There is a place in the history of mankind that has always been at the extreme of imagination. The name of that place is also known in many different ways depending on the religion and culture. Some call it Heaven, some call it Elysium, some call it Destiny, and some call it Pure Land.

10,000 people, 10,000 ideas for that place. Although the ideas are different, there are still many things in common, such as that place is free of pain, no oppression, and life will be carefree. There are many great men and strong men who once wanted to build such a social system in the world, and for the sake of this society, thousands of people were involved in it, and the blood was like a river, and the lives were ruined. In the end, it was nothing more than a living hell.

So, how did such a place come to be, what kind of state did it be, and how did it get there? No one knows.

And now Xie Ling said that he had been to that kind of world in the delusional realm. Not only has he been there, but Liang Xiaoqiu has also been there in the case of psychic.

I asked him what the Pure Land was, and he didn't say anything, but just told me that since ancient times, he didn't ask about delusion, and even the master didn't ask about the apprentice's delusional realm, so don't ask.

I deliberately provoked him to say, in fact, there is no pure land at all, it is all nonsense, it is your imagination.

What about the world designed by Liang Xiaoqiu? Is it also what he imagined? How did it just happen that the two of us thought of it together? Xie Ling asked.

It's normal for two people to imagine overlapping, and it's not unusual. I didn't have the heart to argue with him, and suddenly a question came to mind, why did Fan Xiong's photograph appear in the world painted by Liang Xiaoqiu? Could it be that there really is such a place?

I told my doubts. Xie Ling nodded: If such a place really exists in a certain space, we can put the clues together. Fan Xiong once took a photo in that place and gave it to Mr. Zheng; Liang Xiaoqiu was psychic under the influence of the Holy Aunt's spell, and also entered that world, and after returning home, he carried out some kind of restoration. There is a key person here, which is the Holy Aunt. It is likely that she has mastered some kind of method that will allow people to enter the Pure Land World.

I thought of a key point and asked him: What about you? When you broke your delusion, there was no holy aunt, why could you go to that world on your own without her guidance?

Xie Ling looked at the sky outside, and said faintly: Do you remember the first time you heard the tape of the Shenggu when Liu Dong committed suicide, I once said that this voice is very familiar.

You seem to have said that.

This holy aunt is probably someone I once knew a long time ago. It's likely that she's been subconsciously influencing me all along. It should not be by chance that I was able to enter that Pure Land world in the delusional realm.

I was stunned: Do you remember who it is?

Xie Ling shook his head: It's been a long, long time, and I can't remember it now.

He said this like a centenarian, and his tone was extremely vicissitudes, but I know that he is only thirty years old, why does he feel this way?

Based on my experience, Xie Ling said: It is not so easy to reach that Pure Land, and it is necessary to go through the process of purgatory. Do you still remember Liang Xiaoqiu's painting, the sea of fire and black mountains are vast and watery, like Tang Seng can only reach Lingshan after passing through nine hundred and eighty-one difficulties. This process is not easy, people will die, and many people will die.

Speaking of Tang Seng, I suddenly remembered one thing, patted my leg and said: Do you still remember that you once let Liu Dong's blind ghost come to my body. I saw the scene of him before he died.

Xie Ling nodded.

Before he died, he was reading a very old book, with ancient paintings painted on it, with pavilions and pavilions, countless palaces, hidden in the sea of clouds, not far away is the vast river, and there are many wooden boats moving forward in the river. Could this excerpt be the Pure Land world?

Xie Ling was thoughtful. At this time, my phone rang at the same time as his phone. I went outside to answer the phone, and the call was from the supervisor, who coldly told me that I was fired, and asked me to find time to settle my salary in the past two days. I didn't talk nonsense, I answered and hung up the phone.

I was a little dazed in my heart, do I really want to reconcile with the bell in the future? I don't have anything left now.

I don't want to rely on him, so what can I do? I walked into a dead end in my life.

Xie Ling came over and said: Lao Liang called just now and asked us to go to the hotel, and he had already booked a private room. I was so preoccupied that I casually responded.

He looked at me: What's wrong? You don't know what you're worried about. As soon as you say you want to open it, it will be cloudy again.

I sighed and said, "I'm laid off."

Xie Ling laughed and patted me: Let's go, solve the stomach problem first.

Mr. Liang is still quite sensible, arranged a table of hard dishes, and during eating and drinking, he told us that his son Liang Xiaoqiu had woken up, and he spoke and was in a state like a normal child, which made his mother laugh at home. He would like to thank us in particular.

At the dinner table, Xie Ling asked him where Fan Xiong's studio was. Mr. Liang was very enthusiastic to write down the address with a pen, which was on the cultural street of our city.

This street has been developed in recent years, close to the cultural market, which gathers all kinds of cultural units, including those selling antiques, modern paintings, and old books, and the street is also well built. It's really dark under the lights, we thought about it for a long time, but we didn't expect Fan Xiong to be in such a place.

Without further ado, I rested for the night, and the next day I reconciled with the bell and went to Fan Xiong's studio.

There is a hutong on Culture Street, full of painters' studios, most of them are two-story buildings, and the exterior walls are covered with various graffiti, which looks quite New Yorker-like. We searched according to the map and found Fan Xiong's studio. I'm a little nervous, and I'm going to face Fan Xiong soon.

Before I could walk in, I saw that the door was open, and it was deserted inside.

In the doorway sat an old man with sleeves, reading glasses, and a calculator in his hand, concentrating on something.

We went over to say hello and asked if Fan Xiong lived here?

The old man squinted at us and suddenly realized: You are art dealers, right? Hurry in, pick and choose the paintings hanging inside.

What about Fan Xiong? Uncle. I asked.

The old man said something that almost choked us: dead.

What the hell?! I almost jumped: Fan Xiong died?

What the hell do you do? The old man spoke sternly.

Xie Ling hurriedly said: Uncle, we are all from the northwest, and my friend said that there are a number of paintings to be sold here, all of which are written by the great painter Fan Xiong. We came all the way, but we didn't expect Fan Xiong to die. How did she die?

The old man nodded: I don't blame you. Fan Xiong committed suicide, left a suicide note, climbed the bridge in the middle of the night and jumped into the river. These artists are so weird, they want to play one play at a time, and they die so specially. In her suicide note, she said that she gave the right to entrust the paintings to the streets, and the money from the sale was donated to the nursing homes and children in the mountain villages, and from this point of view, this person is not bad.

She said that if she committed suicide, she would have committed suicide, and maybe she had absconded. I don't believe it.

The old man said: The young man still raised the bar, and a few days after her death, he sold a pass: he found a soaked female corpse in the river, and dragged it out to identify what A, it was Fan Xiong.

Where did you find the female corpse? I asked.

The old man frowned: Are you here to solve the case, or are you here to buy paintings?

The bell pulled me inside, and if I said too much, I would lose it. The decoration of Fan Xiong's studio is really good, the entrance is the hall, and some of her masterpieces are hung on the wall. There are already a few people who are judging the paintings, both men and women, and their temperament is like engaging in art.

Xie Ling looked at Fan Xiong's painting for the first time, swept it around, and couldn't help but praise: It's really a big guy.

Fan Xiong's paintings have a special appeal and shocking power, and there is an indescribable enthusiasm burning in them. Each of her paintings is rich and colorful, and it is very gorgeous, as if the saturation is exploded in PS. At first glance, there is a kind of kaleidoscope of blur.

In the center of the wall hang three of her heavyweight masterpieces, all with price tags underneath. The one in the middle is called "Library" and is priced at 500,000 yuan.

The painting is of the reading room of the library, the rows of bookshelves, because of the use of extremely subtle perspective relationships, the arrangement of the bookshelves has a sense of progressive and deep. And the bookshelves are arranged in sharp and straight lines, which looks very cold, with a chill of postmodern industrialization. At the end of all the bookshelves, sat a woman.

This painting uses a very cold technique to depict the intense emotions that rush like fire.

When I saw this woman, I was stunned, and my eyes were focused on her for a long time.

Xie Ling saw that there was something wrong and asked me what was wrong.

I couldn't tell him, because the woman in the painting was the mysterious Lei Lei.