You're just a locksmith! What are you doing catching swindlers at the start?

She grabbed Lin Zhou's hand and turned it over to look at it. There were still traces of condensation on his fingertips, and they were icy cold, but his fingers could move freely.

She felt relieved, let go of his hand, and immediately put on another expression—the proud look of "my son has been smart since he was little".

He turned to a woman who was watching nearby and said...

"This is my son! I raised him!"

Su Wan's mother walked over and adjusted her glasses.

Instead of brushing the dust off Lin Zhou like his mother did, she stood in front of him and remained silent for two seconds.

"Xiao Lin, that child has been frozen for over ten minutes, and the firefighters still haven't arrived. Could you open the door?"

Lin Zhou nodded. Su Wan's mother didn't say anything more praising. Instead, she took off her glasses, wiped the lenses with her sleeve, put them back on, and turned to Lin Zhou's mother.

"Our Wanwan has a good eye for people."

Lin Zhou's father stood on the outside with his hands behind his back. When he heard Su Wan's mother's words, his eyebrows twitched.

Her husband had already lauded her for being "well-educated," and her mother-in-law had praised Su Wan for having "good taste."

He was a man of few words, but he was, after all, a father.

He took two steps forward, patted Lin Zhou on the shoulder, and said, "My son takes after me."

Lin Zhou's mother was engrossed in her conversation with the older woman when the words "follow my lead" drifted over to her, and the conversation immediately shifted.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, turned to Lin Zhou's father, and her eyes gleamed with the shrewdness that comes from having one's credit stolen.

"What do you mean, 'whatever you want'? What did you teach him? All you do is transfer money to him! He learned his skills on his own, and his attentiveness is something I taught him since he was little—when he was in school, I always made him bring an umbrella whenever it rained. Why don't you mention that?"

Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, calmly replied.

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it. He says he can't run fast with an umbrella. So be it."

Su Wan stood to the side, watching Lin Zhou's parents start to bicker quietly about "whose credit this was."

The natural curve of her lips changed from a slight bend to a full smile.

It's not the kind of smile that comes from being amused, but a warmer smile that rises from the bottom of your heart.

She looked at Lin Zhou, who was stomping dry the puddle of icy water at the entrance of the cold storage, pretending not to hear.

Her gaze flickered to the shards of ice on his trouser leg that he hadn't had time to brush off. It was very light, as if to say, "It's enough that only I saw it."

Just then, two people suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor.

A man was carrying a camera, with a red indicator light on the machine.

The other person was holding a microphone, had a ponytail, wore a dark blue windbreaker, and had a press pass hanging on their chest.

They walked over quickly, and the reporter with the ponytail glanced at Lin Zhou and immediately confirmed something.

A blue down jacket, a tool bag, and a mini camera clipped to her chest. It was exactly the same as the screenshot of the live stream where she opened a cold storage room in three seconds that she had seen trending on Weibo ten minutes earlier.

"Hello, is this Lin Zhou? I'm a reporter from Jiangcheng."

The female reporter stood in front of Lin Zhou, her ponytail swaying gently as she walked quickly. She took a deep breath to calm herself and held the microphone in front of Lin Zhou.

"We were just doing interviews nearby when we received a tip that a locksmith here opened a cold storage door in three seconds and rescued a little girl. Did you come here specifically for this? Was your skill specially trained? How did you manage to open the lock in three seconds? What were you thinking at the time?"

The live chat exploded the moment the female reporter held out her microphone.

"From Jiangcheng!! It's a reporter from Jiangcheng!! They're incredibly fast! They were just interviewing the square-dancing aunties in the east of the city, and they rushed to the scene within fifteen minutes of receiving the tip!"

"Three-Second King is going to be interviewed in Jiangcheng. The last time he was interviewed was for that human trafficker arrest case, and Officer Su saluted him then. Now it's an interview in Jiangcheng, Three-Second King, can you say a few more words? Stop saying 'it's okay' and 'less talk saves energy'!"

Lin Zhou looked at the microphone extended in front of him; the logo on the microphone reflected the light from the corridor.

The female reporter, with her hair in a ponytail, looked serious, and was slightly out of breath.

The red light on the camera next to him was flashing incessantly.

He thought for a moment and then spoke, his tone as even as when he was giving a statement in the interrogation room.

"I didn't come here on purpose. I just happened to be eating at the Hunan restaurant across the street with my girlfriend and both sets of parents."

He paused for a moment when he mentioned "girlfriend".

He glanced at Su Wan out of the corner of his eye.

Su Wan's expression remained unchanged, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, forming an extremely subtle curve.

"I haven't had any special training in this area; I just repair locks a lot. The speed is fast because the cold storage locks are standard pin tumbler locks, which don't require special tools. As long as my fingers don't freeze, I generally won't fail. If I fail, the ice in the keyhole will be pushed deeper, making it difficult to open even if the fire department comes. So I can't afford to fail."

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Exclusive! An exclusive interview with the father of the Swordsman and behind-the-scenes stories of the creation of "You're a Locksmith! What Kind of Adulterer Are You Catching at the Start?", exclusively for Cola Novels.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

"You're just a locksmith! Why are you catching adulterers at the start?": A phenomenal success with overwhelmingly positive reviews!

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

I'm currently reading Chapter 57 of the novel "This Child Takes After Me" on Cola Novel, completely absorbed in it.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

The author "A Group of Swordsmen's Dad" recommends reading "You're a Locksmith! What Kind of Adulterer Are You Catching at the Start?" using the "Renren Bookstore" APP. Download and install it.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

"You're just a locksmith! What are you doing catching adulterers at the start?" - Stunning writing, with a gripping and dramatic plot!

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

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Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Announcement: Update coming soon, please stay tuned!

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Chapter 57 of the high-energy chapter: This child follows me! Read now:

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

The plot is heating up: Update! Come check out Cola Novels!

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Don't get lost while following the story! Bookmark this page and read "You're just a locksmith! What are you catching at the beginning?" anytime.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Chapter 57 of the high-energy chapter: This child follows me! Read now:

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

The latest update is now available on Cola Novels; we await your interpretation.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

He said "failure is not an option" in a very calm tone, as if he were stating a technical parameter.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

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Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

A group of swordsmen's fathers said: Read this book!

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

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Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

If you could only read one urban novel in your life, it would probably be "You're just a locksmith! What are you catching as an adulterer at the beginning?"

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

To immerse yourself in reading Chapter 57, "This Child Takes After Me," please click here.

But the female reporter paused, her pen still in her hand. "So what were you thinking at the time?"

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.

Lin Zhou lowered his head and looked at the padlock on the doorknob of the cold storage room.

The frost on the lock body had mostly melted, and the bronze-yellow lock body gleamed with a dull light under the lamp.

He recalled the sensation of the ice shards in the keyhole melting on his fingertips when he inserted the wire into it.

He said, "My thought was that this lock couldn't malfunction. A child huddled in a sub-zero temperature environment, every second was dangerous. I couldn't make a mistake when I was unlocking it, because if I did, it would be even harder to open when the firefighters arrived. I'm not a hero, I just happen to know how to open this lock."

He turned to look at the female reporter, his eyes calm.

At this moment, Lin Zhou's father, with his hands behind his back, heard the words "not a hero" and his expression turned serious.

Finally, unable to resist, he stepped forward from the outside, stood next to the camera, and casually added a comment.

"This child has always had his own ideas, just like me."

Lin Zhou's mother, with her sharp ears, immediately squeezed her purple down jacket next to the microphone and pushed Lin Zhou's father aside.

"What do you mean 'like you'! He clearly takes after me! When he was little, I made him bring an umbrella on rainy days; that cultivated his good habit of preparing in advance! Look, before he unlocked the door, he specifically told the little girl's mother what the temperature of the cold storage should be and how long it would take to recover—isn't that like me?"

"You asked him to bring the umbrella, but he never uses it, saying it's in the way. That's just like me. I like to keep things under control, and he does the same when he unlocks doors—he says he can't afford to fail, which means he's mentally prepared for all the possible failures. That's called preparation, not bringing an umbrella."

His father had a booming voice.

The female reporter's recorder faithfully documented everything. She didn't interrupt, but simply held the microphone steadily in her hand, barely suppressing the smile on her lips with her professionalism.