Anne sat by the sand in the corner, waiting for her brother to return from the market.

It was nearly noon, and the light blue sky was clear, as if the sun was shining across the sand shore. Anne rested her head against the wall and looked at the sky, unable to help but look at it in amazement. At this moment, a person suddenly patted her on the shoulder.

Anne turned her face away in surprise and saw a smiling face as clear as the sky.

It's a sister who is not much older than her. She didn't wear a little makeup on her face, but her beautiful face didn't seem to need embellishment: except for the afternoon sun and the clear sky, all the embellishments on this face seemed so superfluous.

The good-looking sister squatted down, grinning and holding her chin, her eyes rolling around.

"Little sister, can you play with Gaisha Castle?"

Anne shrank back and looked up at her sister in front of her.

Perhaps she was born unwary of her good-looking kind, she nodded timidly.

It was afternoon when Anne's brother returned. He carried a crumpled dirty package containing a piece of black bread that was as dry as a stone: it was the rest of the two days' food for the siblings.

Seeing that his sister was still staying by the wall, he couldn't help but speed up his pace, ran to her, gently scratched his sister's nose, and smiled sweetly. Suddenly, he saw his sister holding a white bead in her hand, which was shining softly between her fingers.

He looked around in surprise. The pile of sand around Anne was piled up into a simple sandcastle - apparently not pretty, even a little clumsy. But in the walls of the sandcastle, there seemed to be a lot of beautiful little things embedded in them, shining in the sun.

Anne looked at Sandcastle and then at her brother with a smug look.

Around the same time, the girl was walking out from the other end of the alley. As she was about to walk out of the alley, she stopped, leaned against the alley wall, and looked into the distance in the sunlight.

She smiled meaningfully and folded her hands around her chest.

"What a great story. Those who don't like it must be nerds, right? ”

Shi Zuocai, who was far away on the other side of the ocean, didn't understand that the girl who always liked to giggle and suddenly appeared in front of him had prepared a mystery for him that he would never forget a whole year before he met him.

It's like the mighty organization that pretends to be mysterious can never guess that the unpredictable woman who has suffered so much to them will take the jewels that can buy half of Newcastle and build a house with a street girl for an afternoon.

……

Lin Gong pressed:

After writing the story outline of "Smoke and Eyes", I took the manuscript to meet with "Shi Zuocai" to verify the accuracy of the story, and invited him to publish this issue of "To an Outsider" by the way.

Surprisingly, Shi Zuocai's attitude towards this story is rarely ambiguous, and he has not expressed any opinion about this issue of "To the Outsider". It took a long time to shirk and tell me two stories.

To this day, it is inconclusive whether these two stories are true or not, but Shi Zuo has only guessed through Liu Yanshi's investigation and her own statement for a long time; Although there is a certainty of eight or nine points, it is not ten percent.

So, after I had fleshed out the two stories in detail as the preface and afterword to "Smoke and Eyes," he sent me a letter asking me to name the two stories "What Might Have Been."

An interesting thing is that when Shi Zuo told me these two stories, it had been quite a long time since he investigated Liu Yanshi's past and even Liu Yanshi committed this shocking case in Australia. But when he told these two stories, the look in his eyes was clearly the young man who looked at the forest in the distance at his desk many years ago, looking forward to the mystery of the story, and waiting for Liu Yanshi to appear.

It's a pity that I can't ask Liu Yanshi for further details. Otherwise, it would certainly be a much more exciting story.

This is a later story, not a table.