"Invite Jiang Xia to our house?!" The young female assistant sprang up like a mouse that had caught the scent of a cat. "Isn't that walking right into a trap?!"
The middle-aged man cursed her stupidity inwardly and had no choice but to explain, "Of course not. Don't forget, Jiang Xia is a detective who values evidence and places great importance on a complete chain of logic. Just because he hasn't come knocking doesn't mean he hasn't noticed us—we have to strike first and can't count on luck. Otherwise, once he slowly gathers all the clues, it'll be hard for us to get away."
The young female assistant still felt that something was off, but the more she listened, the more reasonable it seemed.
After hesitating for a moment, she stopped arguing and nodded. The middle-aged man was reliable most of the time, and at least he had more ideas than she did. Listening to him probably couldn't be wrong.
The female writer merely glanced at her husband and gave a cold snort. "Invite him if you want. I don't object."
The three quickly reached an agreement.
Television news was slower than the internet, so the female writer did not remain in the living room to keep watching. She stood up. "I'm going back to write. I've got another new idea."
"Go ahead." The other two did not try to stop her and went off to handle their own affairs.
But their separation was only temporary.
The moment the female writer entered the bedroom and shut the door, the other two circled around from opposite directions, exchanged a look, and skillfully came together.
The young female assistant asked, "You had something to say to me just now?"
Haitang Yota pushed up his glasses and nodded.
What he had said earlier