Paintings of Terror

"I got a ticket worth 30 yuan for nothing, and I actually feel that I have earned it." Wei Dong found that he had fallen into the trap of painting and tweeting and couldn't extricate himself—just like the initial symptoms of a Stockholm patient.

The design of the ticket is very simple, more like a ready-made greeting card, except that the stamp of "Benxin Art Museum" and a digital date stamp are stamped on it.

Qin Ci looked at the art museum, which became more and more lively as it got later. Today is the weekend, and there are twice as many visitors as usual.

Ke Xun had already reached the door, and tilted his head to look at his companions behind him, as if saying: Come on, let's go in to Lianba Lianba?

Zhu Haowen was infected by Ke Xun, and there was a smile on his face unconsciously - he couldn't tell how many times he had smiled like this, the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably, before he met Ke Xun, this was unique.

Zhu Haowen cleared his throat secretly, put on his usual expressionless face, and followed Weidong into the art gallery with his head buried.

The interior decoration of the museum is the "absolute poverty style" that is popular now, with rough terrazzo walls, unadorned log tables and chairs, and bare light tubes hanging from the high ceiling. It looks like a factory workshop in the 80s. The "workshop" is decorated everywhere. Withered vines like a wilderness, to show the existence of its artistic intention.

"What a 'wabi-sabi'!" A Mori girl with shawl hair exclaimed in admiration.

Looking at the overly simple walls, Wei Dong murmured, "It's pretty bad (wabi-sabi)."

Zhu Haowen opened his mouth slightly when he heard his companion's words, but finally remained silent.

The companion of the Mori girl—a slender boy in a slim long shirt, raised his thin-rimmed pale white glasses: "Simple and quiet, a bit Zen-like."

Wei Dong walked past him, only to realize that the "boy" was a girl, and then he heard the "boyish girl" say, "I didn't expect there to be so many pioneering works of art."

Artwork today is indeed avant-garde.

Several people walked past a pile of distorted root carvings on the ground, only to find a label standing: the work "Lian Lian", priced at "12,000 RMB".

In front is another pile of wool balls, inside which are several strangely shaped shiny light bulbs. The label reads: the work "Cat's Love", the price is "9400 RMB".

This money is too easy to earn. ——Wei Dong didn't say this sentence, after all, in the territory of this group of avant-garde artists, words of caution are still the top priority.

Wei Dong still couldn't help but patted Ke Xun's shoulder in front of him: "It's a pity that we didn't get a few works to bring. If we can earn a little, maybe we can even pay for the travel expenses when we came."

"I think a bunch of large and small picture frames can be nailed together, just like a perspective drawing." Ke Xun looked at the various artworks in the museum, and couldn't help thinking about it.

"Is that considered a work of art?" Ke Xun asked Mu Yiran beside him.

"Forget it." Mu Yiran smiled lowly.

"I think the name of the artwork is very important. What should we call a bunch of picture frames?" Ke Xun looked at a piece of leather displayed on the wall next to it, and there were two weird tattoos on it. pattern, the title of this work is "Old Huan".

Ke Xun looked away from these uncomfortable artworks, and was about to tell Mu Yiran that the artwork he conceived just now should be called "Encounter", but Zhu Haowen preempted him: "Call it Nirvana .”

"What kind of nirvana?" Wei Dong said, "I think it should be called 'unlucky reminder'."

Qin Ci, who was walking behind, had already struck up a conversation with the two young girls. The Mori girl pointed to the exhibition hall at the corner: "The big room is mainly for the exhibition of paintings, which is worth seeing."

Qin Ci thanked him and looked at the pale light shining from the corner of the concrete wall: "It turns out that the art exhibition is over there."

The few people looked in that direction, and their moods, which had been pretending to be relaxed, sank again, and a new life-threatening journey was about to begin.

The exhibition hall where the paintings are displayed is still desolate and desolate, with various paintings hanging on the mottled and uneven concrete walls, and a long birch bark table in the center with a big thick A porcelain teapot, and a tall stack of rough porcelain bowls with blue rims.

Although the guests are immersed in this style of depression and abject poverty, most people still prefer to drink tea in disposable paper cups, and the strong style of rough porcelain bowls is rarely touched.

The "men's group of six" was not in the mood to drink tea. They entered and exited the painting many times, which allowed them to practice their sharp eyes. At this moment, the six pairs of eyes scanned the paintings on the wall cautiously and sharply.

Although "novice" Luo Wei was the least experienced, his gaze was the sharpest.

There are many paintings in the room, among which there is even a color pencil drawing, which outlines the appearance of a woman in a wedding dress with immature brushstrokes, and the words next to it read: Xiao Qinxian, 7-year-old painting, 2002 work.

"It's still priced at 600 yuan?" Wei Dong frowned and looked at it, "My 7-year-old painting is much better than this."

A girl with mushroom hair next to him gave Wei Dong a cold look, and her stubborn, slightly protruding chin turned away.

Wei Dong shrugged his shoulders and followed his companions to the gathering place.

There are not many people in the whole studio, but there are six or seven people discussing in front of a picture.

The painting is very large, about the height of a person, not like an oil painting, but more like gouache.

The color is very single, with only shades of red on the background of the white paper, and the patterns formed are very abstract, with renderings, textures, and messy lines.

"Is this a big pink leaf?" It was the former forest girl who spoke.

"I think it's like a cross-section of a building." A curly-haired young man next to him analyzed.

No one in the "men's group of six" said a word, but everyone stopped here by coincidence, as if a unified sixth sense had been formed somewhere, and it spread here to delineate the scope.

The cold, mushroom-headed girl also said, "I feel like a piece of bloody internal organs."

It's kind of like that.

"A girl like a boy" added: "Probably a beating heart."

Wei Dong tilted his head to look at the picture, and felt that what these people said was too evil, and the pattern on the picture was too abstract, and it was not unreasonable to say that it was a cold rubber hot water bottle.

The label below the painting reads: "The Scarlet Beast", not for sale, author: Yu Beiguo.

Perhaps the words "not for sale" are very eye-catching, making the people next to the painting even more lingering.

There were more people in the exhibition hall. Three or four elderly guests walked in, well dressed and looked like old artists.

The members of the 6-person group exchanged a slightly pitiful look, and even had the idea of ​​trying to persuade them to leave.

Fortunately, they only stayed for a short time before going out again.

A few people dressed as students walked in again, Mu Yiran looked at the time unconsciously, and felt that Huatui had been showing everyone the painting for a long time this time.

"What time is it?" Ke Xun asked beside him.

"Forty-seven minutes." Mu Yiran's answer was irrelevant, but to the point.

It has been 47 minutes since everyone entered this exhibition hall. The guests came in and out, changing waves after waves, but the room has never entered the usual darkness.

The few people guarding the painting in front of them didn't move. Luo Wei couldn't help pacing back and forth in the open space of the exhibition hall—although everyone didn't want to be in the painting, this kind of waiting was even more unbearable.

Luo Wei counted, and the current number of people in the exhibition hall is 11, which is 2 people short.

The rusted copper hands of the log clock on the wall had already pointed to ten o’clock at night, and the door of the exhibition hall was pushed open again. This time, a man and a woman entered. The man was tall and burly, and his facial features looked like mixed race. The woman had long unkempt hair, Holding a large bouquet of flowers in her arms.

Lights went out.

Only the long-lost pale light on the top of the painting clearly illuminates the irregular red composition of the painting, and the name on the label is even more eye-catching: Scarlet Beast.

This piece looks like a leaf, an internal organ, and even a pattern of a building section. It seems that there is an explanation suddenly—this is a beast—an irregular body, with no face or claws, a beast.

What will the world of beasts be like?Several old members who have experienced the "animal world" do not want to recall too much.

After a period of suffocating darkness, what everyone saw was a world different from the past.

There was clearly a city in front of him, a gray and fashionable city with cold rain.

Men and women in the city walk on the road with black, red or transparent umbrellas, with indifferent expressions and well-dressed clothes.

The 13 people who stayed on the side of the road stood in the rain at dusk.The light rain like silver needles pricked the face lightly, as if to remind everyone that this was not a dream.

This is probably the most receptive team. When Qin Ciyan explained the "into the painting" in a concise manner, the eyes of the few newcomers were somewhat surprised, but they quickly accepted this miraculous fact.

"So, where are we going next?" It was the curly-haired youth who spoke.

"An NPC will come to pick us up. If we can't wait for that person, we can only try to find clues by ourselves," Qin Ci said.

"Let's get to know each other first," the woman who spoke this time was the flower-carrying woman in the final exhibition hall. She tied her messy long hair into a bun and pulled up a bohemian-style coarse cloth dress to make her feel more comfortable. I didn't want to feel too cold, and then I bowed to everyone: "I'm very sorry that an art exhibition has caused so much trouble for everyone. I am Su Benxin."

Su Benxin, the owner of "Benxin Art Museum".

Everyone looked at the attractive woman in front of them, and nodded slightly. No one would blame her for "this disaster".

Su Benxin pointed to the mixed-race man beside him: "This is Lion," and said sorry to Lion softly.

Lion smiled lightly: "Maybe this will be an interesting trip."

No matter how hard everyone tried to calm down, it was impossible for them to smile knowingly, and more people turned their attention to Mu Yiran. This "experienced person" seemed the most convincing.

Mu Yiran briefly introduced himself, and several old members also briefly reported their names.

Before the other new members could say more, a man in police uniform suddenly appeared on the street: "Please show your IDs."

Just when several newcomers were about to try to get their IDs out of their pockets, Mu Yiran smiled at the NPC and said, "Mr. Police Officer, we are new here."