chapter 9

So, on the same day, we arranged to meet Ms. Wu again.

We thought Ms. Wu would be hard to schedule since she’s so busy, but when she heard that the last painting had been found, she readily booked a private room and told us to go ahead and wait for her.

Around six o’clock, my friend had a stomach ache and went to the restroom. Just then, Ms. Wu arrived right on time, rushing into the private room.

Ms. Wu: “Sorry, I’m really busy. Where’s the painting? I’ll take it and leave. Order whatever you want to eat, today’s bill is on me.”

Seeing how anxious Ms. Wu was, I didn’t hold back.

Dian Deng: “Ms. Wu, why is there a third person in this painting? Were you forced to have a child while you were being held captive?”

Ms. Wu was stunned at first when she heard my question, then she laughed.

Ms. Wu: “Why would you think that?”

Dian Deng: “Because the police said there was no sign of a third person at the scene, so I wondered if maybe you had a child, but the child died and the body was disposed of by the perpetrator, or something else…”

After hearing my explanation, Ms. Wu wasn’t angry. She just smiled and told me,

Ms. Wu: “I never had a child. The third person in the painting is a figment of my imagination.”

Dian Deng: “Imagination?”

Ms. Wu: “Yes. At that time, I was locked up alone, no windows, no sense of time, no idea if it was day or night. Every day felt endless. The two paintings I sent out never brought any news. My mental state was on the verge of collapse. Then I developed what they call schizophrenia, and I kept imagining someone was with me. The third person in the painting is someone I imagined.”

I was dumbfounded. I had never considered that possibility.

Dian Deng: “I see. But why are there only two people in the fourth painting?”

Ms. Wu: “Because I realized that running away wouldn’t solve anything. If I didn’t try, I’d spend my whole life in hell.”

The way she spoke was bright and strong, truly admirable.

I handed the painting to Ms. Wu, feeling deeply ashamed.

Ms. Wu took the painting, said, “Enjoy your meal,” and left.

Leaving me and my friend sitting in the private room, dazed.

Muttering to myself:

“So there was such a possibility?”

…