The strongest dream therapist

Chapter 37 Simulated Portrait
The two of them chatted back and forth, while Wang Fugui sat bored on the side, occasionally interjecting a word.

Fu Yuan frowned slightly most of the time, and Guo Yu guided her to think about the problem. It was also during this communication that he truly understood for the first time what Guo Yu meant by "reliable".

Although Wang Fugui is young, his observation skills are really sharp and his thinking is very quick.

"What I want to say is, if we put aside the idea that Wu Ping murdered her ex-husband, she told me that morning that he seemed like a completely different person, a completely different person."

Fu Yuan paused, his eyes revealing a certainty as he recalled, "Assuming what she said is right, the murderer must be in that place."

She stretched out her hand, pointing her finger at the video playing nearby. "When I was leaving the hotel, I met a man. He looked sick and was wearing a lot of clothes, just like the man in the video."

Guo Yu's slightly relaxed body tensed up instantly. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he asked anxiously, "Do you still remember what he looks like?"

As he said this, he asked a colleague who could draw to come and help with the investigation.

Fu Yuan lowered his head slightly, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes.

She nodded, then shook her head. "I'm not sure if they're the same person, but they both give me a similar feeling."

"It's okay." Guo Yu responded and called the portrait artist over.

The colleague was probably in his early thirties, tall and thin, wearing a police uniform, with a warm smile on his face, and he looked a bit like a people's artist.

He came in, called out "Captain Guo", set up the drawing board, picked up an HB pencil, and looked at Fu Yuan gently.

Fu Yuan felt strangely nervous as he was stared at so intently, and could only begin to describe him dryly, "About 1.73m or 1.74m tall... He was wearing a lot of clothes, and I'm not sure if he was fat or thin, but his face looked rather haggard."

"Don't be nervous." The portrait artist looked away, sketched a few strokes on the paper, and asked a guiding question: "Think carefully, what is the suspect's face shape like? Is it round or angular?"

Fu Yuan said: "Pointy face, with the right cheek a little bigger."

The portrait artist sketched a rough outline. Fu Yuan leaned over, took a few glances, and said, "The face should be a little wider, and the facial features should be more general."

He wiped it again and re-painted it, then continued to ask, "What do his eyes look like?"

Fu Yuan: "He has single eyelids, his eyes are pointed downwards, and his eyes are fierce, as if someone owes him eight million."

He nodded, indicating that he understood, and continued to ask: "What about eyebrows? Willow-shaped eyebrows, sword-shaped eyebrows, or thick eyebrows?"

Fu Yuan said, "Thick eyebrows... well, the distance between them is relatively short."

"..."

After some inquiries, the portrait artist sketched a man with thick eyebrows, small eyes, a hooked nose, and thin lips. "Is this okay?"

Fu Yuan nodded, raised his right hand, pointed to his wrist with his left hand, and added, "There is a vermilion mole on the inside of his right wrist."

The artist added a few more strokes. Originally, only the face was clearly identifiable, with the figure rather hazy. With these few strokes, the man's hands also became clear.

Fu Yuan looked at him and saw that he had drawn a person that was 90% similar based on her description alone, and she couldn't help but feel a little admiration in her heart.

She also taught herself to paint for a period of time. Every time she put pen to paper, she knew exactly what effect she wanted to achieve, but the brush just wouldn't obey her, either too thick or too thin.

I can only say that I can barely recognize what was drawn.

"No, this can't be his real face." Guo Yu, who had been working in criminal investigation for several years, noticed the incongruity immediately. The portrait artist looked at the painting and nodded in agreement, "Indeed."

As he spoke, he opened a new page and began to trace on the paper. After about ten minutes, he picked up the paper and handed it to Guo Yu. "I made some minor adjustments, and it looks more coordinated."

Fu Yuan also looked over. The man in the portrait looked very ordinary, about 60% similar to the previous portrait. He had an ordinary face and no one would look at him a second time if he was thrown into a crowd.

"He originally looked like this?" Fu Yuan was a little confused.

The portrait artist began to collect his sketchpad and explained with a smile, "I am only reconstructing and speculating based on your description. It may not be accurate."

Guo Yu walked up to him, patted his shoulder, and said, "I'll have someone check it out. I trust you very much regarding the portrait."

Wang Fugui, who was listening to the sidelines, had long been impatient. He curled his lips and shouted, "When are we going to eat? I'm starving."

After being interrupted by him, the three of them felt a little hungry. Fu Yuan looked at his phone and it was exactly 13:10.

"Are there any taboos?"

Guo Yu brought a few people into the police car, and the portrait artist was also pulled to sit in the passenger seat. This time Guo Yu was driving.

Fu Yuan was not familiar with him, so he just said that he had no dietary restrictions and could eat whatever he wanted.

More than ten minutes later, Guo Yu parked the car next to a pig-slaughtering noodle shop.

When Fu Yuan got out of the car, she felt more than a dozen pairs of big eyes suddenly looking at her, and she couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable.

Guo Yu pushed open the glass door, and a fresh aroma hit him. He called inside, "Boss, four servings of pig-killing noodles, large bowls, with beef."

The table was a square plastic table. Four people sat around the table. There were three porcelain bowls against the wall, filled with onions and peppers, which you could add yourself.

"Where were we talking just now?" Guo Yu put down his phone and asked Wang Fugui.

Wang Fugui looked hopeless and said, "I think you should find Wu Ping and find out more. Of course, you should also investigate that man."

Fu Yuan frowned.

Wang Fugui's gaze fell on Fu Yuan. "You seem to be unable to believe that Wu Ping might be the murderer, or rather, you don't want to accept that Wu Ping is suspected?"

She nodded hesitantly. "It seems that what you said is correct. It was actually me who called the police. If I hadn't, maybe the next day... she would have really died in the lake."

"Besides, how did she know we could catch up with that black car? Was it just because the driver cursed at me?"

Guo Yu tapped his fingers on the table and looked at Fu Yuan. "We didn't say Wu Ping was the murderer, we just said she was suspicious."

Fu Yuan felt inexplicably dissatisfied after hearing this and said, "You are blaming the victim."

The portrait artist didn't understand the case and didn't participate in it. He just looked up from his phone and urged his boss, "How long will it take? I'm starving..."

"Hmm..." Wang Fugui looked at Fu Yuan's expression, feeling a little puzzled. "I mean, is it possible that she hypnotized you too?"

　La la la la ~ No prize guessing game: Did Wu Ping direct and act in the film herself?
　
(End of this chapter)