she still maintained her previous posture, placing her hands restlessly on the podium, and it could be clearly seen that they were shaking slightly. Under the eyes full of anxiety, on both sides of the tip of the small nose, the wings of the nose kept rising and falling with the breathing. The lips were slightly raised and closed, as if praying silently. The whole person seemed to exude a faint sadness.

Tomaszewski was tired, he felt exhausted. Even though he was driving his stolen Volkswagen along Corte-Schulmacher Strasse at considerable speed, he kept closing his eyes. He had to close his eyes for a while before he could continue to endure the waves of painful fatigue. As much as he tried not to cry, tears flowed to his upper lip. The Jim he had just drank had given him a very strong sense of self-pity. Why didn't he have the strength to abandon everything and pursue the peace he longed for? Why didn't he die as a child, say, twelve years old, before life had laid its full weight on his shoulders?

The February morning was bone-chillingly cold. Before dawn, a figure flashed across the slopes of the Sierra Mountains. He moved gently like a ghost among the frost-covered trees. The pine needles stung his cheeks like sharp nails. He stopped, carefully pushed aside a branch and looked down the mountain. Through a gap in the forest, the dim lake surface can be vaguely seen. His eyes swept across the lake, carefully determining his position. The hut was still under the cover of night, and only a little light on the other side of the lake could be seen in the distance, like a twinkling star. That light must be at the commercial dock. His destination was not far away. The forested slopes are very steep and extend all the way to the lake shore.

In the late autumn of 1892, I had the opportunity to solve another case brilliantly with my good friend Sherlock Holmes. My wife has been in poor health recently, and I had a hard time convincing her to go to Switzerland to recuperate, accompanied by her old school friend Kate Whitney. I guess you still remember the name Kate Whitney. She appeared in the case I published before titled "The Man with the Crooked Lip". My medical business has been booming recently, which has kept me busy for several months. I really want to take a vacation to rest. But I don't want to be away from my job for too long, and I have no intention of living in the Alps for a long time. Later, I promised my wife that I would accompany her there for a short break for a week or ten days, and she agreed to come down. At that time, I had an old patient whose condition was quite serious. It was not until the end of August that he started to recover. So I safely entrusted the business to a temporary doctor and began to think about the best place to go on vacation.

Ashikawa Yuko stood at the door. In order to stabilize her emotions, Xizi took a deep breath. The time was half past six in the evening, and the surroundings were shrouded in darkness. Among the many buildings of the same style, the home of actress Mi Sanada looks particularly magnificent. Ashikawa Yuko rang the doorbell, and after a sound of footsteps and a "coming" reply, Sanada Mi opened the door with brisk steps. She was a beauty in her twenties, exuding a youthful atmosphere. "I am Ashikawa's wife, and I have something to tell you." Upon hearing this, Sanada Mei's face showed a nervous look. "Please come in!" She said and handed over a pair of slippers.

It rained heavily on Sunday. A gust of wind hit, and the willow tree in the courtyard was blown down, and the willow silk whipped the wet ground. "Will this rain ever end?" Gordon Ruhle muttered. He and Maxime were standing on the porch chatting. "It's true," Maxime said with a smile, "Halbich had a date yesterday, so why didn't it rain?" "I'm sorry he didn't dare." Maximeer naturally remembered Gordon's comment about Halbig: This man has the ability to walk through a heavy rain naked without even getting a hair wet.

Mrs. Morlay always thought that if the hand of fate had pointed out to us that afternoon that the Café Martí in Regent Street instead of the Café Lyon was the most preferable place for afternoon tea, M. Culéton might still be alive now. My favorite detective in the Metropolitan Police is Mrs. Morley. She was convinced - and it goes without saying that I believe in her confidence - that she would have prevented the murderer from achieving his goals by striking preemptively and thereby averting one of the most brutal murders ever committed in the heart of London.

The last time the Robbins family was together during their lifetimes was at Greenfield Manor in Maryland. That time, all six children came from all over the country to celebrate the 40th wedding anniversary of their parents, Taylor and Evelyn. Tyler Robbins is 61 years old. He is tall, muscular and has an aggressive aura. He looks to be in his early 50s. He is chairman and president of Robbins Cosmetics Company. Their family's company has billions of assets and is always ranked among the top 20 of the 500 richest companies. Evelyn Robbins was two years younger than her husband. She was an elegant, slim and charming woman who always attracted the attention of men wherever she went. The eldest son, Marshall, 34, was the child who disappointed his father the most.

After dinner, Kui Xiaofu and his wife Ayako were talking in the living room. The couple are both lawyers, and the topics usually involve the cases they undertake. "Now I accepted a strange case, a criminal case." Kui Xiaofu said. "What's the crime?" Ayako asked, crossing her feet in front of the sofa. "Crime of theft. I have never heard of such a strange theft, so I accepted the case rashly. Now I feel that if the public trial starts, the outcome will be unpredictable, and I am worried about this matter." "What kind of person is the defendant?" "A twenty-one-year-old girl, very beautiful. Gee, that girl doesn't look like she is twenty-one at all. She is so innocent... No matter how you look at it, she looks like a teenage girl."

Guang Zhongzhao is the household registration officer of the municipal government. It is said to be a city government, but in fact it is just an agency - an office in a new residential area along the private railway. Guangzhong Zhao's workload is very limited. Every morning, he sat in his office with a lunch box prepared by his wife, doing his job mechanically, which was quite relaxing and comfortable. The pastoral scenery still remains around the office. The wind blowing in from the window and the sound of helicopters coming from the distance became his lullaby after lunch. In fact, he often dropped the pencil in his hand on the ground when he was sleepy, but this did not prevent him from completing his work.

Sachiko only realized this in March. It was a bitterly cold and gloomy afternoon. Sachiko often walked side by side with Youji in the streets with arcades and narrow shops in the city center. That day the two of them were walking towards the suburban tram terminal. Yoji is the half-brother of Sachiko's husband, Shoichi, and is twenty-six years old. He is a bachelor who is two years younger than Sachiko. Perhaps due to the nature of his job as an advertising agency producer, he is very sociable. He has a slender figure, always wears a crisp suit, and has more or less the air of a playboy. The two of them had just watched a preview screening of a French movie in a building at the end of the shopping street and were on their way home. Sachiko has been married for more than half a year and has not yet given birth.

Tomaszewski was tired, he felt exhausted. Even though he was driving his stolen Volkswagen along Corte-Schulmacher Strasse at considerable speed, he kept closing his eyes. He had to close his eyes for a while before he could continue to endure the waves of painful fatigue. As much as he tried not to cry, tears flowed to his upper lip. The Jim he had just drank had given him a very strong sense of self-pity. Why didn't he have the strength to abandon everything and pursue the peace he longed for? Why didn't he die when he was still a child, say, twelve years old, before life had laid its full weight on his shoulders?

It's exactly two o'clock in the afternoon. Someone opened the small door at the end of the corridor, looked at the man inside who looked abnormal among the seven or eight deer-headed mice, and waved to him casually, telling him that he could go out. The man didn't seem happy and followed him out in dismay. In the office area, he signed and had his fingerprints printed. The policeman in charge looked at him and seemed to feel that it was a pity for such a man to have five people and six people. He said earnestly: "Don't commit any crime again in the future. He is a good young man. There is nothing wrong with him." Shi Jun dug out the other person's eyes fiercely, threw the pen away and turned away. Huo Gang, who came to ransom someone, said a few polite words to his friend and followed him out unhurriedly.

Just after 10 a. M., The wind picked up. In the lobby of the prefectural hospital, which has a bird's eye view of the coast, there is no hurried scene in the twelfth lunar month - there are no patients queuing up to receive medicines, no visitors to visit patients, and no nurses rushing past like a whirlwind. Whenever I come to this hospital, the scene is the same. There is always an air of isolation in this hospital with its iron-framed windows. This should be the last time I come to this hospital this year! Kaise Masayuki thought this while filling out the visit form. He is the planning investigator of the Police Division of the J County Police Headquarters, with the rank of police inspector. He is 44 years old. In order to implement the organizational reforms in the coming spring, Kaise has countless tasks that must be completed within the year.

"In the end, these green mountains will remember our warmth, and the winter wind will send our thoughts to us in the spring. I hope Matsumoto Shota-kun can live happily in that unknown place to us." After reading this paragraph, the priest in a black coat closed the Bible that was barely used in his hand. He sniffed his nose, which was red from the cold, and ran to the small SUV parked on the roadside of the mountain. "Thank you all for coming today. Now please follow the car down the mountain. Lunch is ready." A boy who looked like a high school student waved to everyone and shouted loudly, his voice becoming a little confused in the strong wind that blew from time to time. The crowd was bustling and dispersed wider. They each walked towards their cars, and the originally solemn atmosphere became lively.

As soon as Wang Dong opened the car door, he saw the building from a distance, with earth-red walls, dark blue sloping roof, and several windows on the front, which reflected white light spots under the sunlight. Although it was too far away to see clearly, the building was so conspicuous in this wilderness that Wang Dong spotted it at first sight. "It should be right here." Wang Dong took out his luggage from the trunk of the car, then took out his wallet and counted the fare. The driver glanced at the thick stack of banknotes in Wang Dong's wallet, coughed dryly and said with a smile: "Brother, look at this guy who's in the middle of nowhere and has no passengers. He's going back to the city to burn empty gas. Can... Can you add some?" Wang Dong glanced at him and took an extra fifty and handed it to him.

Lu Xiaoci came to Company M to "lurk" and uncover the murderer of a case she witnessed ten years ago. She didn't have to go to such trouble. She only needed to take two days off, wait for the person like a plainclothes policeman by the gate of Company M, and then figure out who that person was. The rest could be left to the police. She only had to be a good witness. Unexpectedly, emergencies followed one after another, and things became more and more complicated. If Lu Xiaoci hadn't been so bored that day that she went to a newly opened restaurant to eat, then she would probably still be hanging around in her original company. The restaurant was full of diners that day, and when the salesperson who had just taken up the job was clumsily bringing a portion of bacon and stir-fried cauliflower, he bumped into a man who was eating at the next table. The moment the man turned back, Lu Xiaoci felt like a 2D movie suddenly changed into a 3D format, and the man's face suddenly popped into Lu Xiaoci's brain.

A large wave suddenly surged up, knocking a ship to one side and almost capsized. On such a stormy night, ordinary ships would have taken shelter in the harbor to avoid the waves. No one knew why this ship went to sea in such weather. This is actually not a small boat, but a lucky boat made in Fujian. Fortune ships have always been famous for their huge size. When the Three Treasures eunuchs went to the West in the early days of the Kingdom, the treasure ships they took were also based on the fortune ship drawings. Although this ship is not as huge as the treasure ship, its hull length exceeds six feet, making it a rare giant ship. However, no matter how big the boat is, it is still no different from a grain of corn in the sea. It is thrown to the top of the waves and sinks to the bottom of the waves. If this ship hadn't been built extremely solidly, it would have fallen apart long ago.

As we enter the depths of winter, the nights also lengthen. Under the gloomy sky in Tokyo, light snow has been falling for several days, and a rare sub-zero low temperature forecast appeared on TV programs. The Chinese dumpling restaurant on the corner reflected orange lights, and the sliding glass door was blurred by the steaming hot air inside. "Okay, your four portions of boiled dumplings plus two portions of fried dumplings." The proprietress looked at the four young people in front of her with a smile. "Thank you!" The young man with dyed flaxen-blond hair took the plate. He was the liveliest one among the group. He had been making trouble since he walked in. His face was a little red after drinking, and his delicate outline gave people the impression that he was still a high school student.

Late at night, a woman in loose clothes stood alone on the rooftop of the building. The wind was strong and kept lifting her clothes and hair. The woman pressed her right hand on her lower abdomen. The changing light of the giant billboard in front intertwined with her expressionless face. From a distance, the little person stood in the middle of the four flame-cast characters of "Mingguang Group", like a black matchstick. Tomorrow Star TV jumps between different news channels. ... A blockbuster release of research results shocked the entire academic world.