chapter 6

At noon, I arrived as scheduled.

It was a tea restaurant, and they were already waiting for me there.

At the table, besides my friend, sat a very elegant woman dressed in designer brands, looking to be in her early thirties.

When she saw me arrive, she stood up and shook my hand.

Ms. Wu: “Hello, my surname is Wu.”

Dian Deng: “Hello.”

After we were all seated, Ms. Wu ordered some dishes from the waiter, and then began today’s conversation.

Ms. Wu: “This morning, I received a call from Captain Wang at the District Public Security Bureau. He said someone had found the paintings I made years ago. I was quite surprised, because I drew these two paintings around 2015. I gave them away at the time and never heard anything back, so I thought they had already been destroyed. I never expected to see these two paintings again today-it feels truly magical.”

Friend: “Oh right, Wu Jie, you asked me to bring those two paintings, and I did.”

With that, my friend handed the two paintings to Ms. Wu.

Ms. Wu took the paintings and put them in her bag.

Ms. Wu: “Thank you. I want to treasure these two paintings-they are proof of my courage and strength.”

Looking at Ms. Wu’s makeup, I couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity.

Dian Deng: “Can you tell me what happened back then? How were you rescued?”

Ms. Wu: “As for the method of rescue, it’s just as you thought-self-rescue using light bulbs. I was kidnapped in March 2015, and the numbers on the light bulb are the date I was kidnapped. The criminal kept me locked in a basement until May 2017, when I was finally rescued. During that time, I managed to send out four paintings hidden in light bulbs. The first three disappeared without a trace, but after the fourth painting was discovered and reported to the police, they rescued me.”

Dian Deng: “You are truly strong. May I see the painting that led to your rescue?”

Ms. Wu nodded, took out her phone, opened her photo album, and found a photo of that painting.

The composition and materials of this painting were the same as the previous two, but the only difference was that the number on it was not ‘15.3.11’, but ‘16.4.7’.

Dian Deng: “Ms. Wu, why is the number different?”

Ms. Wu: “Sorry, I don’t want to talk about that topic.”

Perhaps that number holds some special meaning for Ms. Wu.

I didn’t press further, but instead made some small talk.

Dian Deng: “You seem to be doing well now.”

Ms. Wu: “Yes. I am a child from the mountains. My parents thought it was a waste of money for girls to study, so they planned to have me work on the farm for a few years and then marry early. I couldn’t accept living my whole life like that, so a few years later I escaped to the city to make my own way. Unexpectedly, right after leaving the train station, I was tricked by that bastard and taken home to be imprisoned. That period of captivity was truly tormenting, but it also made me realize how terrible it is to be illiterate. After I was rescued, I started studying and working hard. As you can see, am I just doing well? I’m doing great.”

Dian Deng: “I’m curious, how many years was the criminal sentenced to after being caught?”

Ms. Wu was silent for a moment, took a sip of tea, and then spoke to me.

Ms. Wu: “The criminal was not sentenced.”

Dian Deng: “Not sentenced?”

Ms. Wu: “That’s right, because he died. I killed him.”

My friend and I were both shocked.
Ms. Wu’s gaze lingered on the table as she began to explain the matter to us, unhurried and composed.

Ms. Wu: “That day, he happened to be at home when the police came looking for him. It seemed he noticed them, so he grabbed a knife and came to the basement to find me. Maybe he intended to take me hostage and negotiate with the police. But I was terrified. At that moment, I didn’t even know the police had arrived; I simply thought he was fed up and wanted to kill me too. I’m not even sure what happened to me-I suddenly had a desperate urge to survive, snatched the knife from his hands, and then lost all control. By the time the police broke down the door and found us, I had stabbed him over a dozen times. He was already dead.”

As Ms. Wu continued, her tone grew heavier, and she trembled as she spoke, gripping the table tightly. There was a fierce, almost animalistic intensity erupting in her eyes.

I swallowed nervously, at a loss for what to do.

Ms. Wu soon collected herself. She rubbed her eyes and continued in a gentle voice.

Ms. Wu: “Since the perpetrator was already dead, the case was not handed over to the court. As for me killing him, the court eventually ruled it as self-defense. I was quickly released, and even received specialized mental health support. I’m grateful to the country.”

I didn’t dare to speak anymore.

My friend quickly tried to smooth things over.

Friend: “I saw on your Moments that you’re preparing for the Intermediate Accounting Certificate, right? I’m sure you’ll succeed.”

Ms. Wu: “Thank you. Actually, I have a question for you. Where did you find these two paintings?”

Friend: “Oh, my family runs a Recycling Station. A few days ago, an elderly man passed away. He’d accumulated several tons of scrap at home, and my dad brought it all back. The lightbulbs with the hidden paintings were found in that pile.”

Ms. Wu: “I see. As I mentioned earlier, I painted four paintings in total. Now you’ve found two, one is filed at the police station, and there’s still one missing. If you happen to find the last painting, please contact me directly. I really want it back.”

Dian Deng: “Is it also a cherished piece?”

Ms. Wu: “Yes.”

Friend: “Of course, if I find it, I’ll definitely get in touch.”

Ms. Wu: “Thank you.”

…

During the rest of the conversation, Ms. Wu answered several phone calls. It seemed she was now a mid-level leader at some company-her presence was indispensable.

So before the meal was even finished, Ms. Wu left early. She even picked up the bill before she left.

The two of us remained, sitting in place and sighing.

Friend: “Ms. Wu was rescued. That’s great.”

Dian Deng: “Mm…”

Friend: “You don’t look too happy?”

Dian Deng: “I just didn’t expect things would turn out like this-the victim killed the perpetrator…”

Friend: “That’s pretty normal, right? If it were me, I probably wouldn’t have lasted even a month-I’d have taken the perpetrator down with me long ago.”

Dian Deng: “Maybe I’m just overthinking. When you find the last painting, be sure to show it to me.”

Friend: “Alright, with any luck, we’ll find it today.”

Dian Deng: “Today?”

Friend: “There are still dozens of LED Bulbs from that truck my dad brought back that haven’t been dismantled yet. Maybe the last painting is in one of them.”

Hearing this, I thought it was very possible.

That elderly man had collected hundreds of bulbs while he was alive; there might really be one last painting among them.

So I dragged my friend back to the Recycling Station, hoping to find the last painting.

…