Famine

Chapitre 9

"How come I didn't hear that?"

Judging from the way you were just now, you wouldn't have heard a clap of thunder...

Nono wanted to make sarcastic remarks to him, but she swallowed the words back, not wanting to hurt his pride.

Was that voice male or female?

Sanwen asked this question deliberately, hoping to find a flaw in her answer.

"Male."

Have you heard this sound before?

Nono nodded.

Are you sure?

"Of course we can be sure, because he is..."

Nono softly uttered the last few words: "My dad."

Sanwen couldn't help but gasp. She remembered Nuonuo telling her that her father's name was Qiao Ming and that he had died last year.

The tent's roll-up door was never opened again, and the travel lamp was turned off. The two of them crawled into their sleeping bags.

Sanwen wrapped himself tightly in his sleeping bag, and the desire he had just felt vanished without a trace.

If you don't want me to touch you, why don't you just say so? Why try to scare me with dead people!

In the dead of night, on this desolate mountain, I'd be scared to death!

Nono's arms were sticking out of her sleeping bag, crossed under her head, her eyes wide open, staring blankly at the top of the tent, wide awake.

Was I hallucinating?

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 21: Nestlé Coffee Locked in Chains

H Beverage Company launched a new brand of mineral water, and N Advertising Company handled its advertising business. Planning meetings were held one after another, and faced with a mountain of creative proposals, General Manager Wang put forward his own idea:

The advertising positioning of mineral water focuses on the concepts of health and purity.

A giant block of ice, weighing one ton and transported from Antarctica, is placed in a clean, specialized container. The ice slowly melts and drips into a cup through the container's pipes.

This enormous block of ice was placed in the plaza of a large shopping mall, where every visitor could enjoy a free cup of pure, unpolluted ice water from Antarctica.

Our brand of mineral water is sourced from Antarctica, with every drop made from melted ice, and we are committed to providing drinkers with 100% health and purity.

Sure enough, this bold idea won widespread praise.

Mr. Wang was quite pleased with himself. In fact, only he could have come up with such an idea.

Mr. Wang is an absolute ice lover. He adds ice to any liquid that goes into his mouth, whether it's coffee, red wine, green tea, black tea, cola, drinking water, beer, or whiskey. If he weren't worried about the strange looks from the waiters, he would even add some ice to his ginseng and black chicken soup.

Some have raised objections, pointing out that transporting a piece of ice from Antarctica would require renting a Hercules military transport plane from Chile, the country closest to Antarctica, as well as an icebreaker to harvest the ice and transport it by plane across the Pacific Ocean to Shanghai's airport. The cost of this would be staggering once calculated.

Assuming the ice on display weighs one ton, then at least two tons of ice would need to be collected, because it would start melting during transport. Let's avoid a farcical situation where a room-sized block of ice arrives in Shanghai only the size of a fist.

Mr. Wang couldn't help but laugh, "Who told you to actually go to Antarctica to collect ice? You idiot!"

A ton of ice can be made by any ice factory. Who would drink a glass of such ice water and then loudly proclaim:

I've drunk Antarctic ice water, and it doesn't taste like this! They're faking it!

Once it was pointed out, everyone laughed, and a flurry of praise followed:

Mr. Wang truly lives up to his reputation as an advertising professional, having grasped the essence of advertising.

The client, H Beverage Company, will certainly be satisfied.

Print and television ads followed this approach, vigorously promoting the brand's mineral water as truly sourced from Antarctica and completely free of pollution.

Mr. Wang noticed something strange: Du Yaofeng, who was usually very active, was acting out of character today, fiddling with his ballpoint pen and looking preoccupied.

"Yaofeng, what's wrong with you today? Are you feeling unwell?" Mr. Wang asked her.

All eyes turned to Du Yaofeng.

Du Yaofeng nodded and said in a low voice:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wang, a friend of mine has suddenly passed away. He was also a client of our company."

"Oh! Who is he?"

"His name is Xu Guoguang, and he owns a restaurant called Hu Zhe Xiao Chu."

Mr. Wang remembered that Du Yaofeng had treated him to a meal at that restaurant last Mid-Autumn Festival. The food there had left a deep impression on him, especially the signature dish called Douban Xueyu Su, which still left a lingering fragrance on his palate.

"Let's send a flower basket on behalf of the company to express our condolences to the family."

"Thank you, Mr. Wang, I will take care of it." Du Yaofeng's voice was slightly hoarse.

After Xu Guoguang's death, Mrs. Xu, who knew nothing about restaurant management, had no choice but to sell Hu Zhe Xiao Chu at a discounted price.

The man who took over the business was from Shanghai. He had worked in Japan, and according to him, Japanese stores were a paradise for thieves. They were incredibly large, overflowing with goods, yet had very few salespeople. You could have unpaid items in your pocket, and the salespeople would politely bow and greet you with "Arigato," hoping you'd come back. Unlike here, where even a bottle of Nescafé on a supermarket shelf is chained up. So, this man quit his job washing dishes in a restaurant and plunged into the store, working hard and cleverly, stealing everything from batteries to skis. He made his first fortune, returned to Shanghai in high spirits, and started a legitimate business.

Not long ago, he discovered a pickpocket stealing from someone's pocket on a bus. He bravely got off the bus and chased after the thief for over a hundred meters, finally capturing the thief along with the stolen goods. For this, he received a certificate of honor as a "Good Samaritan".

This gentleman made sweeping changes to Hu Zhe Xiao Chu, renovating it into a Japanese-style barbecue restaurant, removing all the original decorations and returning them to Mrs. Xu.

They're definitely from Japan; they're very wealthy and powerful.

This was the first time Du Yaofeng had stepped into this house since Xu Guoguang's funeral. Mrs. Xu had invited her; besides Mrs. Xu and her son, her classmate from Jinhua—Mr. Ma, who sold flooring—was also there.

The two women exchanged pleasantries, nothing more than expressions of sorrow and concern for each other's health, urging them to take care of themselves and remember that a brighter future awaits. Mrs. Xu then spoke at length about how grateful she was to Mrs. Xu for her husband's guidance and care during his lifetime, expressing her deepest gratitude and promising that he would surely bless her if he were watching over her. Finally, Mrs. Xu said:

Did you ever give Guoguang an oil painting that you bought from an auction house and hung in a private room of the restaurant? Now the restaurant has been transferred, and I've taken the painting back, returning it to its rightful owner.

Following the direction of her finger, in the corner, there was a painting wrapped neatly in kraft paper and plastic wrap. The packaging had four hard corners, and was stamped with the S Art Museum's official seal and the number 051.

An hour later, the painting arrived at Du Yaofeng's home.

In just one week, it moved from the second-floor C exhibition area of the S Art Museum, to Director Chen's study, to the private room of Hu Zhe Xiao Chu, and finally settled in its fourth new home.

On the way back, Du Yaofeng pondered where to hang the painting. Logically, the living room would be more suitable, but there was already a tapestry hanging there, a pure wool, handmade piece that her husband had carried back from Xinjiang; it was his most cherished possession. After much deliberation, Du Yaofeng decided to hang the painting in the upstairs bathroom.

The bathroom fixtures were all off-white, the wall tiles were an unusual off-white with a fine floral pattern, and the floor tiles were light green. Du Yaofeng hated dim lighting in the bathroom; she needed it bright. Moreover, Du Yaofeng was a clean freak, and with white tiles, even the slightest dirt was clearly visible. So her daughter criticized her: "It doesn't look like a bathroom; it looks like a morgue."

Oil painting No. 51: 773 Horror Series 13

Section 22: Something's happened, something really bad has happened.

Du Yaofeng drilled holes in the tiles himself. Because he was worried that the picture frame wouldn't be able to support the weight, he installed two hooks and hung the painting on the west wall, right in front of the bathtub.

"Mommy, why are you hanging such a big oil painting in the bathroom? Aren't you afraid people will say you have no taste? Like a nouveau riche."

Nuonuo munched on a snake fruit, mumbling incoherently about Du Yaofeng.

"What do you know? This place is all empty; hanging small things here would just make it look cheap. What difference does it make where you hang a painting worth over four thousand yuan?"

Du Yaofeng answered casually that a mere four thousand yuan for an oil painting is nothing in the eyes of a collector.

What is the name of this painting?

"It's written in the bottom left corner, see for yourself."

"Zoe on the Windowsill...what a weird name."

Nono's gaze swept along the edge of the canvas, then she asked, "Who painted this?"

"An anonymous masterpiece; the artist forgot to sign it."

"How could such a thing happen?" Nono studied the painting for a long time before asking the same question as the others:

"Mommy, why is this person wearing a mask?"

"Oh dear! You ask so many questions. How would Mommy know? You should ask the artist himself."

After a pause, Du Yaofeng began to interrogate her daughter: "You seem to have developed an interest in painting lately?"

Nono was a little confused.

"While you were away, I received a phone call from a man named Park. I asked him where he was from, and he said he was a painting teacher and wanted to inform you to attend class at 8 PM tomorrow."

Nono's cheeks flushed slightly. Oh no, how could he have called the house? I only gave him my mobile number.

To save money, Nono set up call forwarding on her phone, forwarding calls to her home landline. She must have forgotten to cancel it when she went out; what an accident.

"Yes, I'm learning to paint..." Nono said evasively and went back to her room.

"If your painting skills can reach the level of this 'Zoe on the Windowsill,' you won't need to be a part-time worker anymore; you can be a professional painter, and Mommy will be your agent!"

Du Yaofeng shouted at his daughter's retreating figure, but in his heart he was thinking, "Why doesn't she learn advertising illustration? There's someone in the company who switched jobs, and her salary is higher than mine."

Something terrible has happened. It's a huge disaster.

Ah Hu got a beating from Sanwenhai.

The incident started with Ah Hu, who came to Starbucks several times to see Nuonuo, clearly wanting to pursue her. Nuonuo told him plainly that she already had a boyfriend named Sanwen.

Ah-hu was sitting in the Manabe Cafe next door, waiting for Nono to get off work, when he saw San-wen arrive on his motorcycle to pick up Nono.

Ah Hu, driven by an inexplicable stubbornness, decided to compete with Sanwen.

It was this stubbornness that gave Ah Hu the right to sit down with world-class bathroom manufacturers like TOTO, American Standard, and Kohler to discuss the patent transfer of "female upright urinals".

The following data can simply illustrate the comparison of their abilities:

In terms of physique, Sanwen weighs 70 kg and is 180 cm tall, making him suitable as a male model; Ah Hu is the opposite, weighing 80 kg and standing at 170 cm tall, resembling a teapot.

In terms of monthly salary, Sanwen earns eight thousand yuan, which is considered upper-middle class in Shanghai. Ahu's income is very unstable. If "female standing urinals" could be widely used in public restrooms around the world, Ahu would definitely become a millionaire. But for now, Ahu still relies on his parents for financial support.

That day, Sanwen was off work and playing computer games at home.

"Beep beep...beep beep..." The buzzer of the video intercom went off.

Woof woof woof! Biff, the English hunting dog who was sleeping on the carpet, suddenly sat up halfway and barked alertly.

This is one of the benefits of owning a hunting dog. Whenever someone rings the doorbell downstairs or knocks on the door upstairs, Biff becomes extremely alert and barks incessantly. At six months old, Biff can lick Sam's chin with a single paw. It's said that these hunting dogs can grow to 40 kilograms. With one, the family's safety is absolutely guaranteed.

Sanwen walked into the lobby, picked up the microphone, and an unfamiliar face appeared on the LCD screen.

Who are you looking for?

Sanwen didn't recognize him and thought he was a salesman.

"You're Sanwen, right?"