These people were still targeting Mu Zishan. The criminal police would definitely keep an eye on her. Soon, the books belonging to the victims in Mu Zishan's room were taken away. Shan Cong, who got the news, quickly came over to coordinate: "Mr. Zhang, you see, we are all investigating this case now. Since everyone has the same goal, why do this?"

"Dan Cong, don't forget that you are also a police officer," the other party said to him, "If you don't work hard in the police station and hang out with these people, it will do you no good."

Shan Cong nodded: "Yes, yes, Sir Zhang is right, but..."

"No need to say more, we will take these things back and investigate them ourselves." He gave him a stern look, "I hope you can also assist us in this case."

Shan Cong watched them leave and walked into the courtyard with some dejection. He saw Mu Zishan coming out of the room: "Shan Cong, let's go." He quickly followed her into the car.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Any new discoveries?"

"Did you notice that those books all came from the same publisher?"

Shan Cong recalled it and woke up as if from a dream: "Yes."

The two of them arrived downstairs at the publisher's building. She went straight upstairs, where the staff were all busy typeset and publishing the book. A female secretary greeted them and took them to a conference room. The walls of the conference room were covered with many book covers, each with a unique design. One of them was a famous antique.

The publisher's boss came in, shook hands with Shan Cong, had his secretary pour them some coffee, and answered some of Shan Cong's questions. Mu Zishan stood up and observed the book with an antique cover.

"Are you also interested in antiques?" asked the boss.

"I have some understanding," Mu Zishan said, "but the antique on the cover seems to have some flaws, perhaps a part is missing."

"I don't really understand this, but the designer who designed the cover said it was appropriate for the occasion and had a story to it, and it was perfect for the content of the book, so we used it," said the boss.

“Where is this designer now?”

"He shouldn't be at the company," the boss said, feeling something was wrong. "He should be at home."

"Can you give us his address?"

"Of course." He asked his secretary to get the designer's information and then handed it to Shan Cong. "Any questions?"

"I want to know something from him," Shan Cong said, "Thank you."

The two of them headed towards the address above, which was a small bungalow with its exterior walls painted in bright colors, forming a sharp contrast with the surrounding buildings.

Shan Cong went up and knocked on the door. After waiting for a while, a middle-aged man with long hair opened the door. He looked like he was still sleeping. "Who are you looking for?"

Mu Zishan stepped forward: "Well, I wrote a book and I want to design a cover for it."

"How did you find this place?" the designer asked puzzled.

"A friend recommended it to me," she said. "Haven't you designed covers for many famous books?"

"Come in then!" He let them in and went to the refrigerator to get two bottles of water. "There's nothing to drink here, so two bottles of plain water will do."

"Thank you." Shan Cong looked at him, then looked around, "Your design here is good."

"We moved in last year and spent a month tidying it up," he said, sitting on the sofa. "It's great, just the way I wanted it."

Mu Zishan saw a pile of dirt and tools in the corner and asked, "I heard you also do some ceramic design?"

“Oh,” he replied, “it’s just a personal interest, not a design.”

Mu Zishan opened an article on his phone and showed it to him: "This is a book I wrote about the differences in human nature in modern society. I need a cover design that's a bit unique."

He took it, looked at it briefly, and then found a paintbrush and a piece of paper, set them on the easel, and began to design. Shan Cong approached and started chatting with him, while Mu Zishan walked around the house. His collection shelves were filled with everything. The walls were mostly covered with various photos.

The designer sketched out a rough idea and showed it to her: "This is mainly to reflect a kind of modern art. This part can be arranged with some visually conflicting colors."

"Well, that's good," she said, "but I still hope to lean towards ancient traditional culture. So, let's leave a deposit first, and you can help me think about it, and then come back to get the final drawings."

"That's fine," he said, grabbing a piece of paper from the side. "Leave your contact information. I'll send it to you once the design is ready."

Mu Zishan wrote down his contact information, and then Shan Cong drove away.

As for the book she mentioned, it was actually a thesis written by Shan Cong when he graduated: "Why did you use my thesis? I don't want to publish a book."

"I didn't intend for you to publish a book by writing an article like this," Mu Zishan said. "I just wanted to find an excuse to get in."

"I spent a long time writing this," Shan Cong said, somewhat dissatisfied, "How can you say it's worthless?"

She nodded: "I know my own limitations." She realized someone was following her, so she sped up, but the car was still following her.

"Someone is following us?" Shan Cong looked back.

"Hold on!" Mu Zishan suddenly braked and stopped in the middle of the road. The car suddenly turned its head and disappeared from the other intersection. She quickly got out of the car and saw some dirt on the wheel mark of the sharp turn.

The cars in front and behind kept honking their horns. Shan Cong could only move his car to the side and then go up to take a look: "What's going on?"

"This car has been following us," she said. "It should have come out from the bungalow."

"Hey, this one is conscious," Shan Cong said, "What's the purpose of following us?"

Mu Zishan looked at the passing vehicles and checked their wheels. They were all very clean, at least not covered with the same dirt as her car.

After returning to the courtyard, she looked at all the information on the wall, from Hunan to the auction, and she found that whether it was the photo of the bronze ware in the news or the promotional photo at the auction, the lighting angle was exactly the same as the lighting angle of the book cover in the publishing house.

She also remembered that among the illustrations in those books, there were many photos, all shot from the same angles as these.

"Is there something wrong with this designer?" Shan Cong asked.

"Find out his information," Mu Zishan said, "including his recent travel history."

Shan Cong quickly called the bureau and quickly found the relevant information. She reorganized the relevant information of these people, making the designer the central figure, and surrounding this background, the most relevant person to him was the writer and appraiser.