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Yamada nodded, "Miss Shen's memory impresses me. However,"

He changed the subject and his voice suddenly turned cold, "You just said that the safe was locked when you left."

He picked up the pistol on the table, the barrel glowing with a cold blue light under the light.

"But Ishii said that when he left, the safe was not locked at all."

Yamada pushed the gun forward, pressing the muzzle against the edge of the table.

"Now, let me ask you again. Did you take that picture?"

Ye Jingshu looked at the gun and suddenly smiled.

She stretched out her hand, lightly touched the cold barrel of the gun with her fingertips, and then raised her head.

“Colonel, if you think a gun can make me confess, then you underestimate the military police interpreter.

You can shoot, but after you shoot, you'll never find the picture.

Because the real mole is sitting in your conference room right now, watching you waste time here."

Yamada's pupils shrank suddenly.

He stared into Ye Jingshu's eyes.

There was only peace in those eyes.

After a long time, Yamada put the gun back.

"Go back." He waved his hand, his voice hoarse.

Ye Jingshu stood up and pushed the chair back under the table.She walked to the door and suddenly stopped without looking back.

"Colonel," her voice was as light as a gust of wind, "I suggest you check the file bag in the upper left corner of Colonel Ishii's desk.

In that position, only the person holding the document in his left hand would put it down easily.Colonel Ishii is right-handed."

After saying that, she opened the door and walked out.

The military policeman outside the door stepped aside.

The light from the corridor filtered in through the window and shone on her face.

She walked back to the east wing with steady steps.

Lao Zhou was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

There was a crack in the ceiling that ran from the lamp base to the corner of the wall.

Xiao Li leaned over and asked in a very low voice, "What did they ask you?"

Lao Zhou didn't open his eyes.

"Ask who you have contacted."

"What did you say?"

"What should be said has been said, but what should not be said has not been said."

"What shouldn't be said?"

Lao Zhou didn't answer.

His lips moved and closed again.

The index finger of his right hand was still rubbing the seam of his trousers, a little faster than before.

The staff officer sneered, threw the magazine on the bedside, and put his hands behind his head.

"Don't ask. There will be a second round tomorrow."

The clerk turned over in the quilt and faced the wall without making a sound.

His shoulders were still shaking slightly.

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