National Highway 318, from time to time there are cars speeding by.

A minibus with the sign "Dwarf-Caidian" came from behind me.

I stretched out my hand, and the car stopped in front of me with soot.

The minibus came to a bend and stopped, and someone was about to get on. On the way, the bus stopped several times one after another, and it was already past eight o'clock when it entered Yuxian Town.

When I walked out of the station, my stomach growled, and when I saw a noodle restaurant on the side of the road, I went in and asked for a bowl of beef noodles. I sat down next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I had an unobstructed view of the street outside the noodle shop. I started munching on noodles.

A shirtless man in big pants walked in, ordered a basket of steamed dumplings and a bowl of porridge, and sat down across from me. I noticed that he was holding a stack of newspapers in his hand. The shopkeeper quickly delivered the food he had ordered to him. He put the newspaper on the corner of the table and picked up chopsticks to eat dumplings.

The direction of the paper's text was opposite to my line of sight, but I could still make out the masthead printed in Maoist script -- Metropolis Express, and the headline in the lower right corner of the front page printed in large banners -- "Significant progress has been made in the shooting of DZA130 and the Tan Wenhu case." The whole article is surrounded by a thick line frame, in addition to two columns of small fly-like text text, there is also a photo, and the accompanying text below the photo: Suspect Zuo Yan, providing clues is rewarded.

I covered my forehead with my hand holding chopsticks and stared at the photo for no less than five seconds, oh my God, it was indeed me, this is too exaggerated, I don't even know how Tan Wenhu died, and even I was implanted with a weird chip in his head. I was totally a victim. Why did you suspect me? And the Italian on the plane, I don't even know what he looks like, how did he become a murderer? I felt like I didn't have enough head. A wave of vertigo.

The person opposite was eating dumplings and drinking porridge. They didn't seem to be paying attention to me.

I pressed my head to my chest and watched out for people walking into the noodle restaurant while eating noodles. Be wary of anyone who walks in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.

One after another, a few more people walked into the noodle shop, and one of them was also holding a stack of "Metropolis Express" in his hand, which was impressively printed with "Suspect Zuo Yan, there is a prize for providing clues." ”

I noticed that there was a bus stop in front of the noodle shop, and there was a shriveled old lady in the shadow of the bus shelter with two plastic stools and a plywood to set up a newsstand, on which were some magazines and five or six newspapers like a poker, and the "Metropolitan Express" was on top, and it seemed to be the most popular newspaper here.

I can't stay here any longer. Don't wait for a bowl of noodles to finish. My hand reached into my trouser pocket and took out the money, "Boss, give me the money." ”

The boss was busy adding stock to the diners and didn't look at me. "You can just put it on the table."

"Okay."

I put ten yuan on the table, walked out of the noodle shop quickly, went to a supermarket and bought a hat, a few packets of machine-made wheat bread, and two bottles of water to stuff into my bag. When I went to the cashier to pay, I saw an LED TV hanging on the wall behind the cashier. The morning news of Oe City is being broadcast. Due to some panic, I didn't hear what the host said, only to see a line of text in the lower right corner of the screen slide to the left: DZA130 flight shooting incident and Tan Wenhu case investigation has made significant progress: Zuo Yan, the editor of the former Ancient Painting Publishing House, is seriously suspected. According to reliable police sources, the suspect is currently hiding in the city. Anyone in the know is asked to call the police immediately. -- followed by the text introducing Zuo Yan, that is, my physiognomy -- and then: The police who provided major clues to assist in solving the case rewarded 100,000 yuan, and the contact number ......

Left flame, left flame. I'm not dreaming, I'm the Zuo Yan who was wanted by the police with a reward of 100,000 yuan.

I felt like the streets were full of my name and my pictures.

I was outraged. At the same time, I felt helpless.

I walked out of the supermarket.

"Sir, I'm looking for your money." The cashier shouted.

I ignored her. Hurry up and leave the supermarket.

Those two policemen must have used the entire criminal investigation system of Dajiang City to arrest me, what are they trying to do?

How could I be a murderer. It's almost as good that they themselves are murderers. By the way, are they the murderers, and they want to blame me. In other words, they are fundamentally in the same group as Tan Wenhu, and their purpose is to create chaos so that they can take advantage of the fire to rob my ancient paintings.

However, I don't even know where that old painting has gone.

I found a newsstand, threw away a dollar, bought a copy of "Metropolis Express", entered Guo Zhenchao's contact number into my mobile phone, and dialed it.

The phone went through. "Hey", Guo Zhenchao's voice with a heavy breath came, "Hello! ”

...... "I suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Are you going to provide clues to solve the case? ……”

……

I was silent for two seconds and hung up the phone.

I don't think I can tell him about the disappearance of the ancient painting, because he will definitely not believe me, and it will not be possible to stop the arrest, but on the contrary, he will reveal my whereabouts.

I sent him a text message: If you kill me, you will never find an ancient painting.

He quickly replied: Are you Zuo Yan?

I'm thinking about how to reply. If I tell him I'm Zuoyan, it will increase the chances of him finding out where I am. You must know that the current positioning technology is too developed, and the error is only one or two meters away from thousands of kilometers, not to mention that we are in the same city. I think I should give him a little more suspicion so that he can't get my details at once.

He quickly sent another text message: Let's meet and I'll help you.

I remembered the bullets from his pistol whizzing past my ears.

I pulled out the electromagnetic of my phone, so that the satellites in the sky could not find me at all.

I kept walking. A police car was approaching. I wittily sneaked into a fruit shop and pretended to buy fruit. I turned my back to the shopkeeper and waited for the police car to drive away before I came out of the shop.

Suddenly, I felt a warm liquid spilling out of my right nostril, and when I touched it with my hand, it turned out to be blood. I've never had a nosebleed, what's going on? I shoved a tissue into my nostrils. The blood quickly soaked through the tissues and fell to the ground with a click.

I changed a tissue and the blood still kept spilling. I walked another hundred meters or so and saw a two-story house standing on the slope across the road. There is a sign hanging at the door: Yuxian Integrated Traditional Chinese and Western Medicine Clinic. If I keep bleeding like this, I'll faint. I'm going to get there and deal with it.

I took a hard look at that clinic. It covers an area of about 500 square meters and is covered with small tiles on the exterior wall. Single-door, detached house, not connected to other façade houses on the street. There is a Changan minivan parked in front of it, as well as two electric cars, unlike the police who are ambushed there.

I walked through the street with my head down, to the top of the ramp, and into the clinic lobby.

On the left side of the hall are two wooden tables side by side, and behind one of them sits a doctor in a white coat, wearing a pair of reading glasses, and in his mid-sixties. Writing on a disposition sheet with a thin medical record underneath. On a stool next to her sat a young mother with a crying little girl in her arms.

On the right side of the hall are three rows of metal benches, scattered with three or five people, working on pins and watching the TV hanging on the opposite wall. A nurse stands in the middle of a bench, changing the needle for a listless, middle-aged woman. On the armrest of the middle-aged woman's seat is a stack of "Metropolis Express".

The young mother took the disposal slip issued by the old doctor, hugged the girl and turned around and walked to the pharmacy.

I bowed my head and sat down on the stool next to the doctor.

"What's wrong?" The doctor asked me.

"Nosebleeds." I covered my nose and said.

"I'll see."

I didn't dare to put my hand down, pretending to be in pain.

"Did you hit it somewhere?" He looked at the scars on my face.

I remembered that maybe I had been hit in the nose by something on the plane. "Hmm."

"Did you just hit it?"

"I hit it yesterday."

"Isn't that a long bloodshed?" He felt incomprehensible.

"It's not. It just started. ”

"Did it take so long to start streaming?" He still has questions.

"Did you have any physical problems before?"

"Nope."

He handed me a thermometer.

I clipped the thermometer into the creaky socket.

He stretched out the index finger of his left hand and pressed the middle finger exactly against the carpal artery of my right hand. "My body is very weak, so I should be careful."

"Uh-huh."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the middle-aged woman walking into the toilet with a medicine bottle and a newspaper in her squeak.

"It doesn't feel like your blood is very smooth. Have you felt dizzy lately? He was right.

Perhaps, the nosebleed has something to do with that terrible chip. I hope to stop the bleeding right away and get out of this place as soon as possible. So pick up the most critical question and say, "I've been hit in the back of the head." ”

He stood up and walked behind me, his fingers pressing against the back of my head and moving rapidly, asking if it hurt.

"Ouch - you tap. Here it is. ”

"It feels like there's something in there."

"There's something in there."

"You're going to have to have surgery to take it out. I can do it here, but you have to go to the big hospital first to shoot a film. ”

Where can I go to the big hospital? "There's something I can't do right now. You can help me stop the bleeding first. ”

"I'll tell you, young man. This nosebleed is caused by a hard object in the back of your head. ”

I looked at him in amazement.

He sat down in his soft chair. "If you don't take it out, it's hard to stop this blood, even if it is temporarily stopped, it's hard to guarantee that it won't flow again."

"You help me stop the bleeding first." I tried my best not to scream.

"It's easy to stop bleeding, I'll prescribe you some hemostatic medicine, and stop it at once. However, you can't afford to delay this situation any longer. If you delay, something big will happen. ”

"What's the big deal?" I asked.

"A lot of amnesia, amnesia, Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's, madness, cerebral palsy, hemiplegia are caused by this."

His words were roughly the same as what Dr. Fan said in the psychiatric hospital, but what he said about cerebral palsy and hemiplegia made me panic even more.

"Your foreign body is stuck in the cervical fossa at the end of the cervical vertebrae, located between the occipital bone and the end of the cervical vertebrae, which happens to be the Fengfu acupoint, which we call the ghost acupoint in traditional Chinese medicine, which connects the nasal blood vessels, and if it is compressed, it will make people flow into the nasal acupoint."

"Take out the thermometer."

I took out the thermometer and put it in his hand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the toilet door open, and the middle-aged woman with the newspaper came out, still holding the infusion bottle in her hand, but the newspaper was gone. I still didn't pay much attention to it, maybe she threw the newspaper in the toilet. A lot of people like to read newspapers in the toilet and throw the newspapers in the trash can in the toilet.

The doctor said, "Do you have any medical records?" ”

I shook my head, "No." ”

He began to write on the disposal sheet, and I vaguely recognized the words on it: 1 bottle of Anluo blood, 1 box of vitamin K1.

He said while writing: "The Fengfu acupoint is connected to the nerves of the tongue, so it is also called the tongue acupoint, and if you are injured here, it will make the tongue stiff and unable to speak, causing permanent damage to the central neurons of the brain, and if you don't do it well, it will be fatal." He put the disposal slip in my hand, "Go to the pharmacy and get the medicine, and eat it right away to stop the bleeding." ”

I covered my nose and went to the pharmacy to get the medicine nervously, asked the nurse for a disposable water cup, went to the water dispenser to pick up a glass of water, and took the medicine according to the doctor's instructions. Then sit down on the bench where the middle-aged woman sits and rest. After about 5 minutes, my nosebleeds stopped coming out. I stood up and walked towards the clinic door.

The middle-aged woman was knitting a sweater with a needle in her hand. The moment I stood up, she casually glanced at me, and then at the door of the clinic.

The doctor took off the reading glasses from the bridge of his nose, placed them on the table in front of him, and looked at me with a frown.

The little girl started to prick needles after the skin test, and she burst into tears.

There's nothing wrong with that.

When I was about to reach the entrance of the clinic, a dozen or so policemen suddenly rushed in. I was caught off guard by their plopping, my shoulder hitting the ground and hurting my heart. One of the policemen took off my backpack and threw all the contents on the ground, as if he was afraid of a bomb inside. Another policeman quickly groped me all over my crotch.

A police car screamed outside the clinic.

I looked up from the ground and saw two people walking in front of the door, Guo Zhenchao in front and Yin Wenbin in the back.

Guo Zhenchao walked up to me and squatted down with one leg bent, staring at me with a smile, stretching out his fat palm and patting it on my face, like a ball, "Yes, Zuo Yan, dare to argue with Lao Tzu." ”

I clearly guessed that his next sentence was: See if Lao Tzu doesn't kill you. (To be continued......)