302: Chapter 302 All Men Should Die

Han Jingyang carefully observed the oil painting on the wall.

The woman in the painting was a typical Oriental woman, wearing a simple white dress; her face was gentle and delicate, her features plump with a hint of baby fat, her eyebrows curved, and her eyelashes long. Around her neck hung a verdant heart-shaped pendant, likely jade; judging by the size and color in the painting, it was probably worth a fortune.

The woman sat sideways, but her face was turned toward the viewer; the lines from her neck to her waist and hips formed a double helix, natural and graceful.

She also wore a pair of emerald-green heart-shaped studs on her ears.

The overall feeling was very comfortable, the painting style was delicate and soft, and the subject was sweet and lovely, completely different from the currently popular internet celebrity "Awl Faces"—it was a simple and natural beauty.

Doudou said softly, "Please observe carefully."

Han Jingyang frowned slightly as he examined every minute detail of the woman in the painting, suddenly realizing she looked somewhat familiar, and he quickly turned to look at Doudou beside him.

He looked at Doudou.

Then he looked back at the woman in the painting.

The facial features and temperament of the two were very... similar?

What was going on?

He asked tentatively, "A relative of yours?"

Doudou nodded. "My mother."

"And then?"

"My mother passed away the year I was born; complications during childbirth, excessive blood loss."

"Was it painted before she passed away?"

"She wasn't even twenty when she died."

Han Jingyang narrowed his eyes.

Died before she was twenty?

But the woman in the painting was clearly more mature, at least twenty-five.

There was a huge difference between a teenage girl and a woman in her twenties.

When painting in oil, especially a realistic one, it was impossible to paint a teenage girl and have her look like she was in her twenties.

Han Jingyang thought for a moment. "Are you sure it's your mother?"

Doudou turned around, took out her wallet, pulled out a photo, and handed it to Han Jingyang. "This is my mother's wedding photo."

Han Jingyang took the photo, glanced at it, and his body suddenly froze.

The woman in the photo and the woman in the oil painting were almost identical; the features, hairstyle, face, clothing, shoes, furniture, and pose were all exactly the same.

Including that set of jewelry that clearly looked expensive.

Han Jingyang narrowed his eyes and looked closely; the green jewelry in the photo definitely wasn't glass or anything like that—it was jadeite, specifically top-grade Glass-type Imperial Green Jadeite; the pendant and studs were worth at least five million.

At least.

Even twenty years ago, it would have been worth millions.

The price of top-tier jadeite has never been cheap from the mid-Qing Dynasty to the present; it has always been rising.

This matter was indeed eerie.

Han Jingyang took out his phone and snapped two high-definition photos. "Continue telling me about the strange things regarding this painting," he said.

Doudou's body trembled. "When I first bought this painting, I didn't think much of it. I thought she just looked like my mother. At most, I thought my mother might have had a long-lost sister. I went home and asked my father and grandparents, but they couldn't give me a clear answer and didn't take it seriously either. But..."

"But what?"

"But after that, I started having strange dreams frequently."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Painting."

"Painting?"

"Yes. In my dreams, I would paint all sorts of women. They wore different clothes and struck different poses. It happened every night."

"And then?"

"And then, every time I woke up from a dream, I felt exhausted. But my painting skills improved by leaps and bounds. My teacher praised me as a genius and even wanted to sign me, saying they'd package me as the world's most famous female oil painter and that I was the best at painting women."

"You refused?"

"I was tempted at the time, but my dreams became stranger and stranger. The women in the dreams gradually lost their initial joy and sweetness, becoming anxious, then later irritable, angry, and perverse. They even started attacking and self-harming. I was attacked or even killed by these women several times in my dreams..."

"And then what happened?"

"I realized something was wrong and tried to give up oil painting. I even tried to throw away, destroy, or burn this oil painting. But as long as I slept, the painting would reappear at my bedside, time and time again. And every time I tried to discard or destroy it, I would suffer the same injuries in my dreams."

"The same injuries? What do you mean?"

"I first threw the painting directly into the trash, and that night I dreamed I was thrown into a trash can, unable to move or breathe amidst the stinking garbage. By dawn, I was loaded into a garbage truck and taken to a refuse station, where I was fed into a giant mixer..."

"And the second time?"

"The second time, I... I took the painting to the outskirts, poured a whole bucket of gasoline on it, and burned it."

"And that night?"

"That night I had the same dream. I was stuffed into a black duffel bag, driven to the outskirts, and doused with gasoline..."

Speaking to this point, Doudou's body began to shake uncontrollably. Her speech became intermittent and stuttering, and her expression grew increasingly twisted. Amidst her twitching, the face of another person could faintly be seen—ghastly and terrifying, making one's hair stand on end.

Han Jingyang suppressed his fear and remained motionless, staring intently at Doudou.

After ten minutes or so, Doudou gradually regained her composure. She staggered back two steps and slumped onto the foot of the bed, gasping for air. "Mr. Han, what did you see?"

"Several human faces."

"Aren't... aren't you afraid?"

Han Jingyang smiled. "Little Sister-in-law, in that state just now, was your consciousness clear?"

Doudou nodded, then shook her head. "I could clearly see you were there, but my thoughts were very chaotic. My mind was filled with all sorts of crazy ideas, wanting to..."

Han Jingyang finished her sentence. "Kill us, using the methods you experienced in your dreams."

Doudou nodded with difficulty.

"How long does this state of being on the verge of losing control last? How often does it happen?"

"Before, it would happen every one or two months. But as time passed, the frequency of losing control increased, and the symptoms became more severe. I'm less and less able to control myself. Since the start of summer this year, I could lose control at any time and any place."

"Have you seen a professional?"

"I found one, and then... he died."

"Did you kill him?"

Doudou closed her eyes in pain and sobbed, "I couldn't control my..."

Han Jingyang remained unmoved and asked calmly, "How did you kill him?"

Doudou looked up blankly, her eyes unfocused as if entering a state of recollection. She murmured, "That man... that man had bad intentions. He said I was possessed by a ghost and that to exorcise it, I had to absorb his Yang Energy. I agreed. He took off his clothes happily, and I... I swung the picture frame and smashed it down... suitcase... outskirts... gasoline... fire..."

Doudou spoke fitfully, her eyes becoming even more chaotic, with a hint of madness appearing in the confusion. Her mouth hung wide open, saliva streaming down, and her limbs began to twitch uncontrollably.

These symptoms were almost identical to being "possessed" in folklore.

But Han Jingyang knew it was a completely different matter.

There are distinctions between being "possessed" and being "possessed."

No, there are many types.

This Little Sister-in-law Doudou's situation was the most serious kind, very tricky.

Even Han Jingyang wasn't sure he could cure it.

Because he had never encountered such a complex situation before.

Just then, Doudou, who was twitching on the bed, suddenly sprang up straight. She let out a piercing shriek and lunged at Han Jingyang with her mouth wide open, her face having already changed into that of another woman.

The woman's face was hideous, her eyes filled with madness and hatred. She screamed as she clawed at Han Jingyang's throat, "All men deserve to die—"