"You mean, female painter Zhu Qi? That's it——? ”

I cautiously looked at the exhibition halls on all sides. Under the well-designed lighting, simple but tasteful fonts appear on the white wall, which is a biographical introduction of the painters. On the side, there are paintings depicting the background, and the paintings are filled with luxurious bouquets presented from various circles on the opening day, which is very impressive.

An uncomfortable sensation swept over the back of my neck.

Where does this feeling come from?

I thought of the banner at the entrance of the exhibition hall, and this uncomfortable feeling seemed to come from the handwriting on the banner.

The handwriting on the banner was so sloppy that I only recognized it when I first saw it, and I didn't feel anything special, but Liu Yaoyong's words disrupted my thoughts. I suddenly remembered the background information of Zhu Qi that I had read before, one of which was that Zhu Qi had become famous as an artist before teaching at Capital University, and I remember that she had emerged as a female painter - this cutting-edge painter Zhu Qi is the Zhu Qi of the murder case?

Yu Zujia opened the lid to talk because of the mobile phone ringing, and walked lightly to the door of the exhibition hall.

Liu Yaoyong saw my doubts and asked beside him, "You must have read about my little mother?" There are few people in the city who don't know about my father, Zhu Qi, who is called Mrs. Liu. But twenty years ago, you should know that the little mother was married, and Liu Zhenzhen was just Zhu Qi's husband. ”

Is this the art version of Thirty Years of Hedong and Thirty Years of Hexi?

"Yes, Zhu Qi is the female painter. About my little mother and her paintings, we have been a family for more than 20 years, and I should say that I have the most right to speak. Although she has rarely painted these days, her artistic level cannot be denied. Her paintings are really good, and many new and old painters in the art world have said that she has discovered a new perspective on painting, but ordinary people don't have much contact with this circle. ”

"I don't understand, you say...... Zhu Qi's painting level is very high? ”

"It's not just those who love the house and Wu who think it's high, it's the professionals and art dealers who think it's high." Liu Yaoyong said confidently, "I have privately collected more than 50 comments on my mother's paintings, most of which are praise articles. If you're interested, I'll send you a packet to see.

Xiao Ma mainly created a new painting method, kneading the traditional techniques of Chinese painting into the oil painting. What's more important is that she has a unique skill in oil painting pigments, from ancient cinnabar, stone blue, rouge, to modern acrylic raw materials, plant pigments, metal materials and chemical compositions, etc., everything is used, and some people exaggeratedly call her the female version of Xu Beihong. ”

Walking into the depths of the exhibition gallery, the size of the works is getting bigger and bigger. Liu Yaoyong showed me a painting next to me, which had the same name as a certain women's movie, called "Red, White and Blue". At first glance, I felt my eyelashes flutter and my heart was touched, as if I had suddenly met a long-lost friend, fellow countryman, or saw a familiar face in a foreign country, in the midst of a busy city and crowded crowds, and I was excited and nervous in a daze.

There are three young women, all of whom are very beautiful, like the same face; But they were dressed differently, and each stood in a different position; Behind is the background of the yellow earth. What do these three women have to do with color? Liu Yaoyong commented again next to him.

"If you look at these three women so alike, you will think that the painter is painting three sisters, or that he is painting a person.

All right. Neither is right. How so? In fact, they are one person, but they are not one person. You see, the woman standing a little behind, wearing a flowered slanted blouse, embroidered neckline, red cuffs, and a skirt with embroidered brocade flowers underneath, her hair in a high bun at the back of her head, holding a handkerchief in both hands, timidly lowered her eyes and looked at people. What era do you say she is? “

"It should be a woman of the Republic of China, a courtesan or something, right?"

Liu Yaoyong nodded: "Yes." You see the woman in the middle, the lake blue cloth shirt and short skirt, have changed the old style, especially my short ear-length hair and loose flat strapping tripping shoes, and the eyes that are not humble or arrogant when they look at people, it clearly presents the era in which the woman lived——"

"It's like a new woman during the 'May Fourth' period."

"Yes. Look at the front again, the shawl long hair is tied casually, and the chiffon clothes are fashionable, loose and natural. Unrestrained, with her arms outstretched, smiling and reverie, as if she was about to fly, she is completely the image of a modernist and open woman. “

I said with understanding: "By putting these three women on a yellow earth background, do you want to tell the history of women in some way, or reflect the fate of women?" ”

"That's how it should be said. You can see them as one person or as three generations of grandchildren, what it would be like if they lived in different eras, and the painter used the language of color to interpret the lives of women. ”

Speaking of this, Liu Yaoyong paused emphatically, "However, this painting is more worthy of study below, if you look at it from the side, it will produce a multi-faceted change effect, those young women have changed, you see, what has become like?" ——”

I looked at the painting from Liu Yaoyong's point of view, and suddenly exclaimed in surprise, the three beautiful women in different clothes changed, and in an instant the clothes disappeared, leaving only the body like a newborn baby, although the picture was hazy, I could still see the old body, the ribs were prominent, the muscles were relaxed, and the eyes were sunken. It was clearly three old women who were dead or about to die. I took two steps back in fright—the three beautiful women were still looking at me across from me. When I saw this painting, I immediately felt a dry mouth.

I stood there for a moment, still disbelieving and walked up to the painting again, and looked at it from the side, and it was still the three old women.

Back to the front, it's still the three young women who are showy. I watched it back and forth a few times, and the more I watched it, the more confused I became.

"This is my mother's original three-dimensional painting, it's amazing." Liu Yaoyong's tone was impassioned at this time, as if he was talking about his own mother's pride, "Each painting has multiple layers of meaning, giving people a multi-angle understanding. Look at the following picture "Who Calls the Shots in My Marriage", a girl in a big red dress with tears in her eyes;

The mother's temples are pale and sad, combing her daughter's hair; In the depths of the picture, an old man wearing a red flower waits by the wooden cart, staring impatiently - and then looking at the painting from the side - and see that it has changed, the girl has become a pot-bellied goat, the mother has become a half-dead stump, and the cart and the man in the painting have turned into the back of a black rock, and the whole portrait seems to be magical. ”

"I don't know how to draw a painting like this?" I said with sincere admiration.

"As I said earlier, I've collected a bunch of articles written by experts, and they haven't figured it out. Some of them are researched from reflective mineral pigments and blending agents, some are technical analysis from multi-layer coating and chemical treatment, some are tested and compared from perspective angles, what multifocal compositions, etc., all of which are not clear - I asked my mother, but she smiled and said, I'm sorry, this is a woman's secret. Liu Yaoyong was sad.

I hated my own talent, because I felt that his grief was so deep and uncontrollable that I forcibly turned my head away and hung a few still lifes at the beginning of the gallery.

Compared to the portraits that I had seen before, which seemed to have a magical nature, I was relieved that the still life paintings I saw now were in a different style, with light brushstrokes and brighter tones.

I took a look at it first and found that although these paintings were also signed by Zhu Qi, they were all based on fairy tales, so I relaxed and watched them. Looking at it, a chill gradually enveloped my heart.

A woman in a black cape looks blankly at the seven dwarfs in the distance, who are mourning the death of Snow White.

Behind the moss-covered giant spinning wheel are ruins surrounded by thorns. Sleeping Beauty lies in the dark, her dead body covered in cobwebs and dust.

The jewel in the eyes of the happy prince has been gouged out, the gold leaf on his body has been stripped of all the gold leaf, and the bronze statue stands lonely in the middle of the square, with a swallow that has been curled up for a long time at his feet.

"Wow! The painting is beautiful, but the painter is too dark. ”

Yu Zujia, who returned beside him, let out an exclamation.

I feel the same way.

The delicate lines in the painting are full of sensuality, the colors and compositions are avant-garde and gorgeous, but the painter's gaze is cold and unforgiving.

In the fairy tale, the sleeping beauty is awakened by the prince's love, and the happy prince is satisfied with giving his wealth to the poor, but the painter's gaze on them flashes with a cold light.

This icy glow enveloped every painting in the exhibition room, and the paintings that followed these still lifes, including those of fantasy.

"I seem to have seen similar news, but I didn't expect to be seated, and I didn't expect that the victim of our husband and godson was actually a talented female painter-" Yu Zujia said suddenly, relieving my depression, I felt the doubt in his heart, after all, this was too coincidental.

In fact, there are countless people in Chinese and foreign history who were unknown during their lifetimes and who have been immortalized after their deaths, such as Saladin, the god of war of the Green Religion, who might have spent his life in obscurity in Damascus if it were not for his uncle Sherkuh who took him to the Egyptian campaign in 1160 and made him a conqueror who fought for Islam. This kind of wasted years, the phenomenon of becoming famous in one fell swoop is more common especially in the art world, there are countless great painters and great writers who have been buried, there are well-known Van Gogh in foreign countries, and there are many examples in each era from the Qin and Han dynasties to the Republic of China era in their own countries.

After all, the value of art should be beyond life and history. Many people said that they would destroy all their paintings and calligraphy, but in the end, their families did not do what they wanted, so we were given a chance to re-acquaint themselves with the other side. Liu Yaoyong sighed, "No wonder you can't think of it, after all, in recent years, my little mother has gradually faded out of the artist circle, and before my accident, she hadn't officially painted for a long time." ”

"Oh?" Yu Zujia's tone was hesitant, "Then why did she suddenly ......?"

"Later...... My mother seemed to anticipate her imminent death, so she began to paint day and night. After stepping into the field, the sick man in front of me said the amazing events in a flat tone one after another, so that Yu Zujia and I didn't know what to do, especially me, a little ordinary person. Since Mu Tongtong's bloody case, this series of events has been enough to surprise me for a whole year, and I can't imagine that this is the world I am usually familiar with. Since putting that name in my heart, she is changing our destiny step by step.

"I woke up two days ago, and the doctors said it was a medical miracle, but I would rather I hadn't woken up because I forgot a lot of things and missed a lot", Liu Yaoyong sighed, completely changing my inherent impression of him, "What makes me most painful is that I didn't even have time to see the last side of my little mother, as if she woke me up with her own life as a sacrifice...... My sister told me that the works on display in the posthumous exhibition were all completed by my mother more than a week before she passed away.

At that time, she did it with an unusually astonishing momentum. In the past, she always spent her energy in painting bit by bit, and slowly completed her works, which was similar to her at that time. It also includes a number of sketches that are not suitable for exhibition. Each sketch is the same – a woman lying on her stomach beside a red lotus-like flame. My mother painted dozens of sketches of her own death, and the finished product is there...... Promise. ”

More than a week? It was during the period when Zhu Qi showed a tendency to mental problems that an inexplicable sense of uneasiness hit my stomach again. I subconsciously looked in the direction of Liu Yaoyong's finger, and for a moment, I only felt the temperature around me drop, and the air became cold. The painting, which we subconsciously ignore, depicts a room that seems to be shrouded in cloudy skies all the time.

Empty and lonely room.

The season should be now, it's the end of summer. The high-rise buildings swallowed by the vista and the low rooftops seem to be squatting on the top. Deep gray and pale pink intertwine into a gloomy red lotus-like flame that seems to melt into the heavy ceiling with only a few glimmers left.

The picture is a bit bleak, which makes the viewer feel depressed. I feel more and more uncomfortable.

It's so hot, so hot that it's unbearable.

For some reason, I couldn't look at the painting in front of me.

There was a lingering heaviness to that painting. However, there is a strange heat in it that is like a smoldering fire, which makes people feel fascinated.

I looked away, and the other paintings came into view, all oil paintings. Bland, similar landscape paintings.

All the works seem to be based on the same place. The living room of summer, full of empty burnout, the season of losing color. Several in a row are of similar composition. In an instant, I had the illusion that the entire exhibition hall was an oil painting.

A short-lived sunny day, flying insects chasing the flames of red lotuses, people strolling around their rooms, and children playing are peaceful scenes everywhere.

However, each painting made me feel inexplicably frightened.

On the floor of the painting, a woman in a white gauze dress sits, leaning forward with her arms outstretched—just like Gu Li in "Little Times", practicing yoga calmly, her eyes half-open and half-closed, indulging in the reverie of the mysterious atmosphere.

With long flowing hair, a moon-like face, and a supple and handsome figure, although it looks a little cold, it is full of charming charm. She is the gift that has appeared in the dreams of countless men. But no matter from the posture, clothing, and figure, I felt that this woman was familiar, and I walked over and stood on the side, observing from another angle.

The painting depicts a large area of white suddenly yellowing in the backlight, leaning forward to the woman who is about to fall to the ground with both hands, her eyes turning red and flashing sharply. Like a beast, it wriggles and chases, and the target is me!

The painting lunged at me, intending to catch me. In the blink of an eye, the larger and larger paintings approached me. It's easy and powerful.

Another light flickered in the flames. It is like a fireworks burst in the sky, emitting a brilliant and dazzling light, and then instantly returning to darkness.

The firelight in my face covered the ceiling like a bright red carpet, and I took a step back, feeling breathless, so sad, like I was in an abyss from which I could not escape.

Let's save the world with "Pretending to be a Ghost", please collect and vote, share to the WeChat group, and share the circle of friends to earn points—

When I opened my eyes, they were rightfully empty, and I couldn't help but wipe my sweat desperately.

It's too exaggerated, it's actually hallucinating in broad daylight, isn't it air circulation? There are so many people in the exhibition hall, the air conditioner should be turned on stronger!

So thirsty. The body is getting heavier and heavier, and the acid is constantly pouring from the stomach up the throat.

The black summer shirt on his body was soaked with sweat. Yes! Yes! It's so sad!

It's a big fire—I've got to run away!

I was shocked to think about it.

Escape? Where to escape?

- Get out of here! Hurry back and get away from here. Hurry up! It's still too late.

The voices of Yu Zujia and Liu Yaoyong talking were far away from me, but I could hear the whispers of the people around me looking at the paintings, and I could see them at a glance, and the dealers and painters, enthusiasts and critics, who seemed to be absent-minded and as if they were enjoying themselves. With a hint of poisonous malice under their cheerful and radiant expressions, it is the unique atmosphere of the exhibition.

The frame begins to twist and deform, up and up.

It's hot, it's so hot here. Look, I'll just say, the painting is going to melt! I turned my head back slightly, and saw the burning flames burning the paper step by step. No, it was the flame of the red lotus that rose and fell like a wave from the painting, the hot wind blew radially from the center, and the flames that were stirred up scattered and disappeared into the air like feathers. The brilliance stood in the space where the flames vanished, and the residual hot wind made the woman's hair fly, reminiscent of the flames of purgatory.

The faces of the people around him began to distort. The glasses and ties are all deformed and shaking in waves, like a mirage, getting more and more blurred. The floor rotates in circles, faster and faster. The crowd was noisy and getting more and more harsh.

I have to get out of here!

I took a step and tried to move my body. But when I thought about running, my head hurt so much. This is probably due to sore shoulders, but when the sore shoulders and neck are severe, headaches can also occur. But why are shoulders so sore? Is it because you've moved heavy loads?

The body is completely unresponsive. I staggered along, as if I had bumped into someone, and I knew people were looking at me staggering in amazement.

I don't have time for any of this now, I just want to get out of this venue right away.

The crowd was noisy, and the voices that were harsher and stronger than the previous ones seemed to be speeding towards me, and now they had become deafening noises, echoing around me.

Let me out! Get me out of here!

I was completely in a panic. The sound of my heartbeat fluttering and pounding through my body at a strange speed, ringing in every part of my body. There was an urge that made me want to cry out loud, and if I couldn't get out, I would be captured by the flames!

A few more steps was the exit, but my escape failed again.

The moment I turned the corner and raised my head, that painting was waiting for me.

This should be the last and largest painting to hang in the gallery of the exhibition.

Fire!

A fire erupts in the painting! Red lotus flames licked the ceiling with a sound. The dark, fiery colors approached with a sharp momentum, and I couldn't help but look around, subconsciously raising my hands in defense.

I felt like I was on fire all over my body, and the flames began to burn, wrapping around my body's blood muscles, making a thunderclap sound and a burnt smell. And then...... The flames turned into a woman's human form and surrounded me!

First my defending hands were entwined by the fiery serpent, and I tried to withdraw them, but I could only move them slightly, and I felt that my hands were completely paralyzed and I had lost all resistance. Unable to pull my hand away, I was pulled closer to the flame woman, whose flames had completely enveloped my arm, and its arm had become one with mine.

It pulled me against myself, and the strong smell of blood made me dizzy, and the fear in my heart felt like it was going to tear itself apart. After sticking to me, the woman's body also began to become oily, and the red oil climbed on top of me and began to conquer the city. I felt my whole body paralyzed, and the oily area grew larger, bypassing my slender legs, tall and upturned hips, snake-like willowy waist and delicate back muscles, gradually dissolving with me. I evoke a realization that she is going to occupy my youthful body!

I struggled as hard as I could, trying to twist my body to escape, but I could only turn a fraction of a minute, and I couldn't stop myself from being slowly possessed. It was worse than death, and I screamed in horror as I watched myself being devoured by such a horrible creature, little by little. Screams of horror resounded throughout the field, but no one heard them.

Suddenly, on the other side of the light I saw something.

- It's the hand.

Someone raised his hand in the air...... Holding an object in your hand.

It's a pistol!

The hand held a huge, shiny pistol.

The huge, seemingly sharp pistol fired!

The bullet gradually picked up speed, closing in on her who had become one with me.

Call! The sound of tearing through the air swept through my ears. A strong impact slashed across the neck.

Poof! Bright red colors splashed and filled my vision.

It was this pistol that killed her!

…… Me, am I dead?

Someone screamed in my ear.

"Little girl, wake up!"

A pair of hands grabbed me and shook me desperately, a familiar sound came to my ears, and then I realized that I could breathe, and I wanted to respond audibly, but I lost the ability to speak, and I kept opening and closing my lips like a goldfish. Finally, my lips that seemed to be glued to the tooth plate could move.

I heard strange voices, but in the blurring scenery before me, I realized that it was my own wail.

What just happened?

Yu Zujia whispered to me that as soon as I stood there, Liu Yaoyong came over and continued his comments pointing out the country, Yu Zujia was also happy to talk, but unexpectedly changed rapidly. I thought about it and told him that I was just a little anemic so I fainted temporarily, and it was fine, but I knew it wasn't, was the scene just now a hallucination? Is it Jephiah? Why is it so true? Zhu Qi, do you want to tell us something? If it wasn't for that shot, what would I be doing now? I don't want to know at all.

The closing time of the exhibition is approaching, and in the radio prompt, people are going out in twos and threes, and the dialogue between Yu Zujia and Liu Yaoyong continues. Although I didn't want to stay here at all, Liu Yaoyong didn't leave, just stood and talked to us coldly.

"Where are you going to move, we might be visiting us soon?"

"No, why should I move?" Liu Yaoyong looked at us vigilantly.

“…… I thought the house was the scene of the crime now. Yu Zujia was really surprised.

"That's right, it's the scene of the crime. But I'm still going to live there. There is an indescribable firmness in Liu Yaoyong's words.

"Wouldn't that be inconvenient? After all...... It's a murderous house. ”

"Will it? I don't think so. Liu Yaoyong's tone was as indifferent as a dead man.

"Oh, it's good if you don't think so. Anyway, the police have already determined that your little mother committed suicide...... You're not a suspect. If you want to live, you can live. Yu Zujia's words were tricked, but the other party didn't seem to bite the hook.

Frightened, I shrugged my shoulders and struck on the side. "Actually, I think he just thinks that you live in a house with your half-sister. Even if the brother and sister have a good relationship, it is inevitable that some people will gossip. You must know that there are many people who are popular, not to mention that the rich area is indispensable to the idle Mrs. Kuo, the short long-tongued woman in the family, they are the illegitimate daughters of gossip, and the natural enemies of all the secrets in the world! ”

According to my perception in the General Hospital of the Military Region, it seems that Liu Xijun is just a simple brother, and the rest of the Liu family knows nothing about it, but people's hearts are separated from their stomachs, and now I don't dare to pack tickets, can I use this as a direction for detection?

"Hmph, let them go, I didn't do anything bad anyway." Unexpectedly, Liu Yaoyong didn't react at all when he heard Liu Xijun's name, which reminded me of a very bloody possibility, could it be?

"Yes, as many people suspected...... I have amnesia. Liu Yaoyong's voice was as flat as water.

The so-called amnesia refers to the disruption of consciousness, memory, identity, or normal integration function of the environment caused by brain trauma and blows, thus causing distress to life, and these symptoms cannot be explained by physiological factors.

According to Liu Yaoyong's self-report, although he was pulled back from the line of death, he also lost his memory due to the severe impact on his brain, and unlike the simple symptoms of amnesia, he even lost his consciousness and thinking ability and feelings at first, and became a wasted person. However, he seems to still have memories of how to live and rest, and the doctor deduces that it should be dissociative amnesia. The most common condition is amnesia of personal identity, in which the patient is unable to recall previous lives or personalities, and mainly loses memories of the past, especially traumatic life events. But the memory of general information is complete.

I still saw this strange term in "Memory Rift", weird and unreal, according to the movie tidbits, the reason why dissociative amnesia is controversial is because the patient's behavior is usually understood as a dual personality, multiple personality, patients with this disease usually have more than two personalities, at different times a certain personality will become the main personality, and ignore each other, when one personality appears, the other personality disappears. Two personalities have their own memories, emotions, behavior patterns, attitudes, etc., and they are often very different, as if two souls dwell in the same body.

The outward manifestation is that patients often leave their original home or job and travel to another unfamiliar place to establish another family or work. When they are found, they already have a new "self", but they are unable to remember important information about their past such as their old name, family, and job, and the new self does not interact with the old self.

Another reason why it is so rare is that it usually occurs after a war or major catastrophic event. It's really a must-have miracle for home travel to kill people and kill mouths!

In fact, it's okay, Liu Yaoyong said to himself, so I don't have to think hard about what kind of person I was in the past, what happened before I fell from the building? Have I hurt anyone?

"Later, Xijun said to me, there are some things I didn't want you to recall, sometimes, amnesia can make you forget the pain of the past. But after the loss of a loved one, you need to force yourself to think about it and find the truth! ”

So Liu Yaoyong desperately recalled the conversations between other people and him before that day, trying to find keywords that could awaken his memory.

Sounds very reliable, at least I watched the domineering president drama starring Xiao Xianrou, and this is how the treatment of the heroine's amnesia is done, of course, the simpler and clearer way is to drink it first!

I...... It's Liu Yaoyong...... Here's what they told me!

I don't know my name.

I can't remember how old I was or where I would have lived.

I felt like I was seriously ill. When he came back to life, his head burned out, and he didn't remember anything before.

So, everything about me before I fell down the building was told to me by others. I don't know if it's true or not, and of course, I don't think they have any reason to lie to me.

After debridement, I became so ugly. They showed me pictures of the past, and they didn't look like me at all. His hair was yellow and dry, his whole body was unhuman-shaped, his cheeks were covered with red patches, and he had acne.

In the photo, I am a school grass level, with long black hair and no acne on my face at all. Now I feel like a different person.

I used to have my father and my mother, but they are not with me now. My father was always busy, or in meetings, or for some reason, and went far away...... Or maybe it's just an excuse not to see me, and after that, my mom also died, and then my sister was left alone in the house, and I, almost died. So, I now live in what is known as the best surgical hospital in the capital.

I'm surrounded by special people like doctors, nurses, and psychologists, and no matter how hard I try, I can't like them. I especially hate the smell of disinfectant on the doctor's white clothes.

I hate the psychiatrist even more, he always asks me some questions that I have to answer, he always has a smirk on his face, and he thinks things that are completely different from what he says.

But I have to live here, and I have nowhere to go unless my father comes back and signs to be discharged. From the very beginning, I was desperate for my father to come back as soon as possible.

Gradually, I began to question everything. Because I can't think of anything about the home where my father and my mother live with me. Even if my father came back, I probably didn't know him.

I don't think my father would have recognized me. Because my face had become so strange, it was completely different from what my father had seen me before the incident.

Even if the doctor makes us recognize, will we still be able to live together? Will we really be happy?

The more I thought about it, the more my head hurt, and I couldn't think of anything at all. I seem to be still struggling on the line of death, and the doctor has cured my trauma and can't cure my heart disease. The doctors may not be able to let me see my father until my heart disease is cured.

The doctor would give me medicine every day. When you have a headache, when you can't sleep, and when you are upset, you have to take medicine. But I don't like to take medicine because I've taken so many pills and my condition hasn't gotten better at all. And, even if I ask:

"How can I remember the past?"

They will only perfunctory me.

"You don't have to force yourself to think about it. After a while, it will naturally come to mind. "

If you think about it naturally, you should be able to think of something by now. As soon as I felt upset, I would tear the sheets or bite the nurse, and as a result, the medical staff would be angry.

So, I turned my attention to female psychiatrists. Of course, it's because I think this woman must know about my father and my mother. But this person always didn't say a word, and kept me talking. What she ate yesterday, whether she slept well, whether she dreamed or not, she always asked these boring questions.

I'm alone in a hospital room, and I don't even have access to the internet, what can I do? You can only watch some old-fashioned newspaper stories, listen to classical music on the radio, and you can neither listen to Internet radio nor watch television. That's right, I know it's the most boring thing in the world. But if you ask me which shows I've watched before, I can't answer.

I can't go anywhere, how can I sleep well? Sometimes, I had a terrible headache, but I didn't feel sick at all except that I couldn't remember anything. The lights went out early in the hospital, which made me even more sleepless.

Once you fall asleep, you don't dream. I started to get upset again and wanted to tear the pillow to shreds.

If I did, the psychiatrist would turn around and leave, so I tried to be as good as I could and tried to ask about my father. But things didn't go so well. She always digressed from the subject, as if she had seen through my ruse.

As far as I can remember, this is already the third psychiatrist. Whenever I lose my temper and say, "I don't want to see you again." "There's going to be a new psychiatrist coming in. No matter how many people are changed, everyone is the same, whether it is a man or a woman, they all behave very kindly, although their faces are full of smiles, but their eyes are not smiling at all.

Lately, as soon as I hear the voices of those people, I feel very angry. Although they always say nice things and say they want to help me all day long, they don't seem to want me to regain my memory. I think that being locked up in this kind of hospital makes me even more reminiscent of the past.

The daily medication probably didn't help my condition either. Because, every time I take medicine, I want to sleep, and my head is groggy, as if covered with a layer of fog. I suspect that this medicine will not cure my illness, but will make me unable to think of anything. So, I don't eat anymore.

To be honest, pretending to be drugged is not an easy task to hide from others, because as long as the nurse is around, I have to pretend to be the same stupid as before. So, I tried to remember the past.

The memory is really strange, I can't remember my name, I can't remember anything about my father and my mother, but when I saw the apple, I knew it was an apple. When you go to the toilet, you also know how to use it. Why aren't these things forgotten? I don't understand it at all.

But thankfully. How terrible it would be if I became a living dead who couldn't remember anything, couldn't do anything, couldn't even eat by myself, and lay in bed all day! If that's the case, I don't want to live, no, it's not alive at all.

Uh-huh, that's weird. Why do I think of the bedridden living dead? It seems that there will be such people around me. But I couldn't remember her face, I didn't know her name, and I felt very uncomfortable.

But lately, I've finally started to slowly recall a lot of things. Even though I had a splitting headache, even though I secretly threw away the medicine I brought, even though I couldn't sleep at night, and I was so upset that I didn't know what to do, I tried to hide it so that no one would notice. Gradually, from time to time, something like a painting floats in front of me.

It's a bit like the petals of a peach blossom falling from a branch. Of course, each painting is much larger than the petals, sometimes frontal and sometimes reversed, so that even with your eyes wide open, you can't see it clearly. The feeling of impatience in the daytime is similar to the feeling of falling petals.

In the past, I seemed to watch the peach blossoms fall under the tall peach blossom tree. I reached out and tried to grab the falling petals, but the petals were so small that they slipped through my fingers and disappeared, making me anxious.

Why the hurry? Because, someone is waiting for me. Moreover, the man rebuked me in a very fierce voice: Move faster! I was scared of that voice because I knew I had to listen to the other person. But the peach blossoms are so beautiful that I can't bear to leave. At the very least, I want to be able to grab a petal and show it.

Who is it for? ——

I opened my hands and snapped them together as if I were grasping a butterfly. I thought to myself, I finally caught the flower.

I was so happy that I let out a "giggle" laugh. Turned to the man and said, look. Look, isn't it beautiful?

However, I shouldn't have made a sound. The man who was standing at the other end of the peach blossom petals fluttering in the wind and looking at me had a terrible expression on his face. I felt as if the man was wearing a twisted mask.

Who told me that there is a ghost under the peach blossom tree? But even if there were ghosts there, it didn't look like the kind of ghosts that appeared in ghost stories, and it didn't have a saltless appearance, but was wearing home clothes. Tied with a belt, black hair, coiled hair a little scattered, hair strands fluttering with the wind of petals.

It seems to be a woman. But I don't recognize that face. Her brow was tightly knit, and under her drooping eyelids, she had a pair of shiny, blood-colored eyes, and the corners of her mouth hung upwards with a smile on her face, revealing a row of fangs.

She was a female ghost, a woman possessed by the devil, a woman who sold her soul to the devil, standing under a tree and looking at me.

"It's horrible—"

I hurriedly closed my eyes and immediately crouched down, buried my face in my knees, and shrunk into a ball. Because as long as I get small enough, the ghosts may not be able to see me. Please, please, don't come here. Don't see me. Disappear somewhere else.

Where the hell did the person waiting for me go?

Come back, come back!

Take me home!

Please—

Then.

I heard a loud bang.

Huge, like the sound of fireworks.

Then bright red flowers bloomed.

The flower bloomed before my eyes.

So, I didn't know anything.

I can only recall these things. But I still don't understand what the meaning of these scenarios is.

This book has been put on the shelves, I hope you will go to the [Pretend to be a Gentleman] Panda to read the page of the book after reading the chapters to give support, every click, every collection, every monthly pass, every comment, every subscription is a great support for "Pretending to be a Ghost", and it is also the motivation for the author Potemkin to write.