When I got home, Zhang Zhenyan was playing with Yangyang.

After Yangyang learned to crawl, the layout of the living room changed a little. A large playpen was placed in the open space, which was filled with play mats and various toys.

The big and the small were playing with toys in the fence. Because Wen Qi had comforted Zhang Zhenyan on the phone before, she seemed to be in good condition now, with a gentle smile on her face.

When he heard the noise and looked over, Zhang Zhenyan got up and walked out anxiously.

"Sister-in-law, I'm not pregnant again, am I?" Zhang Zhenyan frowned and asked in a low voice, "I've only recovered for a few days, I don't want to have a baby so soon.

Wen Qi was stunned. She had never thought of this guess before. She looked at Zhang Zhenyan carefully and shook her head: "No, she is not pregnant."

Zhang Zhenyan breathed a sigh of relief, "Then what happened to me?"

Wen Qi said: "With the revival of spiritual energy, the inspiration of ordinary people will be subtly improved. Your inspiration is already high, so it is not surprising that it improves quickly."

Zhang Zhenyan digested it for a while, then asked, "Does that mean I can always see ghosts from now on?"

Wen Qi nodded, "Yes, you don't like it?"

Zhang Zhenyan looked at Yangyang, "I can't say whether I like it or not, but it's good to be able to see the same world as Yangyang."

Wen Qi patted her on the shoulder and said, "Don't think too much. You've been through it once before, so you should be able to adapt to it this time."

Zhang Zhenyan laughed, "I was scared when I suddenly saw the little ghost today." She sighed, "It may take a little longer."

In the evening, Wen Qi had dinner at the old house and played with Yang Yang for a long time. She didn't go home until Yang Yang was about to go to bed. She had another commission to do tomorrow, so it would be more convenient to go back to the city center.

Nothing happened that night. Early the next morning, Wen Qi rushed to the Criminal Police Detachment and opened the case files as usual.

As soon as he opened it, Wen Qi's expression relaxed a little. It was rare, after all, it wasn't a murder case.

The person who reported the case was a famous painter named Andawen, who was in his sixties. He was immersed in art in his early years and had no mood for love. He waited until he was almost forty to get married and have children. His son Anheng is twenty-six this year and became famous recently because of an oil painting.

Andawen reported the case because he felt that An Heng was not capable of drawing that picture. He had watched his own son grow up, so he knew exactly what his son's level was.

Although he had been studying since childhood and majored in fine arts in college, An Heng's talent was limited and his achievements were mediocre.

Andaven advised him more than once to change direction, saying that one does not have to become a master if one likes painting. Although he is old, his thoughts are not pedantic at all.

An Heng was like a madman, firmly believing that he could create a masterpiece that would be passed down through the ages! Andawen was very angry and didn't like him much in the past two years.

After An Heng's oil painting titled "Light" became a hit, Andaven was very surprised. He blamed himself in his heart for not giving his son more encouragement, but instead repeatedly pouring cold water on him. Fortunately, An Heng was strong-willed and was not affected.

For the first time in his life, Andaven admitted his mistake and made an appointment with An Heng to have a good talk.

When the father and son met in the restaurant, Andaven almost didn't recognize his son. An Heng had long hair, which was braided behind his head. He had also become much thinner and looked like a bag of bones.

Andaven was shocked and didn't care about what he wanted to say. He hurriedly told An Heng to eat well and exercise moderately, otherwise he would not be able to paint for a few years and his body would collapse.

An Heng behaved politely throughout the whole process, completely different from his previous rebellious attitude.

Andawen was very uncomfortable with it, but he was also happy for Anheng's growth. Later, Anheng invited him to his apartment to watch him paint, and Andawen went.

This time he discovered more incongruous things.

Many of An Heng's habits have changed, including his hobbies over the past decade or so, as well as the way he moves when painting, etc. It's like he has become a completely different person.

The more Andawen looked at him, the more he felt that the man in front of him was not his son at all. He could not stay any longer and stumbled away with an excuse. Thinking of the increasing number of supernatural cases on the Internet, he felt uneasy and called the police as soon as he got home.

Now, two days have passed since the case was reported. Since it is not a particularly dangerous case, the police are not so anxious.

Wen Qi glanced at the address of the An family. It was in Long'an District, a well-known old wealthy area in Yunhai City. It was still very prosperous.

Zhu Jinni had something to do today, so she had to go alone.

As usual, she took a taxi when going out. Wen Qi once again felt that she must get a driver's license, as taking a taxi was really not very convenient.

The An family lives in the only villa area in Long'an District. Although it is a bit old, owning a villa of such a large area near the center of Yunhai City, where every inch of land is valuable, can only be described as rich or noble.

Wen Qi confirmed the house number, walked up and rang the doorbell, and soon a voice came out, "Hello, what can I do for you?"

Wen Qi smiled politely, "I am the Tianshi of the police force. I am here this time to report the case to Andawen."

There was silence for a moment, and then he said, "Master An went to his son's place yesterday and has not returned. Perhaps you can call and ask."

Wen Qi kept smiling, "Thank you." She looked at the villa through the iron gate, and took out her cell phone to call Andaven, but no one answered until the ringing stopped.

"Qingyi, go in and take a look."

Wen Qi raised her eyebrows. Fortunately, she was cautious and checked before leaving. In this case, the aunt's answer just now was a bit intriguing. Why did she lie?

"Master, I think it's best to call the police now and have them come over." Qing Yi said expressionlessly, "Andaven was tied up by An Heng and bled in the basement."

Wen Qi paused, "Is the person still alive?"

Qingyi nodded, "He's still alive now, but he may not be able to hold on for much longer."

Wen Qi called Zhu Jinni, firstly to explain the situation and secondly to report that she was planning to break into a private house.

Human life is at stake, so Zhu Jinni naturally would not refuse. After hanging up the phone, she immediately asked someone to rush to An's house.

Wen Qi glanced at the old-fashioned door lock and said with a smile, "Help me open the door."

Qingyi stretched out her finger, inserted it into the door lock, and opened it with a slight turn.

Wen Qi looked normal and walked in with a swagger. After they entered the living room, the aunt realized that there was a stranger in the house. Her face immediately changed and she screamed, "How did you get in? Get out now! I'm calling the police!"

Wen Qi uttered a "huh" and went straight to the basement under the guidance of Qingyi.

The aunt looked to be about fifty years old. Seeing this, she ran over and blocked Wen Qi, "What on earth do you want to do?"

Wen Qi looked her up and down. "You weren't controlled, so why would you be an accomplice to a stranger?"

The color drained from the aunt's face, but she still didn't move away. "I don't know what you are talking about. Please leave now."

Wen Qi raised his hand and moved the aunt away. He really moved her away, lifting her up easily and moving her to another place.

Auntie was stunned. When Wen Qi walked downstairs, she finally realized what was happening and quickly chased after him. But she was too old to walk fast when she went downstairs.

By the time he caught up, Wen Qi had already seen the entire situation in the basement.

Andaven was tied to the sofa, his face pale and unconscious. His wrists were hanging on the edge of the sofa, bloody and looked like they had been cut repeatedly. There was also a bucket of white paint under his wrists.

In the open space next to it, a tall and thin young man was painting, and the white canvas was covered with shades of red.

Paint made from blood?

Just as Wen Qi was about to step forward, his aunt rushed over from outside, hugged Wen Qi, and shouted, "Master, run! Someone is coming to catch you!"

An Heng turned a deaf ear and continued to paint on the canvas slowly with his paintbrush. He looked like an artist immersed in his own world.

Wen Qi frowned slightly, "Qingyi, take this aunt upstairs and hand her over to the police when they arrive."

Auntie was confused. Who was Qing Yi? The next second, she felt her body was out of control. She let go of Wen Qi against her will and turned to walk upstairs.

If there were outsiders present, they would definitely notice that the aunt's heels were raised, which was clearly a sign of being possessed by a ghost.

His ears were quiet now. Wen Qi slowly walked to An Heng's side and looked at him for a few seconds before speaking, "Are you painting a sunset?"

An Heng paused his pen, slowly turned his head to look at Wen Qi, and a smile appeared on the corner of his lips, "Did you figure it out?"

The way he turned his head was very strange. When most people turn their heads, their bodies will move more or less. But An Heng's head had turned more than 45 degrees, but his body was still facing forward.

It feels like the head is separated from the body, and it would not be surprising if it falls off in the next second.

A bit scary.

Wen Qi nodded calmly, "It's obvious. But I'm a little curious, why did you only use red to express it?"

An Heng turned his head back and said, "Because the setting sun is originally red."

Wen Qi recalled that she had seen the sunset so many times. Was the sunset red? Probably not, right? She shook her head and asked, "Then why do we need to use blood to adjust the color?"

An Heng began to write, "Because human blood is the purest color."

Wen Qi suddenly realized, and then asked: "Then why don't you use your own?"

An Heng paused as his brush fell on the canvas, using too much force, leaving a particularly obvious mark.

Seeing a painting that was almost completed was ruined.

Wen Qi blinked and said halfheartedly, "It seems like you need to repaint. What should I do? Do you have enough paint?"

An Heng put down his paintbrush, turned to face her, and said in a dark tone: "It wasn't enough, but you came."