Ah! The Villains I Forced to Turn Evil Can Read My Mind

Chapter 152

Qiao Chuchu gestured for Weisheng Wenzhan to look at the hand of the woman in the painting: "When a normal person lies down, no matter how they pose, their wrist can't possibly bend like this."

She then asked, "May I borrow your hand for a moment?"

Weisheng Wenzhan raised his hand, and she took it, mimicking the posture of the woman in the painting: "You see, a normal person's hand can't twist any further than this. If I try to bend it more, it would hurt, right?"

Weisheng Wenzhan nodded, listening intently.

Qiao Chuchu continued, "Suppose you were the painter, and you were painting someone you love. Would you twist their hand like this? What's more, with the wrist bent so unnaturally, the model is still smiling. Just looking at it makes me feel pain—how could she possibly smile?"

Weisheng Wenzhan's expression gradually grew more profound. "Then why hasn't anyone raised this issue before?"

Qiao Chuchu let go of his hand and countered with a question of her own: "Do you know why I stopped painting and switched to drawing comics instead?"

Weisheng Wenzhan looked at her, puzzled.

She smiled wryly. "Because no one dared to tell me the truth. No matter what I painted, they all said it was good, and they all rushed to buy it. After all, I'm the eighth young lady of the Pei family. The Pei family's eighth young lady can do no wrong."

Qiao Chuchu sighed, gazing at the figure in the painting. "I find his paintings unsettling, with their twisted hands, but I won't say anything. I don't want to cause trouble, nor do I care to interfere with someone else's aesthetic. As long as everyone keeps up appearances, that's fine. But from now on, I'll avoid this painter. I won't come back."

She glanced around the room. "All of these are young girls and flowers. The girls' bodies are buried under the flowers, with only their faces and parts of their bodies visible. At first glance, it looks beautiful, but there's something off about the twisted limbs."

"This is supposed to be realistic oil painting," she said, growing more and more horrified. "He uses live models, yet he paints these girls as distorted artworks and hangs them on the wall. What kind of mindset must he have while painting them?"

Qiao Chuchu shuddered at the thought. "I'm going to find my eldest brother. It's about time we left."

Weisheng Wenzhan nodded, his eyes fixed on the paintings on the wall.

The girls were buried in flowers, with only their arms, thighs, and faces visible.

He looked at the other paintings.

One girl lay on her side on the ground, her eyes closed peacefully, surrounded by rose thorns.

Roses coiled around her pale neck, wrists, ankles, and waist.

She lay on a wooden floor, her dark hair strewn with rose petals.

Bright red, delicate rose petals.

Weisheng Wenzhan scanned the surrounding paintings, a chill creeping up his spine like a tightly wound machine, each gear locking into place, tightening his nerves.

He ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????understood!

He understood!!

Weisheng Wenzhan strode over to Qiao Chuchu and warned her in a low voice, "Go wait for us by the cake. I'll go find your eldest brother!"

Qiao Chuchu was confused but nodded. "Alright."

Weisheng Wenzhan looked around the exhibition and spotted the Pei brothers on the second floor.

He climbed the steps and went straight to them, saying bluntly, "I know who the killer is."

Pei Yuan: "What?"

Weisheng Wenzhan glanced around and lowered his voice. "The person who will kill Qiao Chuchu in the future is Meng Yashu. The flowers symbolize the dismembered bodies of the girls. He killed those girls and then used live models as a cover, openly painting them."

Weisheng Wenzhan was absolutely certain. "The way these models appear in the paintings is exactly how the corpses looked!"

The Pei brothers paled, all of them shocked.

Pei Buxian was stunned. "Why would you think that?"

"Qiao Chuchu mentioned it," Weisheng Wenzhan said. "She said the paintings made her uncomfortable, with their twisted bones and deformed poses, yet the models were still smiling. It made her feel like they were dead."

Lou Tingsi frowned. "But Meng Yashu is a weak, sickly man. He's always frail—he doesn't seem capable of killing anyone."

Ying Chen looked around in surprise, growing more and more horrified. "Wenzhan, aren't you overthinking this? Could it be a misunderstanding?"

Pei Yuan remained silent, slowly digesting Weisheng Wenzhan's words.

A cheerful voice rang out from nearby. "Welcome, everyone, to my exhibition!"

He turned toward the source of the sound.

A crowd had gathered without anyone noticing.

Meng Yashu stood in front of a massive painting, his face wearing a warm, spring-like smile as he spoke in English. "I know everyone is curious about this painting I've covered. Actually, it's a work in progress."

He looked at the enormous painting on the wall, still shrouded in white cloth, its true appearance hidden.

"This painting has taken me three years to create. I've worked on it meticulously, but I never painted the face because I felt I hadn't found the perfect touch."

Meng Yashu's expression softened, as if he were gazing at a lover. "But now I've found it. I know how to complete it."

He looked as if a long-cherished wish had been fulfilled, savoring the moment. "So now, I hope you'll all join me in appreciating this unfinished work and anticipate its completion."

With a flourish, he pulled off the white cloth!

As the cloth fell, the crowd gasped in awe.

The painting depicted a girl with a pair of stunning feathered wings, like an angel descending from heaven.

The girl had no facial features, yet she looked incredibly lifelike, her curly hair blown by the wind, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her hands twisted unnaturally to form a heart shape over her chest.

The girl's hands looked as though they had been forcibly bent, her wrists and fingers adorned with delicate pink rose garlands.

This was the only painting where the torso wasn't obscured by flowers; instead, small flowers were used as accents.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

The crowd erupted in admiration. "Wow! How stunning!"

"What a gorgeous painting! It's touched my soul!"

Meng Yashu basked in the praise, his eyes filled with love as he gazed at the painting. "For three years, I've prayed to the heavens for inspiration for this painting. And when it finally came to me, I knew it was a divine sign."

Meng Yashu's gaze swept through the crowd and landed on Pei Yuan's face. "Gentlemen of the Pei family, what do you think?"

His smile stretched wide as he asked joyfully, "Isn't this painting perfect?"

Pei Youchuan's eye twitched, his anger flaring. "You son of a—"

Pei Yuan stopped his brother and calmly walked up to the painting.

The Pei family's eyes were like venom, glaring fiercely at Meng Yashu.

In contrast, Pei Yuan's gaze was gentle.

He carefully examined every detail of the painting, the flowers entwined around the figure, and the more he looked, the more his eyes sparkled with amusement. He turned to Meng Yashu. "It's perfect."

Meng Yashu's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Then, if I finish it, would you consider buying it?"

"Of course," Pei Yuan replied softly. "Provided that you complete it."

Meng Yashu stared intently at Pei Yuan. "I will definitely finish it."

He smiled, his eyes narrowing into slits. "When the time comes, I hope you'll honor me with your presence."

Pei Yuan said nothing more and turned to leave, his smile fading bit by bit until he stood before Weisheng Wenzhan. "Send Weisheng Huailing to investigate."

Weisheng Wenzhan's voice was icy. "I already sent him. He's probably infiltrated by now."

As soon as he finished speaking, his phone rang.

Weisheng Wenzhan opened his phone, and his expression darkened at the photo. "I was right."

He showed the phone to the others. "Meng Yashu is the killer."