Speaking of which, the matter of cultivation is still a secret that is not known to the public.

In addition, Cheng Beiguo's move was also inadvertent.

If someone accidentally caught up, this would be a major office accident. Jiuke was punished second, and the responsibility Cheng Beiguo himself would bear would be even greater.

"Don't worry, I'll go to the underground cold storage to get it done." Cheng Beiguo drooped his eyelids, his clear sound was like a musical rhyme, and he still had the indifference after casting the spell.

Zong Zhengdong pursed his lips and said nothing.

The underground cold storage...well, it is indeed a place that only Medical Doctor Cheng would choose.

The freezer of the corpse storage in the headquarters forensic forensic department is placed in the cold storage. It is estimated that only one person in the entire General Administration would not mind staying there for a long time.

Seeing that Zong Zhengdong was not speaking, Cheng Beiguo rolled his eyes, raked his long legs hard on the floor, and the swivel chair slid out silently, slid straight to Zong Zhengdong's desk, and then stopped.

He skillfully pulled open the third drawer of his left hand, took out several bags of compressed biscuits from it, and glanced at the logo on the packaging bag.

"Well, this tastes good, I'll buy some next time." He swallowed the last dry food in his mouth, clapped his hands, turned to look at Zong Zhengdong.

That impeccable face made Zong Zhengdong urge to punch him.

However, the other party's next words dispelled his idea.

"This time I was lucky, I saw someone."

Cheng Beiguo's voice was very cold. When he was speaking, he picked up a bag of unopened biscuits and tore open the packaging bag with a "squeak". His knuckles with distinct joints were clicked on the desk: "I've drawn it."

Zong Zhengdong was stunned.

"I can draw, the police officer doesn't know?" Cheng Beiguo stuffed a large piece of biscuit into his mouth, his voice a little confused.

Zong Zhengdong's lip line instantly tensed.

He had noticed at this time that there was indeed an extra picture clip on his desk.

This guy really knows how to draw?!

Zong Zhengdong took a step forward and picked up the picture clip, while Cheng Beiguo's unemotional voice also sounded at this moment:

"I saw a man in the time and space retrospective. His facial features were very... vague, which could be said to be so blurry that he almost didn't exist. But the general outline characteristics were still clear. I thought there was something wrong with this person, so I drew him down."

He took a big bite of the biscuit and chewed it hard, as if he hadn't eaten for eight hundred years. He didn't even drink water. He swallowed it straight up and then said:

"That face is too blurry, but the other parts are too clear. I'm afraid that the painters here who say it with their mouths won't understand, so I did it myself."

He raised his head, poured all the remaining scraps in the bag into his mouth, threw away the packaging bag, and said confidently with a mouthful of cookie scraps, "Don't worry, my painting skills are very good. We were also a person who passed Gome back then... Cough cough cough."

He was finally choked, so he raked his feet neatly on the ground, then slid his swing chair to the water purifier, poured himself a glass of water.

Zong Zhengdong looked at him coldly.

He was sure that if he was not a member of the discipline army, this guy could have been able to move from the hall to the top floor in a swivel chair, and maybe he could go out for a walk around the streets or something.

Cheng Beiguo did not care about Zong Zhengdong's eyes.

After pouring the water, he slid his swivel chair to the window, taking the night view of the imperial capital, slowly sipping the cool white bloom in the cup, looking comfortable.

Zong Zhengdong's lip line became straight again, and after a while, he looked at the colorful portrait again.

Cheng Beiguo didn't lie.

His painting skills are indeed quite exquisite, perfectly showing both "vague facial features" and "blurred contour features".

The painting is a man who looks quite gentle, with a thin outline. Although he cannot tell his eyebrows and eyes, the pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose give people this feeling.

In addition, this person should not be very old, with many hair and black hair, his sideburns are neatly trimmed, and his jaws are also shaved quite cleanly.

All of this shows that the person's career should be relatively quiet and does not require long-term outdoor work, such as clerks, finance, programming, etc., which are white-collar workers in the standard sense.

After staring at the portrait for a full minute, Zong Zhengdong suddenly pointed his hand to a certain place on the picture and asked Cheng Beiguo: "What is this?"

Cheng Beiguo had slid back near the desk at some point. He was putting his long legs on the file cabinet to play with his cell phone. Hearing this, he stretched out his neck and looked at the clip, shrugged:

"It should be a lanyard. The kind of work sign hanging. I think it is."

"I'm not talking about this, I'm talking about this thing on the lanyard." Zong Zhengdong pointed to the bottom corner of the blue lanyard.

There are a few light yellow spots there, like patterns, or prints, and it may be a logo.

"You didn't see what this thing is?" he asked.

Cheng Beiguo didn't say anything, but looked at him with his contact lenses, as if saying "Why do you ask such a stupid question?"

Zong Zhengdong pursed his lips and said no more.

He just wanted to make sure it was confirmed, but he didn't expect to be despised by a slut.

Restraining his impulse to punch someone, Zong Zhengdong looked at the yellow markings in the painting again.

For some reason, he always felt that he had seen this thing.

Where have you seen it?

He frowned and fell into deep memories.

…………………………

Before he could reach the entrance of the community, Song Junjie took out the keys of the house.

The sky was completely dark, and a few street lights stood sparsely on the street, with orange light falling down, coldly like the moon wheel in a windy day.

He looked up at the sky.

Without the moon, the lights in the bustling city in the distance reflect the clouds, but this old community cannot be reflected in it. Even though it is actually located within the Fifth Ring Road, it has been lively and prosperous in the past.

However, it's all over.

Song Junjie stopped and took a deep breath.

The air was filled with water vapor, humid and warm, and the smell of wild grass and leaves mixed in between, circling and turning around his lungs.

He closed his eyes with pleasure.

"Jicxiangli Community reminds residents that garbage sorting starts with me. Please lock the doors and windows, close the water, electricity and gas, and pay attention to fire and theft."

Song Junjie's enjoyment expression was frozen in an instant, and he slowly opened his eyes and looked back.

Two men, who were obviously community workers, were riding bicycles, and the community notifications were played in the electric speaker on the front of the bike. They walked down the scattered lights in the corner of the street and rode slowly over.

"Xiao Song, I'm just back." When I rode to the entrance of the community, the older staff got off the bicycle and greeted Song Junjie with a smile.
Chapter completed!