Paintings of Terror

The weather is as cold as it sounds, and after a few autumn rains, it's time to wear sweaters in a blink of an eye.

"Benxin Art Museum" is located in an old third-tier city. It is rare that there is a street with a strong academic atmosphere here, and what is even more rare is that the shops here are all privately owned.

The Benxin Art Museum is located between the Benxin Library and the Benxin Cinema. Judging from the name, the operator should belong to the same owner.

老板似乎非常任性，艺术馆的营业时间居然在晚上21:00到第二天清晨9:00，门票30元。

This is also the first fee-paying art museum experienced by several people.

Wei Dong glanced at the business hours on the door of the art museum: "I've raised my posture, it's the first time I've seen a nightclub-style art museum."

More people's eyes are attracted by the eye-catching billboard at the door-the theme of this weekend's art exhibition: late autumn, talk about a mature love.

There is another small print next to it: The late-night cafeteria of the art museum is open at the same time.

Mu Yiran and Ke Xun, who are wearing the same pullover sweater, stand together, as if they are lovers pursuing petty bourgeois sentiments. After the tension and temptation, they are preparing to "talk about a mature love". The colors of the two are also very suitable for late autumn— —Mu Yiran is a dark camel color, and Ke Xun is a warm beige.

"The weekend is the day when we enter the museum," Zhu Haowen said blankly about the cunning of the painting push, "that means we can't see the paintings in advance."

"Unless we contact the owner of the art gallery in advance." It was Qin Ci who spoke.

"Actually, we have already contacted her. The owner is a young girl named Su Benxin." Mu Yiran revealed his "research clues" in the past few days.

"What did the girl say?" It was also the first time for Ke Xun to hear Mu Yiran say this.

Mu Yiran's expression was somewhat helpless: "She said, everyone is welcome to provide paintings enthusiastically. This art gallery is based on free creation. Anyone can put their own artwork in it as long as they think it is suitable, and then mark it with The price you think is right."

"In this way, the fluidity of the art exhibition will be even greater. Maybe new works may be hung at any time on the day of the exhibition." Qin Ci wanted to frowned, but when he looked up, he saw the new moon in the sky, and a glimpse of In the boundless clear night sky, she couldn't help but bend her eyebrows, "Let's resign ourselves to whoever we love."

Everyone was infected by Dr. Qin's rare open-mindedness and optimism. Ke Xun even proposed to go to the nearby movie theater to see it. Anyway, he couldn't wait for a bird to come.

So, the six men came to the small, simple-style movie theater next to it. Luo Wei was the last one.

Movie tickets are very cheap, 15 yuan, and the theater food is not the usual cola popcorn, but hot coffee, date cake, and small packets of orange brown sugar.

There are three films in total, which are played in a loop. The titles of the films are: "Heaven and Earth Xuanhuang", "The Hate of the Guest", and "Princess Sissi".

Wei Dong confessed: "I only watched the last one, my mother loves to watch this film."

"Me too," Ke Xun looked at Mu Yiran, "It's the first time we watched a movie together, and I didn't expect to catch up with such a wave of alternative movies."

"Very good." Mu Yi smiled, like the spring breeze in late autumn.

Ke Xun went to buy tickets in a hurry, and from time to time he turned around and asked everyone: "There are also homemade red bean popsicles here, who will eat them?"

No one eats it, it's too cold.

So, everyone walked into the theater with their own hot coffee, and each chose the appropriate seat according to their eyesight and preferences—Mu Yiran and Ke Xun sat in the penultimate row, and Luo Wei sat in the front row closest to the door The other three sat in the middle of the middle and back row with the most comfortable viewing angle.

There are only these six members in the entire theater, Wei Dong couldn't help but slander: "It feels like it's in a painting."

"The number is wrong." Zhu Haowen continued blankly.

Qin Ci smiled silently, and ate orange brown sugar in a muffled voice beside him. The sugar with the taste of licorice and tangerine peel slowly softened in his mouth, like the taste of childhood.

The theater lights dimmed, and the title of the film appeared on the big screen: Baraka.

"Isn't this the wrong film? Isn't the first film called "Zhi Hu Zhe Ye"?" Wei Dong was very puzzled.

Zhu Haowen said expressionlessly: "It's "Heaven and Earth Xuanhuang"."

"That's about the same~ Now this string of letters is too ridiculous. Although I'm not very good at English, this string of letters should have nothing to do with Tian Di Xuan Huang." The long shot, persisted for a while, didn't understand what was going on, and continued, "Is it, I put the wrong film."

"It's not English, it's ancient Islamic, and Baraka means blessing."

Wei Dong stared blankly at the bewildering scene of the movie, tried hard to think for a while, but was still puzzled, "Ancient Islamic language? I didn't see it, Hao Wen'er, do you still understand this? But what does blessing have to do with heaven and earth mystery?" Woolen cloth?"

"I don't understand Islamic, and I also read this from film reviews. After you watch the whole film, you will feel that the translation of Tian Di Xuan Huang is quite appropriate."

Wei Dong looked at it for a while in a daze: "I really can't stand this kind of silent film, it makes it look like a documentary."

"It's a documentary."

"...Really." Weidong still had a lot of questions, such as why the documentary didn't have an explanation, but he swallowed it anyway-there are too many confusing things in this world, such as painting, how can there still be Is there anything more puzzling than this?

In the past, Wei Dong couldn't watch such a movie for a minute, but now he doesn't feel bored at all. The unspeakable things expressed in the movie may only be deeply felt by going in and out of the painting.

Life and death are impermanent, and reincarnation has a way.

In the second half of the film, Zhu Haowen stood up gently and left the scene without a sound. He opened the side door and found that the wind was very cold. He covered his head with a windbreaker hat, put his hands in his pockets, and gently closed the door with his feet.

The waiting room was small and crude, so Zhu Haowen simply walked to the entrance of the theater, lit a cigarette in the night breeze, and looked at the night sky with peaceful eyes, still expressionless.

After a while, another figure came out of the theater, it was Luo Wei.

The two men stood in the night without speaking for a long time.

"What do you think 'Hua Tui' will do this time?" Unexpectedly, it was Luo Wei who spoke first.

Zhu Haowen looked at the cold stars in the night sky: "None of us can figure out his intentions."

"I thought you were the most willing to guess."

"In the face of this catastrophic game, each of us did not hesitate to rack our brains, because everyone spared their lives."

"You spare your life, but you enjoy this game."

Zhu Haowen smiled: "Maybe."

"Because of this, there may be views that are different from others." Luo Wei's dead eyes contained a desire to win that transcended his nature, and this unlucky "passive calamity" seemed more willing to be interpreted as 'Active revenge'.

Zhu Haowen looked at Luo Wei with serious eyes, but he also knew in his heart that all the warnings at this time would not be listened to by the person in front of him, so he turned his head and took a few puffs of cigarettes. Seemingly jokingly changed the subject: "Do you know Yohji Yamamoto?"

Luo Wei obviously didn't expect the other party's "divine turn", thought for a while and said, "Is he a Japanese? Write reasoning?"

"A Japanese designer's style is called anti-fashion style." Every time Zhu Haowen thinks of this 'anti-fashion style', he feels a little nonsensical - but 'anti-fashion style' is talked about by the 'fashion world'.

As a man of science and technology, Luo Wei doesn't know much about designers and the like, and he's not interested in it. At this moment, he said straightforwardly: "What do you want to say? Will understanding this Japanese help us in the next step of painting?"

"Maybe it didn't help at all, or maybe it helped a lot." Zhu Haowen wanted the other party to calm himself down, so he was not in a hurry to reveal the answer.

Obviously, Luo Wei is in a bad mood, and this feeling has been going on since his girlfriend died in the painting, not thin but strong: "I don't think everyone should settle down and 'watch a movie' now, the art gallery is right in front, The painting we want to enter is in the art museum, as long as we want to enter, we now have a hundred ways to enter! There is no need to wait until 21:00 on weekends!"

Zhu Haowen was not in a hurry, and looked at Luo Wei: "I thought we were still talking about Yohji Yamamoto."

Luo Wei clenched his fists: "How can this Japanese help us?"

"He may help us recognize ourselves." Zhu Haowen's tone was still calm, but his eyes were fixed on Luo Wei, "I never thought that we entered the painting for others, I mean, for anyone else."

Luo Wei's frown did not loosen, but his tone softened a little: "Myself, this scope is too broad. Sometimes my own definition can include others, and even the world."

Zhu Haowen smiled slightly, and did not follow the topic, but said in a calm tone: "Let's talk about Yohji Yamamoto, this person once said something—"I am invisible, and when I hit something powerful Only by bouncing back can you understand your 'self'. So, colliding with something strong, scary, and high-level, and then you will know what your 'self' is. This is the ego.'”

For a long time, Luo Wei didn't make a sound, and Zhu Haowen didn't say anything either.

Under the boundless night, two men stood at the gate of the old cinema in the old city, like a sketch that had been put aside for a long time, the ink color faded to a pale yellow, and it looked like tea stains that were accidentally knocked over one night and could not be wiped off It can't be erased, so it is pressed under the glass plate with brand marks, and it lasts for many years.

The night swallowed everything, but Zhu Haowen still heard the other party say: "Thank you."