Famine

Chapitre 17

When Ahu took Nuonuo home, it was already one o'clock in the morning. Du Yaofeng lay on the sofa in the living room, covered with a thin towel blanket, snoring softly, waiting for her daughter to come home.

Today, a promotional event for a mineral water brand by H Beverage Company was held in the lobby of "Meilongzhen Plaza" in the Nanjing West Road business district. The massive ice block, supposedly from Antarctica and weighing a ton, indeed caused quite a stir. Over a hundred attendees sampled a glass of melted ice water on the spot, praising its pure taste and refreshing sweetness, calling it water from heaven. The organizers also specially invited a famous comedian to host the event and draw prizes for the audience, ranging from a five-day trip to Australia's Gold Coast to a Giant bicycle – a truly delightful occasion for everyone.

The CEO of H Beverage Company was quite satisfied with the results of the promotional event, and the advertising agency agreement was finally secured. Back at the company, CEO Wang opened a bottle of champagne and toasted his subordinates in turn. On a whim, he drank a toast with Du Yaofeng, drawing cheers from the crowd.

Nono and Ah-hu quietly went upstairs without disturbing their mother. Biff was lying in the hallway. Hearing footsteps, he jumped up and wagged his tail at them, about to bark. Nono patted him, and Biff obediently lay down.

The two went to the bathroom. The towel covering the oil painting had been removed by someone. Zoe, wearing a mask, sat on the windowsill, silently gazing at the world outside the frame.

For some reason, the entire painting is noticeably tilted to the right.

I remember that when I hung it, I used two hooks on the back, so it should be stable. How come it is tilted?

That didn't matter anymore. Just as Nuonuo and Ahu were about to take the painting down, Du Yaofeng appeared at the door with a gloomy expression.

Du Yaofeng first looked at his daughter, and then scrutinized Ahu from head to toe.

In the dead of night, my daughter brought a strange man home. They were acting suspiciously, hiding in the bathroom. What were they planning to do?

"Mommy, let me introduce you. This is Ah Hu, my friend," Nono stammered.

"Good evening, Auntie." Ah Hu nodded nervously.

Du Yaofeng glanced at him, and without any politeness, abruptly asked her daughter, "Did you cover up the painting?"

Nuonuo and Ahu exchanged glances, both agreeing that it was time to speak.

The three of them sat on the living room sofa for nearly an hour. Du Yaofeng maintained the same posture: leaning forward, eyes wide open, ears perked up, breathing rate reduced, and heart rate increased.

Nuonuo took out her phone and showed Du Yaofeng the text message from 13901673693, as well as two messages from Sanwen's phone.

When AK47 was mentioned, Du Yaofeng changed her posture, jumped up, and scolded her daughter for being foolish. She said she must have fallen for someone's trap, that someone had secretly taken photos or recorded videos of her in the bar, and that the other party would send the photos or videos to blackmail her the next day. It seemed Du Yaofeng still didn't believe it, even though it all sounded very real.

Hearing is believing, seeing is believing. Ignoring her daughter's advice, Du Yaofeng decided to see for herself.

The next day at noon, five minutes before noon, Du Yaofeng locked himself in the upstairs bathroom, sat on the edge of the bathtub, and stared intently at the painting.

Nono and Ahu waited patiently in the passageway outside the door, while Biff lay on the ground, wagging his tail listlessly, looking dejected.

Soon, a 40-chord ringtone came from the bathroom, then silence returned.

The door opened, and Du Yaofeng walked out, his legs a little unsteady, his pale cheeks as white as if he had an SK-II mask on.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Du Yaofeng appeared in Mrs. Xu's flower shop in a flurry of activity.

After Xu Guoguang's sudden death, Mrs. Xu sold "Hu Zhe Xiao Chu" at a discounted price. Soon after, on the advice of her old classmate, Mr. Ma, who sold flooring, she opened a flower shop opposite Fuxing Park on Chongqing South Road. The shop wasn't big, but business was quite good. Mrs. Xu hired two assistants: one to handle purchasing, appearing at the nursery in the suburbs before dawn every day, and the other to deliver flowers. She herself tended the shop and answered the phone every day, so she wasn't too tired.

Beforehand, Du Yaofeng spoke with Mrs. Xu on the phone, wanting to see the cell phone that Xu Guoguang used before his death.

After her husband died, the Siemens phone was given to her son, who was in elementary school. Mrs. Xu had her own phone. Hearing that children's brains were not yet fully developed and that cell phone radiation was detrimental to brain development, she took the phone back and left it in a drawer.

Mrs. Xu was a little confused. Why would Du Yaofeng suddenly be interested in her husband's cell phone? Could it be that there were text messages they used to send each other, and the content was extremely cheesy? No matter how cheesy they were, the man was dead, and Mrs. Xu wouldn't be jealous.

Du Yaofeng took the phone from Mrs. Xu, thanked her, and walked out of the store to examine it carefully on the sidewalk, completely ignoring the disdainful looks coming from behind him.

Du Yaofeng found a bunch of messages on his phone. One was "Publicly displaying nudity," identical word for word. The other was very simple, just two words: "Open the door," received at midnight.

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 38: Zoe, wearing a mask, sits on the windowsill.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, "Zoe on the Windowsill" was carefully taken down from the wall, put back in its original protective sleeve—a layer of kraft paper, a layer of plastic, and four stiff corners—and temporarily placed in the upstairs storage room. The storage room was about two square meters in size, with winter clothes hanging on it: down jackets, leather jackets, cashmere coats, stacks of shoe boxes containing various women's shoes that were past their fashion season, an upright vacuum cleaner, and a few other miscellaneous items.

Du Yaofeng placed the painting with its back facing out, against the cabinets, but then thought it wasn't right. He couldn't let it "reflect on its mistakes," so he turned it around and carefully placed the painting there. After making sure it wouldn't fall over, he closed the sliding door. The lights automatically turned off, and the storage room became a pitch-black space, with no light coming in. "Zoe on the Windowsill" stood silently in the darkness.

Ten minutes later, a three-person impromptu meeting was held in the living room, with Biff listening in from under the sofa.

The deaths of Xu Guoguang and Sanwen, and the miraculous survival of his daughter and Ahu, forced Du Yaofeng to accept the following fact:

The situation was already quite critical; the two passenger planes that crashed into the World Trade Center were en route to New York.

She was faced with only two choices: either become a nude model in art class or become a body painting model for "AK47".

With only eight hours left, we need to make a decision quickly.

After Nono spoke with Teacher Park on the phone, the first option was deleted because there were no classes that night.

Mr. Q was once again baffled when he received Nono's apologetic call. He thought Nono would suggest doing it again, which would have been great for him. However, to his surprise, Nono recommended another person and repeatedly emphasized how well this person maintained his figure and how fair his skin was, adding that he was only slightly older than him.

Girls these days are getting harder and harder to understand. Has she changed careers and become an agent for body painting models?

Despite thinking this to himself, Mr. Q still said in a friendly tone, "Okay, bring the person here so I can take a look before making a decision."

When Mr. Q saw Du Yaofeng, he was startled. He had thought she was at most a woman in her late twenties or early thirties, but she turned out to be a middle-aged woman in her forties.

Fortunately, Du Yaofeng consistently went to the gym for aerobics and swam once a week, so she maintained a good figure and didn't go too far out of shape. Mr. Q hesitated for a moment before nodding, but he made a demanding request:

The body painting process has been moved from behind the scenes to the forefront, right in the center of the bar, allowing customers to watch the entire process.

This means that the models must stand naked in the bar, with every inch of their skin exposed to the public eye, without any color covering. The whole process takes at least two or three hours, which is quite long.

"One hundred yuan per hour, three hundred yuan for three hours, how about it?"

Mr. Q looked at Du Yaofeng with a firm tone, leaving no room for negotiation.

"In addition, you must pay a deposit of five hundred yuan. If you leave early, I will not only not pay you your reward, but I will also deduct your deposit."

Once bitten, twice shy; Mr. Q became smarter.

Du Yaofeng felt like crying but had no tears. How could I, who was perfectly fine, have fallen to such a state?

Even prostitutes don't pay a deposit!

After 10 p.m., there were no empty seats in AK47, not only because it was the weekend, but also because the body painting here had become famous, and many people came from far and wide.

Starting at ten o'clock, two regular models appeared first, showcasing their body paint. One had a koi fish painted on the front and a mangosteen painting on the back, while the other had an abstract painting of "Fire Dance in the Sun" painted all over her body. To the rhythm of the music, the models swayed their bodies, the flames on their bodies dancing, creating a sexually suggestive atmosphere and building up the mood. Then Mr. Q himself went on stage, took the microphone, and recited a passage he had memorized from a book:

"Body painting artists fully utilize the limited space of the human body, using their skillful brushstrokes to unleash their artistic spirit from all angles, elevating the beauty of the human form and the splendor of the painting to a harmonious and sublime state. For viewers, it requires a healthy aesthetic sense, exploration of one's own cultural background, and the spreading of imagination to appreciate the grace of the human body and the vibrant colors of the painting, experiencing the unified essence of humanistic spirit. To help everyone better understand this emerging art form, the entire body painting process has been moved from behind the scenes to the forefront, presented in its entirety."

Nono reserved a bar stool inside the bar, partly because she was worried, and partly because Du Yaofeng felt guilty and wanted his daughter present. Ahu, however, wasn't so lucky; he and Biff had to stay outside. Nono repeatedly warned them, "Don't come in! Don't peek at my mommy's naked body!"

Hmph, who wants to see that?

Ah Hu muttered to himself.

If it were your naked body, I'd really like to see it...

Mr. Q retreated behind the bar. The lights changed, becoming brighter than before. The body painter came out first, carrying a toolbox, smoking a cigarette, looking nonchalant. Then the model appeared, her head down, wrapped in a dark robe and wearing a hooded robe. To an unsuspecting person, it would look like a boxing match was about to take place, with the boxers entering the ring.

Nono looked around at the crowd several times, worried that she might recognize someone, but thankfully there wasn't.

Most of the guests were men, craning their necks, leaning forward, their faces full of anticipation, hoping to see more clearly, wishing they could add ten fluorescent lights. How much "cultural depth" could one possibly glean from them? It was more likely that something below was about to spill out.

"You son of a bitch" stubbed out his cigarette, opened his toolbox, took out paintbrushes and paints, turned his baseball cap back on, looked at Du Yaofeng, and waited for her to take off her robe.

Everyone's eyes were on Du Yaofeng, including Mr. Q's sharp gaze behind the bar, whose five hundred yuan deposit was in his pocket.

Du Yaofeng gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and decided to go all out!

It's just taking your time being naked.

I was born naked.

I was naked while lying on the operating table during childbirth.

Jesus, nailed to the cross, was also naked.

Taking a shower naked, having sex naked, the trend of sleeping naked, and countless times standing in front of the mirror admiring one's own naked body...

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 39: I was born naked.

Thinking this way, Du Yaofeng felt much more at ease. She grasped the belt of her robe and gently tugged at it, loosening the ribbon tied into a bow and pulling it out into a graceful straight line...

Boom!

Everyone present felt a powerful sense of awe, but this aura did not come from the belt; rather, it came from the metal door of the bar.

The door was flung open, overturning a table and shattering beer bottles and cocktail glasses on the floor. Five or six men in police uniforms stormed in, brandishing batons and shouting, "We are from the Huangpu District Public Security Bureau's Security Squadron, here to shut down this brothel! Everyone put your hands on your heads and squat down! Nobody move!"

"Squat down! Squat down! I told you to squat down! Didn't you hear me?"

A few who were not convinced either received a slap on the head or a "secret recipe ham" kick in the buttocks.

The paint box was kicked over, scattering brushes and paints all over the ground. Just as the "son of a bitch" jumped up, a police baton was thrust at him, poking him right into the bridge of his nose.

"Behave yourself and squat down!"

Intimidated by the police baton, the "son of a bitch" obediently squatted down.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Du Yaofeng fastened the belt on his robe, glanced back at his daughter, Nuonuo, who was squatting on the ground with her hands covering her head, not daring to look any longer. Mr. Q was squatting behind the bar and couldn't see her at all.

AK47's booming business attracted the envy of several bar owners in the vicinity, and an anonymous tip-off letter was dropped into the police-community contact box hanging at the entrance of the police station.

Under the guise of art, openly holding pornographic performances is not only immoral but also undermines the construction of socialist spiritual civilization. The public security squadron could not sit idly by. Several days ago, they sent plainclothes officers to infiltrate the bar and secretly gather evidence, deciding to launch a surprise raid on the busiest weekend night to dismantle this brothel.

The bar owner, the body painter, and the model were taken to the police station. Mr. Q dejectedly signed the "Bar Closure Notice," and the "son of a bitch" was fined 500 yuan. As for Du Yaofeng, an officer from the public security squad gave her a reprimand.

"Ma'am, you're not young anymore, and you're still doing this kind of thing in a bar. What would your children think if they found out?"

They support me 100%...

Du Yaofeng answered in his heart.

Do you have a job?

Of course, Du Yaofeng couldn't say that he was unemployed and was receiving a minimum living allowance every month.

"So you're a '4050' type?" (Note: This is a general term used by the government to refer to unemployed women over 40 and men over 50.)

"The government has introduced employment support policies. You can learn a skill and find a decent job. Why do you have to go to a place like that and strip naked?"

Officer, if you've got the guts, come to my house tomorrow at noon. I've shown you that painting; I guarantee you'll be so anxious you'll be running naked through the street...

Du Yaofeng silently mocked the other party in his heart, without uttering a single word.

Given that he had no prior criminal record and was a first-time offender, Du Yaofeng received the lightest punishment—education and release.

Du Yaofeng left the police station in a hurry, still wearing the robe. He had left the clothes in AK47's studio and didn't bother to go back and get them.

The POLO was parked in front of the police station. Ah Hu, Nuonuo, and Biff were inside. Du Yaofeng climbed into the car without saying a word and first checked the time on the dashboard: 11:45 PM.

"Where's the nearest disco?" Du Yaofeng asked them.

Just as the police officer was patiently explaining the situation, Du Yaofeng had a flash of inspiration and came up with an emergency solution that could be quickly resolved in the remaining 15 minutes.

Less than 100 meters from AK47 is a HOPDisco. It's almost midnight, and while people who normally go to work are already asleep, the nightlife here is just getting into full swing. Led by DJs and strippers, people hop around like kangaroos. There are all sorts of people: drug addicts, drug dealers, pimps, bored people, thrill-seekers, and more. It's a veritable chaotic scene.