Jian Yao didn't expect to receive a call from Luo Lang at this time.

In the middle of the night, the stars are sparse, and the police car is whistling. Bo Jinyan sat beside her, and she picked it up: "Hey, Lao Luo? ”

Fang Qing, who was driving in front, also heard it. An Yan went to help the city bureau process the data, and there were only three of them in the car.

Luo Lang sounded very quiet, like staying in some empty and quiet place. He said in a soft voice, "Jian Yao, how are you busy these days?" ”

Jian Yao replied: "It's okay." The case keeps moving forward. ”

"That butterfly killer, is it nerve-wracking?"

Jian Yao: "You've heard about it too?" ”

"Yes, it's all on TV."

"yes." Jian Yao sighed, "Another one died just now." ”

"I'll catch it." Luo Lang said gently.

Jian Yao smiled: "Hmm." What, you called in the middle of the night, what's the matter? ”

"What can I do, care about the two of you. Anyway, it is estimated that when you investigate the case, it will be day and night upside down, so you will simply fight now. Listening to your voice is quite energetic, and you don't stay up late. Especially the old man, told him that men stay up all night and hurt themselves. ”

Jian Yao quickly raised her head and said, "Lao Luo told you to stay up late and hurt yourself." ”

Fang Qing replied with a smile: "I know." What is he doing? Don't sleep in the middle of the night, don't have to spend time with your girlfriend? ”

Luo Lang on the other end also heard it and replied, "My girlfriend broke up a few days ago, it's boring." I'm also on a business trip and may not be back to Beijing for a while. I'll come back to dinner with you when the time comes. ”

Jian Yao: "Well, okay. See you then. ”

Hanging up the phone, Fang Qing smiled heartily: "This kid, won't he dump the post-90s generation again, right?" ”

Jian Yao smiled slightly: "You guessed right." ”

Fang Qing: "Damn, let's despise him together." ”

The night breeze blew gently from the window, and Jian Yao gradually smiled, only to notice that Bo Jin Yan beside her was always quiet. Because both of them cried in the office just now, Jian Yao's eyes were still a little red. Although he was wearing sunglasses, his cheeks were slightly flushed.

Jian Yao looked at him, but he seemed to notice it immediately, and asked, "Luo Lang?" ”

"Hmm."

He sat still and did not speak. It looked a little dumb and a little cold.

Jian Yao suddenly remembered that in the past, she was also in the car, and she received a call from Luo Lang, one by one. As a result, Bo Jinyan seemed to be a little unhappy. She asked him if he was jealous, and he denied it. turned his head and seduced her to call him "Brother Jin Yan......

"He's just friends with me." Jian Yao said softly.

"I know." He replied, and then a small smile came to his face.

His happiness and unhappiness are always expressed directly in this way. Jian Yao's heart softened, and she whispered, "You are not by my side, I always need to be accompanied by friends." ”

He took her hand and said, "Well, by my side, there is also An Yan." ”

Fang Qing looked at the night lights in front of the car, there was a smile on the corner of his mouth, but there was a sigh in his heart.

It's good that they've reconciled.

Two people who really love each other are probably reluctant to be separated for a minute or a second.

But what about him? He and his princess.

Why can't they go together now?

——

The body was found in an abandoned building next to the road. The time is 4 a.m., and the initial presumption of death is between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m.

Fang Qing parked his car on the side of the road, and other police cars also surrounded the dilapidated building. Jian Yao raised her head and saw that across the street, it was the community where Nie Shijun lived, and from here she could even see the roof of the community. Bo Jinyan had previously deduced that this was the murderer's main activity space, not a park, and he was right.

Bo Jinyan also got out of the car, and he felt the light around him and the sound of cars. Obviously, there is a lot of traffic on this road, and even in the middle of the night, there are often cars passing by. Jian Yao looked at him standing on crutches on the street and pondering, and she lost her mind for a while.

"There's a traffic light ahead?" He asked.

Jian Yao replied, "Yes." 20 meters ahead. How do you know? ”

He only smiled slightly, and turned across the street, intending to cross the street. Then after a moment's pause, he reached out in her direction. Jian Yao was stunned for a moment, and then handed him her hand.

It turns out that nothing has changed. On that moonlit night, he reached out to her for the first time.

A few years later, he stood on the street and held out his hand to her again.

Only this time, instead of her walking in front, he was behind. She took him by the hand and walked slowly. No one knew, his hand clenched tighter and tighter, and when she lowered her head, she saw his thin, quiet figure.

Noisy intersections, suddenly quiet. Fang Qing and Shao Yong, who had already crossed the street, looked at them.

"Did you hear that?" Jian Yao asked, about the existence of traffic lights.

The smile on the corner of Bo Jinyan's lips was not extinguished: "Hmm." ”

So Jian Yao actually felt a little happy in her heart. What she thinks is that Bo Jinyan has gradually become accustomed to blindness, and even tries to use hearing instead of vision to make some judgments. Although it was just a simple small move, what she felt was the anger on Bo Jinyan's body.

He was recovering, a kind of "Bo Jin Yan-style" who was sure and at ease and in control of everything.

——

This is an empty room, probably built in the 80s of the last century, and it has not been demolished yet. The walls of the entrance are peeling and littered, so only a few homeless people usually stay here.

The lights are also broken. Jian Yao and Bo Jinyan walked to the door and let go of their hands. She and Fang Qing walked ahead, and Bo Jinyan's crutches tapped on the ground and followed.

The deceased was in the room inside.

It was a middle-aged homeless man who died.

Among the flashlights, the most striking were the two English sentences written in red paint on the wall, and then the corpses on the ground.

“！” (You'll never catch me!) ）

“。” (There will be the next one.) ）

The English writing is flying and majestic, with red paint drooping down the edge of the pen, which looks particularly hideous.

And the corpse on the ground is exactly the same as Nie Shijun. A thin homeless man of 1.6 meters with a bruise on his neck, his hands tied with ropes on the top of his head, and his ankles as well. The ground beneath him was cleared out of a clean place, and butterflies with black wings and red patterns were painted. Broad-tailed butterfly.

Jian Yao and Fang Qing both joined the intense on-site exploration, while Bo Jin Yan stood quietly in the corner of the room. At a certain moment, Jian Yao raised her head and saw him, and her heart was stunned. Then she walked up to him and whispered, "The deceased is lying on the ground in front of you about 1.5 meters from you......"

Bo Jinyan said: "Very good. ”

"This time, the butterflies are more delicately drawn. Last time, there were a little burrs and blemishes, but this time it's as neat as if it was printed. ”

"He's finally enjoying the process." Bo Jinyan said, "The handwriting on the wall ......"

"It's sloppy." Jian Yao replied, her heart moved, pulled him to the wall, and then took his hand, wearing gloves to touch the handwriting. Follow the strokes of the pen, one stroke at a time. It was so silent that the moonlight shone in through the nearby window, and he could smell the fragrance of her hair when he looked down.

After touching all the handwriting, Jian Yao turned her head to look at him: "Is it clear?" ”

He replied, "Clear." ”

Jian Yao smiled and asked again, "Where else do you want to see?" ”

"Show me what else is in this room."

Jian Yao nodded, grabbed his hand again, touched it all the way, and said at the same time: "The deceased homeless man, this should be regarded as a foothold." There was a pile of empty bottles in the corner of the wall, a tattered and dirty mattress on the floor, a small coal stove, and a very shabby little iron pot......" (To be continued. )