Mu Yiran, Ke Xun, Wei Dong, and Qin Ci did not object to the girl with glasses.
Qin Ci nodded slightly to the girl with glasses, his voice gentle yet calm: "Okay, but I still have to say some things upfront. Even those of us who have been inside the painting before can't guarantee we'll survive tonight. I hope you understand that the power within this painting isn't something we can fight just by being brave and strong. More often than not, survival depends entirely on luck. Our role is, at best, to share our previous experiences with you. Asking us to protect you is probably asking too much."
The girl with glasses trembled and hurriedly said, "Even so, thank you!"
Qin Ci then looked at the newcomers: "So, who do you want to follow?"
Ma Zhenhua interrupted, shouting, "Me—even if I'm not a newcomer, it won't work! I don't know anything, I can't do anything, I have children at home, I don't want to die, I want to follow him—" He pointed at Mu Yiran as he shouted.
"How can you be so selfish!" The young man among the newcomers roared, grabbing Ma Zhenhua's shirt. "I still have parents! Who wants to die?! Selfish people like you never have a good ending, you know that!"
Wei Dong also disapproved of Ma Zhenhua. Ke Xun had later told him what Ma Zhenhua had done to the private business owner Zhang Maolin when he left after the last painting session, so he chimed in, "It's already decided that one old man will mentor one newcomer. Comrade Ma, you should go with the majority."
He then turned to look at the older man... The long-haired beauty said, "Hey girl, who do you want to be with? I've been in that painting before, and I've escaped death several times."
Ke Xun: "..."
The long-haired beauty looked around at everyone in a panic and helpless manner, then pointed at Mu Yiran: "I... I choose him."
Ke Xun: "..."
Wei Dong: "..."
Qin Ci then asked the girl with glasses next to her, "What about you?"
The girl with glasses also looked around at everyone, then pointed at Ke Xun: "I want to choose him."
Wei Dong: "..." Is she choosing someone for security or a boyfriend?!
Ke Xun looked at the girl with glasses: "Let's get to know each other first. My name is Ke Xun, and this is my buddy. What about you, girl?"
The girl with glasses replied, "My name is Sha Liu, and she and I are classmates." She pointed at the long-haired beauty.
Ke Xun glanced at the long-haired beauty: "Oh, so her name is Haloxylon ammodendron?"
Everyone: "..."
The long-haired beauty, her face pale with anger, said: "My name is Zi Ling!"
Ke Xun put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head towards Mu Yiran: "Zi Ling? That's a pity, his name isn't Fei Yunfan."
Everyone: "..."
Qin Ci asked the remaining people: "How do you choose?"
Zhou Bin frowned: "You're all men, I can't let my girlfriend share a tent with you."
The young man from before chimed in: "Then you two can share a tent, anyway, there aren't enough experienced people among them."
"Why? That's not fair," Zhou Bin protested, "Wouldn't that put us in danger!"
"In urgent situations, we should act expediently," Qin Ci said, "If you're worried, then you two can share a tent."
Zhou Bin thought for a moment, pointed at Qin Ci, and said to his girlfriend: "You share a tent with him." Then he pointed at Wei Dong, "I'll share a tent with you."
The young man shouted: "Why can you choose whoever you want? I don't want to share a tent with this person!" He pointed at Ma Zhenhua.
The remaining family of three remained silent and anxious.
The group was thrown into chaos.
Wei Dong quietly tugged at Ke Xun, saying, "You acted like a jealous little bitch just now."
"Stop talking nonsense, be more assertive," Ke Xun said. "They don't even glance at you from under the saplings. Don't tell anyone I raised you."
"As if Boss Mu would even glance at you," Wei Dong retorted.
While the two were arguing, they had already reached a conclusion.
Given Ma Zhenhua's strong belief that even those with experience in the art world weren't necessarily better at adapting and responding than newcomers, and given that no one wanted to be the one left out with only one tent, and given that the young man—named Tan Zheng—said that if one experienced person paired with one newcomer, the one left out would only be the newcomer, which wasn't fair to them, for the sake of fairness, everyone decided to draw lots to form groups, regardless of experience level. The girl with glasses
brought paper and pen and made two sets of lots with numbers 1 to 6. People who drew the same number would share a tent, and those who drew number 0 would have their own tent.
After folding the slips of paper, Ke Xun didn't rush to take one. Seeing Mu Yiran unfold his, he leaned over to look at the number on it. Seeing it was a 3, he turned back and carefully examined the remaining folded slips. Then, on instinct, he took one, unfolded it, and looked up at Mu Yiran with a regretful expression.
Mu Yiran glanced at him but didn't say anything. After everyone had drawn their slips, they all showed them to each other. Ke Xun's slip—strikingly—had a 3 written on it.
Mu Yiran: "..."
Ke Xun smiled at him, his eyes curving noticeably. Mu Yiran remembered the eyes in his WeChat profile picture.
That eye came from a photo of Ke Xun from his middle school days. Mu Yiran had seen this photo in his closet at home. Due to his professional habits, he always observed artwork and images carefully and had an excellent memory for them.
The boy in the photo, wearing a sky-blue and white school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, one pant leg rolled up to reveal a slender calf, white sneakers on his feet, exuding boundless youthful energy, leaping high in the autumn light filtering through the ginkgo leaves, his hair flying, his smile bright, revealing neat, white teeth.
The eyes on that smiling face are exactly like the ones before me.
Thin, sun-kissed eyelids, sharp, clear eyeliner, clean and simple shapes, a distinct black and white boundary, a clear and pure gaze.
This person's eyes, from his youth to now, have never changed.
Mu Yiran shifted his gaze, hearing someone groan, followed by angry curses.
It was Tan Zheng; he had drawn the slip of paper with number 0 written on it.
"I don't want to die—please—Brother Mu, I want to share a tent with you—" Ma Zhenhua was also dissatisfied with the partner he had drawn. He rushed over and knelt down in front of Mu Yiran, clutching his robe tightly. "Please, please be in my group. I don't want to die. I have a child at home—"
Everyone watched his behavior without saying a word.
Mu Yiran looked down at Ma Zhenhua, who was crying with snot and tears streaming down his face, and said calmly, "Ma Zhenhua, nobody wants to die. I'm sorry to say, but for my own safety, I've had someone inquire about your family background.
"You were indeed married, and you did have a child. However, when you divorced, the court awarded custody of your child to your ex-wife. So, in fact, since the divorce, you have never raised your child, not only have you not paid child support, but you also refuse to see your child.
"Your parents passed away five years ago. For the past few years, you have been living alone and have had an improper relationship with a married female colleague at work."
Ma Zhenhua was stunned.
Mu Yiran freed himself from his grasp and said to him indifferently, "In the world of the painting, surviving to the end depends more on luck. Good luck."
He then turned and walked towards the tent not far away.
Everyone else followed suit, heading towards the tents according to their groups, ignoring Ma Zhenhua who was sprawled on the ground.
Wei Dong drew Zhou Bin's girlfriend, Zhao Dan, which made him feel a little awkward. He whispered to Ke Xun, "I think even if I survive tonight, Zhou Bin will kill me tomorrow."
"Why don't you switch with him?" Ke Xun suggested.
Zhou Bin drew the bespectacled girl, Sha Liu.
"Forget it, he didn't mention it, so I won't interfere," Wei Dong said. "If I switch, everyone else will probably switch too. Everyone wants to sleep with Boss Mu."
Ke Xun: "Watch your words."
Wei Dong glanced at Mu Yiran walking ahead, then looked at Ke Xun: "Tell me, what tricks did you use? How did you manage to be grouped with him so conveniently?"
Ke Xun: "Didn't I tell you before? My intuition is always right. I drew the lots based on my intuition."
Wei Dong: "Damn, if you knew you were so accurate, why didn't you just buy lottery tickets?!"
Ke Xun: "I'm not short of money. Besides, I think intuition, like luck, is easy to overuse and deplete if used too much. You have to conserve it." "Use it, so you don't run out when it matters."
Wei Dong: "Fine, I'm too lazy to talk to you after your first sentence. Goodbye."
Ke Xun: "Be careful tonight. If you really can't, cover your head and hide somewhere that those things won't see you."
Wei Dong: "I know, although I think this time might be a different style of death than last time..."
Ke Xun: "Dongzi."
Wei Dong: "Yeah."
Ke Xun: "See you tomorrow."
Wei Dong: "Okay, I'll try to see you tomorrow."
After watching Wei Dong enter one of the tents, Ke Xun walked towards the tent Mu Yiran had entered. The tents were not close together, with the furthest one even a hundred meters away.
Lifting the tent and stepping inside, he saw that the tents were indeed small, barely big enough for two people to lie side by side. There was a tattered felt blanket on the ground, and nothing else.
Mu Yiran sat cross-legged on the felt blanket, his eyelids lowered as if he was thinking.
Ke Xun sat down opposite him, not disturbing him, but resting his elbow on his knee and looking at him with his chin in his hand.
After a short while, Mu Yiran finally raised her eyelids and gave him a cold stare.
Ke Xun calmly asked him, "This time there are no written strips of cloth. What kind of death do you think we'll encounter?"
Mu Yiran lowered his gaze slightly, his tone indifferent: "No rules are more terrifying than rules."
Ke Xun nodded: "That's right. I see that we're all wearing similar clothes. At least from the outside, we should all look the same. Doesn't that mean that this time, the target and method of death are likely random?"
"It's too early to judge now," Mu Yiran said. "This time is different from last time. We don't have any clues right now."
Ke Xun then asked, "What is this painting about? I tried hard to see it clearly before I went in, but I couldn't see anything. I didn't even get to see the title or the artist's name."
Mu Yiran's gaze swept across the top of the tent, where he saw colorful and intricate patterns, but they seemed to be old, faded and dirty, making it impossible to discern the patterns: "The name of this painting is 'Faith,' and the artist is Qiu Jian, a religious artist."
"What sect does he belong to?" Ke Xun asked.
"He studied various religious sects and had a deep interest and passion for religious art," Mu Yiran said. "In the years before his death, he became madly infatuated with the culture of a particular sect and became a devout follower. From then until his passing, all his works reflected the characteristics of that sect's culture. The painting we are in here is one of them, and it was also his last work before his death."
Ke Xun looked at the robe he was wearing, vaguely guessing what was going on, but still asked, "What sect is this?"