Paintings of Terror

Chapter 220: The Deceased

Chapter 220: The Deceased

The courtyard below the city of buildings was quite huge. It was similar to a modern-day medium-sized plaza, with spacious open space, pavilions and rockeries, and lively places like bazaars.

But everything always seemed to be covered with dust, as if it was eroded by desert sandstorms several years ago and was difficult to clean even if it was rebuilt.

“Looks like ruins.” Shao Ling couldn’t describe his feelings at the moment. Everything before him looked spectacular and frightening. “This place feels like a newly excavated underground city. Maybe there are some buried stories for us to dig.”

Listening to Shao Ling’s description, Mu Yiran thought of something, but didn’t speak.

“This place is too big. If we just look for the signature without any clues, we probably won’t be able to find it in ten years.” Looking at the majestic buildings, Wei Dong actually missed the ship from the last painting. Although the sea was vast, it was simple. “Besides, there are too many NPCs…”

Luo Bu hugged his dog and shivered: “I don’t want to stay in this place for ten years…”

“You wish, we only have seven days.” Wei Dong reminded Luo Bu mercilessly.

Luo Bu didn’t say a word, instead Koharu cried out.

Everyone looked at this magnificent and complicated city of buildings, all feeling a little helpless.

There was only a simple house in the painting they saw. Who knew that the structure inside the house could be so complicated, with so many vivid NPCs living here.

“Look, there are a lot of people gathered on the platform on the second floor.” Du Lingyu pointed to a basketball court-sized platform. It was indeed full of people, and people from different floors seemed to be rushing in that direction.

“That’s probably where the incident happened.” Qin Ci slowed down his pace, “The deceased Xiayu that the lantern-lighter mentioned should be there.”

“This is the first obvious clue that the painting gave us.” Zhu Haowen also stopped, not intending to squeeze into the crowd.

“If this is a clue, then the signature is on Yuxia’s body? Are we going to find a signature on a corpse?” Cao Youning felt that his voice didn’t quite resemble him anymore. Everything that happened today felt too illusory. I really hope this is just a dream.

“It’s Xiayu.” Xi Shengnan corrected him, “it’s not Yuxia.”

“It’s just a person in the painting, and they are already dead. They have no nothing to do with us.” Cao Youning wasn’t in a good mood and couldn’t be bothered to think about whether it’s Xiayu or Yuxia. He felt this so-called dead person was like the white-clothed doll that his older sister used to scare him when he was young, dragged on the floor with its face down and hair loose.

“Xiayu, why do I feel that this name is familiar? If I remember correctly, the character Xia should be the Xia in ‘Wu Xia’.” Du Lingyu seemed to have remembered something, and turned to look at Xi Shengnan: “Sister Xi, I remember in your novel…”

Xi Shengnan looked at everyone: “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but there is a heroine in my novel named Xiayu, and that was my first novel.”

Unexpectedly, Xi Shengnan was not only a photographer, but also a novelist.

“It’s just a hobby.” Xi Shengnan said faintly.

At this time, several people passed by them, who were just there to see what was going on: “Poor Miss Xiayu. If you ask me, her name is inauspicious. A fine jade with flaws.”

“Oh, now you are talking and acting so knowledgeable. If you knew literomancy, what do we need the Shamans for?” Another person said.

“Let’s listen to what Master Shaman has to say. The murderer can’t escape the Shaman’s eyes.”

They walked towards the platform on the second floor where the crowd gathered while talking.

“A fine jade with flaws. Sister Xi, this is exactly the same as the name of the heroine you wrote.” Du Lingyu’s voice trembled slightly, not understanding how the painting obtained everyone’s information, and was even aware of their written works.

Xi Shengnan didn’t look well either. Even if it was just a coincidence, it was inauspicious.

“Sister Xi, how did Xia Yu in the novel die?” Wei Dong asked.

The corner of Xi Shengnan’s mouth twitched: “She didn’t die, Xiayu didn’t die in the novel, and in the end, she obtained happiness through her own efforts.”

Wei Dong didn’t know why but he felt that it was even more sad that Xiayu didn’t die. The wicked painting instigator seemed to just want to kill happy and beautiful things for them to see.

.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence. Let’s go find out the surname of this Xiayu.” Wei Dong tried to comfort Xi Shengnan.

Xi Shengnan seemed a little hesitant. Her gaze scanned the crowd and finally landed on Mu Yiran’s face.

Mu Yiran: “The shorter we stay in the painting, the better. I suggest that we divide into three groups. One group will go back to the room where we live to find clues. The second group will walk around this place. Even if no clues can be found, it’s fine to at least get a hang of the rules of this place. The last group will go downstairs to the scene of the incident.”

“I’ll go down and have a look.” Fang Fei said directly. At the moment, she had already made simple changes to her clothes. She tied the wide gauze used for headbands tightly around her waist, making her look very agile.

“I’m going too!” Wei Dong followed closely behind.

Wei Dong’s rare bravery and generosity stunned Luo Bu. He whispered, “I won’t be going… I’m not yet used to corpses…”

Lu Heng said to Xi Shengnan, “Don’t think too much. Let’s have just a few people go first to fish for some information.”

Xi Shengnan wanted to go too but was a little afraid. She could only nod at this moment: “Please be careful.”

Ke Xun and Mu Yiran exchanged a glance, and followed Wei Dong: “When did you have the guts to rush forward alone now?”

Wei Dong had indeed grown a lot now. He rarely called “Ke Er, Boss” for help. Seeing how Luo Bu kept calling “brother, brother-in-law” nowadays, Wei Dong thought of his old self.

“Rush forward alone?” Wei Dong pointed to Fang Fei who was walking in the front: “She is quite emboldening.”

Ke Xun: “…”

Fang Fei walked in the front. The cotton tunic fitted her very well. Under the candlelight, the fabric of the tunic exhibited matte exotic patterns, with flowers and birds inside the round beaded patterns.

Wei Dong looked at the pattern on his clothes, which was similar to everyone else’s: “I think the birds on it seem to be crows.”

“It’s inauspicious. Touch some wood.” Ke Xun remained expressionless.

“What, are you Haowen Er now?” Wei Dong stopped talking. Everyone had reached the second floor at this time, and there seemed to be a loud argument from the crowd in front of them.

—”It’s him! It must be him! The Xiao family has always wanted a marriage with the Chu family, but now that fell through, he simply killed Xiayu!” It seemed that someone was pointing out the murderer.

Almost everyone’s gaze was focused on a red-faced young man. His eyes flickered a few times and he tried to defend himself: “Anyway, I didn’t kill her. Even if the marriage talk fell through, I have no need to kill anyone.”

Soon someone said: “You said that what you can’t have, no one else can have either! Many of us were there when you said it!”

“I…” The young man was speechless.

The voices of these people were quite loud. Ke Xun and others could hear them clearly outside of the crowd.

Wei Dong couldn’t help but complain in a low voice: “Why is the plot so dramatic? It feels like a cliched TV drama written by a third-rate editor in the 2000s…”

“Don’t say that. Shengnan is a serious writer.” Lu Heng, who was standing next to them, suddenly said.

This sentence contained a lot of information. Ke Xun turned to look at Lu Heng, and Fang Fei, who was standing in front of them, also turned around: “You mean, what happened just now is the same as the plot in the book? ”

Wei Dong was also surprised: “Have you read that book? Women’s fiction?”

Fang Fei’s eyes drifted over Wei Dong’s face: Is this important…

Lu Heng first answered Wei Dong: “Yes, I have read it. It was Shengnan’s debut novel, and it was published on a female-oriented novel website. The reception was lukewarm, maybe because the plot didn’t have enough ups and downs, but it conveyed true feelings…”

“Bro, get to the point.” Wei Dong reminded him.

Lu Heng cleared his throat in embarrassment: “The heroine Xiayu, also surnamed Chu, had an engagement with the Xiao family before. Later, the Xiao family fell into decline, and the Chu family unilaterally broke off the engagement.”

The young man, who was accused by everyone as the murderer, was from the Xiao family. According to what people had said, he had a marriage agreement with the deceased Xiayu before, and he once said, “If you can’t get it, you might as well kill it.” in front of everyone. Everyone was now using that as evidence, and it was hard for him to defend himself.

They were quiet after hearing what Lu Heng said. Fang Fei looked at Ke Xun: “I don’t believe that this painting will read our inner thoughts one by one like last time.”

Ke Xun thought for a moment and asked Lu Heng: “Did Xi Shengnan know the photographer Bi Di before?”

“I don’t think they knew each other. Bi Di passed away in the 1990s. Besides, the cities where these two resided are far away, so it is unlikely that they ever met.” Lu Heng hesitated for a moment, then added: “The only common thing they share is probably photography.”

But why did the painting choose Xi Shengnan’s novel as the first clue? If Xi Shengnan had no special relationship with the artist, would today’s scene happen to everyone in the future?

Ke Xun looked at Fang Fei: “I also don’t believe that this painting will follow the path of the previous painting and dig deep into our inner thoughts.”

Through the stream of figures, Wei Dong vaguely saw the dead Xiayu lying there, covered with a gray cloth, with dark red blood oozing under. The blood flowed like a gelatinized stream, stopping in one direction, as if intending to identify the murderer.

Wei Dong’s heart trembled. He moved closer to Ke Xun and felt a little more at ease.

“I think this painting only borrowed the settings of the novel written by Sister Xi and changed many parts. Sister Xi said just now that the heroine did not die at all and lived a happy life.” Wei Dong expressed his opinion, “This story so far has little to do with that novel.”

Lu Heng pursed his slightly thick lips. Under the candlelight, his facial features were closer to those of Southeast Asians: “This is Shengnan’s first novel. She once revealed that it is almost a semi-autobiographical novel. I’ve heard that many authors’ first novels are somewhat autobiographical.”

The flickering candlelight was as ominous as what Lu Heng said—autobiography, wouldn’t the deceased, Xiayu, be the incarnation of Xi Shengnan herself?

The candle flames jumped more and more violently, but the crowd suddenly fell silent. A gust of wind rushed towards them with momentum, and someone whispered: “Master Shaman is here.”