Besides the green room where Zhu Haowen and Shi Zhendong were, the other rooms had completed storing three jars of berries before lunch.
"We're less than one jar's worth of work left, we should be able to finish the task before 2 pm." Shi Zhendong glanced at the clock on the wall, which still displayed the blue pattern.
Xin Beibei looked at her boyfriend, then at Zhu Haowen sitting in the distance, her expression very complicated.
Qin Ci said, "The green team only has two people, it's normal that they couldn't finish the task. How about this, after lunch is free time. If you feel tired, you can go back to your rooms to rest. If you're interested, you can gather in this hall to discuss."
Shi Zhendong understood that Qin Ci was giving the green team more time to work, so he smiled and said, "Then let's continue working after lunch. Everyone gather here at 2 pm."
Everyone nodded. They hadn't eaten much for lunch and didn't feel like taking a nap. So, Shi Zhendong and Zhu Haowen returned to the green room to continue working, while the others sat at the dining table for a meeting.
"Let's start with the clues we have so far," Qin Ci began. "First, regarding the conditions of death, He Yu entered other rooms yesterday without washing his hands, which should be considered a clear act of color contamination. He ultimately ended his life by being stripped of his color.
The other victim is Zhang Tianwei. We still can't determine whether he contaminated the color, but visiting rooms of other colors is clearly one of the conditions of death. There are many doubts surrounding Zhang Tianwei's death, and we can discuss this issue first." Qin Ci's gaze swept over everyone present.
Mi Wei was the first to speak: "I think the first thing we need to figure out is when Tianwei died, whether he was dead or alive before being dragged out of the room, and what we saw this morning… was Tianwei dead at that time?" Xin
Beibei was the first to be startled by Mi Wei's statement: "He was soaking in a bottle, of course he was dead! " "
Miwei said, 'Because the world in the painting is so bizarre, I made a bold hypothesis—after He Yu died, he lost all his colors. So, the senior we saw this morning… being soaked in the bottle in that way, was he being drained of color? Then how did He Yu lose his colors? Was it also through this method?'
'If that's the case, there would be traces throughout the room,' Xin Beibei said with lingering fear. 'The red we saw this morning… has already spread out of the room.'
'If Senior He was also killed in that way, why didn't the murderer kill Senior Zhang in the same way last night?' Ye Ningchen raised his question.
'The only way to verify your conclusion,' Ke Xun looked into Miwei's narrow eyes, 'is to go back to the scene and see what happened to Zhang Tianwei afterwards, whether he ultimately suffered the same fate as He Yu.'"
These words sent a chill down everyone's spine. Several girls even regretted bringing up the discussion earlier—verifying facts was far more brutal than mere theoretical discussion. "
Xiao Ke is right. Besides verifying your earlier doubts, it would indeed be more appropriate to go and check Zhang Tianwei's body again." Qin Ci glanced at the clock on the wall; it was just past one o'clock. "There's still time. Who's going?"
Xin Beibei raised her voice: "I'm not going! I can still see that big red bottle oozing blood when I close my eyes..." She pulled Ye Ningchen closer, "You'd better not go either, it's too scary."
Mi Wei stood up: "I'll go with you guys. More people means more observation points."
"Dongzi, you stay here with the girls," Ke Xun hadn't finished speaking when he felt his best friend cast a very grateful look at him, "Even though it's daytime, it's best not to leave anyone alone, especially in the lobby. Don't leave anyone here alone." Wei
Dong nodded in agreement, glancing at Guo Lixia, who was dozing in her chair, and included her among those remaining.
So, Ke Xun, Mu Yiran, Qin Ci, along with Mi Wei and Miao Zipei, went up to the fourth floor again. Because of the castle's unique design, the open-air corridor was only on the fourth floor. It
was Miao Zipei's first time upstairs, and he was curious when he found that the third and fourth floors had the same layout. Moreover, like the second and third floors, the large red door in the center of these rooms had turned pale white.
Next to the hall on the fourth floor was a wooden door; pushing it open led to the open-air corridor.
"Watch your step!" Mi Wei's reminder made everyone walk cautiously. Sure enough, at the end of the corridor, there were some suspicious red marks on the ground.
They walked sideways, trying to avoid the red.
The red marks were more noticeable on the white tiles of the hall.
"Those bloodstains… no, those red liquids have been cleaned up," Qin Ci said, puzzled, "but not cleanly."
"This doesn't look like it was cleaned with a broom or mop," Miwei said, bravely crouching down to examine it closely. "Why are there large patches of red that have been wiped away? What was used to clean it?" No
one spoke. If one were to imagine it, a terrifying analogy would emerge: these marks looked as if they had been licked away by a giant tongue.
Soon, these marks were ignored, because what was revealed through the open red door once again shattered everyone's understanding.
It was still the same large glass jar, and the red liquid inside was still slowly flowing out, only the flow was much smaller than in the morning.
The person inside the jar could no longer be identified as Zhang Tianwei—as Miwei had observed before, Zhang Tianwei's body had become shorter than before, and was getting shorter and shorter.
"Then…is there a specimen of an infant inside?" "Miao Zipei, who rarely spoke, finally uttered a muffled sound.
The red liquid still contained a human body, but it was as small as an infant's corpse, still upright, its tiny limbs suspended.
"Not an infant, just a scaled-down adult," Qin Ci, as a doctor, answered Miao Zipei accurately.
Mu Yiran looked at it for a while, then turned back to the still blood-red clock on the wall: "Because of the constant extraction of color, Zhang Tianwei is almost completely exhausted."
Miao Zipei couldn't help but gag: "Do all of us have so much color inside us?"
This question was like a prophecy; no one wanted to answer it.
Mu Yiran calmly looked at Miao Zipei: "In this world, the artist attempted to express everything through color, including the lives of the people in the painting." Miao
Zipei struggled to suppress his vomiting, almost bursting into tears, when he heard Ke Xun beside him say: "Take this opportunity to observe this hall carefully; perhaps you'll find something else."
Miwei's eyes were fixed on the vividly red clock on the wall. "Do you think the painter's signature could be on the clock?" Qin
Ci was the first to dismiss the idea: "Now it seems the clock clue is too obvious, and every hall in the castle has a clock, so the signature is unlikely to be there."
Ke Xun thought the room's furnishings were no different from what he'd seen that morning, except the bloodstains had been cleaned up.
Miao Zipei's gaze fell on the hall's window: "The patterns on the window lattice are different from those in our building. Would you call that a discovery?"
Ke Xun asked, "You mean all the window frames in that building are the same?"
While the others seemed unable to answer, Miao Zipei nodded firmly. "Whether it's the workshop, our bedroom, or even the halls on the third and fourth floors we just passed, the window patterns all belong to the Morris pattern—more precisely, many cuts from a single golden lily pattern. Because the distribution of the pattern is different, people tend to overlook their overall unity."
Ke Xun looked at this shining young man; whenever someone made a highly professional statement and could enlighten others, Ke Xun felt that person was radiant.
"So, are the window frames in this hall now part of the Morris pattern?" Mu Yiran asked at the opportune moment.
Miao Zipeng replied without hesitation, "It also belongs to the Morris pattern. If I remember correctly, this picture should be from William Morris's 'Pomegranate Branches and White Parrots.' These window panes also break up the pattern—but the Morris pattern itself is a gorgeous, repetitive composition, emphasizing classical beauty. Any part can be a perfect work."
"Do you think these golden lilies, pomegranates, and white parrots have any special meaning?" Qin Ci obviously couldn't understand these artistic concepts.
"They just represent various kinds of beauty, without any special meaning." Miao Zipeng could feel the affirmation and encouragement from the surrounding gazes, so he continued, "I just find it strange that Fauvism and Morris patterns are completely different styles. Morris patterns are more inclined towards courtly meticulous brushwork. I don't know why the painter would use Morris patterns in this painting."
Mi Wei also felt this made sense: "Fauvism is a subversion and a breaking. They don't pay much attention to proportion and composition. Compared to them, Morris patterns are too conventional. They are simply two conflicting styles."
But no one can explain these contradictions and conflicts, probably not even the painter himself.
"This might be related to the painter's untold inner journey," Mu Yiran said casually. The older members all knew that many of the paintings contained too many stories about the painter.
Miao Zipei's gaze then turned to the red clock on the wall: "I don't know if the red you saw before was different from this one?"
"It's a pretty red, what could be different?" Ke Xun asked.
Miao Zipei hesitated for a moment, then looked up again and squinted at the red on the clock face: "Red is a color at the end of the visible spectrum, with a wavelength of about 625 to 740 nanometers. It is one of the three primary colors of light."
Everyone listened quietly to Miao Zipei's words— "Red is just a general concept. There are hundreds or thousands of shades of red. For example, the red on Zhang Tianwei's and He Yu's clothes was different. Zhang Tianwei's clothes had a dark red moon pattern, while He Yu's clothes had a pomegranate red grid pattern.
"But judging from the red on this clock face, it is basically close to the purest red. If we divide it according to the optical color RGB, the index of the purest red is: R = 255, G = 0, B = 0." This was the first time Ke
Xun had received such a professional lecture on color. After a moment of digestion, he couldn't help but ask, "So, someone wants to extract the purest color from us?"