Chapter 295: The Plot Doesn’t Add Up

In the interrogation room, Xiao Yu quietly observed the man in front of him.

Fang Shuoxin, 31 years old, a native of F City, an online novelist and an orphan.

At three years old, Fang Shuoxin had been found outside a welfare institution and was later taken in. Fortunately, Fang Shuoxin was adopted at six years old. But by the time he turned seventeen, his adoptive parents passed away in a car accident. After that, Fang Shuoxin lived alone, never attending university, up until now.

A life full of hardship.

Everyone knows that orphans in novels are rarely simple, but this wasn’t a novel—it was reality.

And in reality, Fang Shuoxin’s life was undeniably miserable. It was as if fate was deliberately toying with him.

According to the investigation by State Security, in recent years, Fang Shuoxin had been making a living as a writer.

Of course, it didn’t seem to be very successful.

He had been working in online literature for four years. In good months, he earned a few thousand yuan. In bad months, just a few hundred.

At least it was enough to keep him fed and avoid starvation.

Fang Shuoxin rarely left the house.

First, his financial situation didn’t allow for it. Second, he had no friends. And third, he didn’t even have a girlfriend. He was a quintessential bachelor.

What was the point of going out?

He was a man so reclusive it was almost earth-shattering. He only ventured outside once every ten or fifteen days. And yet this person had written a bizarre novel. 

Wasn’t that hard to believe?

Even the State Security personnel were baffled by such a novelist.

And now, so was Xiao Yu.

“Where do you get the inspiration and ideas for your work? Could you elaborate on that a bit?”

Xiao Yu stared at Fang Shuoxin, looking directly into his eyes.

“Ah?”

Appearing flustered, Fang Shuoxin hesitated before replying softly, “My inspiration… maybe it’s because I used to dream of becoming a spy. I thought I’d write about that dream, turn my imagined spy into words.”

“I see. So your writing is based on your own aspirations?” Xiao Yu nodded. “Everyone has dreams. But how do you go about creating specific scenarios? Spy fiction requires a high degree of logical precision and detailed research, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Hearing Xiao Yu’s words, Fang Shuoxin’s eyes lit up, as if he’d found a kindred spirit. 

He spoke quickly, “Writing novels is inherently complicated. Lots of brainstorming, logic, and creativity. I’ve read a lot of books about spies before, and they gave me some inspiration. I also spend time every day researching spy-related materials and then translating those ideas into words.”

“Your protagonist is lively and engaging.” As he said this, Xiao Yu felt a bit insincere. “When you create characters, do you base them on people you know in real life?”

“Well…”

Fang Shuoxin’s face showed some embarrassment. “When it comes to characters, I guess I’m the goofy type. I often project parts of myself into the story. Maybe it’s because of my past writing style, which leaned toward humor. As for technique… I don’t really have any. I just write whatever comes to mind. Sometimes I draw inspiration from funny videos or skits I’ve seen and fit well into my stories.”

Xiao Yu almost laughed.

‘What you’ve written doesn’t seem as good as you think,’ he thought to himself. ‘But, the protagonist is based on himself?’

With that in mind, Xiao Yu squinted and scrutinized him closely.

Six feet tall, thin, shy, ordinary, and hesitant when speaking outside of his writing.

No wonder his writing wasn’t successful. This image didn’t fit the ideal spy from any novel.

But if it was reality… 

Xiao Yu narrowed his eyes.

“One question, when you were seventeen and your adoptive parents died in a car accident, you didn’t return home for a year. Can you tell me where you went during that time?”

“I was heartbroken.” Perhaps recalling his adoptive parents, Fang Shuoxin’s face turned sorrowful. “I wandered across the country for a year before returning home. After that, I never really traveled far again.”

“Do you have any friends?” Xiao Yu pressed further.

“No.” Fang Shuoxin shook his head. “I don’t have friends in real life or online.”

Xiao Yu’s mind was in turmoil as if a thousand alpacas were galloping through it.

He wasn’t lying. Every answer just now had been truthful. There were signs of deception.

Could this really be a supernatural event?

Was that even possible?

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Xiao Yu asked casually.

“Well…”

Fang Shuo Xin’s face turned slightly red.

Xiao Yu smirked faintly. He understood what Fang Shuo Xin was feeling.

It was like when someone asks to use your computer—even if it’s a friend or relative, there’s always some hesitation. After all, who doesn’t have a few hundred gigabytes of “precious files”? For any normal young man, there’s always some “goddess” occupying a corner of his heart.

“I wouldn’t call it a relationship.” Fang Shuo Xin laughed awkwardly. “Back in high school, I liked a girl and even confessed to her. But after my adoptive parents passed away, I dropped out and never contacted her again.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Xiao Yu stood up and walked out of the interrogation room.

Outside, all eyes turned to him instantly. The looks they gave him resembled those of desperate tanks spotting a healer in a video game. Like a low-health game character scrambling to safety, only to see another character’s chain of salvation.

Wang Dong’s gaze was the most obvious of all, silently pleading: You’ve got a solution, right, little brother?

“It’s not him.” Xiao Yu shook his head. “I can even tell that these cases have nothing to do with him. He doesn’t seem to know the suspected operative at all.”

The crowd, “…”

So, calling in Xiao Yu didn’t lead to any breakthroughs either?

“But…” A strange glint flashed in Xiao Yu’s eyes. “I’ve noticed something interesting.”

In an instant, the crowd’s dejected expressions lit up with hope. Like the first victim falling into a pit, only to be joined by another unlucky soul.

Xiao Yu rolled his eyes. He really didn’t like the way these State Security folks looked at him.

“What is it?” Wang Dong asked eagerly.

“The plot of that novel doesn’t add up,” Xiao Yu said.