Who moved my novel?

"That means you drank together that night and he didn't leave until after one o'clock, right?"

The criminal policeman took the record book and asked and took notes. He laughed at the bloody ink and laughed at the bloody ink. He still had to do business.

"Yes." Xue Mo nodded: "We drank three bottles in total."

"A pound of it?"

"It should be about a pound." Xue Mo nodded.

"It's quite drinkable." The detective was a little surprised: "How much is it?"

"I don't know much about this..." Xue Mo thought for a while: "Just for common snowflakes, I don't know the specific temperature."

"Snowflakes?" The detective raised his eyebrows: "Two of you? Three bottles of snowflakes?"

"Yeah." Xue Mo nodded: "It should be right. Although I drank a bit too much that day, judging from the empty bottle, it should be this amount."

"After drinking three bottles of snowflakes like this, you are also a fool!" The detective gave a thumbs up: "Do you know what happened to the wound on Pei Dian's hand?"

"Are you talking about the one on your palm?" Xue Mo asked, pointing to his palm.

"Yes, that's it." The detective nodded.

"That's..." Xue Mo was a little embarrassed: "I want to make preserved egg tofu. Brother Pei said that he has good knife skills and can cut tofu with his hands, and he cuts it very evenly..."

"..." The detective probably understood after hearing this. After drinking, some people say that they can hold their breath for an hour.

"Is the knife still there?" the detective asked casually.

In fact, in this case, there was no need to find a knife. It was not a fatal injury anyway, and they were just going through the motions.

"Yes." Xue Mo nodded: "I just took it to the kitchen to peel the apples, please wait a moment."

After saying that, Xue Mo quickly walked into the kitchen and soon took out a fruit knife no more than ten centimeters long.

"That's it." The detective looked at the knife casually, without even picking up the knife: "Okay, you can continue cutting your apples. If nothing happens, we'll leave."

"Ah?" Xue Mo was stunned for a moment: "Won't you take this knife with you?"

"No, no, no." The detective waved his hand: "You can keep it and use it. Let's go first."

"You two, go slowly." Xue Mo quickly escorted the two of you to the door.

"Oh, right." The detective walked to the door and suddenly looked at Xue Mo again.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't forget to go to the woods." The detective suppressed a smile and patted Xue Mo's shoulder.

"..." Xue Mo waved to the two of them with a dark face.

It’s over, I can’t clean it up this time.

…

"Zhao...Master Zhao Feng..."

As soon as they went out, two criminal policemen were pulled closer to the house by Zhao Feng.

Don't look at them punching hard in front of Xue Mo, but now they don't dare to do anything in front of Zhao Feng.

"Have you finished asking?" Zhao Feng sat on the chair, crossed his legs, and let the two of them stand without any intention of letting them sit down.

"Finished asking."

"Does your head still hurt?" Zhao Feng asked as he looked at the man who had just been bumped into the door frame.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, it doesn't hurt anymore!" The man smiled flatteringly and gave a thumbs up: "Young Master Zhao Feng is so skilled!"

"You are too weak. I can't beat even half of my peers!" Zhao Feng did not save any face for them.

"Master Zhao Feng is so humble, we must learn from you!" The detective just licked him.

"Don't talk nonsense." Zhao Feng took out his e-cigarette and took a puff: "Tell me about the situation."

"It's nothing special. It's just that Pei Zhuan drank too much and fell drunk in the snow and froze to death. In fact, the Bureau has already concluded this matter. We are just going through the motions."

"How much did they drink?" Zhao Feng didn't care whether their decision was final or not.

If they are all right, then why do we still need Detective Holmes Feng?

"Three bottles of snowflakes." The detective suppressed a smile.

To be honest, if two people are drunk with three bottles of snowflakes, they will be treated as a joke.

"Three bottles of snowflakes?" Zhao Feng frowned.

Maybe... things may not be that simple.

After all... Xue Mo once told himself personally that Pei Zhuan would "never again" harass him.

…

"Master, are you okay now?" Xiao Li opened the door of Dong Peng's studio in a depressed state.

"Xiao Li." Dong Peng smiled: "It's nothing urgent. What's wrong?"

"I have some questions to ask you. Is it convenient for you?"

"Come in." Dong Peng smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Master Dong." Xiao Li sat opposite Dong Peng a little uneasily, as if he wanted to say something, but he hesitated.

"Let me take a look." Dong Peng took out a metal instrument and played with it for a while, then raised his head and looked at Xiao Li: "When it comes to things in the world, some are about right and wrong, and some are about right and wrong. Love, and some are about interests.”

"Master!" Xiao Li looked at Dong Peng in shock: "I haven't said anything yet!"

"I know." Dong Peng smiled and nodded: "I know everything. If it's not convenient to say it, don't say it."

"But……"

"There are some things you can't change. It's not your fault." Dong Peng shook his head gently: "The same people have different fates. It's not your fault. There are some things you can't change. Do your best. Just do it yourself, time will reward you.”

"Yes, Master." Xiao Li exhaled and felt a little lighter: "Master, I also want to ask you a question about super powers."

"Are you talking about this money ability?" Dong Peng smiled and took out a stack of banknotes: "This thing is indeed useful, but it is not omnipotent."

"Not about that." Xiao Li continued indifferently: "It's about the ability to predict the future. Do you know that there is such an ability?"

"Well..." Dong Peng lowered his head and pondered for a while: "Are you asking about Xue Mo?"

"Nothing can be hidden from you." Xiao Li scratched his head embarrassedly: "Look, he can accurately predict the death every time, and he can also tell some details of the scene. If this is not a prophecy, what else can it be?"

"Maybe he is the real murderer?" Dong Peng made a joke, but he became serious after a moment: "Regarding prophecy, different schools and different theories have their own views. Some are based on scientific perspectives, and some are based on metaphysics."

"Is there a theory that explains prophecy from a scientific perspective?" Xiao Li asked in surprise.

In his cognition, this kind of thing has always been in the category of metaphysics. When did science actually explain this?

"Of course, for example, there is a theory that some dreams are the subconscious reasoning about the future, that is, precognitive dreams."

"Subconscious?" Xiao Li smiled awkwardly: "I always thought that the subconscious is also in the category of metaphysics."

"Hahaha," Dong Peng smiled indifferently and waved his hand: "It doesn't matter, these are not important. What does it matter whether it is metaphysics or science? The important thing is that some people do have the ability to predict the future."