TSM Chapter 81

The strong smell of blood in the basement pulled him back to reality. Mòtuō seemed to have a sudden inspiration, moving a new canvas and leaning it against the table, continuously starting to paint. On the worktable, blood “drip, drip” fell into the bucket…

An impassioned voice slowly turned: “Tonight, the cracks in the floor are filled with blood, the sticky sound at the head of the bed is incessant, like the moon’s pale face unable to stop dripping black, scalding wax, silently flowing in the gray interlayer of today and tomorrow, liquid black intimately entangled with the heart, icy cold beneath the body, like bones dug from a grave silently piling up behind the head, stingy with even a trace of warmth, the sky will not dawn, then forget this crazy, separated century of making clothes with human skin, and mourn in the eternal night.”

Lǐ Ào took his newly completed work to a ventilated place nearby, where several masterpieces were naturally drying, arranged neatly, and slowly opened his mouth, “I wonder how Ming-ge is doing?”

“As long as we complete the task assigned by Dà Guǐ (Big Devil), we can go see Ming-ge.” Mòtuō smiled at him and continued, “Don’t worry! Lóng-ge will take good care of her.”

“Still no reply to messages?”

“Dare to hurt Ming-ge…”

“No, Lóng-ge’s instructions are not to kill them.”

“OK! I won’t be gossipy, won’t ask too much, won’t speculate on the thoughts of the Big Brothers.” Mòtuō raised both hands above his head and pouted.

After Lǐ Ào left, Mòtuō’s slender eyes drooped slightly, intentionally or unintentionally glancing at the undried oil painting on the ground, and after hesitating again and again, he still pressed the newly saved number…

Zuǒ Yú’s lips curled into a warm smile, pretending to only hear the caller’s voice, hesitating and cautiously probing, “I…I wouldn’t be…Wouldn’t be that gentleman from the restaurant just now, right?”

“Alas, how sad! It’s only been a few hours since we parted, and Mr. Yǐn doesn’t even remember my name?”

Zuǒ Yú’s face was gloomy, but the gentle voice coming out seemed unrelated to him, “I have always had a very bad memory for like-minded people. Could it be that Mr. Mò calling so late is for some matter?”

“Mòtuōlǐ’ào, I will always be waiting for Mr. Yǐn’s esteemed visit!”

“Good, I’ve noted it.”

“Then rest early, Mr. Yǐn. We’ll see you another day.”

Just one line, he read it repeatedly several times. He still clicked reply: All is well.

Zuǒ Yú waited and waited, grinding coffee and returning, but still couldn’t get a reply. Looking closely at the question he asked just now, was there something that touched a nerve? Did 983 know Spade 6? He quickly shook his head, denying this guess. He had helped him so many times, he could never be a member of the Poker Gang. Then why wouldn’t he reply?

The next night, at Twilight Bar, Zuǒ Yú sped and parked his car on the side of the road, entered with a slightly apprehensive mood, and didn’t go upstairs, but chose to sit at the familiar bar, and nodded to the bartender, who quickly placed a glass of whisky in front of him.

The bar was as crowded as usual, a mixed bag of people. He pondered carefully and tentatively asked, “Where’s your boss?”

“How could I tell you the boss’s whereabouts!” The bartender replied warmly, with a slight smile.

“Have you seen her at Twilight these past few days?” Zuǒ Yú stared straight ahead at him, observing his micro-expressions.

His eyes darted around, not answering his question directly. “Sir, seeing that you know Ming-ge, you should have her contact information!” He paused, and continued, “If you want to find her, you can just make a phone call.”

He pressed his ear close to the doorknob, and after a few attempts, he picked the lock and entered the dimly lit room…

Download Chapter as TXT