The Art Gallery

Chapter 21

The invitation was a bit strange, and in the end, Zhou Xiangzhe didn’t accept.

He reminded Shen Wang once more and then prepared to leave. Just as he turned to go, Shen Wang caught a scent.

A very faint, light sandalwood fragrance, like the smell that clings to temples after years of burning incense. Shen Wang covered his nose, looking around to find where it was coming from.

“There’s a weird smell.” Shen Wang called out to Zhou Xiangzhe. “Do you smell it?”

Zhou Xiangzhe stopped. Ever since going blind, his other senses had sharpened—but a weird smell?

Aside from the cold wind, all Zhou Xiangzhe could smell was paint. That was why he hadn’t been able to tell this was a hospital when Shen Wang said so. His hands touched cold walls, but his nose picked up nothing but paint.

“It’s paint,” Zhou Xiangzhe answered. “This place is under the influence of Hundred Eyes’ Contamination Talent. She was a painter when she was alive, so it’s normal for this place to be tied to paintings and smell like paint.”

“Paint?” Shen Wang frowned. “Paint smells like this?”

In the end, Shen Wang personally escorted Zhou Xiangzhe back to the neighboring ward. When he returned, the vines had already completely devoured the contaminant, leaving nothing but a dry, cracked husk. He casually tossed the husk into the corridor and retracted the vines before sitting on the hospital bed.

Although Zhou Xiangzhe had explained it was paint, Shen Wang’s own judgment said this didn’t smell like paint at all.

Shen Wang had smelled this before. He’d encountered patients’ families in the hospital who burned incense and prayed to Buddha, and the incense they lit carried a hint of this scent.

But it couldn’t compare, because this smell was richer and more pleasant.

It was strangely captivating, making him inexplicably want to sniff it again—even, one might say... it really whetted his appetite.

Shen Wang swallowed.

He was a little hungry.

Huh? Hungry?

Shen Wang froze for a moment, then abruptly stood up. He finally realized something was wrong. This hunger—wasn’t it the most basic symptom of his episodes?!

He was having an episode? So soon after the last one ended? Why?

Shen Wang recalled what his brother had told him before: [When you encounter a high-level contaminant and judge that it can’t threaten you, your body will spontaneously enter a feeding state.]

But Shen Wang was still absolutely certain he couldn’t underestimate Hundred Eyes. She was a Grade A contaminant! Only an idiot would look down on her!

Yet here he was, having an episode right inside a Grade A contaminant’s Hall of Art.

This was bad. Really bad.

Shen Wang frowned. He stood up and started thinking about how to get through this episode—and how to do it without Zhou Xiangzhe noticing.

Bzzzt—a burst of static interrupted his thoughts. He pressed the communicator on his ear. That was where the sound came from.

“Is… there…?”

Someone was speaking.

Bzzzzt. The sound was still full of static, but it was slowly becoming clearer.

“Is someone… there? This… Baihe.”

“Hello?” Shen Wang replied. “I can hear you, but it’s unclear.”

The other side seemed to hear him too and tried even harder to adjust the frequency. Soon, Shen Wang could hear the voice clearly enough. Although static still mixed in, he could make out what they were saying, and even if some words were missing, it was easy to fill in the blanks.

“This is Baihe.”

“The signal’s unstable. I don’t know when it’ll cut off, or who I’ve connected to, so I’ll focus on the key points.”

“This place is called the Hall of Art. After we were scattered, we’ve been spread throughout Hundred Eyes’ various paintings. Hundred Eyes is obsessed with art and has turned everything she’s experienced into paintings. She believes anyone who meets her must have an artistic spirit, so she sets up all kinds of trials outside her gallery. You have to pass through her paintings using artistic methods to reach her true form.”

“Each series of paintings has different prerequisites. For example, the theme of the painting I’m in seems to be ‘dreams,’ so I’ve grown a pair of bizarrely shaped wings.”

“Her Contamination Talent is Painting Comes True.”

The transmission cut off abruptly—the signal must have been lost again. Shen Wang calmly pressed another button, and a melodic song flowed into his ears.

All right, listen to some music to calm down, then think things through.

There had to be a way.

There had to be a way... Like hell there was. Shen Wang lowered his head and clutched his stomach.

So hungry. He wanted to eat so badly. If he didn’t eat soon he’d starve to death. He needed to eat something...

/

Ever since he was a child, Shen Wang had endured this kind of torment.

An endless, bottomless hunger. No matter what he ate, he couldn’t fill the void inside his body. He felt starved enough to devour an entire cow, but he could only stubbornly endure and wait it out.

When he was young, he’d wonder why he was the unlucky one who got sick—why only he had to suffer so much?

So Shen Wang didn’t actually value his life as much as one might imagine. He’d been diagnosed as terminal early on, lived with little hope, and was tormented constantly. He kept living mostly because he wasn’t willing to die like that. That was why his personality was so reckless, why sometimes he’d do whatever he felt like doing.

Fortunately, right now he was inside the lair of the Grade A contaminant Hundred Eyes—and this lair was full of low-level parasitic contaminants.

If he just ate them...

Shen Wang walked out of the ward and gripped the doorframe, panting softly. He looked exhausted and frail. Tiny seeds spilled from his hanging sleeve, and the moment they hit the ground, they began to grow rapidly.

As parasitic contaminants, they acted entirely on their master’s will.

‘So hungry, I’m gonna starve to death!’

‘Eat, eat, eat! Eat everything here!’

‘Too hungry, gotta eat now!’

The vines crawled up the walls of the ward corridor, covering every painting, coiling around the eyes of every sculpture, blanketing the corridor in thorns.

They began attacking every low-level parasitic contaminant, gorging themselves wildly.

Shen Wang leaned against the vines. He couldn’t worry about whether this would cause problems right now. Shaking off his current state came first.

Low-level contaminants disguised as doctors and nurses were skewered, not even managing to let out a scream.

Shen Wang’s breathing grew heavier and heavier. Gradually he couldn’t stand properly anymore, and he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.

Creak. The door to the ward in front of him opened, and Zhou Xiangzhe stepped out.

“Shen Wang?” Zhou Xiangzhe had heard his clearly abnormal breathing. “What’s wrong with you?”

Shen Wang lifted his head, his blood-red pupils reflecting Zhou Xiangzhe’s figure.

Thwack—a vine skewered a low-level contaminant trying to flee. The contaminant crashed to the ground with a bang.

Zhou Xiangzhe turned his head ‘toward’ the sound. “What was that noise?”

“A bunch of medical staff died.” Shen Wang answered in a very faint voice, still trying to shift the blame even under the intense hunger. “Hundred Eyes is really brutal. This painting of hers seems to have some kind of plotline going on—the doctors and nurses were killing each other just now, and it hasn’t ended yet.”

“How terrifying.”

Zhou Xiangzhe’s expression turned a bit odd.

He didn’t care about the medical staff killing each other. Instead, he tried to take a step forward. As he did, the vines under his feet instantly retreated, leaving clear space for him.

Shen Wang: ...

These little things were naturally expert at seeking advantage and avoiding harm.

“Your voice doesn’t sound right.” Zhou Xiangzhe was concerned about Shen Wang. “Why are you so weak and breathless? What’s wrong? Are you sick, or...” having an episode?

He still remembered how Shen Wang was during his childhood episodes.

An unsatiable appetite, unstable emotions, extreme aggression, and a sense of frailty hidden beneath that aggression.

Only in those moments could Little Seven truly feel that Little Fifteen was a patient.

Zhou Xiangzhe walked closer to Shen Wang. Shen Wang watched him through half-lidded eyes, sitting lazily on the ground with his vines still unreleased.

That faint, elusive sandalwood fragrance was still there. Shen Wang’s nostrils twitched slightly as he felt the scent swirling around him.

Where exactly was this smell coming from?

A scent this potent didn’t seem like an ordinary contaminant. It would have to be at least Grade A to be so alluring.

Hundred Eyes? No, she didn’t seem like a contaminant with this kind of scent.

Lost in wild thoughts, Shen Wang saw Zhou Xiangzhe finally arrive in front of him. Zhou crouched down, his hand reaching out, trying to feel for him. Following the sound of Shen Wang’s breathing, he lifted his hand and accurately touched Shen Wang’s cheek.

Shen Wang jerked his head up to look at Zhou Xiangzhe.

The instant Zhou Xiangzhe touched him, that overwhelming fragrance completely engulfed Shen Wang. In a split second, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

The scent was coming from Zhou Xiangzhe!

It was Zhou Xiangzhe!

Shen Wang grabbed Zhou Xiangzhe’s wrist in return, hard enough to leave a red mark. Zhou Xiangzhe tilted his head for a second, then turned it back, but his brows slowly furrowed. He could feel that the moment Shen Wang grabbed him, the whole atmosphere shifted, as if even the air had gone rigid.

An immense sense of threat and tension hit him head-on. Even though he couldn’t see, he could feel the pressure.

And—something seemed to be climbing up his arm. It felt like plant stalks, with prickly thorns... Vines? Were those vines?

“Shen Wang, let go of me.” Zhou Xiangzhe said hurriedly. “You’ve got Blood Thorn seeds parasitizing you.”

He couldn't see—couldn't see Shen Wang's altered face, couldn't see the thorny vines snaking out of his arm, couldn't see his blood-red eyes. Zhou Xiangzhe could only reckon that the Blood Thorn had seeded itself inside Shen Wang back at Qianzhen Residential Area, and now, a parasitic Contamination Burst had erupted.

“Shen Wang!”

Shen Wang didn’t let go. Instead, he moved closer, little by little, until he was right in front of Zhou Xiangzhe, his face near Zhou’s, his nose right beside Zhou’s neck.

Zhou Xiangzhe felt Shen Wang’s warm breath on his bare neck and ear.

“Shen Wang?” Zhou Xiangzhe called again.

“Mm.” Shen Wang answered lazily, eyes half-closed, then asked, “Zhou Xiangzhe, are you human or a contaminant?”

Zhou Xiangzhe blinked in surprise. Even though his golden eyes had no focus, his momentary shock was plain to see.

“Why do you carry a contaminant’s scent?” Shen Wang murmured softly. “Like incense from a temple, so fragrant.”

“Zhou Xiangzhe, you’re not a contaminant, right?”

Zhou Xiangzhe’s expression turned terribly grim. He tore the vines off his arm, letting them pierce his flesh and draw bright red blood. He flung the broken vines aside, then reached to pull Shen Wang close, trying to tear the vines off him as well.

Shen Wang frowned and dodged his hands.

“Shen Wang, snap out of it.” Zhou Xiangzhe pressed down on his hands. “I am not a contaminant.”

“If you think I’m a contaminant, it means your Contamination Level is exceeding safe limits right now!”

Huh?

Shen Wang picked up on something off in that sentence.

What did that mean? Why would having an excessive Contamination Level make him think Zhou was a contaminant?

What kind of twisted logic was that?