The Lost Mermaid [Zhongyingmei]

Ruth's eyelashes trembled slightly, and she asked, "Auction? Carl, did you and Doris meet at the auction? What a pity, if I hadn't gone to the country with my mother that day, I would have known Doris earlier gone."

The smile on Karl's lips froze suddenly, and he ignored her.

1900 looked at Hockley coldly, and pushed Doris' wheelchair to continue walking in. Crowley saw that the atmosphere was cold and weird, and added: "Mr. You don't have to doubt the sincerity of your suitor, even the priceless ocean—"

"We didn't meet at the auction."

Doris interrupted Crowley, she raised her head and looked at Ruth: "Ruth, as early as January, Mr. Hockley came to my residence to please you, and wanted to We discussed giving up the competition!"

Her tone was calm, her eyes were like the surface of the sea before a storm, calm but undercurrents.

"Carl?" Ruth looked puzzled and tugged at the sleeve of the man beside her.

"Mr. Hockley hasn't told you yet? Oh...sorry, it seems that I spoiled the surprise that Mr. Hockley wanted to give you." Doris manipulated the wheelchair and turned a corner. At this time, they happened to reach the end of the aisle intersection.

"I won't bother you guys anymore." Doris changed her brisk tone, "By the way, I didn't suffer from any illness, because of an accident, my legs became inconvenient to walk, and my voice became like a crow It's just as ugly. Ruth, my dear, I still want to thank you for caring about me, but... I've long since given up useless treatments, even though I can no longer run and dance in the sun, which is my fate."

Ruth's eyes widened.

Doris had a disapproving smile on her face, but her heart was struggling to breathe. She felt as if a hand was holding a blunt knife, slowly and deeply drawing bloodstains on her heart.

Mermaids unreservedly exposed their flaws to humans.

Like a dying fish, it can only turn out its white belly, waiting for the butcher's sharp knife.

Doris watched Ruth's eyes become moist, sympathy and pity were clearly written on her face, and she knew that what she just said hit Ruth's weakness - freedom.

'Yes, Ruth's closeness and sympathy was what I needed. '

Doris advised herself like this, but she dared not look at the people around Ruth.Whether there will be disgust, contempt and indifference. 1900 lowered his eyes, pushed Doris' wheelchair, and nodded with the astonished Crowley. After saying hello, he left the "lover".

Hearing the sound of the wheelchair getting farther and farther away, Hockley finally came to his senses, ignored the woman beside him, and strode away towards the other direction of the intersection—even though what he said just now was so affectionate and beautiful.

"Carl! Wait for me!" Ruth's hand was thrown away, she was startled, but the long skirt and high-heeled shoes prevented her from keeping up with his pace.

"Stay away from me!" Hockley turned around and growled.

Ruth looked at him in surprise, and when he yelled at him, Hockley frowned, realizing his faux pas.He opened his mouth, and the words of apology stayed on his lips, but he still didn't say it.He tore off the neckline irritably, leaving only one sentence: "Look at the paintings yourself, buy what you like, and Chouilov will give you a check."

Ruth shook her head in disbelief.

The venue of the art exhibition was built into a labyrinth, with new paintings hanging on the white partition walls. Crowley took on the responsibility of the inviter and quietly introduced the oil paintings on display to the Bodman brothers and sisters.

"This is Picasso's new work - the Girl of Avignon. Look, what a terrifying and impactful picture expression, cubist paintings are very worth investing in." Crowley put his hands behind his back, looking at the white wall in front of him paintings, admired.

On the painting are five prostitutes of different shapes, without a single thread on their bodies.The artist did not clearly describe their figures, but used diamond-shaped geometric figures to variably show their distorted postures.

Doris didn't know any doctrines or genres. The Jack I met on the pier that day—let's call him a painter. His charcoal characters are lifelike and detailed, which are completely different from the one in front of me.

But Doris was still shocked by the painting in front of her.

The prostitutes in the painting are indifferent and dull, like walking dead, disgusting.There was no smile on their faces, just a frightening numbness.

"They are so poor." Doris asked with a trembling voice, "Can I buy this painting?"

Girls who have lost their freedom and love are like ghosts crawling out of hell.