There's definitely something wrong with this script.

Chapter 153 Your Emotional Experience Is More Complicated

Xu Shuo quietly listened to those movements, and also felt the cold malice that gradually invaded his body.

He probably understood why those players were playing charades before, just like Bigan's heart, you won't die until you clearly recognize "death".

But if your cognition is broken, then what will be greeted will also be real death.

However, before falling into the abyss completely, there is still a chance to struggle.

Xu Shuo picked up the cane resting on his lap, and was about to knock on the floor, but suddenly, the outstretched cane hit something.

He paused, tilting his head slightly.

Seeing that Xu Shuo had already discovered it, there was a chuckle next to him.

The dancer hugged his arm holding the cane, leaned closer and said, "Sister, where do you want to go? You can't see, it's hard to find clues, I can be your eyes~"

Xu Shuo said for a while, "Actually, I just assumed it casually just now. I didn't expect that everyone would quarrel because of it."

"That means they have ghosts in their hearts."

"Sister, what about you?" Xu Shuo continued, "Aren't you looking for clues? There are so many things that happened in the villa, and my sister must be involved."

"It's okay. When they find out the relevant clues, my matter will almost be clear. Why bother?"

Xu Shuo turned his head to the place where the voice came from.

He couldn't see anything in the dark, he could only feel it from the hugged arm, and when the other party got closer, the faint fragrance wafted over.

Xu Shuo stretched out his free left hand, raised it slightly, and stroked the face of the person in front of him as if groping.

Then he squeezed his fingers together, and the dancer made a doubtful sound.

"My sister is so considerate of me, I am very happy."

Xu Shuo said quietly: "But I can't see anything, and now I don't know where to look for clues. Why don't you just take me for a walk and tell me what you see."

"Okay, I'll help you!" The dancer stood up cheerfully.

...

...

The piano room on the second floor.

The pianist took apart the piano and seemed to be looking for something.

Although there are many guest rooms on the second floor of the villa, just like the kitchen is the chef's territory, the piano room can also be regarded as being in charge of him, so it is understandable to look for clues here first.

However, there was nothing abnormal about the piano—then why did the dancer approach him then?Is it really just a simple close observation of him playing the piano?
The pianist sat on the stool, flipping through the signed sheet music.

Suddenly, he noticed something and turned to look at the door.

A female writer in a white chiffon shirt with a very shiny red brooch on her chest walked in.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Let's cooperate." The female writer put her handbook on the keys, leaned on the piano and said: "There is your record on it, I can be sure that you are not the redundant 'murderer', not to mention our current relationship. If you are suspected, you might as well just cooperate."

"If we walked together, wouldn't it be even more suspicious?" the pianist said.

"It doesn't matter."

The female writer crossed her arms again, as if she was a little cold. She looked at the dark red piano room, and always felt that the air inside was even colder.

The pianist became interested, picked up her handbook, and said, "Then what if I really participated in the murder? For example, I killed the lawyer because I was jealous, and then took possession of you or something."

Hearing this, the female writer's eyes were strange, expressing that she was given a chill by this statement

"I can pretty much believe that I love my husband," she said.

It's up to you what you think.

The pianist was noncommittal, and opened the account to check.

It has to be said that the determination of the female writer is not without reason. Although most of the records in the handbook are her own mood chatter, or the source of writing inspiration.

But if other people appear on the scene, it must be her and the lawyer. Every time the words written are still full of the nasty version of the writer's graceful school.

Until the arrival of the blind girl in the later period, there was one more person appearing in the account.

It can be seen from written records that the female writer liked the girl who joined their family very much, and also got inspiration from her.

In the later stage, the pianist appeared.

Women writers show the same love for it as they do for blind women, and the words in praise of its music are endless.

As for the last record in the handbook, it is a candlelight dinner for female writers and lawyers.

"Did you read my love for you?" After watching him flip through, the female writer said quietly.

"I read..." The pianist pondered: "You have less and less records about your husband in the later period. After the blind girl appeared, your eyes are all on other people."

"Maybe." The female writer frowned.

She also read a few novel manuscripts that have not been published before, a love story between a border town painter and a wandering female white-collar worker, but one pursues romance and spirit, and the other pursues reality and material things, and the two sides redeem each other.

If writers like to substitute themselves, that story is a true portrayal of women writers.

She was crazily thirsting for inspiration for writing, so that after discovering that music could sublimate her mind, she threw herself into it desperately.

The pianist said: "Then, if your husband suspects you of cheating on me because you neglected him, then the probability of both of us dying at his hands is the highest."

The female writer responded, "And then?"

"But if you feel that you haven't cheated at all, and that your husband is making trouble for no reason, then you will..."

"A dispute?" The female writer narrowed her eyes.

"Yes." The pianist continued: "Do you remember what I said before, the pillar of the stair handrail left blood stains, it is likely that the people on the second floor fell down and hit it."

"But that vase..."

"The table of the vase is actually some distance away from the spiral staircase. If you are accidentally pushed down the stairs by an angry lawyer while you are arguing, while the servant is cleaning the vase——

[The maid wipes the vase in the villa. 】

"It is possible that he rushed over and gave the lawyer a hammer."

"..."

There was silence in the piano room for a while.

The female writer twitched her lips, and pointed her finger at her handbook: "In my diary, there is no record of the male servant's appearance!"

The pianist comforted her: "Don't worry, this is just my speculation."

"But don't you think your speculation is more complicated?" The female writer frowned and asked her soul: "Why did the male servant do that? Attacking his boss, it's impossible to say that he also had an affair with me, right? I Do you have to cheat?"

The pianist rubbed his chin: "Who knows, anyway, that vase must be related to the male servant."

"And you?" asked the female writer.

"me……"

The pianist paused. Since the female writer had already shared clues with him, he didn't mind revealing a little of his own clues, so he reached out and took out something from his trousers.

(End of this chapter)