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On the third day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, we finally arrived at Survival Island. It has been gloomy these past few days. Legend has it that there is a treasure buried on the island that was dowed by a princess a long time ago. I don't know if it is true. In the next few days, what kind of challenges will meet us... Aliang closed the diary, put the suitcase aside casually, and lay comfortably in the hotel room. At this time, there was a "bang" and the door opened. The person who came in was A Liang's classmate, Wu Wen Ting. "Don't be so arrogant. The day after tomorrow is the challenge of survivability. We can't lose to other groups!" Wen Ting patted A Liang on the shoulder as soon as he came in. "Hmph! Do you think I am willing to come to this place where nothing matters? If it weren't for you..." At this point, A Liang closed his eyes in anger.

On the third day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, we finally arrived at Survival Island. It has been gloomy these past few days. Legend has it that there is a treasure buried on the island that was dowed by a princess a long time ago. I don't know if it is true. In the next few days, what kind of challenges will meet us... Aliang closed the diary, put the suitcase aside casually, and lay comfortably in the hotel room. At this time, there was a "bang" and the door opened. The person who came in was A Liang's classmate, Wu Wen Ting. "Don't be so arrogant. The day after tomorrow is the challenge of survivability. We can't lose to other groups!" Wen Ting patted A Liang on the shoulder as soon as he came in. "Hmph! Do you think I am willing to come to this place where nothing matters? If it weren't for you..." At this point, A Liang closed his eyes in anger.

(Rawson, 1906-1971) Creighton Rawson, a master of impossible crime stories, worked as a stage conjurer or, to be more precise, a magician, and later wrote a series of novels and short stories featuring Merlini. Melini is a magician who is often called upon by the police to help solve rare murder cases. The first work in the series, "Death from a Top Hat" (1938), was made into the movie "Miracles for Sale" (1939), describing a series of criminal incidents involving magic. This novel launched Rosen's second career as a writer and editor. Rosen and John Dixon Carr enjoyed challenging each other's creative abilities.

After the incident of "The Divine Thief Shen Yiwei hiding in Linyin Inn" was settled, Bai Muyi and the other five left Chengdu Mansion the next day and traveled all the way. When I arrived in Qingcheng County that day, I visited Dujiangyan. Bai Muyi talked about the history of Dujiangyan with great interest. Su Ru and Yue Qiuxu couldn't help but nodded, but they heard Shang Xueqi exclaim - "Magic lamps will appear in Qingcheng Mountain at night! Old man, are you telling the truth?" "I just saw it three days ago, around the time of Unitary Time. I was walking through the mountain road carrying firewood, and suddenly countless light spots lit up in the forest, as if lamps were floating around. Not long after, the surrounding area was illuminated by these magic lamps for miles, making it like daytime."

The full moon shone on the snow-capped ground, and he finally reached the house with difficulty and staggering, right? ! The man slumped on the sofa had a knife stuck in his back... Judging from the discontinuous lines on the weather map, it would snow after noon, but I didn't expect it to be so heavy. At first, there were only floating snowflakes. After nightfall, it gradually became thicker, like goose feather-like peony snow, and it looked like it would rain all night. But unexpectedly, before nine o'clock, it stopped suddenly. As usual, this time's weather forecast is far from reality - but those weather experts should not be ridiculed as "worms eating taxpayers' hard-earned money."

After he disappeared, I was stunned for a moment, and then walked along the lonely and silent corridor to the elevator. As soon as I entered the restaurant, I found Mrs. Lufur already sitting in her seat at the dining table. I greeted her coldly, then slowly opened my napkin and stared at her quietly from the corner of my eyes. I saw her wearing a brown coat and a pleated skirt, and she was very beautifully dressed. Her ex-husband had just been buried, and I felt very uncomfortable when she dressed up so frivolously. I privately regarded her as a new widow, and Wilber had nothing new to say with her. Speaking of the land in the cemetery, Wilber said: "It would be safer to buy a piece of land in the new cemetery as soon as possible. I heard that the price of land will increase sharply soon. I have already selected a piece of land and asked a stonemason to carve a beautiful and cheap stone tablet for me.

This is the house that Jack built. (This is the house that Jack built.) Duras was impatient and tore off the tape from the tightly tied young lady's mouth. The young lady stared at him. Duras stared at her with his eyes, and the beautiful fine-grained hardwood handle dagger in his hand suddenly pierced the heart of the man beside her who was also tied tightly. The guy only trembled twice and then died. When the young lady saw this scene, she just opened her mouth wide and couldn't utter a single sound. Her head dropped, and her whole body began to tremble.

Not far away, the sea breeze rolled up the waves and beat them towards Rao Xiaoyi and Guo Xudong. Rao Xiaoyi finally closed her complaining mouth. The world between Guo Xudong's ears fell silent at the moment when the waves were raging. The roar and roar of the sea and wind, compared with Rao Xiaoyi's constant complaints all the way, are like the obedient silence of nature. Guo Xudong had only been married to Rao Xiaoyi for less than five hours, and he couldn't bear it anymore. He never thought that the soft red mouth that he was so obsessed with would talk so many words endlessly. "What kind of place is this? Is this also called a honeymoon?" Rao Xiaoyi pouted, "Look at this damn place, there are no shops, not even a human figure." One drop, another drop... An iron rod can be ground into a needle, and a drop of water can penetrate his strong endurance.

Alexei did not know how dangerous the mission Colonel Okonelov was about to send him. At this moment, he was still leisurely chewing the chewing gum given to him by the US military observer the day before yesterday, while carefully polishing his beloved German-made Mauser Kar98k sniper rifle. This gun was a trophy he obtained after killing a German sniper with a Browning with only two bullets left during the defense of Minsk. It was July 2, 1941, and the German army had just occupied Minsk. The large German army was also heading towards Smolensk. I heard that these bastards would capture Moscow before Christmas. The gradually pessimistic atmosphere, together with the flames of war, spread little by little in the western part of the Soviet Union.

Mystery writers met, but in the first snow of winter, a writer's body was found in her cabin. Who killed her? Can they pass this real-life test? Unexpectedly, the villa is so big. The outer wall is made of thick logs. Although the structure is not very particular, the upper and lower floors are nearly 100 square feet. The courtyard doesn't feel very big. But if you think of the Nasu Plateau that stretches out in front of your house as your own garden, the situation will change dramatically. This villa is not owned by one person, but is a property shared by several of my mystery writer friends. That was five or six years ago.

When the door opened, Xu Ke stayed on the spot. In front of him was a naked woman. Xu Ke couldn't believe his eyes, but he knew he was right. It was indeed a living person, with a snow-white body, and his eyes were looking at Xu Ke. Zhong Xiaoxiu got up very late today. She had a long dream. The scenes from her childhood were floating in her dream, which made her feel very sweet. But now she had a splitting headache, and something seemed to be crawling in her brain, crawling on the meninges of her brain, as if it was punishing her for the dream just now. After taking a shower and having breakfast, the headache didn't subside at all. I sat on the sofa and rubbed my temples until my eyes were dizzy and dim. Suddenly, she found that the room was lifeless, with no sound, no smell, and the air was solid.

Writer Bai Zhigao loves life because life has begun to love him. He told his colleagues that this month he would end his single life and marry the most beautiful girl in Funing City. The most beautiful girl in Funing City is Liu Maimai, the editor of "Absurdity" magazine. The writers in Bai Zhigao's Writers Association all know her because her novel "The Most Beautiful Girl in City B" once caused a sensation. The content of the novel is very simple. It is about a beauty contest held in City B. The winner is a girl who has a history of drug abuse and has now quit.

The phone went into the bottle on February 7, 7:30 pm. The Ocean Conference Hall in City L was packed with people and the seats were packed. Thousands of spectators gathered here because a stunning stage magic was about to be performed - the human body penetrated the stone wall. The performer was Cathy, a legend in the magic world. Cathy is a Chinese-English mixed race, with a long oval face, a pointed aquiline nose, eyebrows like the moon, bright eyes like stars, handsome appearance, and heroic spirit. He is an out-and-out handsome man. As early as twelve years ago, 18-year-old Cathy made her debut on stage in Las Vegas, USA. She shocked everyone with her skills and shocked the entire magic world with her superb magic skills. Then, in just a few months, he became recognized as the world's top magician.

The rest of the night is already over, and another all-nighter is here. Lights were already shining through the windows of some houses. Those who work the early morning shift are getting up; others, the lucky ones, are staying still for a while longer. But I haven't laid down to sleep yet. There are so many things going on, because I hold the position of Acting Director. Yesterday was a very busy day. It was already one o'clock at night when I got home. But the phone rang again: "Is it Vinyamin. Is it Alexanderovich? Lieutenant Vasyutin is disturbing you! A man named Sulin who was on a business trip was shot at the Dawn Hotel and was seriously injured. Golyunov, the scout of the Procuratorate, and the doctor are already at the hotel."

The name was changed to "Yu Ji" only three years ago, and Lao Ge believed that the surname here was still Tang. From the Qing Dynasty to the Republic of China, Lao Ge felt unspeakably depressed when he saw all the changes around him. Only under this gold-lettered signboard, and only Boss Tang's face that has grown from prosperity to decline, can Lao Ge feel a sense of belonging in the ironing business. Unfortunately, even it is gone now. When Lao Ge was still little Ge, he was led through the door under the plaque of "Maochang" in a daze. He couldn't remember whether he knelt down on his own initiative or whether he was pushed to the ground. My impression of that scene was as blurry as frosted glass. It probably meant that if a man said "good" a few times, he would be considered a master.

This is what vacation should be like. There was a scorching sun above my head, the intoxicating sound of the waves was listening to my ears, I was breathing in the fresh air full of the smell of sea water, and I was accompanied by a brown-skinned girl wearing a bikini. I never thought I would be lucky enough to take a break like this, but it turned out to be a reality. It was the first time since I arrived at the police station to enjoy a one-week vacation in the summer. I was also the first lucky person in this department, especially since I was promoted to the first team leader. In the summer of several years, several major cases occurred in succession, even on Sundays. A few years have passed, and once I was given a vacation, I didn't know how to spend it.

On a clear winter afternoon, nine children in the town of Clayton, along with their school bus driver, disappeared. These kids are bused to Lakeview district schools every day and it's like they just vanished from the world. In fact, the upset people in Clayton town all suspected this after the incident, and even those who couldn't figure it out for a while felt that this statement made sense. Of course, the disappearance of nine children, one adult, and one car, especially the school bus, has nothing to do with outer space or supernatural phenomena. This is a "masterpiece" of people with ulterior motives.

It was a closed space of only seven or eight square meters. The space was pitch black without any light. The surrounding space was filled with mold and moisture, making people feel extremely uncomfortable. At this moment, I am staying in this space. I haven't drank water for a long time. My lips and tongue are chapped. My brain has begun to lack oxygen and is extremely unclear. My head hurts, it's like the pain of being stabbed by a sharp needle! His consciousness became increasingly blurred, and his eyelids slowly drooped. In a daze, my body seemed to be slowly getting smaller, even turning into a point, and my thoughts seemed to gradually leave my body and float into the distance. Finally, in the weird feeling of reality and illusion, I completely lost consciousness.

This novel contains narrative contrivances, please read it carefully and pay attention to every detail. I sincerely hope that all readers can see through all the tricks, and I sincerely hope that I can deceive everyone. When I opened the window, a breeze blew in my face, bringing with it the smell of spring. The willow trees on the roadside are sprouting again, and I will think of her every time at this time. That was when I was in high school. Our school was a terrible high school. The teachers didn't teach seriously and obviously didn't expect anyone to get into college. The students don't study hard either, they just want to survive until they graduate.

It lies quietly in a large expanse of lush but silent cattail grass. The scorching sun has nothing to do with it. It only passes by the corner of its clear blue edge in the evening, casting a soft golden halo. Overhead, the bridge cut across by the highway became even more silent amidst the noise of vehicles and insects. It's August, the busiest month of the year in Montreal. The childish voice comes from far to near. "Brother Zhiyu, is it really here?" Xueer pouted and pulled the boy in front of her who was concentrating on playing with the cattails. This is a secret under the highway. The paddy fields that were abandoned in the early years have now become scattered swamps. Not long ago, there were heavy rains in Mengcheng. The cattails with fat leaves were moistened and lazily basking in the sun. Few people can find this place.

At six o'clock this morning, on the top of a mountain on the edge of the city, there was a "ruby" shining brightly and dimly. Fire! "Everyone who saw it woke up and shouted, panicked and picked up the phone to call the police. The hut stood on the top of a bare cliff. The wind was fierce. Fortunately, the fire was controlled and did not spread to the city below the mountain. The silence was more terrifying than the noise. Everyone was waiting for the moment when the beams collapsed, which was the last arrogance of the flames. The strong wind piled up the clouds into a surging vortex, covering them up. Light rain began to fall from the sky. "Boom! "At the moment of the huge thunder, the beams collapsed and the fire weakened. Several wisps of black smoke rose up like the soul of the house and escaped into the sky. Several weak small fires were scattered in disorder, but they were no longer powerful. Just as the fire fighters breathed a sigh of relief, heavy rain poured down.

The mottled and dim light moves mysteriously. The further forward it goes, the deeper it hides, until finally no light can be seen at all. There was only an eerie blackness left in the distance, as if it was about to swallow everything. The voice of the teacher lecturing came from behind, and the already weak voice seemed even more vague in the dense darkness in front, making people shudder. Even the nose seemed to smell the breath of death coming from there. "Is this... The legendary cursed toilet?" I asked the person next to me through gritted teeth. "Yes, that's it." Ren Nianhang, who was standing next to me, answered briefly, as if he didn't want to say another word. Ren Nianhang is a student of this high school. He is a basketball player on the school team. He is of medium build, but very strong. He has a square face, prominent brow bones, and a rough face.

There was a rapid knock on the door. Murong Sixuan frowned slightly, gently put down the copy of "Crime in the Leaning House" by Shoji Shimada in his hand, opened the door, and saw a young man with a clear face standing outside the door. The young man was smiling and full of energy, which was in sharp contrast to Si Xuan's dull eyes and dull expression under his messy hair. "Yu Shen?" Si Xuan whispered. The young man's name is Yu Shen, he is Si Xuan's friend and he calls himself a magician. "Let's go!" Yu Shen said bluntly, "There are still twenty minutes!"

The exit at 83 kilometers of the Qinling section of Provincial Highway 401 branches off into a long and narrow road, with patches of spruce trees standing on both sides of the road. Following a directional sign with the arrow "Biyun Pavilion" written on it at the fork in the road, the car turned onto a narrow road, and the silver Citroen drove straight to the end of the road. The fog slowly lifted, and a beautifully built three-story blue-green bungalow with a white roof appeared in the windshield window frame. There were five private cars parked in the cement space downstairs. I moved the car in a direction and moved it closer. Lock the car, walk up a few steps, reach out and press the bell next to the main door. The door was opened, and it was a woman wearing a light blue coat who opened the door. This woman had fair skin and a charming face. Her black hair, dyed with light yellow, was tied up in a bun at the back of her head. A curtain of neatly cut short hair on her forehead obliquely covered her eyebrows. There was a slight smile on her lips. She is my high school classmate - Song Yunqing. "Tingjing, you're here. Come in quickly."

In a refugee camp in China, a dirty rescue medical team flag fluttered over the refugee camp. One kilometer away was a fierce battlefield. The sound of small-arms fire was as dense as an airtight net. There were also constant sounds of explosions. The rumble of helicopters circling shook the devastated land. In the first-aid tent, an Oriental man held a scalpel in his hand. He wore a mask on his face and could only see a pair of eyes full of anger and sorrow. In front of him was a seven or eight-year-old girl with pale complexion and dilated pupils.

It was snowing heavily outside the window that day, but the newspaper and periodical reference room of K University Library was as orderly and quiet as usual. The only sound that could be heard was the pen tip scratching across the notebook. But not long after, a student stood up and suddenly let out a terrifying scream, which caused many students present to raise their heads in surprise. Everyone began to whisper, wondering what happened to him. He is Zhang Wendong, a student from the Department of Journalism. He was here today to check information for his graduation thesis. He borrowed a set of old newspapers and after carefully excerpting notes for a long time, he became a little tired and casually browsed various news reports at that time as a pastime. Then, a yellowed corner of the newspaper jumped into his sight.

I was dressed in a brand-name outfit and ready to go out on a date. The driver was waiting for me at the door. The person I was dating was an alumnus of mine from college who is currently working as a reporter for a magazine. We didn't know each other well when we were students. I started dating her after I moved here after I got married. The meeting place was arranged in a corner of the busy city, which seemed to be a place of tranquility amidst the hustle and bustle. There were few customers in the coffee shop, and the soft nostalgic English melody slowly flowed out, giving people a feeling of relaxation. I dismissed the driver and followed the waiter to the reserved seat with intellectual steps. My friend's name is Ning Xin, but she has a fashionable French name of Yvonne. She had arrived first. "You're finally here."

Toru Miyoshi: Born in Tokyo in 1931, his original name was Kawakami Yuzo. He graduated from the Department of Economics of National University. In 1950, he joined the Yomiuri Shimbun as an editor. In 1959, he wrote "Far Life" under the pseudonym Toru Miyoshi and was selected for second place in the 8th "Literary Circle" Newcomer Award. "Maple Dust Zone" in 1966 won the 20th Japan Mystery Writers Association Award. In the same year, he retired and became a professional writer. "Saint Girl" in 1968 also won the 58th Naoki Award. Miyoshi Toru also served as the chairman of the Japan Mystery Writers Association for two years in 1979, following Hiroshi Sano.

At 9 o'clock that night, the down-and-out poet Qiu Tian stumbled forward and came across a telephone pole covered with colorful advertisements. He raised his hand to hug it and touched it, muttering to himself: "Why has the bulletin board become thinner?" Two boys He was riding a skateboard, wearing a cultural shirt and wide denim shorts. He laughed loudly and said loudly: "Hey, look! He's almost drunk." After saying that, he jumped past Qiu Tian like two happy flying fish in the sea. The poor poet Qiu Tian didn't know that he was being pointed at, so he looked up to find out who was drunk. It didn't matter if he raised his head, the only blood in his body could no longer flow to his brain, causing his eyes to darken and he sat down on the ground. After adapting for a while, Qiu Tian finally opened his eyes. It didn't matter that he opened it, he saw the sky. The sky was dark, dotted with some twinkling stars, like a drunken man smashing the sky.

"But you have already made sure that no one who enters the theater for rehearsals has anything sharp with them," Zhuang Yunmo stared at Chu Yinjiang and said, ""Missing the Wind" is a summer costume play. After we were so carefully inspected, there is no way we would bring a knife to the stage." Chu Yinjiang looked at the stage. Ji Yu, who was lying down, looked at the fatal cut on her neck. He turned around and said to everyone in front of him: "As the president, although I know who the murderer is, I still want to give you some hints - no one said that it must be a knife that killed Ji Yu." Everyone looked at each other, Mu Tian seemed to want to say something, but did not say it.

Miyuki Miyabe: Also translated as Miyuki Miyabe, Japanese writer. His original surname was Yabe, and he was born in Tokyo on December 23, 1960. He was born on the same day as Yukito Ayagagi, who is also a mystery writer. Graduated from Tokyo Metropolitan Sumidagawa High School and entered a law firm at the age of 23. During the day, he worked as a stenographer in a law firm, and at night, he went to a novel writing workshop hosted by "Kodansha" to learn writing. The person in charge of the seminar was Masao Yamamura, the chairman of the Japan Mystery Writers Association, and the lecturers were all famous writers at the time. Miyabe has a wide range of writing and has won numerous awards. His works are roughly classified into three major systems: mystery novels, period novels and fantasy novels.

The incident occurred in the autumn of Meiji 42. In the autumn of this year, Korean director Hirobumi Ito was shot three times and fell to the ground at Harbin Station. The three gunshots that cut through the silent night in Manchuria were just like the sounds of the stable world situation that had been depressed and undercurrent since the Russo-Japanese War. Not only the seasons, but also the times are heading towards the dark winter and the last fallen leaves are dancing. The location is a corner of Shirasa Town, the vast samurai mansion that surrounded the former Tokugawa shogunate. At night, there was a sudden gust of wind. The sound of the wind cut through the dark night and condensed into silence again. At this time, a ribbon-like white night scene appeared on the long stone wall outside the samurai mansion, as if even the night dust had been swept away-at least at that time.

In the dim room, a small lamp on the desk was dimly lit. The room was dark, and nothing else could be seen clearly. The rain outside the window has stopped, and the water drops hanging on the window glass are slowly sliding down, forming a thin stream, like a line of tears on the face. The remaining rain was dripping sparsely on the eaves. Outside the eaves, the gray sky was chaotic, with no sign that the sun was about to rise. A clock crouched in the dim light above the fireplace, whining like a hungry beast in its throat.

Guiyuanpu "Hello, I'm Han Shi." "Hello, I'm Ying Xiaoque." This is a very interesting client - Ying Xiaoque concluded in his heart, the corners of his mouth rising unconsciously. Yes, it was this "eye-catching" man in front of her. From the moment she stepped into the shop, she concluded that he would never be just a customer who came to drink. No one dresses like him, and his age is hard to guess. The outfit starts from the bottom up - bright blue knee-length plastic shoes, khaki vertical striped trousers, a purple V-neck hollow sweater, a lifelike black butterfly made of feathers crawling on his shoulders, and a round hat on his head. On the wide brim is a gray-red rose that has been cut and inserted diagonally.

The incident occurred in the autumn of Meiji 42. In the autumn of this year, Korean director Hirobumi Ito was shot three times and fell to the ground at Harbin Station. The three gunshots that cut through the silent night in Manchuria were just like the sounds of the stable world situation that had been depressed and undercurrent since the Russo-Japanese War. Not only the seasons, but also the times are heading towards the dark winter and the last fallen leaves are dancing. The location is a corner of Shirasa Town, the vast samurai mansion that surrounded the former Tokugawa shogunate. At night, there was a sudden gust of wind. The sound of the wind cut through the dark night and condensed into silence again. At this time, a ribbon-like white night scene appeared on the long stone wall outside the samurai mansion, as if even the night dust had been swept away-at least at that time.

When does it begin? When will it end? A very ridiculous thing happened to me. It seemed like an accident at first, then like a joke, but in the end I realized that it was actually very serious. The first time it happened was on the subway. At 10:40 pm, the last subway train from Tiantai Road to Renyi Square left. The carriage was empty, and there were seven people in total including me. The lamps embedded in the ceiling illuminated the entire carriage extravagantly, and long shadows were trailing under people's feet. Everyone seemed unwilling to gather in groups and were scattered in various parts of the carriage. Two middle-aged men who looked like they had just gotten off work sat opposite me one meter apart. One turned his head and looked out the window, and the other was concentrating on texting. A young couple stood close to each other at the end of the carriage, making small gestures with each other.

She is dead. The heart that was beating three seconds ago was still at this moment. Everyone is like a cold statue, their eyes converge on the corpse. I was stunned, and time seemed to stand still. The thin beads of sweat on the tip of Chen Tianyu's nose were the only activity in the silence. She quietly scanned the crowd. Sigh, softly and covertly. Next to her, Li Xiaowei buried her head so deep into her back that she was afraid that when she raised her head, she would see this terrifying scene again. The only boy in the room had a pale face and no trace of his masculine appearance. Xin Lei lowered her head, and the cards in her hand trembled with her fingers, making a clicking sound. There was silence everywhere, and the sky was spinning and the earth was dark.

I live in Haicheng, a gorgeous and impetuous city. For me, the biggest disappointments over the past twenty years have been two things. First, the novels I wrote never kept up with the market and were not noticed by publishers. Second, my extraordinary performance in the college entrance examination allowed me to enter the journalism school. Students who were admitted in the same class as me did not know something that was concealed by the school when they entered the school: a girl in the School of Journalism had an unexpected pregnancy while dating her boyfriend, and this incident was also spread at the time. The school's treatment of her was extremely simple and she was expelled from school! After that, the college sealed the matter away and banned students from discussing it until all the students of that class graduated. What made it resurface was an inexplicable phone message... That day, I took my resume and walked around various newspapers for a day.

Duras opened his briefcase and took out a stack of manuscripts: "Mr. Xia Ai, this is my new work "White Lecture Notes". Please give me your advice." He placed the manuscript on the small dining table in the guest room and sat down. There were a few pages that were slightly scattered, and Duras picked them back with his fingers. He did this very carefully, from top to bottom, one by one, using only his index finger. Mr. Xia Ai moved the armchair on the side of the desk over while watching. The chair was very heavy. Duras was concentrating on his own business and did not think of coming over to help. Moreover, when he felt someone sitting across from him, he also sat down on the dining chair next to him: "In my opinion, the manuscript handed over to the publishing house is a corpse. Of course, this is an artistic expression."

It has been more than a year since that serial killing incident. Looking back now, I still feel extremely sad. Perhaps, this is because I could have prevented this bloody storm. As early as a month before the summer vacation, the foreshadowing of it had been laid, but I was completely unaware of it at the time. That morning, everything started very normally, the sun was shining brightly and the birds were singing peacefully on the branches. To prevent the flu, I wear a mask to teach students. Unexpectedly, as soon as I went out, I heard someone calling my name across the street. I turned around and saw a girl dressed as a high school student waving to me across the street. But the noise of the traffic rushing between us made it difficult for me to hear what she was shouting.

After waiting for several months, the coveted transfer order finally arrived. Ming Fengzhen almost ran into the police station - she finally said goodbye to the boring job of household registration police. Now, she will soon become the subordinate of Yu Fei, a police officer who specializes in serious cases, which means that her life will undergo a qualitative change. The door of Yu Fei's office was crowded, and a large group of people surrounded the entrance. Ming Fengzhen stood on tiptoes and looked into the crowd, only to see Yu Fei following two black-faced police chiefs out of the office. No one spoke in the corridor. The quiet bustle made the atmosphere very strange. "Sir Yu?" Ming Fengzhen pushed through the crowd and ran over.

I was sitting in the gallery of the first courtroom of the District Court. It was a public trial in a murder case, and Judge Ishida was about to announce the outcome of the trial. The disheveled Juno Nishigaki stood in the dock. His face could not be seen from the auditorium, but I thought his face must be as pale and bloodless as before. I looked around. There were about fifty people in the auditorium, and Nishigaki's sister-in-law Sokeko Sanada was also present. Su Huizi is the sister of his wife Fuzi, who is the victim in this case. In addition, Kenzo Yajima and Shinichiro Uyama also came. The former was Nishigaki's former boss and the latter was Tomiko's father.

The night was already very deep, dark clouds obscured the stars, and the shadow of the moon hung dimly behind the clouds. The wind had become so biting at some point, and the long wind was like a herd of crazy bison running wildly on the ground full of piles of debris. In a blink of an eye, it poured into the few open windows on the fifth floor of the building. Wrapped in a dirty cotton-padded jacket, he ran into the room fearfully. Suddenly, the water under his feet made him shiver, as if he had heard a strange sound a minute ago. The sound was still banging, mixed with a young man's cry for help, dull and anxious. His flashlight shone on one of the lockers in the row opposite, and the sound came from there! "Help me, let me out! Is there anyone? Is there anyone outside? Help me out!" The voice seemed to shout for a long time.

She had the same dream over and over again. She stood in a forest filled with fallen leaves, and through the diffuse mist, at the end of the path, stood the tall figure of a man. In her dreams, her first reaction was always to run over and hug the man tightly. She had never seen that person's face clearly before. The eager and sad feelings were so real, but they no longer existed after she woke up. The girl sat up with her arms raised. The sky was dark and her forehead felt cold. The wind blew through the treetops, rustling like rain, and the white skirt was almost transparent in the moonlight.

When he walked out of Station N, the largest station in K, he felt the pleasant wind from a foreign land. There is still a bit of heat in the air in October. He slightly opened his collar, shrugged his shoulders, and walked through the crowded exit of the station. There was a roar of people in my ears, and I could vaguely hear the pigeons flying by in the nearby square. What a wonderful afternoon it was! He thought. Standing next to a statue opposite the station, he looked at the time. It was four forty-five in the afternoon, exactly every second.

Mikuri Shuhara is a good person, honest and reliable, very responsible, and always hardworking. Such people are rare now. This is an evaluation unanimously recognized by everyone. But good people are not necessarily good at everything. The worst thing is probably bad luck. Like Mikuri Shuhara, his luck has been particularly bad recently. It's really unlucky. Sanguri Shunhara is usually very kind and has many friends. But he only has two relatives: his brother Nobuo Mikuri and his wife Keiko Noguchi. This is already the only relative he has in the world. But in less than two months, even these last two relatives were lost. This is really a great misfortune.

On the afternoon of the third day after moving into a new residence in June 2014, I met a woman while carrying a bag of beer home. I don't know where it came from. On a hot day, I was wearing a winter coat and rummaging through the trash can on the open space outside my building. I rummaged through the trash can unscrupulously and made a mess in the originally clean and tidy area. It's quite excessive, isn't it? So I immediately went over and patted her, trying to stop her: "Don't turn over it, okay? The ground is a mess. Are you looking for something to eat? Can I give you some money?" After hearing this, she looked up at me.

Sunlight streamed in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the living room brightly. It was quiet inside Renjie Investigation Office. I was buried in front of the computer, concentrating on operating the keyboard and mouse, and together with my teammates, I launched the third wave of attacks on the enemy base. Speaking of which, it's really shameful to spend a sweet Valentine's Day like this. I vented my resentment on the Frost Sword, slashing, slashing, killing! For the tribe! The health bar of the enemy's base camp was about to be cleared. Waiting for my warrior Blood Fury Feilong Aotian to launch another big move - ding dong, ding dong, the doorbell rang at an inappropriate time.

This morning, Tonghua Town was in chaos for a while. There was no other reason. Cai Chu'er, a stranger who lived alone in the east of the town, was robbed by the Chihuo Immortal the night before. Cai Chi'er's original name was Cai Pingsheng. He had trouble studying in his early years and lost his family's land to floods for many years, so he ended up living here. I used to make a living by writing letters and painting with others, but then my business went bleak, so I started to have some crooked ideas. Because his maternal uncle was in the medicine business in the early years and had some knowledge of medicine, he mixed the cinnabar and realgar with some medicinal powders such as Tzu Shi and made some harmful pills for the entertainment of the rich children in the town. Because of this, he has never been well received by his neighbors. After eating the pills he made, people would feel itchy all over, so he was nicknamed Cai Chi'er.

It was already dusk when Dongqi arrived at the Huici Rehabilitation Center. Her uncle didn't come to pick her up, and she couldn't get through on the phone. Fortunately, she remembered the address, but no matter what, the driver would only drop her off at the end of the bridge. In desperation, Dongqi had no choice but to drag her suitcase, step by step across the river and through the mountains, to the door of the rehabilitation center. When her hand finally grasped the rusty door, Dongqi had no strength at all. She sat on the suitcase, panting, and looked at her internship location. Huici Rehabilitation Center is undoubtedly very old. Even the acrylic "heart" of the word "Huici" is gone, leaving only vague traces. It is a square three-story building with stucco walls. The wall-creeper on one side has climbed to the top of the building. There are no lights in the building, so it is too dark to see clearly. The windows are long and narrow.