Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The characteristics of these videos were too obvious at a glance.

Screenwriter Xu was certain: "It's numbers."

"The empty room is an interval," said Kang Mu Cheng, arranging the videos into five rows.

The numbers obtained are as follows:

179

17931

183

317946

1793

At the same time, the remote control on the side of the shelf was also found. The exhibition hall uses a projector for playback. The air conditioner uses a centralized air conditioning system that is uniformly set. There is no need to use it at all. It is very likely a mechanism.

Screenwriter Xu took it and pressed it according to the above numbers.

No reaction at all.

"What the hell is this?" He was puzzled and dissatisfied.

Jian Jing had been waiting outside for a long time without any movement. She couldn't help but knock on the door, "President Kang?"

"I'm fine." Kang Mu Cheng took off his suit jacket and leaned against the door to tell her briefly about the results, "This string of numbers should be a password."

Jian Jing agreed, sitting worriedly on the floor.

She had just touched the threshold of converting letters into numbers, but had no clue about number patterns.

What does this password mean?

Inside, Kang Mu Cheng took out his cell phone and used the built-in calculator to add, subtract, multiply and divide to try to find the connection between the numbers. However, unfortunately, nothing was found.

"It's neither an arithmetic progression nor a geometric progression." He calculated it, but had no clue. "Sometimes big and sometimes small, completely irregular."

Screenwriter Xu squatted next to him, thought about it for a while, and said, "There are four 179s out of five. Is there any special meaning?"

Kang Mu Cheng frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Assuming 179 is X, it becomes like this." Screenwriter Xu's fingers flew as he typed out the new number sequence in the memo.

The original sequence is:

179

17931

183

317946

1793

Replacing 179 with X yields:

X

X31

183

3X46

X3

Kang Mu Cheng was silent for a while: "So what?"

Screenwriter Xu: "..."

An awkward silence.

"I do textual work. Don't ask me to do math," Screenwriter Xu admitted frankly, "I have no clue what this is, I can't even understand it when I look at it."

Kang Mu Cheng: "Same."

"Aren't you a Columbia University genius?" Screenwriter Xu's tone was skeptical.

"This kind of password has nothing to do with major. We just haven't found the right way to think about it yet." Kang Mu Cheng thought about it and knocked on the door panel, "Jingjing, have you figured it out?"

Outside the door, Jian Jing rolled over and got up from the cold floor, asking them, "What does the remote control look like?"

"It's an ordinary one, with a small screen on top and buttons below." Kang Mu Cheng answered.

"Are the buttons numbers or letters?"

"According to the system settings, each area has an emergency password that will allow you to leave if you find it." President Qin was rummaging through shelves of coffee beans and baking ingredients, his impatience showing through. "I don't know where this room's is hidden. Help me look for it, we need to get out quickly."

Editor-in-Chief Guo casually picked up a pack of tapioca flour and flipped through it lazily: "What are you afraid of? Didn't you already plan to divorce your wife? Just let her see, it'll save you the trouble of bringing it up yourself."

In the dim phone light, a hint of gloom flashed through President Qin's eyes, but his tone was perfunctory: "It'd look too ugly if we made a scene here. It wouldn't be good for our reputation either."

Editor-in-Chief Guo didn't say anything more. She turned her back, the corners of her lips curling slightly in utter derision.

How could she have reached the position of Editor-in-Chief at one of the top publishing houses in the country if she was some silly ingénue who didn't understand subtext? Yet this man thought she was stupid enough to believe anything he said.

He clearly didn't want the divorce.

But if not getting divorced, just playing lover's games with him, did he think she was that starved for love?

What she wanted was Mrs. Qin's status.

"Just that?" She gently softened her tone, seeming convinced. Just a little worried, she said, "I thought you and your wife were flaunting your love so much, could it be you don't want to split up after all?"

President Qin retorted, "You believe that staged act?"

Editor-in-Chief Guo didn't speak again.

After a while, "Got it," President Qin said. He had found an iPad on one of the shelves, which contained purchase ledger records. The notes app also had the emergency password 51361 written down.

He immediately rushed to the door to unlock it, relieved.

Editor-in-Chief Guo, on the other hand, inexplicably shuddered, a dark cloud passing over.

51361, sounded kind of like... I'll kill you?

*

"Sigh." Jian Jing heaved a heavy sigh, sitting back against the wall and sipping her cooled milk tea.

It was 6:48 now. They had been trapped for over two hours already, yet still hadn't found a way to leave the third floor. Missing dinner time, everyone was hungry, forced to fill their stomachs with the milk tea, coffee, and popcorn Mrs. Qin had brought over.

Screenwriter Xu crunched on the caramel popcorn, making small talk: "What company is this that they sealed off the third floor and won't let us out so perfectly?"

"No, security systems have ratings." In this day and age, the rich use security systems the most. Kang Mu Cheng happened to be one of those rich people and explained, "Different grade plans are different. Private exhibition halls are rated up to B at most. Even if they modified the equipment themselves, the framework doesn't change. There must be an emergency exit."

Jian Jing was still confused: "What ratings?"

“D-level ordinary residences only have alarm defense facilities. For example, once someone breaks into your home, it will automatically trigger the alarm, and all the door locks except for the main entrance will automatically lock to ensure your safety as the top priority.” Kang Mu Cheng patiently explained, “C-level company enterprises, in addition to alarm defenses, also have hidden door mechanisms to facilitate the police in catching intruders.”

“B-level means there are control devices?”

“That's right, tear gas, power grids and so on can all be used, but according to regulations, escape routes must be left, it is against the rules to seal off everything.” Kang Mu Cheng spoke with certainty, “There must be a way to get out of here, let's keep looking.”

“Wait,” Jian Jing stopped him, “What about A-level?”

The screenwriter Xu laughed: “A-level is only available for government agencies, lethal force is allowed.”

“I see.” Jian Jing made an effort to absorb the different common sense settings from the past world.

“Screenwriter Xu, come take a look at these paintings.” Kang Mu Cheng used his phone to take pictures of the paintings hanging on the walls, “Could the mechanism be hidden here?”

Screenwriter Xu became spirited and straightened his body to take them down: “Let’s take them off and take a look.”

“I’ll do it.” Kang Mu Cheng, at six foot one, could easily take them off without needing a stool.

The oil paintings and frames were a bit heavy. He took them down one by one and neatly placed them on the floor tiles, aligned front and back. Jian Jing couldn't help but ridicule: “Mr. Kang, your obsessive compulsive disorder is quite serious.”

“Occupational disease.” Kang Mu Cheng did not deny this little quirk. He hated incorrect email formats, incorrect word order in sentences, or incorrect punctuation. Whenever he encountered them, he wished he could circle them out and correct them.

Undoubtedly, the aftereffects of being an editor.

Screenwriter Xu grumbled softly: “Editors like this are the most annoying.”

“I know right.” Jian Jing unconsciously chimed in.

Kang Mu Cheng: “Ahem!”

The two writers immediately shut their mouths.

Jian Jing felt around the frames, and soon discovered an inconsistent protrusion on the side with her extraordinary observational skills. Scraping with her fingernail, there was actually a key hidden inside.

“There really is one.” She was pleasantly surprised and puzzled at the same time, “Why hide it in the painting?”

“Darkness beneath the lamp.” Screenwriter Xu took the key and turned it twice, “There are no keyholes on the wall, is this to open that door?”

He was referring to another room on the third floor.

Yuyi Villa was originally a residence, certainly not as spacious as large art museums. The second floor was the main exhibition hall, while the third floor was much smaller, with only three rooms - a private theater, a bathroom, and a locked exhibition hall.

Inserting the key and turning it opened the door.

Jian Jing: “...”

The bathroom had an electronic lock, while the exhibition hall had an ordinary lock. Was it this world that was wrong, or was there something wrong with her?