Ke Xun took the phone away from his ear and chuckled into the receiver, "See you at the next painting."
That way, he wouldn't have to hear the other person say goodbye.
After hanging up, Mu Yiran received a text message from Ke Xun—his WeChat ID—without his address.
Clearly, he was waiting for Mu Yiran to add him on WeChat.
Mu Yiran stared at the number for a long time, his face darkening, before finally adding him, albeit reluctantly.
The profile picture was an eye, Ke Xun's own eye, clear and bright, smiling, with a distinct curve at the corners. Looking closely, there seemed to be something in the pupil. He zoomed in and saw four small words: "What are you looking at?
" Mu Yiran: "..."
This person's nickname was Corgi.
Mu Yiran: "..."
"Corgi's" message quickly arrived: Mooney, my god! Mwah!
Mooney: Address.
Corgi: )))8"
Mooney: )))1"
Corgi: )))10"
Mooney: )))4"
Corgi: Okay, I'll send you some local specialties later.
Mooney: I'm logging off.
Corgi: Take care, sir, please come again. [color/se]
Just before Mu Yiran closed the chat box, he noticed that Corgi's avatar had changed to a simple white-and-black line drawing of a crooked-mouthed, slanted-eye figure.
The next morning, Wei Dong arrived at the door.
"Huh? I was waiting to catch them cheating, why are you all alone?" Wei Dong yanked off the blanket covering Ke Xun, revealing a half-naked single dog.
Ke Xun pulled the blanket back over himself, closing his eyes: "Get lost."
"Get the hell out of here, get up." Wei Dong kicked him.
Ke Xun sat up and rubbed his hair: "What are you doing?"
Wei Dong was a little anxious: "What do you mean, what are you doing? Get up and think of a way! There are only twelve days left. Do you really want to go back into the painting?"
Ke Xun yawned: "It's not like you have a way to avoid going into the painting."
Wei Dong paused and sighed: "Where there's a will, there's a way."
Ke Xun looked up at him: "Even Boss Mu and Dr. Qin can't do anything. Do you think we two academic underachievers can be better than them?"
Wei Dong pulled his hair: "I don't want to accept my fate! When I went back yesterday and saw my mom, I rushed over to her. I couldn't bear to leave her, even though she slapped me so hard I almost fell over... I didn't dare tell them about the painting. I was afraid they'd think their son had gone crazy. I didn't sleep half the night. I was writing my will for them in my room. As I wrote, tears streamed down my face. I don't want to die, Ke'er! I still have so much of my life to enjoy! I don't even have a girlfriend yet!"
Ke Xun lowered his head and put on his clothes. He came out of the bathroom to wash up and went into the kitchen.
Wei Dong followed Ke Xun inside, watching him boil milk, fry eggs, and slice ham. He stared blankly for a while, muttering, "Looking at all this makes me realize how wonderful a peaceful, ordinary life is... The more I think about it, the more resentful I feel. Why was I chosen?"
"I think everything has a cause," Ke Xun said, cutting bread with his head down. "But this cause might only be found in the paintings. We've only been to one painting, and we know nothing about the others. We can't find any connections or clues. So instead of complaining here, we should be more proactive and figure out how to safely get through the next painting. Maybe then we can find a breakthrough."
"You're right," Wei Dong said, forcing himself to cheer up. "But how do we deal with the next painting? We don't even know what it's about."
Ke Xun made two simple sandwiches, placed them on a plate, handed one to Wei Dong, and then sat down at the table. "We'll go find the pancake stall owner later. We'll have to go into the next painting together, so let's get together and think of a solution."
However, when the two arrived at the pancake stall owner's usual spot, they didn't see him.
"That guy's got a weak constitution; he'll probably need a few days to recover," Wei Dong said.
Ke Xun asked the owners of the nearby breakfast and snack stalls for the phone number of the pancake vendor and dialed it.
No one answered.
"Does anyone know where he lives?" Ke Xun asked.
The pancake vendor pointed in a direction: "He rents an apartment in Xingfu Residential Area."
"Thanks," Ke Xun said, calling Wei Dong, and headed towards Xingfu Residential Area.
Upon entering, they asked the security guard which building the man who pushed his pancake cart every day lived in, and then they found his doorstep.
After knocking for a while with no answer, the two men stared at each other in dismay. A neighbor peeked out from behind the door: "Stop knocking, nobody's home."
Ke Xun asked, "Do you know where he went?"
The neighbor replied, "He was taken away by people from the mental hospital."
Wei Dong exclaimed in surprise, "Mental hospital?"
The neighbor said, "Yes, he was perfectly fine, then suddenly he went crazy. He was smashing things, banging his head against the wall, crying until his eyes bled, and he almost pushed his wife off the balcony."
Ke Xun and Wei Dong exchanged a glance. Ke Xun asked, "What about his wife?"
The neighbor replied, "She went to the mental hospital to complete the paperwork. I guess her husband will have to be hospitalized for a long time. I heard from the doctor that his condition is quite serious; he might never come out."
Downstairs, Wei Dong's eyes widened in fear: "Do you think this could be a side effect of what happened in the painting? Could we suddenly go crazy too?"
Ke Xun took out his phone, dialed, and after three rings, the call connected: "Boss, the pancake stall owner has gone mad. Is there any explanation for this?"
Wei Dong stared at him wide-eyed.
Mu Yiran paused slightly, then said, "These are the 'painting's' mandatory restrictions. Once you tell others about what happened in the painting, or about the existence of a world within the painting, you'll most likely be considered crazy, and the 'painting' will turn you into a real madman, a mental patient, and drive you to madness until you die."
Ke Xun also paused, "...Damn. This way of being censored is quite convenient."
Mu Yiran said calmly, "So, whether you write a will or make a testament, don't mention the painting to outsiders. It's useless."
Wei Dong, who was listening nearby, sighed, "This is truly a fucking unspeakable predicament."
"Is there anything else?" Mu Yiran asked.
Ke Xun glanced around and lowered his voice, "Boss, since you're always abroad, can you get your hands on guns?"
Mu Yiran chuckled on the other end of the phone, seemingly mocking, yet also helpless, "No use, they'll break down. I tried bringing one into the second painting, but it was completely unusable inside.
"Not just guns, other melee weapons are the same. Qin Ci brought a sharp scalpel, and once inside, not only did the tip become rounded, but the entire blade became five or six centimeters thick, practically like a piece of scrap metal."
"Not to mention the security checks at the art museum. Whether it's what you're carrying or what's in your bag, you can't bring any prohibited items inside.
Even everyday items will have their functions selectively disabled once they're inside the painting. For example, a cell phone will usually only retain its timekeeping and lighting functions. Depending on the painting's era, it might occasionally retain its photo-taking or music playback functions.
As for what other things will look like inside the painting, you can try it out."
After hanging up, Ke Xun shrugged at Wei Dong: "Well, that's all we can do. Go back and practice your Maoshan Taoist talisman-drawing skills."
Wei Dong thought for a moment: "We can't bring prohibited weapons, so let's prepare some other useful things, right? Like flashlights, tents, food, ropes, etc. What do you think?"
Ke Xun chuckled: "Did you see Mu Yiran and Dr. Qin bring anything with them in the last painting?" Wei Dong was taken aback: "It seems like they didn't bring anything." Ke Xun: "Based on my speculation, firstly, the 'painting' won't let us starve to death, otherwise there would be no need...
"
If they wanted to concoct something terrifying to harm us, they could just trap us in a room without doors or windows, starve us, and we'd all die. Why bother with all that trouble? As for tents and such, in the face of life and death, nobody cares about such things. Bringing them would just be a burden. So, the real experts are the ones who adapt to any situation and simply go in empty-handed.
Wei Dong: "I'm not an expert. I just want to have a good meal before I die. I strongly request that I bring a few packs of chocolate beef jerky next time I go into a painting."
When Wei Dong and Ke Xun arrived at Exhibition Hall 3 of the Changhe Art Museum twelve days later, carrying a backpack full of food, they found that bringing their own food was actually useless.
The process of entering the second painting was no different from the first. First, all the lights went out, and then a beam of light without a source quickly shone on one of the paintings hanging in the exhibition hall.
Before being sucked into the painting, Ke Xun desperately tried to open his eyes to see the scene clearly, but could only make out a blurry, colorful mess. Within this colorful mess, there was a pair of clear, narrow eyes, their eyelids drooping, filled with a kind and joyful smile.
It took Ke Xun a while to open his eyes again, because it was so bright; he had suddenly gone from a pitch-black art gallery to an exceptionally bright place.
Before him lay blue skies, white clouds, snow-capped mountains, grasslands, and blinding sunlight.
It was like a tourist paradise.
Ke Xun was stunned. He had been prepared for a sinister and terrifying scene, but the atmosphere had changed unexpectedly.
Turning to look at Wei Dong beside him, the two of them froze on the spot.
"...What the hell..." Wei Dong stared at him, speechless.
Both of them were dressed in tattered clothes.
"So, are we going to play beggars this time?" Wei Dong looked down and straightened his clothes, which were neither robe nor skirt. "Why does this style look so much like Gandalf the Grey?"
Ke Xun was pondering which era the clothes belonged to when he heard someone call out from not far away, "Over here."
Looking in the direction of the voice, he saw Doctor Qin Ci, who was also wearing similar clothes and sitting on a large rock. Several people were standing beside him. Besides Ma Zhenhua, who had survived the previous painting, there were three or five unfamiliar faces, all with expressions of fear and bewilderment.
Ke Xun and Wei Dong walked over and glanced at the newcomers. They saw two young girls, who looked to be only eighteen or nineteen years old. One was slender and tall, and the other was slightly plump and short. The
tall one was a long-haired beauty, whose face was pale and tears were still in the corners of her eyes.
The slightly plump one was not particularly striking in appearance and wore black-rimmed glasses. She was stunned with fright.
The others included a young man in his late twenties who was frantically fiddling with his phone, and what appeared to be a family of three: a middle-aged couple in their forties with a child who looked like a middle school student.
Ke Xun frowned, a surge of anger rising to his head.
A child!
A child!
"Damn it!" Ke Xun couldn't hold back, kicking a rock that sent the newcomers shivering and staring at him nervously.