Letters to Romeo. - Chapter 245 - Raising Suspicion

A mysterious car accident caused her to be bedridden for three years.

After Ning Qing woke up, she learned two things.

One was that her elder twin sister had died in a car accident three years ago.

The other was that she had already married someone.

Her husband was Nian Lie, the eldest son of the Yan family who owned the biggest conglomerate in Yan City.

He treated her as a substitute for her elder sister. While he put her through torture, he would tell her that he loved her with reddened eyes.

Initially, Ning Qing wanted to divorce him, but later on, she indulged in his ambiguous love.

Until she stood outside the wedding venue where he was about to marry another woman.

Her heart was dead. Nothing was worth holding back anymore.

She wanted to escape, but she was unwilling to let him live the rest of his life peacefully.

Hence, under the reporters’ flashing lights, she stepped onto the bridge and jumped off with her nearly due baby…

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT]

Reminiscent of no mere illusion within a world of urban supernatural abilities, the art of magic herein is one of rigorous objectivity and precision!The Magician's Code:1. Unwavering belief in science2. Never perform magic in front of muggles3. Never break the magician personaRemember, if someone asks, tell them it's sleight of hand, that magic is surely a farce, a complete farce!One day, Jiang Shu discovers he can gain corresponding supernatural abilities through his magic performances. Thus, on stage, he believes in science, but off stage, he strikes with mighty blows.Simple magic tricks, solving minor mysteries, this is the ordinary day-to-day life of an average magician in a cyberpunk world.(This cyberpunk setting has no direct connection with any game and doesn't present any barriers to reading)(This story includes logical reasoning, magical detective work, magic analysis, and a light-hearted everyday routine, all of which will be featured.)

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

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