Chapter 18: My Dear

Chapter 18 Darling

"Yes, my husband went out especially yesterday to visit a friend, but unfortunately that friend wasn't home, presumably that was you?"

"Yes, Madam, you may call me Karen."

"Please, come inside."

Linda opened the courtyard gate, inviting Karen in.

Karen, in turn, handed the boxed set of deluxe macarons to Linda.

He had selected them specifically at the pastry shop, the most premium variety available, at five hundred lubis a box.

The shop assistant had also thrown in some small cakes, which Karen gave to the driver—regardless of whether it really was his birthday today—purely because Karen disliked things that were too sweet.

Spending five hundred lubis on a box of pastries was indeed a bit extravagant, but since the family he was visiting was quite well-off, the corresponding gift could not be too shabby;

He could hardly allow himself to show up at their door carrying a fifty-lubi sack of sponge cakes.

After all, they had once given him twenty thousand lubis as a consultation fee.

"You are really far too kind, there was no need to bring a gift."

"It is only proper."

"Mr. Karen, did you and my husband meet while fishing, are you fishing buddies?"

I met your husband while burning him.

"Yes, your husband taught me a great deal about fishing."

"I see."

Linda led Karen into the living room;

"Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee." After a pause, Karen added, "With extra sugar, please."

"Alright, please wait a moment."

Before long, Linda returned bearing coffee and a plate of pastries.

Karen took a sip of the coffee,

His brow furrowing slightly at the bitterness,

He really wanted to ask if sugar had actually been added.

Due to his dietary habits, Karen had never harbored any particular fondness for coffee; in his past life, when he was striving for his career in his youth, he liked using coffee to refresh himself, and later, when his circumstances improved and he had the means to upgrade his lifestyle, he had tried many of the finer coffees, but he could never get used to drinking them.

It was the same with tea; accustomed to brewing it in one large mug after another, when it came to pursuing some sort of refinement, he no longer had the peace of mind for it.

"Do your two pets need anything prepared to eat?" Linda asked.

"You are very kind, but no need."

"My husband is taking a nap at the moment, I will go upstairs to wake him so you two can speak, I am sorry, it might take a little while."

"Very well, Madam."

Linda walked upstairs.

Karen then stood up to wander around the living room, above the fireplace hung a large oil painting depicting Linda and Piaget.

In addition, he spotted several photo frames on a small side table, which were also travel photographs of the couple, judging by the backdrops, the two had visited many countries.

"The two of them really look alike as a couple, quite a good match."

Furthermore, the Adams family was truly wealthy; although it was similarly a detached villa, the price of this one had to be twice that of the Inmeles home, after all, this area belonged to the true district of the rich in Luojia City.

"Linda, Linda?"

A shout came from outside, the voice sounding somewhat familiar.

Karen stepped out of the living room and saw Mrs. Seymour standing outside the courtyard gate.

"Oh, heavens."

Seeing Karen, Mrs. Seymour's face instantly flushed crimson, and she covered her mouth.

She had completely lost control of her emotions yesterday, so she had done many impulsive things; she didn't particularly mind the expensive package for her husband's funeral or riding in a hearse to shop at luxury stores, for although she lived simply, her family was actually quite affluent, and after her husband's passing, she became the sole heir to his estate—she had money.

What made her feel extremely embarrassed as she lay in bed after returning home last night was,

She had actually demanded that the young lad sleep with her,

Oh heavens,

Was I mad!

She had spent the entire latter half of the night in shameful self-reproach, only managing to fall asleep as dawn was breaking.

As it turned out, in her dream she really did do it with that handsome lad.

Upon waking,

She first slapped herself twice,

And then she smiled.

Yet who would have thought that at this moment she would see that lad again at her neighbor's house.

"Good day, Mrs. Seymour," Karen greeted her proactively.

"Mr. Karen, I didn't expect you to be here as well, oh, I forgot, last night you mentioned you and Mr. Adams were friends."

"Yes, I came to visit him today."

"I originally came over wanting to consult Linda about how to handle my husband's effects at home, I wish to donate those clothes and shoes to a charity."

"You are truly kind."

"Since there is a guest at the house, I shall head back first."

When a guest comes to the house, the hostess certainly needs to entertain them.

"Oh, right, Mr. Karen, could you come over to my house in a little while?"

Karen did not show the slightest hint of resistance,

Because to a lady, no, to a woman, that would be an immense cruelty and rudeness.

At the same time, he also understood that Mrs. Seymour, having cleared her head, would not do anything inappropriate again, not to mention she was still a major client of the house.

"Of course, I would be delighted to visit you."

Mrs. Seymour smiled and said, "My husband had a watch, I feel it suits your temperament very well, I would like to give it to you, I noticed you don't have a wristwatch on your wrist."

In fact, Mrs. Hughes had already given him one.

But due to his habits from his past life, Karen actually disliked wearing watches, and he didn't go out very much anyway.

"Then I shall come over in a while to admire that watch."

"Alright."

Mrs. Seymour smiled and departed.

Karen walked back into the living room, just in time to see Piaget coming down the stairs, his eyes heavy with sleep and his hair in disarray.

"Oh, Karen, your presence is an absolute honor."

Piaget descended the staircase, opening his arms wide to offer Karen a grand embrace.

Then,

He cast a glance toward the coffee resting upon the dining table,

And spoke with an air of embarrassment:

"I am terribly sorry; you arrive only to find yourself brewing your own coffee."

"Your wife was kind enough to make it for me," Karen said.

"My wife? Who?" Confusion shadowed Piaget's face. "Good heavens, Karen, Linda is gone. Have you forgotten? It was you who delivered her urn into my hands."

Those words, Karen thought, are precisely what I should be saying to you!

"So, do you imagine I simply unlocked the courtyard gate myself and strolled into your home?"

"Well, how else?" Piaget smiled. "I rarely make a habit of locking doors. The security in this neighborhood is exceptional; the chief of police lives just across the street.

You are my friend. Though we have met but once, I have already deemed you a friend. Is it not entirely natural for a friend to unlock the door, enter my home, and brew himself a cup of coffee?

It proves that you, Karen, regard me as a true friend as well, unburdened by mere formalities, does it not?"

"Piaget."

"Yes?"

"I must remind you that it was indeed Linda who just opened the door for me, and it was Linda who made my coffee. Afterward, she went upstairs to awaken you from your afternoon nap."

"Have you lost your mind?"

Piaget examined Karen’s eyes intently, asking with genuine concern, "Has something occurred recently to disturb your mind?"

"Yes, and it concerns you."

"Let us sit and talk." Piaget took a seat, reached for a pastry, and took a bite.

Karen sat down as well, his eyes sweeping over Purr, who lay curled upon the sofa. Outside in the courtyard, that golden retriever was joyfully chasing butterflies.

Karen swore to himself that he would never bring that foolish hound out with him again.

Karen spoke up: "Your wife has passed away."

"I am well aware of that."

"Yet Mrs. Seymour next door claims that just yesterday morning, she received an apple pie hand-delivered by your wife."

"How could that possibly be!"

"It is the truth. Moreover, I distinctively saw Linda myself just moments ago."

"You are all mad. Linda is gone. I held her ashes in my own hands and laid her to rest."

Piaget pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Karen, which Karen accepted.

Then,

Piaget produced a lighter, sparking a flame for them both.

After a brief moment of swirling smoke,

Piaget suddenly ran his fingers forcefully through his hair,

Laughing softly:

"To tell you the truth, I feel a bit mad myself;

For lately, I constantly harbor the sensation that Linda never truly left, that she remains by my side, tending to me. Yet I suppose it is merely because I grew so accustomed to her presence, and, in truth, I rather enjoy the feeling."

"Would you mind if I went upstairs to look around?" Karen inquired.

"Not at all. Come, let me show you."

Piaget guided Karen up the staircase.

In truth, genuine wealth reveals itself not merely in the price of a house, but more often in its interior design.

Karen noted the intricate wood carvings beneath the stair railing, then glanced at the adornments gracing the walls and ceiling; he suspected the cost of the renovations far exceeded the value of the property itself.

"The second floor houses my bedroom, my study, and my wife's studio. She was a painter, you know, and once held a solo exhibition in the city of Rodia.

This, here, is my study."

Karen stepped inside and took a turn about the room.

Though understated and restrained, any observer with half a mind could sense that the "value" of this study vastly surpassed that of Dis's.

After completing his circuit, Karen stepped back outside.

"And this is my wife's studio."

Inside the studio, many of the canvases were concealed beneath drapes.

"May I admire some of your wife's artwork?"

"Of course, as you please."

Karen unveiled the shroud from the first painting,

Within the frame,

The composition split into two distinct realms;

Below lay a wasteland of withered bones and ruin, where a naked man reposed upon the earth, facing upward toward the sky.

Above, the grass grew lush and green, where a gathering of men and women danced about a bonfire, their faces radiant with joyous smiles.

Upon beholding this piece, Karen caught his breath instinctively:

"The Cult of Berry?"

"Indeed, Karen. Are you well-versed in theology as well?" Piaget inquired with a smile. "My wife favored religious themes above all else, and painted them with the greatest skill. In the lore of Berry, this piece is titled 'The Divine Veil.'

The true god worshiped by the Cult of Berry cast himself into eternal exile within the dark and lonely void, thereby purchasing freedom and romance in heaven for his followers."

Karen nodded silently,

And uncovered the drape from the second painting;

This canvas likewise featured a double composition, though arranged horizontally.

On the left, a man sang hymns within paradise; on the right, a man of identical countenance shrieked amidst the skeletal mountains of hell.

Between them ran a dark, horizontal river, its waters lapping at the feet of both identical men.

"The Church of the Abyss," Karen murmured.

"Yes, the God of the Abyss, who severed his own form in two, sending one half into heaven and the other into hell, ultimately carving out the abyss between the two realms. Very few in Rulan are even aware of this sect's existence."

Two now. Already, there were two.

Karen extended his hand toward the shroud of the third painting in the sequence,

But just as his fingers were about to brush the fabric, he paused.

Was this a mere coincidence?

It could no longer be explained away as coincidence.

And he had a premonition—that this third painting might correspond to the next victim, which was to say... the next work of art.

While Karen hesitated, Piaget obligingly drew back the curtain for him.

Inside,

was a woman,

her body seemingly falling into a bloody, gaping maw, and with this descent, her body also began to wrench apart.

Looking closely, one could discern in the details the tearing away of the woman's joints and lines etched with ultimate precision.

"What is this?" Karen asked. "Which church?"

"The Church of Order," Piaget said. "A rare occasion where there is something you do not know, haha."

"The Church of Order?"

"Yes, the Church of Order is a widespread church. They worship the God of Order and advocate that all things in the world must operate according to order; they are the guardians of order.

And this one is the daughter of the God of Order, her name is Ankara.

Legend has it that after the God of Order established the rules of order, the very first to transgress was his daughter, Ankara.

To practice the laws of order,

the God of Order showed no favoritism and punished his daughter, casting her into the mouth of a ferocious beast, allowing her body and soul to be entirely annihilated.

Her death

also ignited the light of order.

This signifies that order and law stand above humanity, above emotion."

"So that is how it is." Karen suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

Because in his mind, he had already envisioned the killer facing the next victim, lifting a knife, and beginning to chop ribs; at the same time, the thumping sound of cleaving ribs echoed in his ears.

"Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Fragments of bone and bits of flesh began to splatter.

A wave of nausea washed over him with it.

"Are you unwell?" Piaget asked with concern, reaching out to support Karen's arm.

Karen shoved him away at once,

"Do not touch me."

Then, Karen began to gasp heavily for breath;

after a long while,

he said apologetically:

"I am sorry, my heart has always given me some trouble, sometimes it spasms out of nowhere."

"This is an issue that cannot be ignored. Linda had heart disease too, and her passing was also related to heart problems. Karen, please take my advice, you should go to a proper hospital for a checkup and get serious treatment.

Or, you could simply go to Wien, where the large hospitals are of the highest standard."

"I know, thank you."

Karen walked out of the studio, and Piaget, worried about him, followed by his side.

As they passed the bedroom, Piaget spoke up: "Would you like to lie down here and rest for a while?"

"No need, thank you."

Though his mouth said no need, Karen still cast a few glances into the bedroom.

Yet it was precisely those few glances

that made him spot something.

"What is that?" Karen asked.

"Which one?"

"Under the bed, the pink thing."

Piaget walked over, bent down, and reached under the bed, pulling out a piece of pink clothing, then continued to grope around inside, dragging out shoes and socks.

"This... this is Linda's clothing, how could it be under the bed?" Piaget said in disbelief, "How is it possible... how can it be..."

"Piaget, the one who just brewed coffee for me, was it actually you?"

"I... I brewed the coffee for you?" Piaget pointed at himself.

"You disguised yourself as your wife," Karen said.

"I disguised myself as my wife?" Piaget's chest began to heave, and just as Karen thought some physical mishap was about to occur, he leaned against the bedside somewhat dejectedly and sat down. "Karen, I think something must be wrong with my psyche. I do not remember those things, but this clothing still holds a lingering warmth.

I think I must have a split personality. Within my consciousness, I split off a Linda; when I am asleep, Linda wakes up, and when I wake up, Linda goes to sleep."

"Your makeup skills are truly excellent," Karen remarked with sigh.

Previously, he really had not seen through it, that Linda was Piaget in disguise.

Of course, this was also because the husband and wife looked so remarkably alike to begin with, making the disguise very convenient.

"I studied ballet," Piaget smiled bitterly. "For university performances, one needed to do their own makeup."

"Oh." Karen nodded.

"I am sorry to have frightened you."

"No, not at all."

Piaget lifted his head, looking up at the chandelier on the bedroom ceiling,

reached out,

and touched his own chest:

"In truth, it was I who willingly let Linda live in my heart, and it was you, Karen, who helped me make up my mind to try and split off a second personality. Thank you, Karen."

You do not blame me?

"You're... you're welcome."

As long as you do not blame me, I actually felt quite a bit of guilt.

Piaget reached up to ruffle his already fluffy hair,

and said:

"I am so sorry, Karen, I would like to be alone for a while. There is a wine cellar in the basement, you can go down and have a drink yourself."

"No need, I will come see you another day. I am sorry to have disturbed you."

"No, you did not, it was a pleasure to see you, truly."

"Likewise."

Perhaps because both of them worked in psychology, "talking things out" and "acceptance" were remarkably simple, devoid of any convoluted complications.

"Meow..."

At some point, Pu'er had also made her way to the second floor, resting right at Karen's feet, seemingly peering into the bedroom with an air of profound curiosity.

Karen took one last glance at Piaget, picked up Pu'er, and walked down the stairs.

As he stepped into the courtyard, the golden retriever trotted eagerly after him.

He pushed open the courtyard gate, walked out, and closed it behind him.

Lifting his gaze, he looked toward the second floor, directly where the studio window stood.

"A second personality he actively chose to splinter off himself."

Sighing softly,

Karen walked over to the neighboring house of Mrs. Seymour, and before he could press the doorbell, Mrs. Seymour, who had been waiting in the foyer, already stepped out, asking warmly:

"Are Mr. Adams and Linda doing well?"

"He is doing very well."

...

The second floor, the bedroom.

Piaget kept his eyes closed, tears tracing a gentle, quiet path from the corners of his eyes.

Linda,

My Linda,

I do not want to lose you, nor will I ever lose you, no matter what, I will keep you by my side.

For your sake,

I am willing to deceive myself.

Just then,

The drawer of the vanity mirror directly facing the bed slowly slid open, and from within, a stack of flesh-colored clothing gradually stood upright.

It spilled out of the drawer, crept onto the floor, and crept right to Piaget's side.

Following that,

It began to rise; it was unimaginably thin, and its form bore distinct crease marks, like... a sheet of paper, a sheet of flesh-colored paper;

Yet at this moment, she gradually unfolded into a human silhouette, though this silhouette was far too faint, completely lacking any sense of three-dimensional depth.

She reached out her hand,

Gently covering Piaget's forehead,

And then,

She began to press herself closer into Piaget,

To be precise,

Melting into him.

Like milk poured into coffee, in an exquisitely gentle manner, transforming into another color.

Piaget's features,

Were gradually shifting into... Linda.

After a long while,

Linda (Piaget) opened her eyes,

She wrapped her arms around herself,

Murmuring:

"My dear, I will never leave you either."

----

I have some things to attend to tonight, so I cannot type; that is all for tonight, no need to wait up.

In truth, I only had six chapters hoarded before launching the book, and they were used up long ago.

If you ask me why I didn't hoard more chapters beforehand, it is because without all of you, I lack the creative atmosphere; I enjoy the joy of posting a finished chapter immediately to share it with you.

Lastly,

During this new book period, I humbly ask for everyone's recommendation votes and monthly votes; our position on the new book chart is far too low, we are only in first place.