Chapter 2: Sweet Moments
The morning sunlight streamed through the gallery's glass windows, scattering into tiny fragments of light. Lin Mo pushed open the gallery door, and the bell chimed crisply. Su Yuqing was standing on a ladder, arranging the paintings. Hearing the sound, she turned her head, her smile radiant.
"You're here early," she said, climbing down the ladder. "Care to try the coffee I just made?"
Lin Mo took the cup, feeling its warmth spread to his hands. He noticed the butterfly-shaped moonstone brooch Su Yuqing wore today, its soft glow shimmering under the morning light.
"That's a beautiful brooch," Lin Mo remarked.
"It's a keepsake from my mother," Su Yuqing said softly, her fingers brushing the brooch. Her gaze flickered with a trace of wistfulness. "She gave it to me before she passed away, saying it was the most precious gift she could leave me."
Lin Mo was about to ask more when he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure outside the window. By the time he focused, the figure had vanished around the corner.
"What's wrong?" Su Yuqing followed his gaze.
"Probably nothing. Maybe I was seeing things." Lin Mo shifted his attention back to her, his eyes landing on her wrist. "Your watch—it's quite unique. An antique, perhaps?"
"Yes, I picked it up during a trip to Europe." Su Yuqing glanced at her watch. "It's eight o'clock; time to open the gallery."
She walked over to the counter and took out an embossed invitation card from the drawer. "There's a special exhibition next week. Will you come?"
Lin Mo accepted the card, noting a string of numbers printed in the lower-right corner: M1924. The sequence felt strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite recall where he had seen it.
Just as he was about to ask, Su Yuqing's phone rang. Her expression stiffened momentarily when she saw the caller ID.
"Sorry, I need to take this," she said quickly, heading to the back room.
Left alone, Lin Mo wandered around the gallery, eventually stopping at the door to Su Yuqing's private studio. It was slightly ajar, revealing the corner of a red notebook peeking out of a drawer. At that moment, a faint, unfamiliar foreign language drifted out. The voice was low but carried an urgent tone.
When Su Yuqing returned, she seemed somewhat distracted.
"Just work," she explained, "I'm preparing for an important exhibition."
As the days went by, Lin Mo and Su Yuqing spent more time together. She took him to her favorite art museums, explaining various artistic movements. Her profound knowledge of art history, particularly European classical painting, left Lin Mo impressed.
However, Lin Mo began to notice peculiarities. Every afternoon from three to five, Su Yuqing would vanish under various pretexts. Her studio remained perpetually off-limits, citing a need for absolute privacy while creating.
Even stranger was the persistent presence of the man in black. Sometimes, Lin Mo spotted him across the street at a café; other times, he lurked by a newsstand at the corner, a shadow that refused to dissipate.
One evening, while they strolled by the lake, Su Yuqing suddenly stopped and looked at Lin Mo intently.
"If I were to disappear one day, what would you think?" she asked.
"Why would you ask that?" Lin Mo was caught off guard.
"Just a hypothetical," she said with a faint smile. "Life is full of the unexpected."
The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her face. Lin Mo noticed a faint scar behind her ear.
"That scar…"
"An old injury from when I was a child," she said, instinctively touching the spot. "It's nothing significant—just something from the past."
She quickly changed the subject, recounting her experiences studying in Europe. Yet, Lin Mo couldn't shake the feeling that her smile concealed an unspoken burden.
At the exhibition's opening a week later, Lin Mo finally met the gallery's owner, Gu Yun. A man in his forties with refined manners, Gu Yun spoke of art with expertise and admiration. Yet, when he interacted with Su Yuqing, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding between them.
"Miss Su is a rare talent," Gu Yun remarked to Lin Mo. "Her grasp of art is exceptional."
Lin Mo noticed Gu Yun's gaze linger briefly on the butterfly brooch pinned to Su Yuqing's chest.
That evening, Lin Mo escorted Su Yuqing home. At the entrance to her apartment building, she said, "Would you like to come up for a while?"
It was her first time inviting him over. The apartment was neat and tastefully decorated, with several paintings of varied styles hanging on the walls—all her own work. But the centerpiece was a canvas draped in white cloth on an easel in the living room.
"This is…"
"A work in progress," Su Yuqing said quickly, striding toward it. "I promised Mr. Gu I'd contribute to the year-end exhibition."
Lin Mo's gaze wandered, settling on a red notebook on her desk. At that moment, Su Yuqing's watch suddenly beeped. She glanced at the time: 8 p.m.
"Sorry, I have some work to finish," she said apologetically. "Let's plan another visit soon."
As Lin Mo left the building, he glanced back at Su Yuqing's lit window, her silhouette faintly visible as she spoke on the phone. Across the street, the familiar black-clad figure appeared once more.
On his way home, Lin Mo reflected on the oddities surrounding Su Yuqing: the mysterious phone calls, her fixed disappearances, the perpetually locked studio, her elusive demeanor, and the omnipresent man in black. What did it all mean?
He took out the exhibition invitation, scrutinizing the number M1924 printed on it. His instincts told him this sequence held a hidden significance.
Just then, his phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen, the digits inexplicably familiar. He was about to answer when the call abruptly ended.
Under the streetlight, Lin Mo stood deep in thought. It felt as though he were standing at the entrance to a labyrinth, and Su Yuqing was the key to its mysteries.
Inside the gallery, Su Yuqing stood before the draped canvas, her fingers brushing the butterfly brooch. Her phone lit up with an encrypted message:
"The time is set. Prepare to proceed."
She exhaled deeply and replied, "Understood."
Outside, the moonlight bathed the streets. The man in black melted into the shadows of the night. This seemingly peaceful evening would mark the beginning of everything unraveling.