Hey! The Criminal Assistance System Can Even Be Used Like This? 158

Xu Zhizhi realized that she was not overly suspicious, but she began to wonder just who it could be. After considering various possibilities, she found that she didn’t have anyone to suspect.

Initially, she thought of suspecting Qiu Xu, after all, he was aware of the Thief King’s situation. But then again, he had almost been injured by the falling gg sign. Zhang Yan had mentioned that Qiu Xu had narrowly missed being hit by a fallen gg sign. The gg sign had dropped just four or five centimeters away from Qiu Xu, and Zhang Yan even speculated that Qiu Xu might have fallen ill out of shock.

Indeed, Qiu Xu had been hospitalized, and Xu Zhizhi could see that his frail appearance was a clear sign of someone who was genuinely unwell, not merely pretending. Thus, she quickly ruled him out, and then Zhang Yan, as he also didn’t seem suspicious. The last possibility was the stagehand, but she couldn’t understand why the stagehand would do something like that.

Had he been bribed? But who would spend such a significant amount just to bribe a stagehand to do such things? One slip-up could cost lives. Zhang Yan was quite generous, paying good wages, and even if they were greedy, they wouldn’t dare link money to someone’s life. If they accidentally killed Qiu Xu, not only would they go to prison, but they would also face social death. It would take at least one to two hundred thousand yuan, and the stagehand would have to be extremely desperate for money to agree to it.

Xu Zhizhi mainly suspected the stagehand, but she didn’t know just how many stagehands had been bought off. She leaned against the soft armrest of the sofa, her face filled with confusion.

Qin Su looked at Xu Zhizhi, now half-reclined on the sofa, and asked, “So you have a suspect, but no way to prove it?”

“Yes, the people I know in the crew are all tied to the crew’s interests. The stagehand is indeed suspicious, but I can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t that simple…” Xu Zhizhi sighed lightly.

Qin Su stared at Xu Zhizhi, “It’s simple, just investigate yourself. Lastly, a reminder: your criminal instincts are quite sharp, sometimes you should trust your own intuition.”

“Alright,” Xu Zhizhi straightened up, resolutely agreeing. If she was uncertain, then she would investigate!

She smiled at Qin Su, “Captain Qin, you’re so great! A life coach!”

Unfortunately, he seemed too much like a straight man to notice that she liked this so much. Xu Zhizhi felt quite regretful and sighed internally. She was completely unaware that both relationships and careers were things one had to actively pursue, not something to be acted out passively.

“It’s good that you’re fine, try to be less down. Haven’t you already achieved your goals? Relax and take it easy. As long as you’re filming, things will keep coming up. Don’t let it bother you, face it calmly, and everything will be alright.” Qin Su got up, tidied up a bit, and took out the trash before leaving.

Xu Zhizhi watched him leave, coming back to herself only when the door closed. She stood up from the sofa, went to brush her teeth, wash her face, and do her skincare routine, then obediently went to sleep to greet the challenges of the next day.

When she woke up again, it was already nine in the morning. She just wanted to burrow under the covers and sleep, all the ambitions she had the night before had vanished. At that moment, she respected Qin Su even more. To uphold one’s beliefs for so many years was an incredible display of resilience.

For someone like her, a lazy fish, doing anything required a lot of mental preparation. Ultimately, she had to scramble to meet her predefined goals. Except for making money. This was different, because it could solve 99% of her troubles.

After struggling to get up, Xu Zhizhi called Feng Jie, and the two went to the set. Earlier, she had seen in the group chat that Zhang Yan was gathering people to start picking up equipment and dismantling the shooting scenes.

She took Feng Jie to have another look at the site. Feng Jie initially thought Xu Zhizhi’s enthusiasm for saving the crew was a bit juvenile, but considering Xu Zhizhi’s character—being someone who likes to seek thrills and find stories herself—she would naturally come running at the scent of a good mystery.

When Xu Zhizhi was ready, the super fit person who had gotten up at six-thirty in the morning had already arrived at her door, bringing along the breakfast Xu Zhizhi needed. Xu Zhizhi had pancakes, which Feng Jie usually picked up for her after her morning runs.

Feng Jie’s rented place was not far, and she had driven over with the still-warm food. She was a free-spirited single woman, and her monthly salary had now risen to 23,000 yuan, which was enough for her to live on and save up to buy a house in a place she liked and eventually retire. Her mental state was far ahead of Xu Zhizhi’s.

Initially, Xu Zhizhi had been the one dragging Feng Jie out the door, but within half an hour, it became Feng Jie who was urging Xu Zhizhi to leave. However, they needed a reason to go to the set. Xu Zhizhi thought about it and told Zhang Yan that it wasn’t suitable to go public now, so they would pretend for a bit; that way, she could also assure the reporters that everything in their crew was fine.

Zhang Yan thought it made sense and expressed he also wanted to return; after all, it was a film he had been preparing for quite a while, and he would feel very regretful if it ended like this.

Xu Zhizhi was actually quite curious to verify if things wouldn’t fall apart after Zhang Yan announced he wouldn’t continue filming, to confirm if there was indeed someone behind the scenes working to prevent the movie from proceeding. But thinking about the commotion caused by that person, Xu Zhizhi dropped the idea. If someone got hurt, she would feel guilty beyond measure.

By the time Xu Zhizhi arrived at the set, people were just beginning to get to work. There wasn’t much to do; everyone was packing up the filming equipment and dismantling the set. The assistant director sat on an Apple box in the studio, watching the crew members bustling around, yet he remained inactive, even though he should have been contacting others to return some rented equipment and terminate the lease.

After handling those matters, his remaining task for the day was to communicate with the actors’ agencies about contract termination. With Zhang Yan currently in an accident, both he and the other assistant director were responsible for these duties. Yet both sat silently, watching the busy scene without making a move.

Preparing a movie project takes a long time, from the script to casting, filming, and locations. Since the beginning of this movie, everyone had high expectations. No one expected everything would vanish in the wake of various unexpected incidents within such a short span of time.

The two understood Zhang Yan’s perspective; he was also fearful that this situation might spread, and if something truly went awry, it would be terrible. In horror films, a common trope is characters who stubbornly pursue death in defiance of warnings. As a normal adult, making such decisions was completely reasonable.

Because it was so rational, they found it particularly hard to accept.

Xu Zhizhi’s arrival attracted quite a bit of attention from those at the set, and many greeted her. The young actors and extras called her Teacher Xu, while those from the crew called her Xu Zhizhi or Sister Xu.

The two assistant directors regained their senses, stood up, and looked at Xu Zhizhi, “What brings you here, Zhizhi?”

Both were in their forties and figured it felt awkward to refer to her by her full name, so they simply called her Zhizhi after the director.

“I talked to the director and wanted to see the situation, to quiet the reporters,” Xu Zhizhi smiled at the two, explaining her purpose.

They nodded, and one of them said, “Feel free to look around and sit a while. Just go rest when you’re done! Everyone has been tired these past few days.”

Feeling anxious every day, unsure of what unexpected happenings would occur, no one had really been able to rest well. Now that there was no filming, it was natural to relax.

Xu Zhizhi nodded and left with Feng Jie. Feng Jie stuck close to Xu Zhizhi, a bit afraid there might be some other accident waiting to happen.

Some people were dismantling and moving equipment, but overall, things were left intact, fearing that anything picked up might catch a reporter’s attention.

Xu Zhizhi’s first stop was the gg sign. From the filming perspective, it was welded onto the right side of the shooting area, with the blue and red fabric displaying brand sponsorship, and it was a two-meter by two-meter sign made of welded steel structure.

There were two signs in total, one inside the bus stop, and one that was three meters off the ground. It hung above the pedestrian crosswalk, supported by pillars below. If someone went up onto the overpass, the closest view of the gg sign was just one meter away.

Xu Zhizhi had only taken a cursory glance before, but now she intended to inspect it closely. However, if she suspected the stagehands, she couldn’t let them notice her observing.

After thinking it through, Xu Zhizhi decided to wait for Zhang Yan to arrive, letting him bring people to the other side of the filming area to discuss the feelings and reasons behind the disbanding.

In public, they naturally had to give a polished appearance, while she could diligently observe without being discovered.

Xu Zhizhi didn’t say this directly. Instead, when Zhang Yan came, she urged him to say a few words to provide closure.

After pondering, Zhang Yan felt that a V-Chat notice was indeed insufficiently formal and decided to follow Xu Zhizhi’s suggestion to explain a bit.

This would serve as an explanation for himself and the movie project. The plan went smoothly, and the entire crew was gathered in the equipment room, which was actually just a warehouse.

Xu Zhizhi pretended to go to the bathroom, but after everyone left, she directly skipped the equipment room and hurried to the gg sign. She dashed up to the overpass, and once there, she looked around, her gaze landing on the gg sign just a meter away.

After observing for a while, she found nothing unusual. Xu Zhizhi’s eyes shifted upwards to the overpass railing, and Feng Jie noticed Xu Zhizhi’s gaze and quickly said, “No way!”

Xu Zhizhi reached out to grab her, “You will help me; I believe in your strength.”

Feng Jie looked at the iron railing above, then back at Xu Zhizhi.

“I’ll go up,” she said.

Xu Zhizhi’s thoughts were directly focused on inspecting the gg sign up close. If she could get a close look, she could check the possible issues with it.

Feng Jie didn’t dare to let Xu Zhizhi go; what if something happened to her? She was strong and athletic; it would be more appropriate for Feng Jie to go instead.

Xu Zhizhi shook her head, “I’m more suited to do it; I weigh less, and you can hold me.” She pat Feng Jie’s shoulder, “I trust you; you’re the only one who can protect me from falling. I can’t do it alone; you know how weak I am.”

With that, Xu Zhizhi decisively turned to find the safety harness that had been hidden by a stagehand. This was for actors using wires, very reliable for safety.

Then she found a suitable rope, quickly donned it, secured it, and tied it to the iron railing. This was her last safeguard; if Feng Jie couldn’t hold on, Xu Zhizhi wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Let go!” Xu Zhizhi climbed over the railing, talking to Feng Jie who was holding the rope.

Feng Jie’s expression was tense as she carefully lowered the rope. Xu Zhizhi steadied her body slowly as she was being lowered, and as she was about to reach, she reached out to grab the edge of the gg sign to stabilize herself.

Feng Jie halted, and Xu Zhizhi began to inspect the condition of the gg sign.

Since the gg sign was a disposable item, it would be taken down after filming was completed. The reason it hadn’t been dismantled yet was that Qiu Xu hadn’t finished his scenes due to the scare; he would come back to finish them, and then it would be removed.

Since it had been announced that filming for the movie was halted, this gg sign would also be taken down. This meant that this was Xu Zhizhi’s last chance to check.

She reached out to touch it, her brow furrowing.

Because it wasn’t welded; generally, it should be welded, was it made this way for easier dismantling later?

That did seem plausible. Xu Zhizhi peeled back a small section at the top, looking inside.

The entire lightweight steel frame appeared before Xu Zhizhi, and with the weather clear and the sun shining down, she could see clearly into all its inner structures below.

Xu Zhizhi looked around, reaching through the steel frame’s gaps to touch the nearest spot to her.

They had welded iron hooks to the steel frame structure, totaling about ten of them. The places the hooks were welded were very solid against the iron structure of the overpass.

The hooks were large, and from Xu Zhizhi’s observation, unless it were a typhoon, they wouldn’t blow away.

Most importantly, Beijing City wasn’t coastal and didn’t have typhoon weather. So why did it fall? Was there really some metaphysical power that lifted it and let the gg sign drop?

Xu Zhizhi thought her speculations were quite penetrating; she reached out to grasp the hook and shook it vigorously.

The gg sign didn’t even budge, and Xu Zhizhi prepared to pull back her hand.

Though Feng Jie was strong, she had been supporting her for too long, and if something went wrong, that would be problematic.

Just as Xu Zhizhi was about to pull her hand back, her delicate fingers brushed against the bottom of the iron hook.

The iron hook was smooth because it hadn’t been long since it was installed, and there hadn’t been any rain to cause corrosion.

However, Xu Zhizhi felt an inconsistent texture.

It felt like touching the seam of an old wooden desk, as if one of the iron hooks was made of two joined parts.

Xu Zhizhi extended her hand again to touch the bottom of the iron hook.

Before she could confirm anything, Feng Jie hurriedly called out, “It sounds like they’re about to finish; I’ll lower you down!”

“Okay!” Xu Zhizhi quickly replied, trying to avoid alarming anyone.

Feng Jie’s descent was very steady, and as they neared the ground, she untied the prepared quick-release knot to let Xu Zhizhi down.

At this moment, footsteps were already heard approaching from the other side.

Xu Zhizhi looked up, signaling for Feng Jie to throw down the remaining rope.

She quickly undid her safety attachments and hastily tucked the rope behind her back.

A moment later, a group of people came around the corner, and Xu Zhizhi preemptively asked, “Is it over?”

The leader was the stagehand in charge, a robust man close to one meter eighty tall.

He glanced at Xu Zhizhi and nodded.

“It’s over, but Director Zhang asked us to take our time with the cleanup. Once Qiu Xu is discharged, we’ll have a meal together.” He looked up at the gg sign, his gaze falling on Xu Zhizhi, his voice sounding quite normal as he spoke.

Xu Zhizhi nodded, looking up at the gg sign, becoming startled as she stood directly beneath it, moving a few steps sideways, “When you’re packing this up later, remember to take down the gg sign; it’s quite frightening when passing under it.”

Xu Zhizhi raised one hand to her forehead, gripping the thin rope tightly with the other, adopting a stance as if she were hands on hips.

The other party watched Xu Zhizhi’s demeanor and stepped forward towards her.

“Where’s Director Zhang? I’ll go look for him! Is he still in the equipment room?” Xu Zhizhi’s sentence structure became somewhat jumbled.

Fortunately, the other person didn’t quite understand Xu Zhizhi’s confusion. He stepped forward to take a look at the gg sign and then glanced at Xu Zhizhi, “He’s in the equipment room.”

Then he looked at Xu Zhizhi with curiosity, since he was only a few centimeters taller, and with the spring coat on, he couldn’t quite see what Xu Zhizhi had concealed behind her.

He moved closer, intending to look behind Xu Zhizhi.

Xu Zhizhi looked at him and placed her other hand to her head, patting it as she groaned slightly, “Ugh, I’m feeling a bit dizzy; it seems like my concussion hasn’t fully healed. I’m going to talk to Director Zhang and head back to check at the hospital. You guys go on with your business; you’ve worked hard.”

“Alright…” The other party chuckled, nodded, and stepped aside.

Xu Zhizhi watched him leave, reaching into her bag to tuck the nylon rope and the other black safety strap deeper.

She looked up at Feng Jie, who was hidden in a small gap by the overpass railing and gave her a thumbs-up.

Indicating Feng Jie to find a chance to come down, she then focused her gaze back on the stagehand.

The recent behavior from that person seemed full of suspicion, as if he was guarding against her. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to conduct a sweeping investigation; otherwise, it would have raised unnecessary alarms.

Xu Zhizhi returned the rope and safety strap; she just needed to sneak past these stagehands. With her stealth skills, nobody would notice her.

This trip had been quite rewarding; she confirmed her suspicions and identified who exactly was behind the small-scale sabotage.

What to do next, Xu Zhizhi decided to plan further. She needed to think about just how the other party manipulated the hooks.

After consideration, Xu Zhizhi felt that it should be remote-controlled.

Once the bottom of the hook was activated remotely, it would lose its power immediately, thus causing the gg sign to drop.

From below, all the attachments had been well welded; unless handled, there would be no issues. Aside from the stagehands, no one else in the crew would touch it.

Thus, nobody suspected it was due to the stagehands; they only thought it was supernatural mischief.

Xu Zhizhi pretended to search for Zhang Yan while moving around the crew.

She wanted to determine, since it was remote-controlled, who exactly the remote manipulator was. If she could find the remote, that would be even better.

The eyes of a thief always survey the crowd, allowing her to identify who her target really was.

The stealing skill from the system let Xu Zhizhi quickly become the top thief.

Her eyes could quickly zero in on what she was looking for, and finally, after scanning, she focused on someone who had spoken to her earlier.

He hadn’t heeded Xu Zhizhi’s advice to start dismantling the gg sign, and Xu Zhizhi guessed that he didn’t want to expose the hooks and was waiting for the opportunity to do it while only the two of them were present.

Directly pressing the remote would be much more economical than having several stagehands dismantle it.

Based on this guess, Xu Zhizhi firmly believed the remote control was likely in the hands of that stagehand leader.

After thinking it through, she decided to take the risk and passed by him to check.

Confirming the remote was on him, she had a rough idea of its condition.

After ensuring, Xu Zhizhi turned to find Zhang Yan.

As she had discussed with the stagehand, she told Zhang Yan that she had a headache and wanted to return to rest.

Worried, Zhang Yan didn’t dare to neglect her and escorted Xu Zhizhi out, looking very concerned.

Xu Zhizhi watched Zhang Yan see her off, a look of sympathy flashing in her eyes, then stated seriously, “Director Zhang, I’d like to verify something. Could you ask the crew to leave after 4 PM, leaving only the stagehands?”

She wanted to see if Zhang Yan would trust her.

Additionally, she wanted to gauge whether Zhang Yan was worth rescuing. She had inquired about the stagehands; they had accompanied Zhang Yan to shoot numerous films over the years.

She wouldn’t directly challenge that trust, but she wanted to know if Zhang Yan would trust her.

If she made a request and he was willing to act on it, it would signify that he trusted her and wasn’t an inflexible individual.

Otherwise, even if the truth came to light, Zhang Yan might insist on keeping those people around, perhaps just out of loyalty to protect them.

Then what she did would be meaningless, only serving to affirm her thoughts.

In any case, Xu Zhizhi wouldn’t overstep by revealing everything if she was to be blamed for it.

She looked at Zhang Yan, who was gazing curiously at her.

“Why?” he asked, puzzled, uncertain about Xu Zhizhi’s aim.

After a moment’s thought, Xu Zhizhi replied, “This concerns whether the crew can continue filming; you wouldn’t want to give up, would you? The only thing I want to do is to have you know; I want to fight for the last shred of possibility for the crew to continue filming.”

Passion can overcome everything, including superstition.

Zhang Yan was superstitious, but Xu Zhizhi felt he still held a glimmer of hope to keep filming.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed to the crew regardless of his injury the moment she mentioned it.

“…Alright,” Zhang Yan stared at Xu Zhizhi, recalling her reputation within the industry, then nodded his assent after a moment of thought.

Xu Zhizhi smiled lightly, “Great, then I’ll wait for you to arrange it. At 3 PM, we’ll arrive an hour early at that location.”

Xu Zhizhi pointed to the highest point in the film city where the crew was located; she had just observed that they could directly see the location of the gg sign from there.

Zhang Yan didn’t know what Xu Zhizhi was up to, but he nodded in agreement.

Xu Zhizhi waved goodbye to the director.

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