Soon, the dishes were served, all of them were seafood.

Wen Qi took two bites, and the taste was not amazing, it was just average, not worthy of the reputation of the cruise ship in the last century. Looking up at Feng Ce, his brows were slightly wrinkled, and there was a bit of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

Wen Qi laughed, "Do you want to open a bottle of wine?"

Feng Ce looked at the waiter and said, "A bottle of red wine, the best."

The waiter nodded respectfully, turned around and went downstairs again.

Wen Qi couldn't suppress the smile on his lips, and said with a smile: "You want the best. How worried are you about this restaurant?"

Feng Ce said helplessly: "Just in case."

A few minutes later, the waiter came back with a bottle of red wine. Wen Qi thought it looked familiar, as if she had a similar wine cabinet at home? She looked at Feng Ce, who finally didn't show any disdain.

After pouring the red wine into the decanter, the waiter retreated back to the stairs and no longer disturbed their meal.

Wen Qi whispered, "After dinner, shall we go for a walk downstairs?"

During the meal, the stage play on the deck ended and a band came out and started playing classical music.

Wen Qi ate, listened and admired Feng Ce's wine tasting. The man's movements were elegant and noble, like an aristocrat walking out of a medieval oil painting. Every move he made made people want to collect them.

"What's wrong?" Feng Ce put down his wine glass and asked with raised eyebrows.

Wen Qi smiled and shook her head. She would not say that, lest someone become proud.

Time passed very quickly, and by the time they finished their meal it was already past eleven o'clock.

Wen Qi raised his eyebrows and called the waiter over, "Are there any entertainment facilities on the cruise ship?"

The waiter bowed slightly and whispered, "The second and third floors of the cruise ship are places for entertainment and relaxation. You can visit them freely and then make a decision."

Wen Qi smiled and thanked him.

Feng Ce stood up and walked to Wen Qi, extending his hand.

Wen Qi raised his hand and placed it on it, then slung it over his arm, and the two walked down together.

There is a floor plan at the entrance to the third floor, which introduces the entertainment facilities of the entire three floors, including guest rooms, a bridge room, a SPA, and a small indoor oil painting exhibition.

Wen Qi's eyes were fixed on the oil painting exhibition, and he intuitively felt that it was related to Ji Fulin's disappearance.

Feng Ce said calmly: "Let's go and take a look."

The indoor oil painting exhibition is in the innermost space on the third floor. It looks ordinary from the outside, but it is a different world inside. It is very large and dimly lit, with only small lights above the paintings.

The paintings on the wall are very similar in style to the ones hanging in the restaurant outside. They are all abstract portraits, which reminded Wen Qi of the world-famous painting "The Scream".

The similar portraits soon caused Wen Qi visual fatigue. Not long after she walked out, she couldn't help yawning and tears welled up in her eyes.

With tears in her eyes, she glanced at the painting beside her and was suddenly startled. She seemed to see the figure in the painting move, but when she looked carefully, it was still an ordinary painting.

Wen Qi frowned. Was it an illusion caused by tears?

At this moment, Feng Ce suddenly said: "The area here is too large."

Wen Qi looked at him puzzledly, "What do you mean?"

Wen Qi suddenly realized.

Indeed, the studio was the last cabin, and next to it was the SPA, only five meters away, but the area of ​​the studio was obviously more than 100 square meters, or even larger, because they had not yet finished touring it.

Wen Qi's mind moved, "Let's try going back the same way."

Both of them had a very good sense of direction, so it was not difficult for them to return along the same route. However, when they reached the entrance, they found that the hatch in front of them had been replaced by a huge painting.

Finally, something other than the blurry human figures appeared in the painting. It was the back of a painter. He was painting. His painting was only half finished, but it was not difficult to tell from the outer outline that it was Wen Qi and Feng Ce.

If it were an ordinary person, he would have been scared to death by the scene before his eyes.

But Wen Qi and Feng Ce were very familiar with this routine. They stared at the painter calmly, and the former even asked, "After the painting is finished, can we take it home?"

Feng Ce also said: "If the painting is good, you can consider hanging it at home. This is our first painting and it is very commemorative."

The painter did not move, pretending that his painting was just an ordinary one, but he was shocked and conflicted. He was shocked by the unusual reactions of the two people, and he was conflicted because he did not know whether to agree or not. After all, no one had ever appreciated his paintings, and this was a rare opportunity.

Seeing that the painter didn't move, Wen Qi frowned and urged: "Can you please hurry up? Do you want to turn around? How can we paint if we can't see? What if we paint someone else?"

The painter became even more confused. He did not move, but spoke.

"Do you really want my paintings?" A clear young voice asked, "Even if the price of painting is your soul?"

Wen Qi smiled, "Our souls are not so easy to take. Maybe when the painting is finished, it will be you who gives your soul away."

The painter was silent for a long time, and finally the brush on the painting started to move. "I don't care. As long as I can paint the most perfect work, I am willing to sacrifice my soul."

Wen Qi didn't comment, turned around to look at the paintings in the exhibition hall, and asked casually: "Are these paintings all made at the cost of the soul? They are too abstract. I like paintings where I can see the faces clearly."

The painter's brush kept moving, and the outlines of Wen Qi and Feng Ce gradually became clearer in the painting.

"Their souls have no shape, so of course they are blurry when they are painted, but you are different." The painter said, "I can see clearly that your souls are complete and beautiful. It may take me some time, so you can walk around. I will let you know when the painting is done."

Before leaving, Wen Qi asked the key question, "Are the people in these paintings still alive?"

"Of course." The painter was very confident, "They live in their paintings."

Wen Qi understood. What it meant was that they were all sacrificed to the painting, and both their souls and bodies were gone.

Without waiting any longer, the two turned around and went inside again, just treating it as a walk, even though the environment was not very good.

While taking a walk, Wen Qi could clearly feel his soul power being drained away bit by bit. The others probably died for the same reason. How could an ordinary person's soul withstand such a drain?

Feng Ce stood in front of a painting, raised his hand and rubbed the frame and canvas, and said in a calm voice: "The bones are the frame, the flesh is the cloth, and the soul is the paint." He put his hand down, rubbed his fingertips, and said in a calm tone: "It can't be saved."

Wen Qi was not surprised at all, and said calmly: "It's good that we have done what we can. At least there will be no new paintings appearing in this exhibition hall in the future."

The more ghost stories you encounter, the more you will realize that not everything can be solved perfectly, and it is normal to have regrets.

Ghosts are much more extreme than humans, and they are more decisive in doing things. They don't know what retreat means. For example, this painter wants to paint a perfect picture, so he naturally has to make full use of these "models" and will not stop until he squeezes out every last bit of value.

Therefore, there is no room for recovery.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but Wen Qi clearly felt that the exhibition hall was getting smaller. She sighed, “I told you, there is a price to pay for painting us.”