Chapter 72:

Jian Yao did not expect to receive a call from Luo Lang at this time.
Stars sparse in the middle of the night, and the police car whistled. Bo Jinyan sat beside her, and she picked up, "Hey, Lao Luo?"
Fang Qing, who drove in front, also heard. An Yan went to help the city bureau process the data, and the three of them were in the car.
Lou Lang sounds particularly quiet, like staying in some empty and quiet place. He said softly, "Jian Yao, how are you busy these days?"
Jian Yao replied: "It's okay. The case has been moving forward."
"Is that butterfly killer really nerve-racking?"
Jian Yao: "Have you heard that?"
"Yes, it's all reported on TV."
"Yeah." Jian Yao sighed. "Just another died."
"I'll catch it," said Luo Lang gently.
Jian Yao smiled: "Well. Why, you call at midnight, what's the matter?"
"What can I do? I care about you two. Anyway, it is estimated that you are investigating the case, but it is also upside down day and night, and now you simply call. Listening to your voice is quite mental, staying up late. Especially the old man, tell him that the man stays up late and hurts himself."
Jian Yao quickly looked up and said, "Lao Luo told you to stay up late and hurt yourself."
Fang Qing smiled and replied, "I know. What is he doing? He doesn't sleep at night and doesn't need to spend time with his girlfriend?"
Luo Lang at the other side also heard, and answered, "My girlfriend has been a few days ago, it's boring. I'm also on a business trip outside the country, and it may take a while to return to Beijing. I'll see you for dinner."
Jian Yao: "Well, good. See you then."
Hanging up the phone, Fang Qing smiled brightly: "This boy, won't he dump people after 90?"
Jian Yao smiled slightly: "You guessed it."
Fang Qing: "Fuck, we despise him together."
The night breeze blew gently from the window, and Jian Yao gradually smiled, only to realize that Bo Jinyan beside him was always quiet. Because both of them had cried in the office just now, Jian Yao's eyes were a little red. Although he was wearing sunglasses, his cheeks were a little flushed.
Jian Yao looked at him, but he seemed to notice it immediately, and asked, "Luo Lang?"
"Ok."
He sat still and didn't speak. It looked a bit dull and a bit cold.
Jian Yao suddenly remembered that she was also in the car. She received a call from Luo Lang and sang a "Big Luo". As a result, Bo Jinyan seemed a little unhappy. She asked if he was jealous, and he denied it. Turning her head but tempting her to call him "Brother Jin Yan" ...
"He and I are just friends." Jian Yao said softly.
"I know." He replied, then a little smile on his face.
His happiness and unhappiness are always revealed directly. Jian Yao's hair was soft and she whispered, "You're not with me. I always need a friend to accompany me."
He took her hand and said, "Well, I have An An beside me."
Fang Qing looked at the night lights in front of the car, smiled at the corners of her mouth, but sighed in her heart.
They're reconciled, it's great.
The two people who really love each other probably don't want to be separated for a minute and a second.
But what about him? He and his princess.
Why can't they go together now?

The body was found in an abandoned building by the road. The time at this moment is four in the morning, and it is presumed that the time of death is between 2 and 3 in the morning.
Fang Qing parked the car beside the road, and other police cars also blocked the broken building. Jian Yao looked up and saw that across the street was the neighbourhood where Nie Shijun lived. From here, she could even see the roof of the neighbourhood. Bo Jinyan previously inferred that this was the main activity space for the killer, not the park, and it was true.
Bo Jinyan also came out of the car. He felt the surrounding light and the sound of the car. Obviously, the traffic on this road is not small. Even in the middle of the night, there are often cars passing by. Jian Yao looked at him with a cane standing on the street in a thoughtful manner, but he lost sight of it for a moment.
"A traffic light ahead?" He asked.
Jian Yao answered, "Yes. 20 meters ahead. How do you know?"
He only smiled slightly, turned and turned across the street, intending to cross the road. Then he paused and stretched out her hand. Jian Yao had a moment of solitude, then handed him.
Nothing has changed. On that night, he reached out to her for the first time.
A few years later, he stood on the street and reached out to her again.
Only this time, it was her turn to go in front, and he was in the back. She took him and walked slowly. No one knew, his hands were getting tighter and tighter, and when she lowered her head, she saw his thin, quiet figure.
Noisy intersection, suddenly quiet. Fang Qing and Shao Yong, who had crossed the street, looked at them.
"Did you hear that?" Jian Yao asked, regarding the existence of traffic lights.
The smile on the corner of Bo Jinyan's lips continued: "Huh."
So Jian Yao felt a little bit of joy. What she thought was that Bo Jinyan had gradually become accustomed to blindness, and even tried to use hearing instead of vision to make some judgments. Although it was only a simple gesture, what she felt was the anger of Bo Jinyan.
He is recovering, a kind of lively "thin Jinyan style" who is determined and free to control everything.

This is an empty room, probably built in the 1980s, and has not yet been demolished. The paint on the doorway is peeling off and the floor is full of trash, so only some homeless people will stay here.
The lights are also bad. Jian Yao and Bo Jinyan walked to the door and let go of their hands. She and Fang Qing walked ahead, and Bo Jinyan's cane tapped on the ground and followed.
The deceased was in the room inside.
The dead was a middle-aged homeless man.
In the light of several flashlights, the most noticeable is the first two sentences written in red on the wall and then the body on the ground.
"Youwillnevercatchme!" (You will never catch me!)
"Therewillbethenextone." (There will be next.)
That English word was so dazzling, red paint drooping along the pen's edge, and it looked very embarrassing.
The body on the ground is exactly the same as Nie Shijun. The skinny tramp at 1 meter and 6 feet has a bruise around his neck, his hands are tied to the top of his head by ropes, and so is his ankle. The ground below him was cleared out of a clean place and painted with black wings and red butterflies. Broad-tailed swallowtail butterfly.
Both Jian Yao and Fang Qing joined the tense on-site exploration, while Bo Jinyan stood quietly in the corner of the room. At a certain moment, Jian Yao looked up and saw him, her heart sullen. Then she walked to his side and whispered, "The dead is lying on the ground about 1.5 meters to the right in front of you ..."
Bo Jinyan said, "Very good."
"This time, the butterflies have been drawn more finely. There will be a little burr and imperfections last time. This time they are neatly printed."
"He is finally enjoying the process," said Bo Jinyan, "the writing on the wall ..."
"It's sloppy." Jian Yao replied, she thought about it, pulled him to the wall, then held his hand and touched the handwriting with gloves. Move along the pen. The process was so silent that moonlight came in through the window next to him, and when he lowered his head, he could smell the fragrance of her hair.
After touching all the handwriting, Jian Yao turned to look at him: "Is that clear?"
He answered, "Clear."
Jian Yao smiled and asked, "Where do you want to see?"
"Show me what else is in this room."
Jian Yao nodded, grabbed his hand again, touched the same, and said, "The dead tramp should take it as a foothold. There are a bunch of empty bottles in the corner of the wall, and the floor is dirty and dirty Mattresses, and a small coal stove, a very shabby little iron pot ... "