The solar system is broken

The Tyndall effect in the distant sky is fading little by little, and the golden light path has faded and is no longer perceptible.

The evening breeze is getting stronger and stronger, like a naughty sheepdog, surrounding the trouser legs and teasing the straight pants.

Huhuhu~

The violent wind tore at the writer's eardrums.

The carnation in my hand is swaying in the wind. The delicate petals are struggling to support themselves in the wind.

Late autumn in October is a good season.

"Woooo~" The powerful whistle came from the wide sea, and the writer's body was shaken.

Coming~

A white outline in the distance is faintly visible in the distance where the water and sky meet.

The lone sail is far away and the shadow is gone in the blue sky ~ that’s what it says.

A huge water tower stands there. In the setting sun, it looks as huge as a towering mountain, pushing flatly from the water.

The ocean-going giant ship is already huge. Now it has added water towers and condensation layers to resist the excessive temperature, making it even bigger.

The giant sea beast broke a white cone-shaped ripple on the water surface, and the white foam was churning and bursting one by one.

"Mang~"

The ship is approaching.

The towing boat drove over and pushed the big ship over.

The huge shadow swallowed the writer bit by bit.

He looked at the fortress-like hull calmly, raised his hand, put the two flowers on his chest, and sniffed it gently.

"Tu tu tu tu tu," the foot ladder was lowered from the port of the boat.

A woman walked off the steps carrying a black bag.

Wearing a pure white cheongsam with gold edges and a low slit, her hair was spread out.

Wearing high heels, a sun hat, and a pair of dark sunglasses hanging on her breast collar. The whole outfit is very fashionable, a bit like a fashionable Shanghai beach girl in the 20th century.

But she is definitely not a girl from the Republic of China, because her eyes are as cold as ice cubes.

He is a cruel person.

"Jiangnan~" Her red lips parted slightly, and she slowly uttered two words.

"Sister," the writer opened his eyes.

"Carnation? Cliché," he looked closely, with a slight curve at the corner of his mouth.

"Well," the writer scratched his head. He will always be a child in front of his sister, "I can't think of anything else..."

"You have grown up, but you haven't grown up yet," Jiang Che stretched out his hand and rubbed the writer's head.

But the painting style is a bit wrong, because Jiang Che is half a head shorter than Jiang Nan, and Jiang Che needs to stand on tiptoes to reach his forehead.

"Well..."

The wind was very strong, and Jiang Che's long hair was dancing wildly in the wind.

With the wind, the writer smelled a familiar smell, jasmine.

My sister's habits haven't changed.

"Get in the car..."

Jiang Che chuckled twice, "My brother is still so cute."

The writer took the bag from Jiang Che's hand. The bag sank and almost knocked the writer to the ground. It was so heavy. The writer didn't expect that this small black bag was like a dumbbell. Jiang Che glanced at the writer sideways.

There was cunning in her eyes, and it was obvious that she knew.

The writer held the black bag with both hands and walked to the parking lot. After taking only a few steps, thin beads of sweat oozed from his forehead. However, Jiang Che did not intend to help and just watched from the side.

"You need to exercise."

"In the next life."

The parking lot is large, and there are all good cars. The only people who can afford cars in this era are rich people.

The writer took Jiang Che past a group of luxury cars and stopped in front of a magical car.

"Haha," Jiang Che leaned against the car door and smiled. "That's pretty much what I thought."

This is a Wuling car. The frame is rusty and one of the rearview mirrors is broken. It is covered with mud spots and is dirty. It is particularly conspicuous in this parking square.

The annual inspection label affixed to the front windshield is somewhat moist. Some people believe it when they say it is a scrapped car.

"No money," the writer opened the rear door with a bang and put the black bag on it.

"Aren't you a writer?" Jiang Che lowered his body and sat in. The car creaked and groaned, and the whole body shook.

This car is on the verge of being scrapped.

"Bang~" Pulling the car door, the writer sat in the front cab and pulled off the seat belt from the upper left side. "Recent books are not doing well."

Insert the key and release the clutch. Zizzi~ The car beeped several times, but still did not ignite, "Broken car...the spark plug is broken again..."

This car was bought by the writer at a junk market. It has been repaired many times in the past year, but all the problems are minor and innocuous.

"You don't want to be a professor anymore?" My sister put her hands on the window, her long hair hanging down, and she tilted her head and looked at the young man's back. He was not broad, and he was even a bit skeletal.

"Professor," the writer sneered, "I am not from the same group as them."

Zizzi~

The car body vibrated, and finally the ignition was successful for the last time.

The writer glanced sideways at the rearview mirror and saw a milky-white Sangran (Sun Country Car) car passing behind him.

Jiang Che was arranging his hair, holding a small mirror in his hand.

But it's not the copper-plated pocket watch that was commonly used in the past, which is a bit strange (Jiang Che's pocket watch has always been inseparable from her).

Turning the steering wheel twice, the car drove out of the parking space diagonally from the side.

Coughing, Jiang Che covered his mouth.

"Then how do you live?" Jiang Che still talked a lot when he was with the writer.

Putting the car into gear, the writer visually checked the distance between the car, stepped on the accelerator and sped out. "The royalties are, however, very low."

"Fees?"

"Write online novels, and also write published novels," the writer laughed sadly.

Life is difficult, but compared to meeting people, these are nothing.

Jiang Che fell silent, and she turned her head and looked out the window.

Outside the window are tall buildings, endless traffic, and the industrial skeleton is huge in the city, demonstrating its power.

However, those who live in it cannot be protected by his power.

Some deciduous trees also have some large light yellow leaves falling down at this time. The green landscape of Hangzhou is very impressive.

The streets are bustling with people, mixed with students after school. The kites are flying, and they are chasing them. Their smiles have nothing to do with this collapsed world.

This is a rare sunset. The afterglow of the sunset in the chaotic era is rarely so clear.

The smoky yellow shines on Jiang Che's face, with the high bridge of the nose as the center, and the shadows and lights are clearly separated (the characteristics of the European race in her bloodline are more obvious, with a high nose bridge).

Jiang Che is not very beautiful, but her coldness is very attractive and deadly.

"But don't worry," the writer looked through the endoscope and glanced at his sister in the back seat, "I can earn 10,000 general coins per book per month, that's enough."

"Is this what you want?" Jiang Che's face looked a bit unbearable. She felt that she felt sorry for her brother. She had a great influence on the writer's personality, and most of it was a negative influence.

The writer shook his head, "It's just a choice of weighing the pros and cons."

Jiang Che nodded. She understood the writer's difficulties and thoughts. Living is the greatest epic of mankind. When people talk about him, they often feel humbled by his magnificence. This is not a person's fault, nor is it a simple abandonment of life.

People's problems.

The two of them were speechless. There was no lively conversation caused by Feng Yue's reunion after a long separation. In fact, the writer had a lot to ask, but he didn't know how to say it.

Jiang Che leaned against the car window and lazily looked at the old place in Hangzhou after many years of absence.

With his eyes squinting, the writer was carefully peeking out of the rearview mirror. Jiang Che raised the corner of his mouth and said nothing.

Grow up~

The car turned around several streets and stopped slowly at a traffic light.

Wuling's scrapped car creaked and the car body trembled.

"What are you doing back?" The writer decided to use a topic to ease the embarrassment.

"I said I missed you, would you believe it?" Jiang Che had no intention of telling him.

"I don't believe it," the writer glanced at the rearview mirror. In addition to Jiang Che's playful smile, there was also a milky white Sangran car inside.

Um?

The writer took another careful look, his eyelids twitched, and he cursed secretly.

"Is it really heartless?"

"Fasten your seat belt!" the writer turned around and shouted.

Jiang Che raised his eyes and rolled his eyes at the writer, "There are no seat belts in the back of your car."

"Hurry up."

There was a crunch.

The Wuling Motors drifted around the corner, leaving a curved black tire mark that was several meters long on the ground.

Driving skills? Non-existent. As long as you have enough fuel, everything is just a cloud.

"Growing up," Jiang Che grabbed the armrest on the window frame with one hand, "Anan is also being chased by girls." Before the writer noticed, she had already noticed this small amateur suffix in the small mirror.

"Yes, she is still a beautiful girl from the Kingdom of the Sun," the writer stepped on the accelerator and turned along the green light.

The entire car body is like a piece of fluttering bread, jumping wildly on the road.

When a driver next to him saw this magical car, he quickly turned the steering wheel and avoided the Wuling car with curses.

"Woo~" The engine made a dull whine.

The loose glass made a rattling sound. The pointer on the instrument panel was rapidly rotating to the right, turning towards some more terrifying numbers.

"Do you know her?"

"I don't know." The writer's face looked very ugly. In fact, he was already angry, a kind of offended emotion. "Damn green cabbage bug!"

"?"

Wuling cars are very deadly, and modified Wuling cars are even more deadly.

Bang-dang~ bang-dang. A Jinbei truck gives the writer the feeling of driving a dump truck. It is different from a truck that pulls dead people and ashes.

Although the momentum is very strong, the speed is not very fast. After all, this is a neighborhood.

Move! The writer turned the steering wheel and changed lanes.

However, when he looked in the rearview mirror, the milky white Sangran car was still in the dirty rearview mirror.

"Damn it!" the writer slapped the steering wheel.

Boom~ The car body shook and surged forward, and then the writer felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

An unpleasant feeling swept through his heart. The steering wheel was like an angry beast, no longer docile. His eyebrows furrowed, and he probably knew what the problem was.

The steering wheel twisted repeatedly, causing the Wuling car to twist and turn on the road. There was panic on the road.

"?What's wrong?"

"There's a thorny little problem." The writer took his foot off the accelerator and stepped on the brake pedal. The Wuling made a roar and bounced several inches in place. Something disconnected. Then the speed of the car continued.

While soaring, the view outside the window became increasingly blurry, and the writer came to the conclusion "the brakes are broken."

"Can you control it?" Jiang Che tied the black handbag around his left wrist, leaned down and unhooked the high heels, "Anan?"

"Oh~ I think..." The writer was making some final struggles, shifting into a low gear and pressing the handbrake, "We'd better prepare to jump out of the car."

Then there was no accident, only accidents were left. The speed of the car did not slow down, and it was still running wildly on the street.

Toot~

The car horn brought up a whirlwind on the long street, roaring and pounced on the frightened cars. It was like a hungry tiger pounced on food.

The luxury cars along the way retreated one after another.

The crunching and crunching sounds constitute a terrifying BGM.

"It's so exciting," Jiang Che put his right hand on the passenger seat, and then jumped into the water like a carp from the back row and jumped onto the passenger seat.

"My sister's breasts are so small," the writer curled her lips.

"Oh~ otherwise I wouldn't be able to wear it," he tilted his head and smiled, "This is an advantage."

"However, I think we may have to finalize it now." Fast and Furious. The writer tried his best to maintain the steering wheel, but at this time, the steering wheel was heavy and it was difficult for him to turn it.

A kind of soreness was jumping up and down his arm, which must be a strain of the biceps and triceps muscles.

"Not yet," Jiang Che lifted his hair slightly and straightened his somewhat messy clothes.

"But you have to pay some money."

Jiang Che locked the belt completely, then put one hand on the steering wheel, "Let go."

"Are you okay?"

"Haha~" she smiled evilly and pressed the steering wheel firmly there. "I am Superman~" she blinked her left eye.

Gaga~

The car frame let out a dull whimper and rushed towards the deserted green belt. The huge potential energy easily tore a gap in the cement fence of the plants.

"Are you still human?"

"Don't look at a woman like that, he's rude," Jiang Che stared ahead. Jiang Che turned the steering wheel with one hand, and the car steadily plowed a new path on the green belt.

The veins in Jiang Che's hands stood out one by one.

...

Today is a very boring day.

Yimeng (policeman) slumped down at the table and poked the ice cream in front of him with a small spoon.

"I'm so fucking idle that my head is split." Yimeng slapped the table with a bang, and the ice cream cream fell on his face. A pair of black eyes were swaying in the white cream.

He's unlucky enough.

"Here comes the ice cream, here comes the ice cream." A dark-faced traffic policeman came in excitedly from outside carrying a basin of ice cream.

The two people at the table looked at the man without saying anything. He was an assassin, and he also brought a pot of assassins. Who could withstand this?

pangolin?

"Eat~" He raised his hand to indicate eating. But Yimeng didn't even dare to eat.

Everyone around stood up and looked at the person who ordered the death to death strangely.

"Save it, it's probably a nice thing to have a cold drink on a hot day."

If it was suspicion just now, now it is basically...

Black-faced man:...

It took a long time for the two people on the table to calm down. Yimeng looked at the black-faced man with cream on his face.

"Huh?" The black-faced man handed over a napkin, "You can't go back, so save it~"

"Damn it," Yimeng wiped the cream off his face indiscriminately, "I remember when I was fighting drug lords in the Golden Triangle..." He crumpled the used napkin into a small ball and threw it away.

"If you want to go back, you shouldn't do that." The black-faced man leaned down, picked up the napkin pinned outside the wastebasket, and threw it into the wastebasket again.

Yimeng's eyebrows were squeezed together, and he pursed his lips, "Those scum just look like them and make me unhappy!"

"But those are just ordinary prisoners. You used force. This is called torture to extract confessions," the black-faced man shrugged and licked the ice cream.

It's sweet, cold, and very comfortable.

Yimeng rubbed his head, not wanting to listen to this junior's ramblings, and stuck the spoon into the ice cream.

He doesn't like this kind of sweet food, it doesn't replenish energy enough, and it can easily cause gastrointestinal problems, bringing trouble to the battle.

But now, Yimeng sighed, the traffic police don't need to fight...they need to be gentle and patient.

"Big guy," the black-faced man licked the ice cream and looked outside, "I actually quite like you..."

"I have a family, I'm not gay..."

"Ha~" The black-faced man pulled his face, "You know that's not what I meant."

Yimeng rolled his eyes and looked outside the cold drink shop. The setting sun was shining slantingly, giving the entire street a golden glow. It was a very peaceful city in Hangzhou.

The street lights gave off a faint cold light, and there were only two or three pedestrians there, so it wasn't too busy.

A little girl, holding a woman's hand, tilted her head and lay on the glass door, blinking and staring at the window of the cold drink shop.

The woman pulled the little girl, and the girl turned around and opened her eyes wide at the woman. However, the woman ignored her and walked away. The little girl was left standing helplessly in circles in front of the window, as if she was about to cry.

Ordinary to the point of being sparse and ordinary, without any ripples.

The fatigue of this day made Yimeng drowsy, and his work as a traffic policeman did not bring him any passion.

"The golden dragon is not a thing in the pond. It turns into a dragon when the storm blows." The black-faced man patted Yimeng on the shoulder, "You are a man of great luck."

Yimeng shook his head, "Stop talking, I've become a traffic policeman..." Yimeng's eyes lost their brilliance. More than ten years of licking blood with the tip of a knife, and one day of silence left him at a loss.

Toot~

A shrill car horn sounded from outside.

People at the door of the cold drink shop first stopped to watch curiously, but with the sound of popping, the crowd turned into a commotion.

"Dududu~"

The car horn sounded very urgent, and pedestrians on the street fled to the shops on both sides in panic.

"Run~"

"Sister~" It was the woman who let out a heartbreaking cry. There was a kind of fear on her face that spread infinitely.

The child in front of the window stood there motionless with his eyes wide open.

"nui~nui~" (Wu dialect, probably means girl) the woman waved her hands crazily.

A man was stunned for a moment, turned around, picked up the child in front of the window, rolled on the ground, and rushed into the cold drink shop.

"?" Yimeng stood up and looked out doubtfully.

Woo!

With the roar of a car, the awning set up at the door was pulled up one after another, and the steel bracket was knocked out.

Stools made of plastic, tables made of compressed wood, and some plastic bags were rolled up like pieces of paper and then crushed.

The saplings in the green belt fell down one by one, and the small books were directly broken, revealing the shocking white wood.

The green grass blades fluttered in the air and fluttered to the ground.

The destructive power is astonishing.

"car?"

"It seems so," the black-faced man stood up. "What's going on?"

"Damn it!" The man holding the child let go of the frightened and crying child, half-knelt on the ground, and gently comforted the little thing.

The woman dropped the bag in her hand and ran like crazy from the mess. When she passed the glass door, she was knocked out of shape by the glass door.

"Mom~" hugged each other and cried.

"Don't cry~ don't cry," the woman cried herself.

"The car seems to be out of control," Yimeng took out the intercom from his belt, "Command center, this is the cold drink shop in District 12. A car is out of control. It is moving from east to west. Please ask nearby police officers to evacuate the crowd.

"

"License plate? Model? I don't know. It's almost flying... I told you I don't know, how to record it!" Yimeng replied to the command center in a "friendly" manner, and patiently communicated with the operator, "Fuck, just write it like this

, model f2w (pronounced: AI service twenty thousand), about Mach 200~" Bang! Throw it on the table.

"??" The black-faced man had a question mark on his face.

Mach 200? You can't even fly a fighter jet that fast. How about you fooling a kid?

"It's already blown up, why bother with this? Damn it..." Yimeng cursed, put on a reflective vest, put on a helmet, and ran outside.

"Hey!" The black-faced man chased after him.

However, Yimeng had already mounted the scooter and put away the parking rack.

"Call the emergency center," Yimeng glanced sideways at his colleague.

"Emergency center?"

"Oh~ I think..." Twisting the handle, there was a roar of the motorcycle, and Yimeng hunched forward and drove out. "Whether his father is Li Gang or not, the driver will probably need a few stitches."

.

How many stitches are needed? The black-faced man felt that things were going a bit badly. He was originally one thug, but now he may be two thugs.

"Command Center..."

...

Yimeng was driving very fast, but the tail of the Wuling car was not caught.

Woo ang~

After running two streets, the car crashed straight into a street tree. The entire front of the car was dented, the rear of the car was raised, and the rear wheels kept spinning.

The car fell apart and stopped.

People on the roadside watched from a distance and talked about it.

The frightened crowd looked at the calm carriage and remained vigilant.

"Bang!" With a sound, the Wuling car's deformed door was kicked open, and a black bag was thrown out from inside.

"Cough cough cough."

The circuit was short-circuited, and a burning smell filled the air. A plume of dark smoke curled up from the front of the car. It seemed that the situation was already very urgent.

A woman wearing a cheongsam climbed out, coughing, coughing, and taking several puffs of cigarette.

Her long hair was messy, her cheongsam was torn, and some fabric was exposed from the fur coat underneath. The woman frowned and pushed her hair up from her forehead.

"Jiangnan~" The woman knelt down, reached into her black handbag, took out something, and held it in her hand.

"I~" With a heavy kick, the writer stretched out one hand from another window. The window was deformed and was too small for the whole person to pass through.

Creak, creak. The door shook crazily a few times, but it didn't move.

The door bolt is broken.

"Wait for me to do my hair first~" Jiang Che pulled out a piece of plastic inserted into her calf, and gurgling blood seeped out from the white socks. Jiang Che gritted his teeth and pulled off a piece of cheongsam hem with one hand, wrapping it around him casually.

on top.

This kind of wound treatment is not very good, but it is better than nothing.

After taking a look at the passers-by, I came to the conclusion that they were of no help. I had to struggle on my own.

"Let's go, it's going to explode," the door stopped ringing, and the writer had no energy left.

"There is still some time. The good news is that the fuel tank has not caught fire yet," Jiang Che pressed his injured leg and walked around the front of the car.

There was broken glass everywhere, and her bare feet left bloody footprints every step of the way.

Jiang Che's white teeth stuck to his lips, and there was a string of blood beads on his red lips.

"It's not worth staying," the writer said anxiously, punching the deformed window frame.

"There's still a chance, little guy," Jiang Che raised his feet, pulled out a large piece of glass shards with his bare hands, and looked at the car door, "This car door with an unstable structure cannot stop physics."

"I saw an open flame."

Tiny flames appeared in front of the windshield, like poisonous snakes, licking the softened plastic shell with bloodthirsty.

On the light blue flame, black smoke is entwined with white smoke, rising slowly.

"Then I need to hurry up," Jiang Che shook his cloth-wrapped feet, took half a step back, and shouted, "Little guy, hold your head!"

He raised his legs high, struck hard with his heels, and kicked the car door with a loud sound. The door was completely dented, but the door lock was still closed.

Click~click~The car body tilted slowly, and it was about to turn over.

Jiang Che frowned slightly. Unlike her expectation, this car was a bit difficult to handle.

"Come again," Jiang Che shouted, spreading his hair, raising his leg high again, and hitting the door with his kick.

This time the door bolt was broken, but the car door was dented. Jiang Che pulled the car door open with one hand, like tearing apart a piece of paper.

The writer curled up and hid under the steering wheel. He was covered in blood and could not tell where he was injured.

"We have to hurry up, we're in a bit of a hurry," Jiang Che's eyes fell on the weak flames of the co-pilot on the right. The black smoke had weakened, but the combustion was more complete.

The writer braced his body, and a stinging electric current ran through his thigh. He couldn't use any strength. His injury was not very minor.

He crawled on his knees, put his hands on the ground, and climbed out of the car with difficulty.

"You look very embarrassed," Jiang Che steadied himself, then stretched out a hand to grab the writer's arm. The strong grip was like an iron clamp fixing the writer in the hands of the female physicist. Then the writer,

He was dragged out, leaving a long trail of blood on the ground.

Just when the two of them walked two or three meters away, the car crashed and fell over.

A car rod pierced the gasoline tank, and colorless gasoline gurgled.

Flames shot out from the cab and fell on the gasoline on the ground.

It exploded. The hot air wave pushed forward and blew on the face, making it warm.

Splattered fragments flew all over the sky, falling to the ground and crackling like rain. There was also a burning effect, a faint blue flame, glowing with a strange light.

Jiang Che quickly dragged the writer back with quick eyes and hands, leaned down and blocked the writer. Fortunately, this time, no splashing objects were interested in them.

The writer looked at his sister who was covering his body, and his eyes widened.

"Hehe," Jiang Che shook his head, "You're lucky."

"Sister~" the writer murmured, not knowing what to say.

"A person is so handsome~"

Jiang Che dragged the broken writer, and the two continued to move forward.

The two siblings leaned under a street tree, exhausted, looking at the blazing car, and smiled at each other.

"Hey, you're going bankrupt," Jiang Che pressed her leg and cradled the writer with his hand.

"No~ I... bought a high-cost insurance," the writer laughed loudly, "probably I can earn a lot of money."

"Then I..."

"Hahaha~" Back to back.

"...."

Squeaking, the sound of tires rubbing together.

The writer raised his head and saw a shadow cast down, it was a traffic policeman.

"It looks like you're going to the emergency room without me." Yimeng parked his motorcycle on the side of the road, set up the stand, squatted down, and checked on the two people.

The writer moved away the hand that was stretched out in front of his nostrils. "I'm still alive," he said with a grin, which touched his wound.

"The injury is serious," Yimeng glanced at Jiang Che, who was so tired that he could only breathe heavily.

"Have you ever learned Israeli fighting skills?" Yimeng originally wanted to check some of Jiang Che's wounds, but when he saw her ragged clothes, he took his hand back.

Jiang Che pressed the wound to reduce the blood flow, but the effect was not very obvious. The plastic piece cut open a vein in his calf, and the red blood continued to drain. Her lips turned pale at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"No... officer, I'm just a physicist."

"physicist?"

"Yes." Jiang Che blinked.

The cold wind blew on this woman's face, and her messy hair was stained with blood, one strand after another, very bloody.

Yimeng's many years of combat experience told him that Jiang Che was not a simple woman. He had just seen Jiang Che smashing the door with his legs raised in the distance. That action could not be completed without professional training. Moreover, with such an injury, he could still do it

To be so calm...

But this has nothing to do with him.

"Then the female physicist driver, you were speeding just now. You are suspected of dangerous driving..."

"I'm the driver~" The writer raised his hands feebly.