Chapter 11:

The car has been parked in the garage for a long time, but the hands of the white curtain are still holding the steering wheel tightly, and the tip of the tongue is against the upper jaw to taste the breath of thrill. A faint smell of gasoline drifted in from the car window, smoking the tip of his nose and his bulging temple. It took a long time before he relieved himself from this dizzy feeling and silenced his heart all the way Finally, the beating adrenaline leaped wildly, so powerful, so fresh.
"Oh!" He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and smiled lowly and happily.
Bai Mu once suffered a very serious car accident because of Bai Lin's unauthorized departure. The feeling of crushing the bones is still deeply engraved in his heart. He thought he could no longer drive alone, because that kind of memory of dying has become a nightmare forever, binding his hands and feet. However, just now, when he put aside all his worries and drove back all the way, he discovered how free and free this feeling was!
The anxiety, sorrow, pain, and self-blame that have accumulated in the bottom of my heart are all dissipated in this drastic vent. Since the death of my grandfather and parents, this is the most happy day for the scene. He smiled and turned his eyes, his hands holding the steering wheel exploded with green bars because he was too hard.
An old man slowly approached the car, seeing clearly the person in the driver's seat, and could not help showing a panicked expression: "Small curtain, you, how come you drove back by yourself? Did nothing happen on the road?"
The white curtain raised his head quickly, and the expression of sadness and joy was replaced by a gentle smile: "Uncle Li, I'm fine. I drove back the car myself, and there was no traffic accident on the road." After flashing, I felt a little trance. Such a success was something he didn't dare to think about after he parted ways with Bai Lin.
"Really? You come down quickly, quickly!" Uncle Li opened the door anxiously, fearing what happened to his young master one step later. He grew up watching the white curtain, and naturally knew his strange life.
White curtain avoided his hand, and his voice was a little hoarse because of excitement and pleasure: "Uncle Li, I'm really okay. Don't touch me, beware of bad luck."
"Eh, I don't touch you, you immediately get off the car." Uncle Li's face was distressed and helpless. In order not to harm the people around him, the young master will always keep distance from others consciously or unconsciously. Will he become more and more lonely in the long run? Is his life like this forever?
Bai Ma wanted to pat Li Shu's shoulder as a comfort, but could only avoid the other party's touch far away. He had just stepped out of the door with his front foot, and this luxury car, famous for its high safety factor, slammed shortly and stooped to find that all four tires had burst.
Uncle Li was so terrified that his legs and feet were trembling, but the white curtain looked at this scene with uncertainty, and then realized later that he was lucky that his lucky value today is higher than those who have won billions of lottery tickets. . If he arrives home a few minutes late, a tragic traffic accident will be inevitable! On the way back, he rubbed shoulders with death countless times, and escaped successfully countless times. If this is also called unlucky, who else in the world can be more fortunate than him?
"Small curtain, don't drive yourself by yourself in the future, you want to scare Uncle Li! You don't know how bad your luck is!" Uncle Li's voice came to an abrupt end, and he was horrified: "No, No! Small curtain, how is your luck today so good? The tires burst when you all arrive home safely, is this too abnormal? "
After Bai Lin left, Bai Ma experienced various accidents, was hit by a car, hit by a high-altitude projectile, stabbed by a robber ... In short, he faced the danger of nine deaths every day, and came to him alive. Say like a war.
He naturally knew that everything is abnormal today, so he started to recall frame by frame: it was not Bai Lin, he was not by his side when driving; nor was it his subordinates, after all, they met every day, if one of them could affect His fate should have been abnormal just a long time ago; nor Zhou Lao, he has said long ago that he has no way to change his life, nor can he help him find another person because of his life chart They are all unique. In other words, no one can replace the role of Bai Lin in this world.
Who else? What exactly affected me? The white curtain thought desperately, a face glowing like a moon halo inadvertently drilled into his mind, and then faded away.

Fangallo slept in the bathtub for three days and three nights, and at the same time, the Interpol team was still waiting for his next move. It's been almost two weeks since the death notice he posted. Sun Ying, Fan Luoshan, Zhao Wenyan, and Cao Xiaofeng. These people on the top of the death list are still alive and well.
Since the police's 24-hour protection seriously interfered with the normal work and life of these people, they had fallen into boredom and began to doubt the authenticity of the death notice.
"Please don't follow me anymore! Although I am a star, I also need privacy! Van Gaalo's death notice is just a joke! So many days have passed, if he wants to do it, he will already do it!" Sun Ying randomly beat something on the dressing table, expressing his dissatisfaction with action.
"What if he waited for this moment? What if we just evacuated him and started working immediately?" Zhuang Zhen blocked the door without moving.
Sun Ying's face was pale, and he clearly had concerns in this regard, but when he took out his phone and swiped on Weibo for a while, he recurred: "Look at what this is! I have already said that Van Gogh was Play us! You go, you go quickly, I don't need your protection, I have a bodyguard I hired myself! "
Zhuang Zhen walked over to check on Sun Ying's mobile phone, and then his eyes narrowed. I saw that Fangallo ’s Weibo account sent a line of text-the third one, but everyone he hated was under the strict protection of the police, and even the second victim did not appear. Come the third?
At this moment, Zhuang Zhen's thoughtful head turned blank, and it took a while for normal thinking to resume. He immediately called several other groups, but learned that all the people protected by the group were now very good and did not encounter danger.
"Captain, do the second and third really refer to the objects of revenge? Are we wrong?" The team members discussed in the group.
"Will anyone not be on this list?"
"Continue to check Van Gogharo's social relations! We may have missed something important!"
"It's impossible to miss, his life experience is too simple, there are just a few people who go back and forth!"
"Captain, did you say he was kidding? Now these stars can do anything for the sake of popularity. You see, before he posted Weibo, there were only more than 10 million fans, and now there are more than 60 million, black and red. It ’s also red, did you say that? "
"It is possible!"
"Maybe Gao Yize was not murdered, but accidentally stepped on something and fell from the top floor. Or should we let the forensics department check the scene of the investigation again?"
The more you analyze, the more you feel that Fangallo is bluffing, and Zhuang Zhen has always frowned, never responding in the group. After the discussion came to an end, he said in a deep voice: "The death notice can be said to be a prank, but how to explain the painting? If it was not designed in advance, Van Gaal could not portray Gao Yize's death scene in such detail. You will send two more people to monitor Van Gogh. Be sure to keep an eye on his every move. Others continue to investigate his social relations to see if we have missed anything. The current case is very uncertain, and Van Gogh is our only one. For clues and breakthroughs, do n’t be confused by his weird behavior. How should you check it? How can I check it? Gao Yize ’s social background investigation also picked me up. We need more clues.

"Good captain!"
"Got it!"
"Get orders!"
Everyone quit the group chat and split up.
Regardless of Sun Ying's vigorous resistance, Zhuang Zhen escorted the other party back to his nanny's car. After the dead of night, he was still staying downstairs in the apartment, never leaving his post, and dared not stray his eyes. He leaned on the back row of the car and took out his mobile phone to read all the Weibo posts by Fangallo.
The former Vangalo was a member of the men's group. Because of his outstanding appearance, his family background is also outstanding, and his popularity can occasionally crush Gao Yize. As fans rushed into the comment area, opening their mouths was a confession such as "Brother I love you, brother is cute, brother I can".
But now, his Weibo comment area is full of curses, smelly verbal abuse, and bottomless humiliation. How bad is the human heart? The answer to this question does not need to be found elsewhere, just look at Van Gogh ’s social account.
Zhuang Zhen has seen guns, bullets and rain, and has experienced nine deaths. He prides himself on being as strong as iron, but he suffocates for a second or two when he sees these messages and comments. He drew a cigarette from the cigarette case, lit it with the lighter handed by the team member, took a deep breath, the smoke poured into the throat and nasal cavity, it was really pungent, but took away the abuse, curse and The stink from the humiliation.
The team member glanced at his mobile phone and sighed: "This Van Gogh is really not easy. If you exchange me with him and see these messages, I may have collapsed long ago."
"People speak like swords." Zhuang Zhen breathed out a smoke slowly, somehow admiring Van Gogh. Only a person with such strong psychological quality can plan such a seamless murder?
At the same time, Fangallo was awake and was lying in the bathtub playing with his mobile phone. The cold moonlight poured down through the window, illuminating his gentle eyebrows, and also illuminating his unknown body when he became plump and moisturized. The large purple bruises had long disappeared, and they once broke thinly. The arm is now covered with a thin layer of muscles, the lines are tight and smooth, and the beauty is like a sculpture; those rooted ribs are now covered with delicate skin; this body can no longer be described as thin, but it is rare The flesh at first sight is well-proportioned and has fine texture.
Fangallo extended his long fingertips, gently tapped the next page in the comment area, and then smirked Qingyue. For others, it is equivalent to wind and frost, rain and snow, swords and swords, and stormy storms. What's more, he also drew a lot of nutrients from it to fill the body.
[Everyone is gone, do n’t scold. I have just inquired that those who hated Van Gogh are now alive and kicking, and they are not in danger at all. These inexplicable words he made were all for the heat. The more happily you run in and scold him, the more you hit him! He wants to be crazy, hey, do n’t be fooled! In my opinion, those death notices are false! 】
[Yes, I think it's fake! He has no courage to kill! 】
【Go away, don't increase traffic to this rotten person. 】
[Dogs that can bite will never bark. This phrase is used to describe Van Gogh. He is just a mad dog who likes to bark. He looks very fierce, but he can be killed with a stick. 】
The more sensible people have retired, leaving behind some sprays purely to vent their negative emotions. Fangallo licked his lips, shook his head, and his expression was very disappointed. Without the excitement to see, he put down his phone and continued to sleep in the bathtub, and a strong and condensed black gas poured from all directions, and he slowly entered the water of the bathtub, and then quietly nourished his increasingly flexible body.
Three days later, he was awakened again. His face, which was once clear, was as gentle as sheep fat and white jade. The sharpness and eyebrows between the eyebrows and eyebrows had completely disappeared. He diarrhoeed with a smile.
He logged into Weibo and wrote a line of words slowly-the fourth.