"It's the middle of the night, and you still want to paint? You're so bad!" Shěn Jī happily ended the call, making a victory gesture. Finally, this man was thinking of her at midnight—whether physically or spiritually, she had captured him.
Luò Wǎn stood on the street and shouted loudly at Lǐ Dàlù, "Go away; I want to be alone for a while." Lǐ Dàlù looked at her expression, deeply pained, and walked up to her.
He firmly grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
Then, on the street, he asked sternly, "You're devastated to this extent over a man who has nothing to do with you. Just how many hearts do you have, and how many people can you give them to?"
Lǐ Dàlù's expression was one of true rage, and his words, each one, sliced through Luò Wǎn's heart like a knife. His words sliced through Luò Wǎn's heart like a knife. She pushed Lǐ Dàlù away and ran wildly down the street, her distress consuming her.
Lǐ Dàlù's expression was sheer rage, and his words, each one, cut into Luò Wǎn's heart like a knife. She pushed him away and ran frantically down the street. The streetlights above seemed to rain down like arrows, filling the sky. "This isn't like this." Lǐ Dàlù, you are an idiot; you are the biggest idiot in the world. "
She hailed a taxi waiting by the roadside and headed straight for Jinxiang Building. She needed to confirm once again that Xiǎomù was not a bad person.
The building stood there, still and silent. No matter what happened inside, it remained a cold observer, watching everything but never showing care or excitement.
As Luò Wǎn rushed toward the building, she didn´t notice Xiǎomù´s silver luxury sports car parked in the lot.
She entered the elevator and, after a moment's thought, pressed the button for the top floor. It wasn´t that she didn´t believe Lǐ Dàlù, but the truth was hard to accept. Her mind was piecing together many details like a puzzle, slowly revealing the truth of the situation like an unfolding painting. She had confirmed it in her heart, but she hoped it was false.
The rooftop was quiet, and the studio was beautiful—large and artistic, glowing softly under the lights. It perfectly matched Xiǎomù's nature, always gentle and unassuming, yet constantly hinting at a subtle sadness.
She saw that the door to the studio was slightly ajar. As she reached out to push it, her fingertips gradually touched the white door. It was as if green paint had been poured into clear water, spreading instantly from her fingertips and tinting the entire door green.
Luo Wan wasn't surprised at all. What she wanted to know most wasn't about the green door, nor did she care about her own life or death. She simply wanted to prove one thing.
The studio was very spacious, over 200 square meters, and had a high ceiling. A stunning mural adorned the ceiling, featuring the Virgin Mary seated in the center. Aside from a chair and a canvas, the walls were covered with oil paintings, all depicting women—each one different, each beauty unique. Some were vibrant, some innocent, some joyful, and others sorrowful. Yet all the women in the paintings shared a beautiful face and gentle eyes.
Luò Wǎn stood quietly in the center of the room, gazing at the oil paintings. They were so lifelike that it seemed as if the figures could step out of the canvas at any moment and vanish into thin air.
Luò Wǎn walked among the densely arranged paintings, each row neatly hung. She quietly moved to the edge of a canvas and touched the oil paint—it was still wet, indicating that someone had been painting there recently.
Luò Wǎn saw a newly hung oil painting, still partly fresh. It depicted Shěn Jī, leaning against a window in front of an old courtyard gate. The background was dark green, but her eyes were sinister, like a snake poised to strike.
Luò Wǎn gently touched the canvas, feeling that the area around the eyes was still wet, indicating it had been painted recently. As her fingertips rested on it, the canvas subtly trembled, as if someone were touching it from behind.
Suddenly, Luò Wǎn had a thought. With determination, she pulled down the canvas and saw Shěn Jī standing inside a glass container, the water already rising above her calves. Her eyes were wide, as if pleading for Luò Wǎn's help, and she was banging on the glass walls with both hands, causing the canvas to tremble.
Shěn Jī was screaming, but Luò Wǎn couldn't hear a thing; the glass was soundproof. Water was slowly filling the container, and soon the air inside would run out, causing the water to rise over Shěn Jī´s head and turn her into a specimen submerged in water.
Luò Wǎn threw the easel against the glass, shattering it into pieces, but the glass remained unscathed. It seemed not only soundproof but also bulletproof.
Luò Wǎn and Shěn Jī, one outside the container and the other inside, both desperately pounded on the glass, but it was in vain. As Luò Wǎn considered calling for help and turned to leave, she realized the door had been locked from the outside.
She began to panic. If she didn’t seek help soon, not only would Shěn Jī die, but she might be in danger too. She pulled out her phone, but there was no signal at all. The studio seemed to have some method of blocking the reception.
As she desperately tried to think of a solution, another painting caught her eye. It depicted a woman sitting on a stone bench, smiling with a flower in her hand, gazing at the canvas with a sweet smile as if looking at her most beloved person.
Luò Wǎn stepped back, realizing that the woman in the painting looked so familiar.
Only Chǔ Yīng had such an expression during her happiest moments.
She trembled as she removed the painting and slowly crouched down. At last, she saw Chǔ Yīng´s long hair spread gently, her smile angelic. Behind the painting on the seventh floor, the scene was actually of the studio itself. No wonder she couldn´t find Chǔ Yīng´s body—who would have guessed she was hidden here?
Luò Wǎn's questions were finally answered: Why did Grandma have to die? Why take Chǔ Yīng and the souls trapped behind the paintings? It was because she wanted to redeem Xiǎomù's soul and help her grandson atone for his sins.
Why did Grandma give Lǐ Dàlù his sight? It was because she hoped Lǐ Dàlù could help her and Shàngguān Liúyún, but more importantly, to help Xiǎomù become aware of the existence of souls.
Could it really be Xiǎomù? Luò Wǎn shook her head, tears splashing from her eyes.
She turned and saw the painting she first encountered at the swimming pool. In it, she was equally beautiful, playing with a canary in front of a birdcage, her expression filled with delicate happiness.
She gathered her courage and pulled down the painting. In the glass container, a hand reached out helplessly towards her. The woman´s face leaned back, as if already falling into boundless darkness.
Luò Wǎn continued to pull down the paintings, finding a glass container behind each one. Each container held a female corpse, submerged in the water. Dense layers of oil paintings, countless female corpses, and tangled masses of long hair, countless eyes were wide open, arranged in rows and columns, surrounding Luò Wǎn. The only escape seemed to be that door.
