Asked you to write a book, not to confess your criminal record!

"Name."

"Lin Chuan."

"Age."

"24."

"Occupation."

"Novelist."

In the parallel world of Anling City, inside the interrogation room of the criminal investigation team, Lin Chuan faced the stern questioning of two police officers, feeling like he was sitting on pins and needles.

"Novelist, so you're a writer."

The lead interrogating female police officer, Shen Qianqian, had her hair tied back in a ponytail, neat and tidy, which highlighted her delicate features, her clear eyes steadily focusing on Lin Chuan.

Lin Chuan was surprised, "Is a novelist considered a writer?"

Shen Qianqian thought for a moment, "I suppose so."

Lin Chuan straightened up, sitting upright, as this was a recognition of some sort for a struggling writer.

Shen Qianqian asked, "Why were you summoned?"

Lin Chuan immediately shook his head and said, "I don't know."

That morning.

Lin Chuan was full of ambition, ready to write with gusto on his computer.

However, two police officers suddenly showed up at his door, "Lin Chuan, we suspect you have committed a serious crime. Come with us, please."

But Lin Chuan couldn't for the life of him understand, what could a serious novelist, who merely writes books, have done to commit a crime?

The only possibility was a text message he received last week: "Brother, are you home alone? For 200 Yuan, I can come over and help with your laundry."

But Lin Chuan was too thrifty to spend that 200 Yuan; after much thought, he ended up washing his clothes by hand.

Back in the interrogation room.

Shen Qianqian frowned and took out a photo, placing it in front of Lin Chuan, "Do you remember this place?"

The photo showed a bedroom in full view.

In the center was a soft, large bed with neatly folded bedding, on the side a wardrobe and vanity, the room lit brightly, exuding a clean and cozy atmosphere.

After examining the photo several times, Lin Chuan still shook his head, "I don't remember it."

Shen Qianqian exchanged a glance with the male officer taking notes beside her.

Then, Shen Qianqian took out another photo, "What about this one? Does it ring any bells?"

The photo was of a brown-black door, with room number 2001.

Lin Chuan shook his head again, "No impression."

However, the semiconductor fingerprint smart lock on the door, Lin Chuan recognized it at a glance.

It was a household fingerprint anti-theft electronic lock retailing for 1998 Yuan, equipped with a Grade C lock cylinder, very high in security.

Shen Qianqian fell silent.

The other officer also looked intently at Lin Chuan.

Suddenly, the interrogation room became quiet.

Feeling the gazes of the two officers on him, Lin Chuan felt uneasy, as if ants were crawling all over his body.

People who frequently visit the station know that the interrogation room is a relatively closed space, with cold walls, an oppressive and serious atmosphere, exerting an invisible pressure on the person inside.

Someone with a weaker mental fortitude might have already confessed to which adult films they had seen.

"Officers, may I ask, what crime did I commit?"

Lin Chuan asked, feeling anxious.

After a long silence, Shen Qianqian responded, "We strongly suspect that you are involved in a burglary."

Startled, Lin Chuan quickly became anxious, "Officer, you can't slander someone's innocence like this!"

Liu had at least eaten his bowl of noodles, but I haven't touched it!

"Slander someone's innocence?"

Shen Qianqian huffed, "Yesterday, that is, March 9, you published a novel, you remember, don't you?"

Lin Chuan was confused, "Writing novels isn't a crime, right?"

Shen Qianqian smiled, "In your novel, you clearly recorded the entire process of a perfect burglary in Jiangnan Residential Community."

Lin Chuan was shocked and immediately defended himself, "That is a fictional work, you can't just charge me with a crime based on that, can you?"

Shen Qianqian laughed, "Fictional?"

"As if I would really go out and steal?" Lin Chuan retorted, "I always abide by the law!"

"We suspect that this isn't fiction you've made up, but your diary!" Shen Qianqian's face changed suddenly, and she pressed the issue.

Lin Chuan was taken aback, "Who writes diaries if they're respectable?"

Shen Qianqian flipped through a stack of documents, "At 19:23 on March 8th, we received a report from the owner of house number 9-2-2001 in the Jiangnan Residential Community of Qingxiu District, that jewelry worth a hundred thousand yuan had vanished into thin air."

Lin Chuan hurriedly defended himself, "That's got nothing to do with me."

"Listen to me first."

Shen Qianqian stretched out her hand, signaling Lin Chuan to pause, "That night at 19:38, our criminal investigation team arrived at the scene to collect evidence and initially concluded that this was a nearly perfect burglary."

Lin Chuan was stunned, this case...

His expression did not escape Shen Qianqian's observation, "After comparing, the descriptions in your novel closely match the details of the case, almost eighty percent similar."

"What?"

Lin Chuan's eyes widened.

Complete nonsense, utter nonsense!

Shen Qianqian seemed confident, "In your novel, you described the lock on the door of room 2001 as follows: 'On the dark brown door, there was a smart fingerprint lock with a grade C lock core, very secure, but not difficult to open.'"

"Furthermore, you detailed the lock-picking process. Our criminal investigators easily opened this lock using the method described in your novel."

Hisss!

Lin Chuan himself took a sharp intake of breath, "Officer, if I say it's a coincidence, would you believe me?"

"A coincidence?"

Shen Qianqian laughed sarcastically instead of getting angry, "The bedroom scene in room 2001 was almost exactly the same as the detail in your novel, and you call that a coincidence?"

"Well, this..."

Lin Chuan hadn't recovered from the shock yet.

This was completely beyond his expectations.

Continuing to press with evidence, Shen Qianqian produced something else, "Additionally, we found this in your home."

As she spoke, a small black bag about the size of a palm was placed in front of Lin Chuan.

Lin Chuan's face changed, he knew very well what was inside.

These were professional lock-picking tools he had bought online, including pliers, screwdrivers, bump keys, and wires.

"How do you explain this?" Shen Qianqian asked.

Lin Chuan explained, "I recently learned lock-picking."

Shen Qianqian clearly didn't believe him, "Why would a novelist learn lock-picking?"

Lin Chuan was somewhat embarrassed, "Because... I'm broke."

Shen Qianqian frowned and muttered, "I thought authors made good money?"

Lin Chuan's straight spine almost bent under the weight of that remark.

Influent Authors are the real writers.

Failing authors are called scribblers.

How much can a failing scribbler earn?

Lin Chuan had no choice but to explain, "Comrade officer, I really don't make much money from writing novels, so..."

"So you took the risk and committed burglary?" Shen Qianqian's eyes sharpened.

Lin Chuan quickly waved his hands, protesting, "Absolutely not! I bought these lock-picking tools only to take up a side job for some extra income."

"However, we've checked your records, and you did not register it," Shen Qianqian stared at Lin Chuan.

Even part-time lock-picking needs to be registered with the station.

Lin Chuan showed a bitter expression, "I hadn't got around to registering yet when you came."

"Excuses!"

Shen Qianqian snorted coldly, "The stolen jewelry is worth a hundred thousand. Given the large amount involved, you could be sentenced from three to ten years of fixed-term imprisonment. If you confess, we can seek a lighter sentence or leniency for you."

"I really didn't commit any burglary, how can I confess?"

Lin Chuan cried injustice!

How could my novel match up with the case, with details eighty percent similar?

And now, I've become a suspect!