chapter 10

I sat in my seat, stunned for a long time before my friend finally returned.

Dian Deng: “Ms. Wu has already been here. She took the paintings and left, told us to order whatever we wanted, and said she’d pay for it.”

Friend: “…”

My friend seemed to have something on their mind.

Dian Deng: “What’s wrong? Constipated?”

Friend: “Get lost.”

Dian Deng: “Then why do you have that look on your face?”

My friend thought for a moment, then spoke to me slowly.

Friend: “I just saw Ms. Wu. She was over by the sink, burning the paintings.”

Dian Deng: “What?”

Friend: “Really, she burned the paintings.”

Dian Deng: “Didn’t she say she wanted to take them home and treasure them? She said they were proof of her courage and strength.”

Friend: “I thought it was strange too. I didn’t even dare to speak to her.”

I was dumbfounded.

Ms. Wu clearly wanted those three paintings so much, so why did she burn them as soon as she got them?

Did she lie? Did she actually hate those three paintings? Or did she hate that period of her life?

But why would she lie?

We couldn’t figure it out, and didn’t dare to ask.

We could only comfort ourselves, saying it was her private matter and we shouldn’t interfere too much.

…

After I got home, I lay on my bed, completely puzzled.

At first, the number Ms. Wu left on the paintings was always “15.3.11”-what made her change it to “16.4.7”?

She was willing to talk about everything else, but never about the date.

And another thing.

I’m certain that the first time we met Ms. Wu, she really said, “wanted to kill me too.”

She really did say “too.”

Was it just a slip of the tongue?

Would a normal person accidentally say “too” in that context?

If it wasn’t a slip, but something she let slip by accident-

Who else did the culprit kill?

Besides the third person in the painting, could there be someone else?

I kept feeling that things weren’t so simple.

Ms. Wu burning the paintings.

That number that was never explained.

And that word “too.”

These three doubts are like stray hairs in my clothes, pricking me from time to time, making me restless.

I arranged the four paintings in order, trying to find something I’d missed.

I stared at the third painting.

About the third person in the third painting.

I once suspected it was Ms. Wu’s child.

But Ms. Wu said it was someone she imagined.

If both of those explanations are wrong-

Could there be a third possibility?

…