The Night Watcher of Great Jing - Chapter 112

Han Yin’s face turned white. “A-are all those people inside this image of hell?”

She stared at the painting in horror.

Simple black-and-white ink strokes, varying in shade and depth, formed a terrifying vision of hell.

Snow filled the sky above an empty wasteland.

Several hunched figures sat or lay across the desolate plain.

Their bare feet rested amid knife-sharp icicles covering the ground.

Each was impossibly thin, with only a film of skin stretched over the bones, yet their bellies were enormous.

They resembled the hungry ghosts of legend.

Han Yin instinctively turned her head away in discomfort. After a pause, however, she turned back and examined the painting closely.

A skeletal child crouched in the snow. His tiny body seemed unable to support his oversized head.

The little figure suddenly moved. In an exceedingly slow, halting motion, like images with missing frames, he crawled toward a woman lying on the ground.

He moved so slowly that a long time passed before he reached her.

Then he nestled gently against her arm.

Han Yin’s voice trembled. “Can we save them?”

People naturally found it easy to sympathize with children and the weak.

Zhao Li did not answer. She frowned and studied the scroll.

She knew the image did more than imprison souls and subject them to endless torment.

Sure enough, after the tiny figure had huddled against the woman for a moment, he abruptly raised his head.

His mouth split into a grin, revealing rows of sharp little teeth, and he bit into the woman’s arm.

Like a small beast, he shook his head and tore a strip of flesh from the wasted limb.

The scroll was not large, and its figures were only palm-sized, yet the scene unfolded vividly before them.

The sudden cruelty struck Han Yin’s eyes. Her heart had been full of sympathy, and the abrupt reversal badly frightened her.

She burrowed straight into Zhao Li’s arms.

Zhao Li held her and gently patted her back, but her gaze remained on the scroll.

After tearing away the flesh, the child in the painting frantically stuffed it into his mouth, trying to fill his stomach.

But while his mouth was crowded with fangs, his throat was as narrow as a needle’s eye.

No matter how desperately his little hands pushed the meat inside, none reached his stomach.

His actions seemed to serve as a signal. The people who had huddled together for warmth swiftly began tearing and biting at one another.

The arm of the prostrate woman was stripped to white bone. With her intact hand, she grabbed the child and dragged him toward her mouth.

The ink painting contained no blood-red color, yet the sight of mother and child devouring one another chilled everyone more deeply than any field of vivid gore.

“Why? Why?” Han Yin murmured.

When she first heard the story, part of her had wondered whether this was retribution for the fur merchant’s family.

She had thought only the other family innocent and pitiable.

Now that she saw the truth, she realized how wrong she had been.

Such gratifying revenge was far too cruel and utterly without limits.

Even Shen Yan and Zheng Lian looked uncomfortable.

Broad stains of ink spread across the scene as the naked figures tore at one another.

Flesh littered the ground, yet not one figure could swallow what they ripped away.

After a long while, the painting was filled with mutilated bodies and severed limbs.

Another gray veil of snowy mist swept past. The mangled figures regrew bone and flesh.

They remained trapped in this cycle, unable to escape.

“Li, what can we do?”

Han Yin was kindhearted by nature. She asked the question softly.

Zhao Li considered it seriously, then sighed. “They can no longer be saved.”

The souls in the painting had already descended into complete madness. Even if they were released, they would be nothing more than vicious ghosts, filled with venom and bereft of reason.

At that moment, Shen Yan suddenly called, “Li.”

He tilted his head, signaling for her to come closer.

When Zhao Li leaned in, she saw hairline cracks appearing in the locust-wood roller.

Her heart began to pound.

[New Mission: The Painting. Someone created this scroll for a certain purpose, intending to bring disaster and destruction. Destroying the painting is only the beginning.]

[Note: Perhaps the painting itself can lead you to some clues.]

The suddenly triggered mission made Zhao Li realize how serious the problem was.

This was not as simple as two craftsmen taking revenge. If the roller broke and the things inside escaped, how terrifying would the consequences be?

Someone was deliberately manufacturing a terrifying weapon in an attempt to stir the world into turmoil.

The system rarely appeared, but Zhao Li knew its warnings could be trusted.

“Here.” Shen Yan’s long fingers explored the roller, then pointed out a tiny hidden seal.

The mark was carved into the black roller. Even with narrowed eyes, Zhao Li could not make it out.

She reached out and felt it.

“It says Nanzhai.”

Before Zhao Li could react, Zheng Lian and Han Yin exclaimed in unison, “Nanzhai?”

Zhao Li was baffled. Was this Nanzhai famous?

The moment Han Yin spoke, she seemed to realize something. Her face flushed and she lowered her head.

Zheng Lian also looked away uncomfortably.

Zhao Li turned a confused gaze on Shen Yan.

He pressed his lips together and did not answer at once.

After a pause, he averted his eyes slightly. “Nanzhai is a painter. He… specializes in erotic illustrations.”

Oh! An artist of dirty pictures!

Zhao Li understood immediately. “Is this Nanzhai’s painting?”

Her calm acceptance made the other three feel that their embarrassment was pointless.

Shen Yan gave Zheng Lian a look.

Zheng Lian cleared his throat and leaned closer. “Upon careful examination, it truly does appear to be Master Nanzhai’s work.”

Han Yin nodded beside him.

This Master Nanzhai was plainly famous throughout Great Jing if even a sheltered young woman like Han Yin knew of him.

Zhao Li rubbed her chin. “Can we find him?”

Shen Yan shook his head. “Nanzhai is proud and mysterious. Even when communicating with galleries, he never appears in person.”

“He also produced no new work for three years. There were rumors that he had put down his brush.”

Zheng Lian was clearly a fan and knew Nanzhai’s movements well. “Those rumors were only disproved when another new work appeared a few days ago.”

Zhao Li teased, “Did you buy it?”

Zheng Lian blushed. “N-no. We hadn’t been paid for the month yet.”

With everyone present, Zhao Li could not tease him too much. She returned her attention to the scroll.

For now, they needed to handle the object safely.

Destroying it directly could cause disaster with the slightest mistake.

Zhao Li thought, then told Zheng Lian, “Find brushes and ink, then buy a live chicken.”

First, she would try to resolve some of the souls’ resentment and prevent the situation from worsening.

Brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone were soon purchased and arranged on the table.

Zhao Li added chicken blood and a mashed piece of raw chicken liver to the freshly ground ink.

Only then did she spread out the painting they had found.

After their frenzy, the people inside seemed exhausted. Their earlier savagery had vanished, and they once again crowded together, huddling for warmth.