My wife has recently started to learn to draw and sketch, and it is said that she is still very talented, and in less than a year of painting, her figure painting has opened an exhibition, and she has made a lot of money.

So she became more interested in painting.

And I, the husband, finally went from being the head of the family to becoming her full-time model, and I was called at any time.

On March 13, a moonless night, she forced me to stay still for two hours with a sweet smile and a hearty dinner.

Because her smile was so sweet, my heart moved, and I agreed.

During the two hours I was still, she carefully drew a portrait of me. In my more than 30 years of life, I have taken countless photographs, but this is the first time I have been photographed, so my interest is no less than that of my wife.

When she was done, she triumphantly presented the work to me, looking at me expectantly, every inch of her face longing for my compliment.

I smiled and took the picture as I brewed a line of praise. After only one glance, I was stunned: "Lady, you took the wrong one, this is not the one I just painted." She was stunned, and quickly stretched her head over to look, and only glanced at it, and then looked at me with disgust: "It's this one, don't be naughty." I laughed: "Lady, how can it be such a virtue for her husband who is a thousand times more handsome than him?" Her face suddenly darkened, and I secretly screamed that it was not good, and I was trying to try to save it, but it was too late, and she brushed the floor and snatched the painting back from my hand: "Hmph! Then she turned and went to the bedroom to talk to the teddy bear about her troubles.

I scratched my head, shook my head and sighed, and felt a little funny. In fact, her paintings are really good, even though I am a layman, I can also see the skills in it. However, her painting is not my painting at all, so it is difficult for me to praise it. Alas, women, obviously they are wrong, but they still have to blame others. I decided to avoid it and go to the bedroom to comfort her.

At this moment, I remembered the knock on the door. When I opened the door, I saw that it was my long-time friend Wenbin.

As soon as he entered the door, he laughed loudly: "Bingchen, Xiaoxue asked me to come and see the portrait she painted for you." "Xiaoxue is my wife.

I also laughed along-it turned out that this Xiaoxue was unwilling, so she actually hid in the bedroom and called Wen Bin, asking him to comment on the painting, which was really childish.

Xiaoxue walked out of the bedroom, her eyelids were red, her face was full of displeasure, and when she saw Wen Bin, she only pulled out a slight smile, and immediately handed him the painting: "Who do you look at this painting?" "It's still the same picture, and I'm laughing in my belly, but I'm making a very serious face on the surface.

The guy in the portrait has a high nose and deep eyes, a gentle expression, and he is indeed very good-looking, but he really has nothing in common with me. I peeked in the mirror, I had long eyebrows and phoenix eyes, a straight nose and a square mouth, which was completely different from the person in the portrait, and Xiaoxue was too outrageous. I'd like to see how Moon Bin gets through this.

Wen Bin looked at the portrait and praised it repeatedly: "Well drawn, Bingchen, exactly like you!" "I almost squirted rice - how could he talk nonsense with his eyes open like that? Xiaoxue was naturally happy to smile and look at me triumphantly. I laughed a few times, took advantage of her happiness to make tea, and pulled Wen Bin aside: "You are talking nonsense with a clear conscience." Wen Bin looked at me with a serious look in his eyes: "Bingchen, I didn't say you, Xiaoxue's painting is so good, why don't you encourage her at all?" I also became serious: "Wenbin, it's not right for you to say that, what does this painting resemble me?" The painting was in Wen Bin's hand, and he unfolded it flat in front of me: "Which point is like you?" You see, what's not like that? "I'm a little upset, he still says this behind Xiaoxue's back, what does it mean?

"It's not like anywhere!" I said, lighting a cigarette at the same time. Wen Bin also worked hard to chase Xiaoxue back then, but he was still defeated by me, but I didn't expect that after so many years, he was still obsessed with it, and he could reverse right and wrong for her.

Wen Bin was also angry: "Why are you this kind of person? ”

"What's wrong with me?" I said coldly, since he was unreasonable, I was not polite, "What do you want you to do with my housework?" Wen Bin froze, the corners of his forehead were bruised, his face turned red, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything, turned around and slammed the door and went out.

Xiaoxue heard the sound of slamming the door, and hurriedly ran out, not knowing why: "What's wrong?" How did Moon Bin go? "Let him go!" I waved at her. Xiaoxue was very smart, and when she saw that I was really angry, she didn't make a noise and slipped into the bedroom.

I sat quietly in the living room alone, smoking a cigarette, and suddenly felt very bored.

The painting was thrown on the coffee table by Wen Bin, and the person on the painting smiled slightly and looked at me. In the midst of boredom, I held the painting in my hand, which was clearly not me, but Wen Bin actually insisted that it was similar to me, which was really unreasonable.

Kindness?

I suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Wen Bin's praise of this painting certainly contains the meaning of pleasing Xiaoxue, but what about Xiaoxue herself? Her paintings have indeed participated in art exhibitions, and with her eyes, it is impossible not to see that this painting has nothing in common with me.

So why is she so angry?

Also, with her highly praised painting skills, even if she can't paint me very similarly, she won't lose shape to such an extent that I will become a different person entirely.

The person in the painting is handsome and extraordinary, with a noble bearing, looking at me calmly - such a face, Xiaoxue could not imagine it out of thin air.

Well, there is only one explanation for this: Xiaoxue replaced the painting. She did it on purpose.

Why would she do it?

Why did Moon Bin help her do this?

Who is the person in the painting?

Suddenly, I had a myriad of questions, and I had an infinite number of guesses. These speculations made my mood worse and worse.

Could it be that Xiaoxue actually betrayed me?

As soon as this thought came to me, I felt a chill in my own heart, and I tried to suppress it. However, I couldn't control my thoughts, and the thoughts continued to expand and take shape.

I took a few puffs of my cigarette and felt something was wrong.

Even if Xiaoxue wanted to betray me, why did she use such a clumsy method? I shook my head, I don't understand, I really don't understand.

Depressed in my chest, I folded the painting into small pieces, put it in my pocket, and went out. Xiaoxue heard me open the door and ran out and asked, "Where are you going?" "Let's go." I don't look back.

Walking downstairs, I walked slowly along the sidewalk, constantly recalling the bits and pieces of Xiaoxue's weekdays, and there was nothing suspicious at all.

Am I being overly careful?

But what the hell is going on today? I thought about what happened today, but I still didn't understand, and I couldn't help but take the painting out of my pocket and look at it carefully under the streetlamp.

I looked and looked, but it was still not me.

When I was bored, my neighbor, Uncle He, saw me. Before I could put it away, he had taken it naturally.

"This is what your family Xiaoxue painted, right? It's so well drawn. Uncle He said with a smile.

I was so worried that I just smiled reluctantly: "Really? Uncle He didn't notice my mood, and continued to talk to himself: "Bingchen, the painting is exactly the same as yours, it's really good!" What did he say?

"What did you say?" I asked eagerly. Painted exactly like me? Did I hear me wrong?

Uncle He was taken aback by my expression: "What did I say wrong?" Bingchen, what's wrong? I took a secret breath and tried to calm my tone: "Uncle He, you said that this portrait is exactly the same as mine?" ”

"yes." Uncle He looked at me with a look in his eyes that was already a little suspicious, "How to pull?" Is it a quarrel between the two? I waved my hand, put the painting away, and continued walking. My original intention was to pull Uncle He to ask for clarification, but my mood was so chaotic that I couldn't say anything for a while, so I had to leave first.

Even Uncle He said that this portrait is exactly the same as mine, what is going on? When I walked to no one's place, I took out the portrait and looked at it again, and then I looked left and right, and it was all another person.

Is it my eye problem, or is it theirs?

I was suddenly a little scared.

Several children hurried past me, and I grabbed one of them. The child looked at me nervously and was about to struggle, and I held up the portrait in front of them: "Little friend, look, who is this drawing?" "It's you!" The children were talking, looking at me in fear at the same time. As soon as I let go, they sprang up and ran in the wind, and their fearful voices came out, "Crazy, this is a madman." "Crazy? Am I really crazy?

So many people say that this painting is me, but I don't think so. I slowly think back to what happened today, yes, if I were a madman, it would all be explained.

I suddenly felt a little nauseous, cold sweat broke out from my forehead, I didn't know if it was fear or something else, I just felt uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.

I pulled a few more people and asked, and the answer was still the same - this was my portrait.

Don't I know myself?

I looked around blankly, the surrounding facilities of the community are complete, supermarkets and playgrounds are very good, people come and go, what a good world, normal world.

And I'm ...... But a madman?

When I got home, it was already past two o'clock in the night. Xiaoxue opened the door for me, her eyes were a little swollen, and she looked like she had cried. But she didn't ask me where I was, she didn't ask anything, she pretended that nothing had happened, she pretended to be happy, and looked at my face carefully.

I suddenly felt sour, took her hand, and said softly: "Xiaoxue, I'm sorry, it's me who is not good." She didn't speak, but shed strings of tears.

I took out the painting and pretended to be relaxed: "The painting is very similar, my Xiaoxue is a painter." Xiaoxue cried even harder, sobbing and resting her head on my shoulder.

I sighed.

I finally coaxed her to sleep, and I went to the bathroom alone, with the painting in my hand, in front of the mirror, looking at myself.

In the mirror, my face was a little pale, but it was still the face I was familiar with.

I am not the man with a high nose and deep eyes and a noble demeanor in the portrait.

But in the eyes of others, that's me.

Haven't I known myself for so many years? Or do they not know me?

Which one is the real me?

I washed my face with cold water and thought of another question that made me shudder for a moment - is it not the face of all the people who usually look like me? Do all of them actually have another face, but I never noticed it?

I shuddered, if that was the case, what would it be like?

I held my head in my hands and leaned over the vanity for a long time, not daring to lift my head. I was afraid to face myself in the mirror, to face this world that had suddenly become unfathomable.

When I looked up, I saw that there was one more person in the mirror.

It was Xiaoxue, she didn't know how long she stood behind me, tears streaming down her face. Finding me looking at her, she came over and hugged me: "Bingchen, what's wrong with you?" "I didn't look at her because I wasn't sure if the face I was seeing was real.

The next day, at my request, Xiaoxue painted portraits of several neighbors. She didn't know why I was doing it, but she didn't say anything.

She painted until 7 o'clock in the evening, and when she returned, she still didn't ask anything, and handed me ten portraits.

I unfolded the charcoal portraits one by one—ten portraits, all of them unfamiliar faces, none of them familiar, and I couldn't even guess who they belonged to.

I gritted my teeth and tried to control myself, but to no avail, I was still shaking uncontrollably.

Xiaoxue jumped up and hugged me, and she kept watching me attentively. Her eyes were very sad, and once again they were filled with tears: "What's wrong with you?" "Who are you drawing?" In her warm arms, I shivered less violently.

One by one, she reported the names of the people in the portrait, and each time she hugged them, it was like an iron bullet exploding in my mind—all of them were people I knew, long-time neighbors, old acquaintances I had been with for almost ten years, but I didn't know their faces at all.

"Do they say you draw like you?" I asked her with one last glimmer of hope.

"Elephant." One word smashed me to pieces. I froze.

If that's what they actually look like, then where did the faces I see come from? Why do I see different things than what others see?

Xiaoxue was frightened by my expression and shook me desperately and called my name.

"Xiaoxue," I whispered, "I want to go out for a walk." Ignoring her obstructions, I walked out.

I went to another painter's studio.

Maybe only Xiaoxue's portrait is different from the face I usually know, maybe the problem lies with Xiaoxue. I think.

That painter is the most famous painter in the city. I met him by accident.

He painted me a portrait.

The person in the portrait, with a high nose and deep eyes, with a hint of mockery in his eyes, looked at me.

"How?" He asked me.

"Very well," I said, "exactly like me." "When I left his studio, the bitter wind blew from all directions, making my eyes hurt.

Walking through the surging crowds of people in the city, I had the feeling of dreaming. I know these people, they have a different face, something completely different from what I saw.

I don't know if I was wrong, or if everyone else was wrong. But I know that I am just a person, alone.

I don't want to be taken crazy.

So I said to Xiaoxue, "Xiaoxue, you draw very similarly. "I live among people I know as usual, and I don't think about their strange faces.

As soon as man thinks, God laughs.

I gave up thinking.