Ke Xun paused. "When I was little, I was always laughed at for being a big, clumsy dummy because I was much taller than other kids my age. Nobody wanted to play with me except Dongzi, so I can understand what Li Mazi went through as a child. Of course, his situation was a hundred times worse than mine."
"Then we can imagine why Li Mazi is both Li Guaiguai's brother and his father," Mu Yiran said.
Ke Xun's expression was complicated. "Because someone like Li Mazi could never find a wife, so he had to settle for someone nearby..."
Mu Yiran, however, remained calm. "As a result, Li Mazi's son, unfortunately, was also deformed, even more so than him. So we can imagine the even more painful situation that befell him."
Ke Xun looked at him. "But Li Mazi became the longest-living person in the village. Why?"
"The reason is," Mu Yiran opened his palm, revealing a paintbrush in his hand, "that Li Mazi later became Li Jinghao."
Ke Xun stared silently at the paintbrush, its surface stained with an indeterminate red or black color.
Born with deformities, Li Mazi endured the villagers' monstrous gazes and hurtful words from childhood. This terrible mental blow and psychological pressure reached its peak after he had a son/brother who was even more deformed than himself, completely breaking the string that he had been trying so hard to endure.
Unable to bear it any longer, Li Mazi finally fled this terrible village after Li Guaiguai was born.
"While there's a 4% chance of birth defects, intellectual disabilities, or premature death from consanguineous marriage, the possibility of having a child with exceptional talent in a particular area—a so-called genius—is not small." Mu Yiran picked up a paintbrush and looked it over his eyes. "For example, the world-famous Adolf Hitler, Darwin, Einstein, and a more recent example is Li Mazi."
Ke Xun suddenly realized: "Li Mazi had a talent for painting."
Mu Yiran nodded: "After escaping Li Family Village, Li Mazi came into contact with the outside world. While struggling to make a living, he learned painting skills. Whether someone taught him or he was self-taught is impossible to verify, but after several years of hard work, he finally became a renowned painter."
Ke Xun turned to look at the empty and sparse village behind him: "Since Li Mazi could paint this picture, it means he returned to Li Family Village after becoming famous. But why did he make that pure cypress coffin for his son? Was it intentional or unintentional?"
"I suspect it was intentional." Mu Yiran threw his paintbrush to the ground. "From this painting, you can see that the resentment Li Mazi suffered during his time living in the village didn't diminish with time or his fame; instead, it accumulated into a mountain of bitterness and unease.
"The three locust trees in the painting weren't originally planted in the village, but Li Mazi included them as a symbolic representation of the theme, alluding to hatred, resentment, and a curse upon the entire village.
"I think, of all these people, Li Mazi probably hated his parents the most. If they hadn't been related by blood, they wouldn't have given birth to him, who is deformed. All the ridicule, mockery, and cold treatment he suffered in his childhood left an indelible psychological scar. So, in the painting, he depicted these three locust trees, representing a curse, outside his own yard.
"And the people he hated next most were his son/brother." The existence of Li Guaiguai signifies that Li Mazi, like his ancestors, had committed immoral, foolish, and terrifying acts—a painful memory for someone like Li Mazi who had been exposed to science and advanced ideas in the outside world.
He cannot sever his connection to his past, foolish self; it will be a stain and a nightmare for his entire life. Li Guaiguai's existence prevents him from forgetting his tragic and pitiful past, perpetuating his humiliating and painful experiences and memories. This is akin to constantly being whipped with salt water, causing him endless pain, humiliation, and hatred.
I think this is why he hates Li Guaiguai so much. Perhaps out of venting his anger, or perhaps to bury the past, he, filled with rage and hatred, created this pure cypress coffin for Li Guaiguai. He wants Li Guaiguai to be struck by lightning, reduced to ashes, and disappear without a trace, as if only in this way can Li Mazi's unbearable past be completely shattered.
"As for these dead villagers, they were clearly also objects of Li Mazi's resentment. He hated this backward and ignorant village, and he hated the ignorant ancestors left behind by his forefathers. In his mind, he probably desperately wanted this village to be wiped out and cease to exist.
"Whether out of personal resentment or out of condemnation of this feudal cancer, Li Mazi painted this desolate and resentful picture, and he also included himself in it. As the last survivor of the entire village, he wanted to witness the complete annihilation of his family."
"All of the above are based on my deductions, but I think the facts are probably not far off."
Ke Xun listened quietly to Mu Yiran's explanation and sighed softly: "No wonder that old man—Li Mazi—couldn't catch up with me. It doesn't seem like the power those things possess. It turns out it's because he is the painter himself… No, he's not the painter himself; he's the painter's own reflection in the painting. He can't be considered a 'person,' but he's not that kind of thing either."
Mu Yiran nodded: "The Li Mazi in the painting is just a reflection of a resentful mind. His true curse and venom have already been disseminated to other things and scenes in the painting."
Ke Xun's eyes lit up: "Since this old man is Li Mazi's own reflection, do you think the seal might be on the old man?"
Mu Yiran shook his head: "The seal is in the painting, for us…" For some who enter the painting, it is a redemptive existence; it cannot simultaneously be lethal. But this old man will chase you everywhere.
Ke Xun asked, "Isn't there a seal in his house?"
Mu Yiran replied, "No."
Ke Xun scratched his head, "It's getting dark again. Will this old man give us any more work tonight?"
Mu Yiran's gaze deepened, "If he doesn't, that would be extremely dangerous."
Ke Xun recalled last night, when even though he and Mu Yiran hid well, they still couldn't resist the strange noises emanating from Li Guaiguai and almost lost their lives. He scratched his arm, "While there's still some time, let's call the others to continue searching."
The two returned to the locust tree and saw Wei Dong and the others already waiting there. The doctor, seeing that the two had returned safely, asked what they had found in the old man's house.
Mu Yiran gave a brief account, leaving everyone speechless.
"Holy crap..." Wei Dong finally recovered, stammering, "When I get back, I have to ask my dad and mom if they're related by blood more than ten generations back."
Ke Xun: "...Do you hope they are or not?"
Wei Dong: "I suspect they are, otherwise what's wrong with my athlete's foot? It must be some kind of deformity."
Ke Xun: "...Believe it or not, after you ask, your dad can order you a pure cypress coffin?"
The doctor asked Mu Yiran from the side: "Now that the whole story of this painting has been sorted out, I still can't figure out where the seal could be. Xiao Mu, do you have any suggestions?"
Mu Yiran shook his head slightly: "I can't think of anything else."
"What should we do..." Ma Zhenhua's eyes reddened with anxiety, "It's getting dark, look, it's getting dark..."
Zhang Maolin was also anxious, tugging at the burlap strip around his waist. He glanced at Wei Dong, then at the pancake stall owner, and suddenly rushed towards the stall owner: "Brother, let's talk this over, how about we swap this strip? I'll give you money, whatever you want, 500,000, a million, I'll give you anything, okay?"
Wei Dong couldn't stand it anymore and said to him, "It's useless. If it were easy to swap, I would have done it already. If you swap, you'll probably suffer a backlash. Don't believe me? Ask Boss Mu and Doctor Qin."
Zhang Maolin sobbed, "I don't want to suffer some kind of bone-scraping torture! I don't want to die... I don't want to die..."
"You don't want to die, but others do?" Wei Dong said irritably, "Just accept your fate. Who told you to be assigned this character?" "
Why—why..." Zhang Maolin broke down emotionally, "Why did it have to be a character? Why did a perfectly good character have to be turned into such a supernatural thing..."
No one answered him.
The situation, without any clues or leads, made everyone anxious and frustrated, even Mu Yiran frowned.
Time ticked by, and dusk settled in.
Everyone fell silent; some racked their brains for clues, while others succumbed to despair and lost their spirits.
Ke Xun stared absently at the distorted "歹" character on Zhang Maolin's hand, then at Wei Dong's "辜" character beside him, and finally at the "央" character on his own waist.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck him.
He grabbed Mu Yiran's arm, pulled him to face him, looked him into the eyes, and asked, word by word, "The strips of cloth we're wearing belong to the old man, right? The old man is Li Mazi, right? Li Mazi is Li Jinghao, right? Li Jinghao understands the original meaning of these characters, right?"
Mu Yiran met the man's bright, dark eyes, which shone like brilliant stars against the backdrop of the dark, cloud-covered night sky.
For the first time, she didn't shake off the man's hand. Mu Yiran pursed her lips and looked at him with wide eyes: "'Jing' originally meant a towering pavilion. 'Hao' originally meant a rushing river with turbulent waters."
"—A towering pavilion!"
"—A great river!"
Ma Zhenhua and Zhang Maolin exclaimed almost simultaneously.
"There's a dried-up riverbank south of the village, and a fire-watching platform on the bank," Dr. Qin said. "We went there when we were searching for clues in the village."
"What are we waiting for? Let's go, it's already dark!" Wei Dong couldn't wait and ran towards the south of the village.
The crowd hurriedly followed, only then realizing that it had become completely dark. The night wind howled in their faces, swirled behind them, and then turned back to whip up at them, carrying with it sharp cries that, upon closer listening, seemed to emanate from the mouths of hundreds of people. Among these cries were men and women, young and old, and even a very familiar voice, screaming mournfully: "Die—you will all die—"
It was Liu Yufei's voice!
Everyone recognized it and couldn't help but turn around to look. What they saw terrified the pancake stall owner and Ma Zhenhua so much that their legs went weak and they collapsed to the ground.