Jie Moshu didn't answer my question. Instead, he just stared at me. The smile in his face had long faltered. His dark eyes made no indication that he was tricking me as though he was sincere. They reflected warm, kind, and a hint of... sadness. Why would he seemed sad? Something unfamiliar fluttered on my stomach.
"So... what's your answer?" I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, desperately pretending that I hadn't seen his painful expression.
"Come with me."
It all happened so fast. One minute Jie Moshu was standing next to me. The next, he grabbed my arm as he turned one of the artifacts to the left side. Suddenly, one of shelves in his study room flung opened, revealing a passageway with staircases.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked furiously, my wrist kept pulling against his grasp. "Let me go, Jie Moshu!"
It was when my eyes roamed to the passageway, I finally stopped struggling.
For God's sake, it's a secret passage. In movies, the killer always take his victims down on a secret tunnel, then revealing a dim, dusty room where there was asylum-like bed with restraints. Almost covered with red—sprays on the walls and puddles on the floor. It was the killer's sanctuary.
I stared at Jie Moshu and my jaw dropped.
He was an attractive man a perfectly styled dark hair, his porcelain pale skin, dark eyes that glittered with somehow crimson—the very exact hint of bloodthirsty. Moreover, his working desk was unusually neat, it was a clear fact he had OCD. Usually a handsome person who had OCD, have an unrequited love, deep affection towards another to the point that it would send him into a lunatic-maniac state... was the signs of a psycho-killer!
Jie Moshu was a psycho-killer?!!
My realization came to an immediate horror feeling that I may have irritated him. A psycho-killer must not be provoked. With my brain engaged, at least I should make sure I didn't go through the worst possibility. But in the end, what had I done? I was making a pathway for myself to my own grave.
Oh, God. Should I just... retreat?
"Jie Moshu... I think it's not really necessary to know about that," I said, my voice were cracking with nerves. "I'm still... a bit dizzy."
'Do not look at his face', I warned myself. 'Keep your head low.'
He took my chin in his hand and I tried to glance away. "Why? Are you afraid now?" he smirked, "Didn't you want to know my answer?"
At that, my jaw clenched. I stammered at last, "Me... me? Ha, I don't afraid. Just, bring it on."
Somehow I managed to act strong, although inside I had been shrinking away. Okay, this was not good.
"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to do anything with you," I was about to exhale in relief when he added under his breath, "not yet."
Dammit. I knew he was up to something to "ruin" me. Baba really did entrust me to this psycho-killer hand, without any barriers. Just like that. There's no point of fighting back. Jie Moshu would probably think I was only a rabbit who kept on jumping here and there in a wolf's den. I was naïve and weak. Instead of quietly following his lead, there was nothing I could do.
I was crying—deep inside my heart! Hopeless was rising inside me when I couldn't afford to be teary in front of this cunning man.
Jie Moshu led me down the staircase. Finally, we reached a door. He pushed over the old rustic door, and I peered in both in curiosity and anxiety. Who knew that behind this door was filled up with something horrid that could threaten my life—something a psycho-killer would have, like a tube for containing people as display.
Yuck. Every time I thought about that, there was a nasty heaving feeling on my stomach.
As we slid through the door, I found myself in an entrance hall with a metal ceiling fixture and low lighting. The travertine-tiles was lined with family portraits, hung frame to frame on the pale gray walls. Chinese figure stands and vessels from the ancient dynasty furnished the area. As I passed through, I caught a glimpse of myself in a gilt-frame mirror, and from the reflection I suddenly saw a portrait of a woman.
I turned around, very slowly, got on my feet to approach that picture. The face of that woman seemed vague but I could tell that her face must be very charming. Even only showing her back, my eyes were already attached to her picture. A portion of her long wavy dark brown hair was combed into a bun in place by a hairpin, while most of her hair were let loose. Her clothes were simple violet robe from the ancient dynasty. She was stretching her arms, as though she was welcoming. And there was a phoenix perched still and quiet on her elegant hand. Its wings were outstretched as its flaming eyes were fixed on the woman, showing its affection. Sling!
I almost tumbled from astonishment. For a moment, I felt the phoenix gaze were turned at me. It looked at me, the same way on how it looked at that woman!
A sudden coldness trickled down my spine. What had happened? Did the painting bird just turned at me? I stared it back, light-headed with horror. Was this a haunted house? There was a ghost in here?!!
Enough with the psycho-killer! And now a haunted house? Double whammy. Could things just be as normal as I wanted them to?
To my consternation, I found myself clutching my hands on Jie Moshu's arm, tightly. As I saw him smiling at me, I dropped my hands off him. What an opportunist!
Cautiously, my head swiveled to side—who knew there would be ghosts paintings like Sadako crawling out from a TV. So, I could run for my life first. Again, my mouth snapped open in shock, it was far worse than seeing Sadako in real life. I saw the familiar faces of that woman in every portrait in the hall—every each one of them. The only difference was probably the painting timeline, like they were in different eras, different clothing, but the same exact woman. And the phoenix bird was only on that picture earlier.
"Heavens." I stared at the pictures as though transfixed. Jie Moshu was far more frightening than Sadako, he was my worst nightmare.
I was only inches away from him now, studying his face, confirming my suspicion. I briefly rubbed my temples, looking at him in disgust. "Are you a pervert?"
Jie Moshu choked and coughed at my words. "A pervert?" he frowned, I could feel he was flabbergasted. "Is that what's inside your little head all along?"
What kind of man that kept tons women portraits hanging on a secret room? Of course, it seemed very strange and maniac. He was insane. Other than pervert, I couldn't think anyone would manage to do such disgusting things.
"Like I say, I don't want to marry—or I need to say, I don't trust you," I said at last, a little blunt. "What you proposed earlier, about my disease. Of course, I want to be cured; I want to swim, get into competitions again. But that doesn't mean I have to sacrifice my own happiness being entangled by someone I barely know, and with a love history at that."
"Huayu." My head jerked up when he called me with my name. He would usually just call me "wife" here and there. So, why suddenly changed?
He met my eyes, looking all sincere and painful. "You asked me why I choose you and do I even love you; I don't need to answer that, all you need to do is see my actions."
"Like recording my voice to agree marrying you?" I stared at him, sardonically. "What action do you mean? Oh, you mean these different women here? Which one, Jie Moshu? I can't understand any of what you did."
"Do you know how many—" Jie Moshu broke off and sigh. "For years, I've been waiting for you, searching for you. Plus, Axiang also missed you, his mother. These portraits are all you."
Oh, God. I was blinking...
All of these ultimate beauty, they were me? Oh, perfect. Just what terrific excuse he had there.
I scoffed, looking at him disbelievingly. "You know what? We can just cancel off our agreement. I'm done. No more hubby-wifey things. I don't want to be cured anymore. I'm happy with my life now."
There's a weird beat of silence swept to the hall. He didn't look at me. I took that as my chance for me ebbing away. I couldn't bare to be with him any longer.
"I'm going back. Goodbye, Mr. Jie. Hope we don't have the chance to see each other again."
As I was turning away, Jie Moshu made a sudden grab on my wrist. He locked me with his massive, strong forearms, yanking me closer. I stomped on his feet, nudged on him hard on his ribs, trying to struggle away from him. I even bit his arms, which left a mark. He didn't yell or wince from the jolt of pain. Maybe, my struggling was only like mosquito stings to him.
I felt so angry. Yes. It was anger that rose inside me.
I yelled and wriggled, "Jie Moshu! Get your hands off me! Are you crazy?!"
"Liu Huayu! If you're not cured—!" He shot back in angry exclamations, but then he paused.
What did he mean if I wasn't cured? My stomach started flip-flopping. He must have known something.
As he loosened his grasp on me, he turned me, facing him. He gazed me intently with a grave expression. I knew that expression, but I expected it could be nothing. Just a hunch.
Except it was never nothing, right? Otherwise, why would he bother to say so?
"Is something wrong with me?" I said almost aggressively, both anger and terror wobbling in my voice. "Tell me..."
His voice became gentler, but his face was serious. "If you're not cured, you'll die."