Второй тип смерти - Глава 6

Глава 6

During the day, the curtains are rolled up; at night, they are drawn down.

As the curtains rise and fall, music dances in the darkness.

Suddenly it seemed to stand still, yet it continued its ceaseless flow.

In the rush of life

Looking back suddenly, all the past events

Instantly turned into a warm current

Every night is a dream, and you are in all my dreams...

"Selling piglets! Selling piglets! Haha!"

We made a few rustling noises ahead, then stopped. We were almost out of the area with the bungalows; there was only one more house left. Zhu Qingyuan put me down from his back. We thought it was just a dog or cat moving around and didn't think much of it. As we got closer, I used my phone as a flashlight, and Zhu Qingyuan took it and shone it on the thing to see what it was. That shone something, and immediately a dark, indistinct thing appeared. "Ah, a ghost!" I screamed, terrified, and burrowed into Zhu Qingyuan's arms. I could see the ghost clearly—it was as tall as me, completely black, with no face clearly visible, only two gleaming eyes!

Hearing my shout, the black man darted out and ran past us, heading north. "Thief! Someone's stealing coal briquettes!" Zhu Qingyuan waved his phone's flashlight at the man a few times, reassuring me, "Don't be afraid, it's not a ghost, just a thief stealing coal briquettes. Let's chase after him." So, we hurried north, Zhu Qingyuan still shouting, "Thief! Thief!" But I was wearing high heels today, and I could only run for a short distance before I couldn't run anymore, so I slowly walked.

People came out of the bungalows behind us, but they didn't chase after us; they just kept talking. We ignored them and walked a bit further before turning right onto a gravel path. We were almost home. Zhu Qingyuan was fine, but I was a little tired and wanted to rest. Zhu Qingyuan advised me to walk a little further and rest at the entrance, which I thought was a good idea.

The thief ran north, probably scared half to death; a guilty conscience needs no accuser. After that, there was no more sound, so we leisurely walked to the mansion entrance. Strange, the lights were out so early tonight. It was only a little past 9 pm; the moon was like a curved blade, not very bright, but we could roughly make out the road and the shadows of the trees.

We were already at our doorstep, and with the big pig around, there was nothing to be afraid of. We sat down on the lawn by the door and rested for a while. I snuggled up to the big pig, looking at the fuzzy moon in the sky; it was very cozy, but unfortunately, there were no stars to count.

My breathing had calmed down, and I felt much more at ease. Timid people take everything seriously, and several things that happened today had given me quite a fright. First, there was the "mad killing" incident at Starbucks—thankfully it was fake, but it was still damn scary, I cursed inwardly. Just now, I thought that thief was a black man, and I don't know where I got the courage, but I actually dared to chase after Zhu Qingyuan for a while. It seems I've improved quite a bit, and I felt a little smug.

The summer night sky was filled with the chirping of insects, a cacophony of sounds blending into a beautiful song. We were so engrossed in gazing at the sky that we didn't look around. After a long while, we grew tired and lowered our heads. In the distance, I saw a shadow, entirely white, silently approaching us. I grabbed Zhu Qingyuan and pointed in that direction.

The white shadow was right on our way here. I didn't dare look closely; in my hazy vision, it seemed like a walking corpse—it was terrifying. I had a bad feeling. How could there be a white ghost here? Could it be that the thief from earlier had put a white shirt on us to scare us? Just as the white shadow was a few steps away from us, Zhu Qingyuan pulled me up and abruptly stood up, startling the white ghost into taking a step back…

twenty three. naked eye painting

Soon, the white ghost stopped and said, "Oh, it's you guys. Why don't you go in? You scared me."

When I heard the voice, I realized it was Yang Kai. Why did he go out tonight? I thought I had encountered a ghost again, but it seems I was just overthinking it.

"Zi'er went to my company after her interview today. We had some food together, so I came back late," Zhu Qingyuan explained.

"Also, on our way back just now, we ran into a thief, so we mistook you for him... and we were startled by you too."

"Oh, I went to a friend's event today, and he drove me here. I didn't expect you to be sitting here. Are you all alright? Please come in."

Once inside, under the light, we realized Yang Kai wasn't entirely dressed in white; his upper body was white, while his lower body was yellow. Apparently, under the moonlight, even the yellow appeared white, which explained why we had misjudged him. Just as we were about to go upstairs, Yang Kai added, "Don't forget, you have voluntary labor tomorrow." Of course, he meant being his model.

Having been frightened several times in a row, I didn't sleep well that night. Zhu Qingyuan was probably too tired from a week's work; he slept soundly and was snoring. I endured the big pig's snoring, listened to the chirping of insects outside, and the occasional hooting of owls, drifting in and out of sleep.

The next day, when the sun was already high in the sky, Zhu Qingyuan woke me up, saying, "Get up quickly, Teacher Yang might be waiting for you."

Oh, I quickly got up, checked my watch and it was already 9 o'clock. I hurriedly washed up and went downstairs.

Yang Kai was already prepared and waiting for me. I went straight to the chair and sat down, getting into position. This time there was no TV, and I sat facing Yang Kai. He said, "Sorry, I specifically painted your eyes today, so you can't watch TV." He glanced at my eyes, "What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well last night? They're bloodshot."

"Oh, it's nothing. I was a little scared yesterday and didn't sleep well all night, so I'm sorry I overslept."

"Ah, I'm so sorry to have startled you like that. But the look in your eyes today is exactly what I've been longing for; it's very beneficial to my creative process!" I had more to say, but when I heard him say it was beneficial, I swallowed my words. Artists are so strange. Last week, he said he hadn't found any inspiration, but this time, my eyes, filled with melancholy and fear, are exactly what he likes. I won't think about it anymore; I'll just finish this "lesson" and get through this voluntary work.

Once the formal work began, we stopped talking. I also performed much better than last time; my body wasn't as itchy anymore. Yang Kai, on the other hand, was focused. He would glance at me, then doodle on his drawing board for a while; sometimes he would stare straight into my eyes for half a minute, deep in thought, before returning to his drawing; sometimes, after looking at my eyes, he would prop his chin up and ponder for a while before going back to drawing. I figured out his pattern, so I just moved my neck and back a little. After all, he was only drawing eyes; the rest of his body could move.

After persisting for over an hour, Yang Kai called it a day. I still wanted to see his paintings, and this time he didn't say anything, just showed them to me directly. Because you can never guess what an artist will paint, having learned from my previous experience, I was somewhat prepared and wouldn't be completely stunned when I saw the paintings.

As I slowly shifted my gaze to the painting, nothing surprised me. It wasn't the previous one; it was on a new canvas, highlighting several naked eyes. Part of my face and those dark eyes were depicted in the center, drawn with heavy charcoal ink. Even without color, Yang Kai's skill was evident. I could see the melancholy and fear in those eyes myself, placed on the pale canvas with its few simple strokes, slightly oversized, conveying a sense of helplessness. I think Yang Kai captured my inner thoughts, albeit exaggerated them, emphasizing the fear. Perhaps this is art—it needs to exaggerate or minimize to create a typification, rather than a faithful reproduction of reality.

At the top two corners of the canvas, there is also an eye. I don't know if it's for practice or if I drew my left and right eyes separately, because these two eyes are drawn with thick lines and only have an outline, so their expressions are not as rich.

In fact, I have no artistic talent and no appreciation for art, so I asked out of curiosity, "Teacher Yang, aren't you going to finish this empty-eye painting from last time? I haven't seen it hung up."

“Oh, it’s…” He was still thinking when he heard my question and his hand unconsciously pointed to the northeast corner. He immediately recovered his composure. “It’s not finished yet. I’m working on its color scheme.” I nodded and noticed that there might be a door in that corner, but it was blocked by a painting, leaving only the bottom of the door frame visible. We hadn’t paid attention to it before.

"Teacher Yang, please go ahead with your work. Let me take another look at the paintings in your living room."

"Okay, you can spin it yourself."

Curious, I started by examining the painting from an inconspicuous spot, then moved to the other side, observing it for a long time. I found that the sunflower paintings were basically identical—I mean identical in terms of quality, with no discernible difference. Even the color schemes of each painting seemed to differ, almost like copies, perhaps only in size. The Mona Lisa paintings, however, showed more significant differences, especially in the facial expression, the smile, and the direction of the eyes, which weren't entirely identical. I also saw original copies of the Mona Lisa and sunflower paintings on the north wall, revealing subtle differences in the Mona Lisa imitations. I think these might be paintings from different periods of Yang Kai's career, as the dates are indicated. An artist's skill is constantly evolving, so the maturity of paintings from different periods varies, making these differences easily understandable.

Taking advantage of Yang Kai's inattention, I quickly moved to the northeast corner and casually touched the painting hanging there...

24. Fatal Error

It was indeed a door, nothing unexpected. The door was milky white, with a sign above it that read "Silkworm Room." I quickly put down the painting and started looking at the other paintings. I wondered what "Silkworm Room" meant; was it a place for raising silkworms? Definitely not. Artists really do have strange names. I'd like to see what treasures are inside sometime.

Then I turned to the side door leading upstairs and remembered something: "Teacher Yang, you didn't tell us about the fatal mistake of the rich man Gaitianli during our last meal. When can we hear the rest of the story?"

"Oh," Yang Kai said, pausing for a moment while resting his head on his pencil. "Actually, it's nothing. I was just exaggerating. I've been quite busy lately, and I didn't really want to tell you. But if you're not scared, I can tell you in a few days."

"Okay, okay, I'm not afraid, I'll wait!" After saying goodbye, I went upstairs.

A few days later, Zhu Qingyuan went to work, and I helped the old man water the plants again. I'd never seen Yang Kai have this much free time; he actually joined in the labor. The various vegetables in the garden were growing vigorously, each one looking quite elegant, truly "graceful and upright." I also saw bok choy, which I recognized back home in the south. It was already 30 centimeters tall, with very tender green leaves, and upon closer inspection, you could see purple vein-like streaks. I know that the leaves of this vegetable aren't usually stir-fried directly, but used to make pickled vegetables; the edible part is the heart, which I really like. The green beans and pumpkins that caused the embarrassment last time had already started to string together, and the old man had already planted willow branches and built trellises for them. I didn't forget to ask Yang Kai the real name of the "woman flowers" by the dry well. He frowned slightly, then simply replied, "Sunflowers."

"Oh, so they're sunflowers!" I thought to myself. I remembered his wife painted sunflowers, so these must have been planted by her. Now, however, no one has tended to them; they've become wild sunflowers. Without water, they're not growing very well. I began to wonder if his wife had divorced him, or if something else had happened. I knew from the nanny that his wife was still alive last year. But that's their privacy, and I absolutely couldn't ask. Let's not bring it up again.

After a while, Yang Kai took the initiative to say to me, "Didn't you want to hear about Gai Tianli? Today is the perfect time to tell you about him."

"Yes, thank you for remembering!"

"Actually, this story isn't suitable for you to hear; it's more suitable for men. I think you'll tell it to Zhu Qingyuan, so it's the same."

Last time, we talked about how Gai Tianli, after becoming a millionaire, planned to work for another two years, hoping to achieve success in both his career and love life. In reality, life is full of disappointments; achieving one or two is enough, especially since Gai Tianli not only became a top beggar but also a millionaire. His first mistake was abandoning his social class and his brothers. To put it simply, he hired several professionally educated people to manage his branch stores, rendering his original beggar apprentices unemployed. He also hired a makeup artist with an art degree to manage his main store, eventually handing him full control. In the fourth year, aside from some minor hiccups, things went well, but business didn't expand. In the fifth year, chaos erupted in the branch stores, and the main store followed suit. First, each branch raised its service prices unilaterally. While the main store didn't raise prices, it couldn't keep up with demand because everyone was flocking to the main store, leading to further chaos. Adding to the turmoil, Gai Tianli clashed with the head makeup artist at the main store, deepening their conflict. Gai Tianli couldn't control him anymore, because now all the branch managers listened to him. In fact, Gai Tianli later learned that it was that manager who orchestrated the branch's price gouging and the resulting chaos. When Gai Tianli tried to dismiss the manager, the manager preemptively resigned. A key issue here was that the manager had applied for the "Gai Tianli Cosmetics Company" license and was operating legally. While Gai Tianli was of impeccable character, he was constrained by the rule of law in the market economy. Government investigations, city management control, and complaints from the neighborhood made it impossible for him to continue. He stopped his guerrilla tactics, had earned enough money, and simply retired from the world of begging.

His fatal mistake was not hiring the right people and not keeping up with the times by registering and operating in accordance with regulations. I would say fatal, but that's a bit of an exaggeration. He didn't go bankrupt, but the empire he built fell into the hands of others, and the business he loved that made money came to an end.

Afterwards, Gai Tianli realized he had suffered from a lack of education, and he decided to learn more and improve his character. Also, although he was a millionaire, he was single and desperately wanted to find a wife in the short term; his eagerness for quick success would surely lead him to make another mistake.

He was a makeup artist by profession, but he became involved in art and studied painting. Art is inherently interconnected, and because of his familiarity with faces, he specialized in portraiture. He heard of a famous painter and wanted to become his student, so he visited the painter's home. On his first visit, perhaps driven by a desire for women, he was captivated by the painter's wife—she was also a highly skilled painter. This woman was young, beautiful, and possessed a refined air. His conversation and demeanor evoked a strong attraction in him, a deep sense of admiration. Back home, he couldn't stop thinking about her, unable to sleep for days, feeling utterly infatuated. He was determined to find a way to win her over—planning is omnipotent.

25. A Beggar Chases a Beautiful Woman (Part 1)

"I've never felt such affection for anyone before," Gai Tianli believed, "this is love—I've fallen for this female painter. But he also knew she was married, so it was impossible for us at the moment; moreover, his inferiority complex resurfaced. Whether the female painter reciprocated his feelings was another matter entirely. She was a renowned painter, while he was just a novice in the art world. Wasn't this like a toad trying to eat swan meat? But he didn't give up. He decided to give it a try, to see if there was even the slightest hope."

Having finally managed to get an appointment with the painter again, he bought a whole bunch of high-end gifts, especially a lot of tonics for the painter's wife, and then rushed to the painter's house.

The painter beamed and talked with him for a long time, imparting many insights and techniques, and invited him to stay for dinner. The female painter, seeing so many gifts, especially those bought for herself, didn't seem overly excited, remaining calm and reserved, exchanging only a few polite words with Gai Tianli. Hearing that the painter wanted Gai Tianli to stay for dinner, the hostess wasn't very happy, lingering for a long time before finally going to the kitchen. They didn't have a maid, and the painter couldn't cook, but the female painter had a knack for it.

Gai Tianli, claiming to be a decent cook, offered to help. The woman didn't say anything, and Gai Tianli followed her into the kitchen. Silence fell between them. The female painter simply took out some spare meat and vegetables from the refrigerator and started cooking, while Gai Tianli went to wash the vegetables. Alone in the kitchen with the female painter, though silent, Gai Tianli, who had never been with a woman before, was already quite content. Smelling her perfume and seeing her melancholic yet proud eyes, Gai Tianli felt increasingly mysterious towards her, and he longed for an opportunity to make physical contact with her.

However, the female painter seemed to be deliberately avoiding him, hiding from him. The kitchen was spacious, and he was busy cooking without even a chance to encounter her. After finishing one dish, the female painter wanted to find a chili pepper to use as seasoning for the next. Just then, Gai Tianli washed several chili peppers, intending to make tiger-skin chili peppers, and soaked them in a basin, waiting for him to start cooking. At that moment, the female painter came over, reached into the basin, and took a chili pepper to wash, worried it wasn't clean enough. In a flash, Gai Tianli hurriedly reached into the basin and grabbed the female painter's hand, startling her so much that she splashed around in the basin, getting water all over her body and face.

"What are you doing?" The female painter glared at Gai Tianli, her face full of anger.

"These chilies are very spicy, and I was worried your hands would hurt if they got wet, so I wanted to take them from you and wash them for you."

The woman was taken aback, not expecting that answer. Her tone softened: "Oh, you should have told me first."

They fell silent again. The female painter finished cooking her own dishes and handed the rest to Gai Tianli. Gai Tianli glanced at the woman's beautiful face, more beautiful than a movie star, with a touch of green eyeshadow that didn't look vulgar; her figure was excellent, with a very shapely figure—in today's terms, she was either Barbie Hsu or Dee Hsu. Thinking about the soft, jade-like hands he had just held, Gai Tianli felt a sweet, intoxicated feeling. It wasn't until the female painter returned to the kitchen, coughing loudly from the fumes, that Gai Tianli realized he had been daydreaming, and as a result, the tiger-skin green peppers were burnt. He had to make amends, and he carefully prepared the second dish, sweet and sour pork, making it vibrant and fragrant, though he added a little too much sugar.

The painter served him fine wine, and they got along very well, with the painter even agreeing to take him on as an apprentice. The hostess, preoccupied with her own meal, didn't bother to urge her guest to eat more; the painter seemed oblivious to her, focusing instead on drinking, eating, and discussing his own affairs with Gaitianli. But Gaitianli's drunken eyes kept glancing at the aloof beauty, and at one point, he even managed to put some food up his nose as she got up.

26. A "Beggar" Chases a Beautiful Woman (Part Two)

I listened with a smile, remaining silent. There are many versions of this story, all more or less the same: a lovesick man's inappropriate behavior towards a beautiful woman—both infuriating and laughable, but mostly ending badly. Because there are many insurmountable obstacles, not to mention the outcome, some wither as soon as they begin to blossom. Most are one-sided lovesickness, inaction, and ultimately, a loss of self-awareness. But people do have moments of clarity, and when they are clear-headed, they gain self-awareness.

Strangely, Yang Kai was so familiar with Gai Tianli's story, recounting it as if it had happened to him personally. However, it's highly likely he was a very good friend of Yang Kai's; after all, they were both in the art world, and men often talk about women, so it's not surprising that Yang Kai knew so much. Since Gai Tianli's story has come to this point, I still want to hear the ending. Gai Tianli is wealthy, and I suspect he's unlikely to end up with the female painter, because as mentioned above, she seems indifferent and aloof towards him.

Yang Kai paused for a moment, then continued, "During their two meetings, Gai Tianli did indeed fall in love with the painter's wife, quite infatuated. But he lacked self-awareness, failing to read the painter's eyes and thoughts. He thought he could accomplish anything, he was a millionaire, he had everything he wanted, finding a woman wouldn't be difficult. While that's true, finding someone you love isn't easy, and it requires the right opportunity. The most painful thing in the world is this: when the person you love doesn't love you back, yet you pursue them relentlessly; when the person you don't love loves you deeply, yet you can't shake them off, becoming utterly annoyed by their entanglement. These two situations are the most tragic, as the saying goes, 'Since ancient times, those with deep affection have only ended in regret,' the result is nothing more than lingering resentment. The best situation is to love when you love, and to not love when you don't, decisively and cleanly, but how many people can do that?"

Torn between his teacher and the woman he loved, Gai Tianli was torn. Who else but him? He was in agony, unsure how to achieve his goal. He felt he had to do something: steal the woman? Win her over? Or use underhanded tactics to drive a wedge between them and force a divorce? But a crucial question remained: while he deeply loved her, he wasn't sure if she loved him back. Therefore, he needed to observe and wait for an opportunity. He didn't act rashly or do anything wrong. At the time, mobile phones were all the rage, so he went to a specialty store and bought the latest Motorola phone, intending to give it to the woman secretly when he visited the painter's house, to express his love.

Just as he finished buying the phone and was thinking about other gifts, his old phone rang. It was the painter calling, asking him to come to his house immediately to discuss something. His voice was loud and urgent. Gai Tianli hadn't expected the painter to take the initiative to invite him, especially for something urgent. Without thinking, he rushed to the painter's house.

The painter's residence was also a villa. When Gai Tianli arrived at the villa's entrance, he could hear a loud argument coming from inside. The voices belonged to the painter and his wife, and there were occasional sounds of furniture and bottles being smashed. Gai Tianli thought he had come at the wrong time; the couple was probably arguing. It wouldn't be good to go in now, so he decided to let them argue until they were done before going in.

The two inside had probably been arguing for a while; their voices were getting louder and louder, and they were even yelling and hitting each other with furniture. Gai Tianli initially thought of covering his ears and waiting a while, figuring that no matter how much they argued and fought, it was just a way for them to vent their anger, and he might get hurt if he went in. He had seen this kind of thing many times before, so it was best to stay away!

Just as Gaitianli covered his ears and was about to crouch down, he heard several screams of "Ah, ah—", and then the arguing stopped. He sensed something was wrong. The gate was locked, so he climbed over the wall. Unexpectedly, the villa had an alarm; it went off as soon as he reached the top. He didn't care anymore and rushed into the yard, heading straight for the hall. The gate was ajar, and he rushed in. The lights were off, and it was very dark. He saw no one, and the ground was a mess, littered with broken pieces of glass and porcelain—he dared not step on them. Gaitianli took a few steps forward and found a person lying under a broken long-backed chair. It was the painter; his head was tilted to the side, and his ears and mouth were covered in blood…

27. jamsil

Hearing the word "blood," I couldn't help but cover my face and tremble. Yang Kai didn't seem to know how timid I was; if it were Zhu Qingyuan, he certainly wouldn't have used words containing blood. I couldn't bear to listen any longer, but Yang Kai only paused briefly before continuing, "Gai Tianli didn't touch the painter in the pool of blood. He was more concerned about the woman. He heard her scream earlier, so she must still be alive. He rushed to each room to search and found the female painter in the study. She had smashed the study's glass window, injuring herself, and tried to climb out through the window, but there were iron railings outside, preventing her from getting out. She sat trembling on the iron railing like a frightened rabbit, her expression blank. It turned out that she had accidentally killed her painter husband and, hearing the alarm, panicked and desperately hid here..."

"Cuckoo—cuckoo—" A few clear bird calls rang out. I looked up at the sky, but no birds flew by. I saw Yang Kai take out his phone; it was his. After answering the call, I learned someone was looking for him. He dropped his tools, went back inside, got dressed, and drove off, leaving me and the old man to continue working. But his story wasn't finished. The painter in the story was probably dead, and the female painter was likely in jail—that was the only guess I could make. Later, I told the story to Zhu Qingyuan, and he shared the same opinion. However, he told me not to pry too much and not to listen to the rest of the story, lest I have a heart attack and he wouldn't take me to the hospital. This guy was quite loyal to me.

"It's easier to change mountains and rivers than to change one's nature," and this saying is so true for me. I'm such a timid person, yet I have such a strong curiosity, always wanting to satisfy my greed. Even Zhu Qingyuan can't do anything about me. Fortunately, I don't have a heart condition, so at most I'll just be startled for a while. It's good to get some stimulation to toughen up my courage.

Yang Kai is usually at home and rarely goes out; artists really know how to maintain a quiet existence. Perfect timing! Today I'm going to sneak off and do something "naughty"—something that's hard to do openly and unlikely to succeed. With Yang Kai out, I can finally peek into his "silkworm room" and see what secrets and treasures it holds. I guess it's a small studio, not exactly private; if the door's locked, I can't see anything, but if it's unlocked, there's no harm in looking.

I slipped into the hall through the side door at the bottom of the stairs, as usual, except the lights weren't on. There were some tools, paints, and paper on the easel, along with a few books. I walked over, turned the easel around, and glanced at it. Good heavens! I took two steps back, my heart pounding. The person in the painting had white hair, standing out starkly against the black background, especially the bloodshot eyes, glaring angrily at me, like a white-haired witch in the night. Thankfully, the painting was still. I paused briefly, then pulled myself together and looked closer. I realized it was the painting I'd done a few days ago, and the eyes were indeed of me, as evidenced by two small eyes in the corners. It seemed I was terrified not only by my own eyes but also by the sheer power of the art. That exaggerated white hair and red eyes would startle anyone. The rest of the painting had been painted with powder and color, making it essentially a complete work, except for the two small eyes in the corners, their meaning unclear.

Looking at the paintings I'd seen with my own eyes, a thought flashed through my mind, and I understood the meaning of "Silkworm Room." It probably refers to unfinished paintings, incomplete works, awaiting further refinement. Artists liken creation to silkworms eating food—slow and steady wins the race—so the name "Silkworm Room" fits the bill. Also, there might be some rather frightening or nude paintings that wouldn't be suitable for the main hall. Thinking this way, if the Silkworm Room really contained such things, I was mentally prepared. What was there to be afraid of!

I arrived at the entrance to the silkworm rearing room, parted the painting, and slipped behind it. I gently turned the doorknob, my heart pounding. As I expected, the door wasn't locked. With a soft "thump," the door opened, revealing a crack. I calmed myself, bracing myself for a terrifying scene, and slowly opened the door a tiny bit, peering through the ten-centimeter gap at the wall.

Having prepared myself mentally, I wasn't particularly surprised when I saw several Mona Lisa paintings without eyes. Just as I expected, these were unfinished paintings. So, I opened the door wider and wider, peering inside. Suddenly, a flash of light appeared, and a light source shone directly into my eyes. Oh no, was there a mechanism? I quickly closed the door, but nothing happened. So, I slowly opened the door again and discovered that the light source was a camera. Damn, rich people are different; they even install cameras to spy on their secrets. It would be very embarrassing if Yang Kai found out.

Just now, with that opening and closing, I was already exposed to the camera. Seeing there wasn't anything secret inside, I decided to go in and take a look. There was another table in the middle, and the paintings on the walls were all similar—eyeless imitations of the Mona Lisa. I scanned them and noticed two paintings were clearly different. One was the portrait Yang Kai had first painted of me; because the pose was me sitting in front of the mirror, unlike the other portraits, it was easy to identify. My portrait was basically finished; it had color, and the face and figure were almost identical to mine. The only problem was that the eyes weren't painted yet. It made me feel a little sad, even if only temporarily. Thinking about the eye painting outside, I guess they'll add my eyes later.

Another, different painting was on the north wall, easily missed if you weren't looking closely. This painting was almost identical to the Mona Lisa except for the face—the same posture and gesture, the same clothing. The subtle differences were that the hands and breasts weren't as full as the Mona Lisa's. The biggest difference was the face; it was the face of a mature, beautiful young woman, longer and thinner, and like the Mona Lisa, it lacked eyes, giving it a somewhat sinister air. Who was this woman? I racked my brains, searching my memory; it seemed familiar, as if I'd seen her somewhere before…

28. Sexy high heels

I compared this woman's painting with my own, and the face shape was surprisingly similar, but it definitely wasn't me, because I painted it before I came here; you can tell how old the painting is. Could this be the girl who rented the room before us? That's possible, because things were very strange before we rented the room; they asked for a recent photo of me and then chose me to rent this room. Yang Kai probably always chooses girls with similar face shapes.

My mind drifted back to the nanny who had come to settle her wages last time. This portrait couldn't possibly be hers. Who else could it be? As I was thinking, my shoulder accidentally bumped into the door. I glanced behind it and saw a small painting hanging there—an unfinished sunflower painting, unsigned. Suddenly, a thought struck me. That's it! Sunflowers—Mrs. Chen. The nanny had mentioned Mrs. Chen before. Could this portrait of the eyeless woman be Mrs. Chen?

I didn't tell Zhu Qingyuan the secret of the "Silkworm Room". Afterwards, I was on tenterhooks for several days, afraid that Yang Kai would find out that I had broken into his "Silkworm Room", so I always walked with my head down. I wanted to take the initiative to find him and apologize, but there was no suitable opportunity. Coincidentally, I had a free weekend and didn't have to work as a model. When Yang Kai saw me, he didn't say anything, so I kept the matter to myself.

After waiting for several days, May Day finally arrived, and a company finally asked me to start work after May Day—it's the same fashion magazine company that did the catwalk show last time. Once I arrived, I went through several formalities and they even offered me three types of insurance, so it seemed quite legitimate. My job is to work on the online version of the fashion magazine, mainly collecting and publishing the latest fashion information. I also create my own weekly feature, just making sure it's stylish and appealing.

Some say, "Appearance is very important," and that beauty is a woman's ladder to happiness! Handsomeness, on the other hand, is a man's red thread, binding him firmly to the ladder and thus winning his beautiful wife. Does this mean that those who aren't beautiful or handsome are left looking up in envy? Especially girls.

Women dress to please themselves; a woman who wants to be refined and beautiful needs to know how to present herself well. Pleasing others and oneself is essential; a woman needs a sense of style. Women who have struggled with the mundane realities of daily life, women suffocated by their husbands' smelly socks and children's dirty clothes, need a good mood to treat themselves well and to dress up nicely. Therefore, clothing and makeup are effective means; simply put, it's about enhancing one's appearance.

I work in the fashion section, and my first feature was titled: "Sexy High Heels, Meet Your Prince Charming." I wrote about a friend of mine, almost 30, with a successful career as a manager at an insurance company. However, she's still single, and choosing a boyfriend is like choosing high heels – utterly unsatisfactory. Despite her excellent qualities, she longs to meet her perfect Prince Charming, but such things don't exist. Although she has several suitors, she remains unmoved and still undecided.

Unmarried and lonely, her pursuit of beauty has made her a fashion enthusiast, and shopping malls are her best way to pass the time. Summer is here, but she's struggling to find a pair of high-heeled sandals. Twenty years ago, she pestered her parents for ages to buy a pair of pretty sandals for two yuan. Ten years ago, reluctant to spend their money, she bought a pair of short heels, which she felt embarrassed wearing. Five years ago, the first thing she did after getting her paycheck was to buy a pair of high heels she'd been longing for, no matter the cost. Now, she doesn't look at the price; she looks at the brand, and then the style, design, and comfort—she picks and chooses relentlessly. So, this friend has scoured a huge shopping mall, but still hasn't found a suitable and satisfactory pair of high-heeled sandals.

After a long day of wandering around, her legs were aching, and she had blisters on her feet. Nearby was an Italian boutique, where she spotted a pair of red high heels with high ribbons—quite sexy. She tried them on, they fit, and she bought them. Surprisingly, they were quite cheap. Since it was an unknown brand, perhaps she'd fallen into the trap of overpaying and couldn't find anything she liked, just like how she couldn't find a boyfriend she liked. By then, her stomach was protesting loudly, so she decided to fill her stomach first and give her feet a rest.

Sitting in McDonald's, she downed a Coke in no time, and a small hamburger vanished in a flash. After grabbing something to eat, she slowly savored her fries and milkshake. Exhausted from a day of shopping, she decided she wouldn't buy shoes so easily anymore—it was too tiring! However, she still wanted to experience the joy of shopping, so she eagerly put on her sexy red high heels and tossed her old shoes into the bag.

After she finished eating and drinking, she calmed down and began to observe the people around her. A man sat down a few meters away; his face was a bit dark, and he was quietly munching on a hamburger. Beside him was a transparent plastic bag containing a pair of beautiful gold sandals with a butterfly on them—very cute and pretty. She couldn't help but glance at the pretty butterfly shoes a few more times, feeling envious. She thought that man had such good taste; his girlfriend would be so happy to have such a pair of shoes. How wonderful it would be to have a boyfriend like that!

Just as she was lost in admiration, she looked for the shoes again, but they were gone; the man had already left. She got up and searched around, and seeing the man just walk out the door, she followed him out. The man got into a car and started it, so she got into her own car and inexplicably followed him. She thought about the butterfly shoes and how gentle and considerate the dark-faced man must have been. At a red light at an intersection, the car slowed down, and because her mind was wandering, she didn't notice. When she realized what was happening, she slammed on the brakes, but her sexy high heels wouldn't cooperate, getting stuck in the middle, and she crashed into the car in front of her. Luckily, the gear was low, and she had turned off the accelerator, so the impact wasn't too serious. Ignoring the pain in her hands and face, she took off the stuck red heel, one foot in high heel and one bare foot out, to check if the people in the car in front were injured.

It was the dark-faced man's car; the girl had just rear-ended his. He had already stopped, but the impact from behind was minor; he jumped out of his car to check behind him. Seeing the girl's disheveled state—one shoe on, one bare—he understood. He quickly opened his car door, took out the pair of butterfly shoes, and handed them to the girl, helping her put them on; they fit perfectly. It turned out the shoes were for his cousin. My friend was deeply moved, and the two started dating, eventually walking down the aisle—a beautiful story of unexpected romance.

So I added a comment: Buying shoes is like finding a boyfriend. Whether you fall in love at first sight or carefully select after comparison, life doesn't always offer such perfect opportunities. If we only focus on external conditions and aesthetics, we may never find shoes that truly satisfy us. Instead of envying others' "flat shoes," why not buy a pair for yourself? Actually, shoes and the wearer have a reciprocal relationship. Brand and style aren't their only appeal; aesthetics and comfort are more important. They also need to match your clothing and personality to truly shine. If you're driving, ditch your sexy high heels!

Physical beauty may bring fleeting brilliance, but it cannot last. We need to dress ourselves up; being beautiful is a skill, but it's not the only one. More importantly, we need to change our mindset and our thinking. Then, your loved one will always be by your side, and happiness will no longer be a fantasy or a dream, but a warm and sweet reality, just like Zhu Qingyuan and I.

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