51st oil painting

Chapter 21

Pu Hongming roared, and just as he finished speaking, his cell phone rang.

Damn it! Who would call at this hour? My wife? No way, I told her I had a mission tonight, she wouldn't call...

The ringing stopped; it wasn't an incoming call, but a text message.

Pu Hongming remained highly vigilant, avoiding touching his phone, even text messages from the mayor.

Unexpectedly, Zoe made a small gesture towards him, pointing to his pocket.

What does that mean? Does she want me to read the text message? Pu Hongming held the gun in his right hand, slowly reached into his pocket with his left, took out his phone, and read the text message, which contained only two words:

"Open the door"

The other party's number is 13901673693.

Oh, she wants me to open the gate in the iron fence and let her out, haha!! Does she think I'm a fool?

Pu Hongming sneered, put his phone back in his pocket, and maintained his shooting posture.

Zoe made a second, subtle move: she took off her mask.

At noon, the naked Zoe was quite charming, but now she was different. Her face was pale, bloodless, and expressionless. There was a bluish patch under each eye, as if she hadn't slept enough. The only thing that remained unchanged was her eyes, which were coldly staring at Pu Hongming.

She took another step forward, her body almost touching the iron fence.

Pu Hongming clearly felt a surge of energy, as if he were standing in front of a giant vacuum cleaner with the nozzle pointed at him, as if his internal organs were about to be sucked out. He could barely hold onto his tightly gripped pistol.

Is she channeling her power into herself?

Pu Hongming chose to shoot without hesitation, steadily pulling the trigger. Little did he expect that the Type 64 pistol that had been with him for more than ten years would jam at the crucial moment.

What happened? I maintain this gun regularly, and I even test-fired it a few days ago. It shouldn't be jamming.

Pu Hongming was getting impatient, fiddling with the gun and trying to fix the malfunction. Zoe, behind the iron bars, actually smiled, revealing a set of teeth. A dentist's teeth are absolutely reliable; they were so neat and white, gleaming faintly under the incandescent light of the interrogation room.

This is mockery.

Enraged, Pu Hongming slammed his pistol to the ground. With a thud, the pistol bounced up, automatically rotating 720 degrees as it ascended, the muzzle pointing directly at Pu Hongming.

Bang!

It actually fired, the bullet piercing Pu Hongming's right knee and shattering his knee joint. At the same time, a spent cartridge case ejected.

Pu Hongming's right leg buckled, and he collapsed to his knees...

"Ms. Du, this painting is yours, isn't it? Now it's being returned to its rightful owner."

The oil painting, numbered 051, was perfectly preserved in its protective sleeve and placed at the foot of the coffee table. The mother, daughter, and Ahu sat on the living room sofa, gazing at the painting that had "risen from the ashes," completely bewildered.

"My surname is Lin, and I'm Pu Hongming's colleague. Unfortunately, Detective Pu was injured, and he asked me to return this painting to you."

After Detective Lin left, the living room remained completely silent for more than ten minutes.

Biff, who had been lying behind the sofa, suddenly sat up, stared at the door, and barked loudly. The barking had barely stopped when the doorbell rang.

Du Yaofeng went to open the door, and there stood a person on the steps outside. He wore glasses, his hair was neatly combed, and he was very polite.

Du Yaofeng didn't recognize him and asked, "Who are you looking for?"

The other person calmly pulled out a business card: "My surname is Chen, Chen Ziqi, former director of the S Art Museum."

At that time, Director Chen witnessed the changes in the painting in his study. After receiving the text message, he locked himself in his study for three whole hours, thinking about how to deal with it: should he treat it as a joke, a carefully disguised prank, or take it seriously?

This is no joke; the former risks his life, while the latter could ruin his reputation.

Suddenly, he recalled what a fortune teller had told him when he went to burn incense at the City God Temple in Yu Garden during the Spring Festival this year: "Sir, please forgive my bluntness, but you may face a great calamity this year. If you wish to avoid it, you must make some sacrifices and give up some things."

With this thought in mind, Director Chen suddenly understood, and he made his decision. What was he going to give up? Nothing more than fame and fortune, those external things.

Even when it comes to stripping naked, there are different ways to do it. He is the director of the S Art Museum, a highly respected expert and scholar in the art world. He can't act like a performance artist. He is not Picasso or Li Ao. If they stripped naked in public, they would be applauded and might even rake in a global broadcast fee.

After much deliberation, Director Chen decided to feign madness. Of all the ways to strip naked, this was the safest option, or rather, the one least likely to attract criticism; on the contrary, it would garner a lot of sympathy.

"My God, has Director Chen really gone mad?"

"If he weren't crazy, how could he do something like this?"

"It's unbelievable, everything was fine yesterday."

"Poor Director Chen, he must be under too much work pressure. We should have done more for him and helped him share the burden."

But to his surprise, from the moment he started streaking, the number of people gloating far outweighed those who sympathized with him. Rumors of teacher-student relationships, cuckoldry, homosexuality, exhibitionism, and even being called gay flooded the internet, with almost everyone coming up with a completely new version of the story.

His wife filed for divorce, his son sued his stepmother, his bank safe deposit box was opened and inventoried, and all his treasured possessions were auctioned off. Now, he has lost his house, his car, his savings, and his reputation is ruined. He feels like a baby who has been born naked.

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 48: More people gloat than sympathize.

With his "condition" stabilizing, Director Chen was finally allowed to leave the mental hospital, but he was now homeless. His second ex-wife, who was also a woman of forty-one, had already found a new suitor, an Anhui native who owned a decoration company. He helped her renovate the house, completely transforming Director Chen's study into an audiovisual room, equipped with high-end audio equipment and a home theater.

Director Chen was temporarily staying at his first ex-wife's house, sleeping on a sofa bed, as he felt too embarrassed to go into her bedroom. After some effort, Director Chen found out Du Yaofeng's address from the auction house and went to pay her a visit.

During his time in the mental hospital, Director Chen kept thinking about one question:

Could this Zoe actually be a real person?

If she truly existed, then it's very likely she's no longer in this world; that is, she's passed away. Her soul, or rather her ghost, is attached to this painting, which is why it produces this effect.

This painting appeared in Exhibition Area C on the second floor of the S Art Museum. It was noon on the last day of Mr. M's solo exhibition. This day was the day she returned to the world from the underworld, which could also be said to be her other "birthday". This day must have special significance.

With Du Yaofeng's consent, Director Chen removed the protective cover and admired the painting again.

A new question arose in Director Chen's mind: What was the woman's motive for returning to this world in such a peculiar way? Was she taking pleasure in killing, or did she have other intentions, amidst round after round of death games?

"Director Chen..." Ah Hu asked softly, "I've noticed that this painting keeps tilting to the right, even when it's hung on two hooks. Why is that?"

Director Chen pointed to the painting and asked rhetorically, "Look at her, is she on the left or right side of the painting?"

On the left side of the painting is an examination chair, and on the right side is a windowsill, with Zoe wearing a mask sitting on the windowsill.

"Of course, it's the right side."

"You've already given the answer; her ghost is attached to the right half of the painting, which inevitably adds some weight."

"Looks like her lightness skill isn't quite up to par yet..." Ah Hu joked, but no one responded.

"This is the first time in my life I've ever met a ghost face to face," Nono exclaimed.

"It wasn't just face to face, it was almost like we brushed past each other," Ah Hu corrected.

While answering Ah Hu's question, Director Chen suddenly had a completely new realization:

Today, the four of us survivors are sitting here having a lively discussion and communicating with each other—that is her purpose.

What the four of us are about to do is exactly what she wanted.

She is guiding us.

The four-person meeting lasted from morning until afternoon, and lunch was ordered as takeout.

As the discussion deepened, several key issues began to emerge.

First, regarding the text message—"You've finally seen my naked body. For the next twelve hours, you must publicly display your naked body, or you will face misfortune"—who exactly does "you" refer to? It could be interpreted as all the witnesses, including the deceased Xu Guoguang, Sanwen, and Boss Wang, as well as the four survivors. Alternatively, it could be a general term referring to everyone around Zoe during her lifetime: friends, family, colleagues…

Also, the word "finally" is a bit weird, as if there was a group of people who had been fantasizing about and eagerly hoping to see Zoe naked, and now their wish has finally come true.

Secondly, regarding the Chinese woman in the painting, Zoe is undoubtedly her English name, but what is her Chinese name?

Du Yaofeng pointed out that girls with the English name Zoe are not common, unlike Jenny, Vivian, Mary, Shirley, Monica, Anna, who are so prevalent that almost every office building has several girls with the same English name.

Third, regarding the oil painting "Zoe on the Windowsill," Director Chen believes that it is very likely that it actually exists, meaning that such an oil painting does indeed exist.

Director Chen's viewpoint drew opposition from the three, who all shared the same reasoning: Zoe's ghost was attached to the canvas, creating the visual effect of an oil painting. When Zoe left, the canvas was blank, which was the best proof. Therefore, the painting didn't exist; it was merely an optical illusion.

"No, no, please be patient."

Director Chen swallowed hard to moisten his dry throat, but it didn't help. He had no choice but to pick up his Pepsi, which he didn't like, and take a sip.

"What I mean is, there was such an oil painting—listen carefully, 'there was'—it existed, but it's gone now. Judging by a professional art perspective, the technique was superb; the artist must have had at least a decade of experience. Our Zoe, on the other hand, is just a dentist. Where would she get such excellent painting skills?"

"It's hard to say..." Ah Hu muttered.

"Perhaps what people can't do in life, they can easily do after death. A doctor in life might become an athlete, an artist, or a great lawyer after death."

Ah Hu's words also make sense. How could Zoe, a weak woman, easily kill several strong men?

Du Yaofeng felt that such a debate was largely meaningless. Whether the painting actually existed or was merely a visual illusion was irrelevant; it was worth investigating as a clue. If, as Director Chen said, such a painting did exist, then someone else must have seen it. Following this clue, they could find the original artist, who would certainly have known Zoe, since Zoe was the model in his paintings. They could learn about Zoe's life from him.

Director Chen volunteered to take on this task. His idea was to first photograph the painting with a digital camera and then, through his friends, post it on a specialized art website to widely solicit clues.

Just as they were having a heated discussion, "Zoe on the Windowsill" stood quietly in a corner of the living room, its eyes, visible outside its mask, watching them intently.

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 49: A Pale Canvas

While in the mental hospital, he found two books on ghost studies in the library, studied them diligently, and mastered two basic facts:

Midnight is the time of day when ghostly energy is at its strongest.

Film, tape, and videotape are all ineffective against ghosts; they cannot record the existence of ghosts.

At the time, when Director Chen was watching the surveillance video of exhibition area C on the second floor of the art museum, he did see the painting hanging on the wall in the video. How can this be explained?

If Director Chen had seen a pale canvas instead, he would have been greatly surprised and doubted the painting, and might have even moved it out of his study, which would have affected the entire process.

It is evident that Zoe in the painting is in complete control of everything; this female dentist, wearing a mask and sitting on the windowsill, remains completely unassuming.

Director Chen was reminded of Sadako from "The Ring." Sadako could transform her thoughts into images and project them onto a videotape; her "power" was immense. Now it seemed Zoe was on par with Sadako. If a "China-Japan Ghost Contest" were held, it was hard to say who would win.

It seems there's only one clumsy way: to make a complete copy of the painting, take a picture of it, and then post it online.

Director Chen found a college student majoring in oil painting at an art academy, but the student refused the payment offered by Director Chen and instead copied the painting for free. It must have been Director Chen's prestige that impressed him.

The copying work lasted for several days. The studio was Nuonuo's room. Every day before noon, Director Chen would call the students down from upstairs for lunch, which moved the students very much. Director Chen must be very particular about health preservation because the meals were always on time.

These past few days, Du Yaofeng, Nuonuo, and Ahu have been busy, splitting into two groups and each doing their own thing.

Through China Mobile Shanghai, Du Yaofeng is searching for the owner of the mobile phone number 13901673693. If this number was used by Zoe before her death, she can obtain her real name, including her home address, which is required for monthly bill delivery.

Through internal connections, Du Yaofeng obtained a computer-printed bill without much trouble. The bill listed a user named "Hong Bentao," who appeared to be male, with the address as Room 404, No. 8, Lane 273, Dezhou Road, Pudong New Area.

Dezhou New Village is a residential area built in the 1980s. Back then, everything was called a "new village," unlike now where they are all called "communities." The buildings were all six stories high, like matchboxes, row upon row, which some jokingly called "barracks." Each floor of the "barracks" had four households, divided into two types: straight suites and horizontal suites. The disadvantage of the horizontal suites was that the kitchen windows faced the corridor, and anyone passing by could easily smell or even see what was cooking in the kitchen, lacking privacy. The straight suites, on the other hand, only had one door facing the corridor, and there was a small half-square-meter space in front of the door where you could put a simple shoe cabinet. Of course, you couldn't put any brand-name shoes there, otherwise they would disappear in the blink of an eye, leaving you furious and helpless.

Room 404 was a suite, and the door was covered in dust. When Du Yaofeng knocked on the door, he had a premonition that no one lived inside.

Sure enough, after knocking for a while, an old woman from room 403 next door opened the door. She waved to Du Yaofeng and said in a Ningbo accent, "Don't knock anymore, no one lives there. It's been empty for over a year."