Chapter 240 I am the one holding the knife
"Expulsion" is a dark gray basalt sculpture about 60 cm high with a rough and sharp surface, as if it were the remains of something torn apart by violence.
The main body presents a distorted human silhouette, with arms crossed to protect the chest, but there is a deep crack in the chest, and inside the crack are fine lines carved like blood vessels, and a broken heart can be vaguely seen.
The character's face has no clear facial features, only a few deep scratches, like marks left by fingernails, or like ravines of tears.
The entire sculpture's posture presents a kind of struggle—it seems like self-protection, but also like an attempt to break free from invisible constraints.
The stone is directly chopped with a hard chisel, leaving rough knife marks instead of fine grinding. This extreme carving technique gives the work a sense of fragmentation.
When Meng Chenghong actually stood in front of "Expulsion", he felt a suffocating shock.
Every chisel mark on the sculpture seemed to be carved directly into his nerves. He seemed to be able to imagine the crazy look of his second sister, who was usually elegant and calm, swinging the chisel alone in the middle of the night.
“This work is so depressing, yet it’s hard to look away…”
"I heard that 'Qiran' never makes public appearances. Is it because his work is too personal?"
"Look at that crack, it looks like it was torn apart alive..."
Meng Chenghong couldn't understand other people's comments on the work. His emotions and attention were completely immersed in the stone sculpture in front of him. His fingers unconsciously touched the glass of the display case, as if he wanted to penetrate the barrier and heal the scars.
His throat tightened, his eyes heated up, and he suddenly realized that he had never truly understood his sister.
Meng Anran chatted with a few familiar entrepreneurs for a while, and when she returned to her brother, she found that he was staring at "Expulsion" with tears in his eyes.
"What are you doing?" She rubbed her brother's head in amusement.
"Second sister." Meng Chenghong turned his head to look at his second sister, his eyes full of heartache.
Seeing that he was in a bad mood, Meng Anran immediately covered his mouth and said in a low voice: "Don't reveal my identity in public."
Although she was invited here today as "Qiran", no one except Anderson knew her identity. People who knew her only knew that she was the chairman of Ruiming Group.
It's not that she can't reveal her identity as a sculptor, but that her position in the business circle is too high. Once people know that the two depressing and hideous works "Indulgence" and "Expulsion" were created by her, it will cause a lot of trouble.
Meng Chenghong pulled the hand that was covering his mouth away and nodded obediently to indicate that he would definitely keep the secret.
Meng Anran raised his eyebrows in satisfaction and turned his gaze to "Expulsion". After a few seconds, the smile on his face gradually disappeared and turned into a heavy look.
Her eyes froze for a moment, as if she saw something different in her own work.
"Expulsion" depicts herself, a PTSD patient, whose appearance is perfectly packaged and flawless, but her inside is like this stone statue, rough, violent and torn.
However, when she looked back at her work now, she felt that it looked more and more like Lu Yi.
Without any superficial disguise, his completely crazy personality is revealed nakedly.
The arms are crossed over the chest in a self-protective posture, while the delicate carving on the heart seems to want to escape from the crazy body - both to live and to die.
Meng Anran's fingers gently slid across the glass display case, parallel to the deep crack on "Expulsion".
She suddenly realized that the bond between her and Lu Yi was like this sculpture - solid rock on the surface, but fragmented veins inside.
"Second sister, where are we going next?" Meng Chenghong's voice brought her back to reality.
Meng Anran retracted her gaze, her perfect smile returning to her lips. "Just take a look. Art has different fields, but aesthetics are universal. Perhaps it will be helpful to you."
When we walked out of the art gallery, dusk had already enveloped the city.
Meng Chenghong was in a state of contemplation the whole way. This trip seemed to give him a deeper understanding of the word "art".
…
The Grant Hotel is brightly lit in the night.
Lu Heng leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing the unhealed needle holes.
"Mr. Lu." Xiang Fu pushed open the half-closed door and walked in. His eyes lightly swept over the pinhole on Lu Heng's forearm and the iron box of medicine beside him, and quickly retracted his gaze. "I found this in the secret compartment under the bed in Second Young Master Lu's room."
He took a few steps towards Lu Heng and handed him the parchment scroll.
The parchment scroll is held in a ring. Although the workmanship is shown to be attentive, it is obviously not as delicate as those made by professionals.
The inner ring is engraved with tiny letters: AN.
Lu Heng temporarily put the ring on his little finger and unfolded the parchment.
There were no words on it, but strange symbols and patterns. He didn't know what it meant, but since it was covered with this ring, it was probably the message that Lu Yi wanted to convey to Meng Anran.
He restored the parchment to its original shape and handed it to Xiang Fu, "Put it back."
"Yes." Xiang Fu took it with both hands and carefully put it into the inner pocket of his coat.
Then he glanced at the iron box on the ground uncontrollably, and after hesitating for a long time, he couldn't help but remind him: "Mr. Lu, why don't you ask someone else to test the medicine? What if something happens to your body..."
"It can't be more serious than Lu Yi's." Lu Heng glanced at Xiang Fu indifferently. No thoughts could be seen in his deep eyes, but his tone was unquestionable.
Hearing this, Xiang Fu said no more, nodded respectfully and walked out.
Lu Heng turned his head to look at the outside world. Under the neon lights, the car lights were surging like an ant colony.
His hand habitually stroked the amber bracelet on his wrist. It seemed as if some living thing awakened in the dark red amber, bursting out with bright blood color.
…
The nights in Country A are a little colder than in China. In the early morning, a few snowflakes fell from the sky, covering the city in white.
When Meng Anran was awakened by a nightmare, it was still a pitch-black night outside the window.
His smooth forehead was covered with dense beads of sweat, and his long hair on his temples was wet.
She dreamed that she was standing in front of a burning villa, holding a bloody chisel in her hand.
Lu Yi reached out his hand to her in the fire, but her feet were fixed to the ground by countless stone carvings, unable to move.
The phone showed three o'clock in the morning. After hesitating for a moment, she called Kenai.
"Doctor Ke, I had another nightmare. This time... I was the one holding the knife."
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