When he arrived at Artemisia's house, a miserable scene suddenly made Ping Yu almost faint. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Fortunately, after a while, Ping Yu woke up, and she saw such a scene:

The large living room of about 60 square meters is simple and comfortable, giving people the feeling that the owner is a person with a very artistic taste.

On an artistic wall, there is a TV set with a picture of forty or fifty square meters, which looks very exquisite, this kind of TV is said to be digital, and there is no sales in China, and the owner is obviously very advanced.

Directly in front of the TV, a circle of fabric sofas, with huge auspicious phoenix tail leaves blooming in the black background, shining with golden light, looks very atmospheric and luxurious.

A large coffee table made of granite stone rests in it, giving room for people to stand, and it shrinks dramatically.

Pingwei fell on the small coffee table with a small water dispenser in the corner of the door, and the telephone that made the last call was placed on the second layer of glass, with a snow-white color, very eye-catching.

Pingwei's temples were still dripping with blood, and a long black and bright slender eye was staring straight ahead, and the black eyes of justice and courage in the past seemed to be an unwilling stubbornness, a surprise of unbelief, and a confusion that had to be had.

The other eye, due to the gunshot at the temple, was completely gone, and the eye area was a blur of flesh and blood.

He was no longer breathing, and his pulse was no longer beating.

Hao Hao was lying next to the door of the separate room, his chest was a bloody mess.

Artemisia Yanran was lying on her side, lying on the edge of the sofa, the bullet was obviously also shot into her chest, and the blood-red hollow embroidered faintly transparent pajamas had already blended with the blood, and she couldn't distinguish the color, but her bewitching face still had her usual arrogant smile~

While arranging for the criminal police to call the technical investigators and forensic doctor Xiao Xiao to come to investigate the scene, Ping Wei walked into Hao Yanran's room by himself.

In the dark, there is a gut feeling that she will have a lot to gain.

Sure enough, at the head of the bed in Hao Yanran's bedroom, Ping Yu saw a few pieces of letterhead, which read:

The entanglement of dreams

I always have a dream lately, which is always entangled in my sleep: one day, I suddenly heard that Pingwei and I died, and I believe that Pingwei's heart must have fallen suddenly, and it hurts very much, it hurts, but there are no tears.

This is the only girlfriend in my life -

I think I am really touched by the media coverage of my untimely death.

I can only chew my darkness and filth alone, destroy myself myself, I cannot beg for mercy and help, and I cannot pour out my remorse and vanity to the man who seems to cover up his vain and vile nature with justice and conscience, as I did before.

I don't need to elevate myself again and again according to other people's expectations, nor do I want to deliberately play the role of a "holy messenger" again in order to satisfy the vague so-called career.

I felt that my hungry soul was so confused that it had completely lost its ability to discern.

Look, thousands of miles of long streets, thousands of empty alleys.

50,000 citizens took to the streets, walking gently along my hearse, surely for fear of waking up my body that had been sleeping for a long time, and wondering if it was to pay tribute to Pingwei's great achievements?

They let the white flower-paved road, the hearse run over their hearts.

The spontaneous flow of people, the scenes of crying, the noise of the media, the craze of learning, all reminded me of my confession:

People are subjective for themselves, as long as there is still righteousness and principles, the objective effect will inevitably become for others!

But......

Ping Xuan would certainly have retorted by saying:

"Look, now, with such great achievements and so much sorrow among your people, your life may be of great significance.

But why is my heart still so sore, my words still so broken, and my tears still so devoid?"

Of course I know that Ping Yu really wants to be at my solemn memorial service-

If there is any such thing, I seem to see the words she will record in the work diary:

"Although your life is short, it really condenses the essence of the world!

You really won, you've been red for half a day!

Look, your lover has cried like a tearful man!

See, your colleagues and all those who don't know you are weeping over your untimely death!

Your value of survival may have been demonstrated, and it is time for you to smile again.

But why can't only my tears, which have always been fragile and susceptible, fall?

I know that the most precious soul in life is a natural, healthy and dignified soul that each of us wants to be with each other throughout our lives.

Only the scarred people are the souls we must rescue, and our public security work is to strive to let every soul feel some light and comfort of life.

Isn't our zeal for the cause of public security to save, merciful, and illuminate those who are constantly immersed in the darkness of the human heart, the sordid of scheming, and the bloody blood of violence?

Looking at the thousands of people who came spontaneously, I was even glad and relieved:

So brilliant, so brilliant to go through your thirty-six years of life, perhaps you should thank God for the arrangement, although there are still regrets, but it is so perfect!

Otherwise, I really don't know what will happen someday in the future......"

Yes, really, there is a good chance that a terrible day will come!

Am I really perfect now?

Who can know my filthiness, pain and helplessness?

How much I want Pingfu to remember this sentence:

The most obscene deeds must have appeared in the noblest name;

The darkest soul must be displayed in the brightest face.

Whenever I wake up from a dream, I want to ask Pingfu for something that I won't be blind to, but I can't communicate with her on a deeper level.

I could only follow and wrap around her body, looking down and staring at her, but she was unconscious.

Maybe one day, I can give her a dream, so that her spirit and my soul collide and collide with the light?

Who would have thought that I was a female assistant to the director of public security who was "more wronged than Dou Moth"?

Perhaps in this world, only the people who will know me at the end can detect my confusion, surprise and fear.

She may dream or disbelieve in her sleep:

My strange death.

She would wonder how a stubborn and naughty life like mine could be so fragile and unbearable.

After all, she is also heart-to-heart with me, and our ideal realm is the same, but the only way and method are different.

She knows best how many criminals I have arrested, how many major cases have been solved, and how many dignitaries and hooligans have been offended since I joined the police.

She also knows best what I have paid for the cause of public security and what great achievements I have created.

Perhaps, I was killed by him?"