The last room on the third floor is a movie-related exhibition hall.
There are many movie-related items on display, such as storyboard drawings, movie costumes and props, movie posters and photos, books and magazines, movie tickets, etc.
Screenwriter Xu was fascinated and leaned over the glass cabinet to admire: "There are quite a lot of things here."
Kang Mucheng didn't respond, just threw his coat on the display case, rolled up his shirt sleeves, moved the display case, and tried to find a way out. The result was not surprising - nothing.
He couldn't help but ponder: "Impossible, there should be."
"What?" Jian Jing was curious.
"The third floor of the villa was originally a bedroom and study. If the darkroom from the past is really preserved, it is most likely to be on this floor." Kang Mucheng was not as good as Jian Jing in deciphering codes, but he reacted quickly. He quickly thought of Mrs. Qin's previous introduction and made a bold guess and reasonable suspicion. "I haven't found the cinema or the toilet yet. I think it should be here."
Screenwriter Xu immediately got excited: "Yes, the secret room must be built in a place where the servants don't go very often. Otherwise, they have to go back and forth so many times. What if they are discovered? The bedroom and study are the most secretive."
He rubbed his hands together and touched the exhibits one by one, twisting and shaking them to see if there were any mechanisms.
But Jian Jing didn't think it was that simple.
From the password of the toilet to the hidden key of the private cinema, there is a strong sense of puzzle solving. It may be feasible to try your luck and find the mechanism, but finding the mechanism is not the same as being able to break it.
But she had no other idea and just followed them to look.
Half an hour later, the three of them gathered in front of an old TV.
Screenwriter Xu proudly explained: "All the exhibits have their origins. This electric fan, for example, could have been used in any Republican movie, but it's not from any movie - it's the real thing."
The movies in the movies were mostly props, representing the era at that time, and they were made very new. But this old movie was the only one that had traces of time on its surface.
A real antique TV.
"Look, there's an English word here, yh." Screenwriter Xu pointed to the inside of the tube, "It's definitely the abbreviation of Yuhui."
He was extremely sure: "This is the mechanism."
Jian Jing: "Hmm..."
Kang Mucheng asked directly: "What's the matter?"
Screenwriter Xu smiled awkwardly: "It's a phone call, maybe you need to dial, and you can get it if the number matches."
Number
Jian Jing's heart moved, and she took a notebook that was casually placed on the display case and said, "Here are some newspaper clippings, and there are a few numbers written on the newspaper."
"The New York Times from the last century, oh, it's full of film reviews." Screenwriter Xu is a film director, so he inevitably has some occupational diseases. "It's a good thing that Mr. Qin was able to collect them. I'm afraid he put a lot of effort into it."
He felt a little itchy and wanted to flip through the magazine carefully, but he controlled himself and focused on checking the numbers in the newspaper.
The clippings were thick, and every few pages there was a string of handwritten numbers. The handwriting seemed to be from the same author, and the ink was neither new nor old. There were seven sets in total, and some were altered.
Roughly as follows (# and ≡ represent smear):
01#022#3333#517141#35690
111121133114641
78680#987512
01123581321
689#014≡≡≡947824
#098≡≡≡1528#
≡≡≡68294
The air was deathly silent.
The numbers don’t look like numbers, the sequence doesn’t look like a sequence, what the hell is this
Editor Guo and CEO Qin left the small storage room and entered the back kitchen passage. The short ten-meter corridor connected two doors, one leading to the back kitchen and the other leading to the coffee shop.
They were both guilty and afraid of being discovered, so of course they wanted to go back to the café immediately.
Once back in public, you can say you had an accident while drinking coffee and that's how you got stuck.
However, the door to the cafe was locked, and no matter how hard they looked, they couldn't find the key.
There was no light, no dinner, and the environment was dark and closed. All these factors made my emotions much more fragile than usual.
After working in vain for an hour, President Qin could no longer keep his usual gentle and polite mask on and cursed: "What the hell is going on? Why hasn't the circuit been fixed yet? What time is it?"
"I checked the weather forecast before I went out, and it said there would be heavy to torrential rain tonight." No wonder women are said to be more able to withstand rain than men. Editor Guo remained calm, "Maybe the maintenance team didn't make it in time."
President Qin cursed a few dirty words: "Are we really going to be locked up here all night?"
"You and I have spent more nights than this one." Guo was extremely tired. He took a chair out from the storage room and sat down, crossing his smooth legs in a nice posture. "Take a break."
President Qin sneered in his heart. He could see that this woman was eager for their relationship to be exposed so that she could move from underground to the stage in a natural way.
Girl, girl!
But he didn't want her to get what she wanted. As for men, even if they keep saying they want a divorce, those who really want a divorce won't look for a mistress. Only those who don't want to divorce will look for a mistress.
Liu Baofeng has a lot of shortcomings, but she is a genuine first-class architect. I wonder how many connections she can make. How can Guo Xiaobian compare to her? He just wants to keep her hanging for fun. After all, a mature and charming woman is delivered to his door, so he would be wasted if he didn't take advantage of her.
He would not do anything that would put him in a difficult position.
Mr. Qin was thinking as he paced back and forth in the corridor. When he was halfway there, he suddenly saw the electric meter box next to him and lifted the cover to take a closer look.
In addition to the power switch button, there is also a red button on the electric meter that says "Emergency Help".
He was overjoyed and pressed the button without thinking.
The ceiling above his head suddenly opened, and a dark cloud descended. He jumped in fright, and his phone swung past, and under the circle of light, a dense wire mesh fell down, covering him tightly.
He instinctively pulled it away, but was shocked by the electric current. He threw his hand away violently: "Damn it!"
"What's going on?" Editor Guo looked over in surprise.
"Help me fix this thing." He looked gloomy.
Editor Guo just remembered that she smelled a pungent smell, which made her cry: "Ahem, ugh, why are you using tear gas... I can't help you."
As she spoke, she quickly hid in the storage room and closed the door tightly.
"Bitch." President Qin was furious, but he couldn't break free at the moment and was trapped tightly by the wire mesh. The unpleasant smell kept drilling into his nostrils, and his nasal cavity and trachea felt hot and spicy, as if he had been choked by countless chili peppers.
What bad luck! Baofeng didn't know what she was thinking. If we were to use gas here, who would come to the kitchen to steal things? Was it really that exaggerated? Mr. Qin complained about his wife's design in his heart, and his head gradually became dizzy.
I can't let him see me and Guo... This was the last thought in his mind.
Then, darkness came and he lost all consciousness.
Behind the door, Editor Guo glanced at his Cartier watch and realized that only five minutes had passed.
She certainly didn't want anything to happen to Mr. Qin. If something happened to him, all the energy and time she invested in him would be wasted, and her ambition to enter the upper class society through marriage would be a complete failure.
You know, men these days are very shrewd. At most they will spend some money on hotels and meals, and if they can give you a brand-name bag, it means they respect you very much. There are also some who will use fake goods to fool you.
However, she actually didn't care about Hermès. She could buy a bag worth hundreds of thousands of yuan. What Guo Lin wanted was just a stepping stone, a ticket to enter the upper class.
This was something she could not achieve by working as an editor. As an editor, an annual salary of one million was the best she could get, and there was no room for promotion. She was not like Kang Mucheng, for whom being an editor was just a formality and he would eventually become a boss.
It's time to go out and help. Mr. Qin pretends to be generous and amiable in front of others, but he is actually very narrow-minded. If you go too slowly, he might hold a grudge against you.
But for some reason, even though my brain ordered the door to open, my hands wouldn't move.
A very subtle, almost intuitive sense of crisis enveloped her heart.
The body follows instinct rather than rational analysis and takes action without hesitation.
Editor Guo struggled and hesitated for about ten minutes before he put on a smile and cautiously pushed the door open.
The smoke in the corridor had not yet dissipated. President Qin was lying under the electric meter box, motionless.
"Honey." Editor Guo held his breath and pretended to lean over and push him.
Still no response.
Did he faint? His brain was thinking this, but his fingers somehow reached under his nose to try.
No gas
Editor Guo was so frightened that he covered his mouth with his hands and fell to the ground.
A few seconds later, she seemed to realize something, staggered to her feet, rushed back to the storage room, slammed the door shut, and propped it against her back.
Oh my god, damn.
He is dead!
51361, I'm going to kill you.
Who, who wants to kill him
Guo Xinbian was so frightened that his heart and liver were about to burst. He could not even stand on his legs and fell limply to the ground.
On the third floor, Jian Jing, who knew nothing about the ground floor, was still studying numbers.
01#022#3333#517141#35690
111121133114641
78680#987512
01123581321
689#014≡≡≡947824
#098≡≡≡1528#
≡≡≡68294
What does this string of numbers mean
"This 111 is Pascal's triangle." The college student, who had just taken an advanced math class, still had an impression of it. He pointed to the fourth row of numbers and said, "This is a sequence. The sum of the first two equals the last number."
"What about the rest?" Screenwriter Xu is not good at math and his eyes are filled with dismay.
"I can't tell." Jian Jing was also very distressed. "It doesn't look like a number series, there is no pattern, and it's not the strokes of the nine-square grid just now..."
She went through several password types that she was familiar with in her mind, but none of them were correct.
Is this a mistake? Is the clue wrong
Jian Jing's confidence hit rock bottom. She took out another poster album and looked through it. Inside it were movie tickets from the past, with numbers and English words on them.
She tried tandem.
Brain response: %￥… *#￥%
"Jingjing," Kang Mucheng's steady voice came from the mess, "Is this Morse code?"
Jian Jing: "Where?"
Kang Mucheng held the book away and said, "Don't look at the numbers, look at the alterations on it, are they dots and lines?" He was very sensitive to money, but not to numbers. He would give up after just a quick look. Who would have thought that when he walked a few steps away and looked back at a certain moment, the numbers in his sight were all blurred, which in turn highlighted the alterations on it.
The Morse code was mentioned in the movie White Cat Detective. When the woman responded to the police, she typed the code of "cat". He was an editor at that time and was very impressed. He was sure that "·-" and "-" were a and t.
Among these groups of alterations, two are consistent.
"Ah!" Jian Jing was suddenly enlightened by what he said. She paid too much attention to numbers and ignored the rules beyond numbers. In fact, the two number series were just a trick. "Yes, it's Morse code."
As a mystery novelist, even without a password card, you can memorize this classic code.
She translated in real time:
····is h
· Yes
- is a
·-· is r
-It is
Put together, we get the word heart.
"The English word converted into numbers is 8511820." Jian Jing gave the answer, "Try this."
She picked up the phone excitedly and dialed the number.
Kang Mucheng and screenwriter Xu also gathered around.
Click, click, the old-fashioned turntable made a slightly dry sound.