The police investigated Jiang Baiyan's car and finally pulled a scrap car from the river.

In the gap of the car seat, there was a piece of silk organza, which was embroidered with Van Cleef & Arpels gemstones. This is an extremely expensive material, which is not used in ordinary dresses. Coincidentally, each haute couture dress is unique and there is no such thing as wearing the same dress twice.

After identification by the designer, it was recognized that the material above was the fragments of a simple dress.

Jiang Baiyan could not explain this.

"My car was stolen more than a week ago," he said, "I even asked my assistant to call the police."

But the police told him the truth and reasoned: "Calling the police cannot prove that the car is really missing. You didn't go, the invitation letter was swiped, and there is evidence in the car. The whole thing is related to you."

Jiang Baiyan said: "Someone framed me."

"Who?"

He was silent for a while, as if he had understood the whole story: "My psychiatrist Wang Shi, he is my friend, and he occasionally borrows my car to drive."

The police immediately investigated, but the result was not surprising.

"Doctor Wang went abroad half a month ago." The police said, "We found his exit records, and he is still abroad and has not returned yet."

Jiang Baiyan was shocked and angry: "How could this be! It's really not me!"

Unfortunately, the verbal trickery was useless.

The police continued their investigation, starting with his car, and finally, through surveillance, they locked down the last place the car had been before it fell into the river.

An abandoned warehouse in the suburbs.

When it was opened, there was an iron barrel inside, with charcoal ashes and a lot of white powder.

After identification, it was found to be ashes.

At the same time, a burnt metal pearl hairpin and the remains of high heels were found in the iron barrel. After comparing it with what Jian Jing was wearing that day, it was determined that it belonged to her.

In other words, the one who was burned to ashes was most likely her.

Jiang Baiyan was so shocked that he refused to accept the reality: "This is impossible!"

However, the facts were there. The evidence investigated so far had formed a complete chain of evidence. Even if the suspect's confession was not obtained, he could be prosecuted.

Jiang Baiyan was immediately detained by the police.

Only Ji Feng did not believe it.

He said: "Jiang Baiyan's evidence is too comprehensive. It is obvious that he was framed. If we continue to investigate like this, the real murderer will be at large."

Lao Gao said: "You can't rely on feelings to investigate a case. You have to look at the evidence. All the evidence points to him. Do you think the people in the procuratorate believe you, or the judge?"

Ji Feng: "If you don't investigate, I will."

He was about to continue to investigate along the clues of the Xue family, when suddenly good news came from the sky. The person was caught.

Upon hearing the news, Ji Feng's scalp immediately tingled, knowing that he was in trouble. Sure enough, what they caught was a drug addict, who was related to Xue Jun, but his father took his mother's surname after marrying into his wife's wife.

He matched perfectly with the DNA sample found by Ji Feng.

The blood does not belong to Wang Shi at all.

This is a pit.

Ji Ganqian vomited blood and told the truth: "This is the first time I've been fooled like this."

Lao Gao comforted: "Who hasn't encountered a few bastards in their youth?"

He said: "..."

In short, within a week, the suspect was locked in, and all the original clues were lost.

At this point, the ending seems to be foreseeable.

Wang Shi - it's hard to say whether this is her real name, let's just call her - watched her slowly fall into coma under the mist through the glass.

The dose must be well controlled. Any more will cause you to lose consciousness completely, and any less will not achieve the effect.

This kind of shallow sleep is just right.

She can hear him talking: "Today is August 2, 2014, Chinese Valentine's Day, and you are at home."

"Home." Her sleep talk was as light as a mosquito.

"Yes, your new home." His voice was like hot chocolate coming out of the pot, and the slightly hot warm current surged through the eardrum, smooth and sticky.

Under such guidance, Jian Jing's consciousness slowly sank back to the night of Chinese Valentine's Day.

That day, the night was very dark and the weather was gloomy, as if it would rain the next day. Her parents had just moved to a new house and were anxious to find a job. She, a student who had not yet started school, had the most free time and stayed at home drinking soda and eating popsicles.

Of course, as a new writer who had just started her career, the little Jian Jing was also very diligent.

She was writing the draft of the new volume of White Cat.

Alas, it is not easy to write a story, and it is even more difficult to conceive of detective techniques. I have already written about pinhole imaging, Morse code, fingerprint extraction from tape, and acid-base test paper. What technique should I write about next?

Worried.

The knowledge taught in junior high school science classes is limited. Should I buy two more interesting tutoring books?

She bit her pen in worry, and there were footsteps and unlocking sounds at the door.

Her parents came back.

They bought halogens, her mother rolled up her sleeves to prepare to stir-fry fresh fruits and vegetables, and her father went to the balcony to collect clothes. The house, which had been quiet all day, suddenly became lively.

She heard her mother complain: "Oh, it's a pity to lose that roast chicken. I said you should pick it up and wash it."

"It fell on the ground. Why pick it up?" her father muttered.

The mother put her hands on her hips and said, "It's only thirty yuan. After two days of good life, you are so arrogant that you don't care about this little money?"

Jian Jing closed the door silently.

Every family has its own troubles, and every couple has their own way of getting along. Her parents usually like to quarrel at home, arguing over trivial matters. The winner feels comfortable all over, and the loser feels depressed for a long time.

Of course, this does not affect the relationship between the couple. After the quarrel, they watch TV together.

This is probably the... uh... fun of adults.

So Jian Jing didn't take it seriously, nor did she express her opinion on the roast chicken that fell on the ground. She sat back at the table and continued to concentrate on writing the outline.

After an unknown amount of time, there was the sound of the door opening again. Her parents were talking, chatting very enthusiastically.

Like most children, Jian Jing hated entertaining guests, and the most terrifying thing was when relatives came to visit during the holidays. She was afraid that once she went out, her parents would lose control of their desire to show off and brag about her book to the neighbors.

Whenever this happened, she wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it.

The previous sense of crisis had subsided with the move. She hesitated for a moment, not thinking deeply about the dangers of the world, and decided to shrink in the room and pretend not to hear it.

But outside the window, a figure said, "If you come out now, maybe your parents won't die."

Jian Jing stood still.

"It's a pity that you are just a half-baked person, which aroused my curiosity but not enough vigilance." The figure flashed and appeared behind her.

The door was wide open, and she saw her parents lying in the living room, unconscious.

"You killed them." The little girl screamed, "Help..."

The man covered her mouth and clamped her arms and legs tightly. He took out a small canister similar to an oxygen respirator and covered her mouth and nose with a mask.

She held her breath and her face turned red.

But an adult woman is not strong enough to resist an adult man, let alone an underage junior high school student.

Her strength faded, her chest felt stuffy, and the pain of suffocation caused her body to collapse. She was forced to gasp for air, and naturally inhaled the anesthetic mist.

The girl's consciousness disappeared.

But seven years later, Jian Jing's consciousness was still there.

She watched "herself" fall on the sofa, and watched him start his carefully planned performance.

A murder performance.

He moved the Jian couple to the bed, let them settle in a familiar place, crossed his hands on his abdomen, then opened the syringe, drew the medicine, and slowly injected it into their veins.

The movements were skillful, as if he had done it many times.

"I have no interest in killing." The person involved explained, "The result of death is the most important. An overly complicated process will only get you into trouble."

Jian Jing looked at him expressionlessly.

He smiled: "I thought you would thank me. After all, I didn't let them suffer."

"I understand." She said so.

He raised his eyebrows: "What do you understand?"

"Why did you escape the police's pursuit?" She looked at the figure cleaning the scene and said pertinently, "If you are just pursuing the result, the process is naturally the simpler the better. You are very rational."

Most serial killers have their own set of processes.

Some people carefully select their targets, some like to use a specific way of death, some have to create a death scene that meets their imagination, and some are even more daring and directly leave passwords and codes.

The more you do, the more flaws you will make. This is an eternal truth.

The key to his repeated escapes is that he doesn't do unnecessary things. He

doesn't abuse the dead, doesn't leave symbols, and doesn't perform fancy rituals.

The simpler and clearer the murder process, the better, and the cleaner the scene, the better.

The police got very few clues, which is why they couldn't catch him.

"Is this a compliment?" he asked.

Jian Jing ignored him and said to herself, "But there are exceptions, Guo Yifang."

She carefully observed the expression on his face. However, the other party had excellent psychological defense work and there was no abnormality on his face. He just asked with interest, "Are you sure? Think about it carefully."

"I'm sure." Jian Jing said without hesitation, "You put a lot of effort into Guo Yifang. If it was a trap, it would be a pity if it was not discovered. But the police have not discovered it, which proves that you don't want them to find out at all."

These words seemed to be a compliment, and he did not deny it for a moment.

She asked, "What's so special about her to you?"

He smiled proudly, "I just wanted to try and see if anyone could find out this little secret. It's a pity that it's a waste of time. Now it's your turn, so I have to make it more obvious."

To make her argument more convincing, she added, "After a long time of one-man show without an audience, something is missing."

Jian Jing stared into his eyes, "You're lying."

He said calmly, "What do you have that I should lie to?"

"You're afraid of being discovered," she said, "that you have an affair with your mother."

When he said the last few words, his face twitched fiercely, "If you keep talking nonsense, I'll teach you a lesson."

"You're afraid." Jian Jing smiled.

In the exchange of consciousness, there was no deadly poison gas, no glass to block it, it was a complete collision of minds and a physical fight of spirits.

"Tell me, do you love her, or hate her, do you regret not killing her, or do you regret not being able to save her?" She kept asking, her tone was not aggressive, but full of curiosity, like a proud student who had to compete with the teacher.

This was a provocation he could tolerate, so his expression eased: "You are curious about my story."

"I destroyed my original life and rewrote my life." She said, "You know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. This is not fair."

He said, "I don't suggest you take a peek into my past."

"But I am really curious," she faced him, their eyes met, "What are you afraid of."

Time stopped, and memories stopped.

In his field of vision, his downward gaze and her upward gaze changed rapidly, pulling into a level line. Her consciousness suddenly recovered and she became aggressive.

"Let me see." She reached out and grabbed his collar. "It's my turn."

"Enough is enough!" Wang Shi's face turned pale and he waved his hands to break free from her entanglement.

It was too late.

The space twisted, the vortex reversed, and a new scene appeared.

This was - his memory.