Wine and Gun

"Yes, it's Artemisia," Albarino repeated briskly, his eyes gleaming, as if pleased that Herstal recognized which painter's masterpiece the picture on paper was from. "That's my plan - my plan for them."

His eyes swept quickly and sharply across the ground, the stump of Anthony Sharp lying at his feet, the blood dripping, and the pale Billy: covered bleak and solitary by a cloth—these two This is clearly the heart of what Albarino calls the "plan". Of course Albarino didn't care why Billy died or how his body was exposed to their gaze, he was probably just thinking about Herstal's feelings.

"But why this subject?" asked Herstal, looking at each other, "You don't usually choose the picture you want to present because of what the dead did - you don't care about the life and the past of the dead, they are just a A tool to showcase your designs. So why did you choose Artemisia?”

The smile at the corner of Albarino's mouth seemed a little wider, as if the skull on his lap didn't make the scene more eerie. At this moment, Herstal suddenly expected the answer he was going to give.

"because of you."

Albarino Bacchus said.

"As I said before - this is a gift from the Sunday gardener for you."

His words rained into silence, and Herstal stared at him, as if trying to find some dishonesty in his eyes. Albarino's eyes were green like ghosts dancing between the tombs under the light, and he still smiled calmly, as if he had the confidence to accept the baptism of any question from the other party.

"Then," whispered Herstal, "is this also the result of divine possession?"

Albarino gave a soft hum at the question, a syllable that sounded almost forgiving. He replied softly, "I am attached to a gray ghost from the past."

He lowered his head and dragged another knife across the ground, making a rough, loud noise as the blade scraped against the ground. It was like a wake-up call, awakening the silent darkness, and making Herstal realize that this was an opportunity, and he had to ask something now, or he would never have the chance to ask again.

Either the night was vulnerable, or they were in a private moment where Albarino revealed himself to him, which was when he was most likely to get an answer.

"Then," said Herstal in a low voice, cautiously, "where did your inspiration come from?"

—Albarino certainly knew what he really wanted to ask: they were not talking about the gardener’s previous work, nor about what Sharp would end up looking like, nor about a Roman female painter.

They were talking about the grey specter behind Albarino, who the other had just admitted was the source of his inspiration - the beginning of everything, the origin of the Sunday gardener.

Albarino still faced Herstal, but his eyes did not seem to fall on him, but in a farther, unknowable direction, he tilted his head to one side, as if in deep thought similar.

Then he said, "I know you've investigated me, so you must have heard of my mother: she's a surgeon."

Albarino's mother was less medically adept than his father, and so was relatively rare in the public eye. But based on what Albarino had said earlier and Herstal's own research, he knew enough: it was a beautiful, exotic woman born in Spain who fell in love with a woman from the United States. Surgeon, married to Westland for the other party, and died in a drowning accident at the age of seventeen.

"She's not just a surgeon," Albarino said softly, "she's an 'angel of death.'"

Note:

[1] The bold font is from Andersen's "Su Qi".

[2] "Krina, the Nymph of Dagger" by the English painter Frederick Leighton.

[3] The Penitent Magdalene by French painter Georges de Latour.

[4] Artemisia:

Refers to Artemisia Gentileschi, the daughter of the Roman painter Orazio Gentileschi, who was taken by the painter Tassi qiángjian at the age of seventeen. In order to save his daughter's reputation, Orazio filed a lawsuit to the court; when Orazio stated in court the fact that his daughter had been killed many times, he was spurned and ridiculed by the public.

At the age of 22, Artemisia, with the support of art patron Medici, entered the Florence Academy of Art to study anatomy and composition, becoming the first female member of the art academy founded by Vasari.

[5] Angel of Death: Sometimes this term is used to refer to a doctor serial killer who specializes in murdering patients.

Chapter 45 Dionysus in the Tomb 03

"I don't understand," said Albarino.

——They sat on the bow of the boat, the golden sunlight shattered into dazzling fragments on the water, and the depths of the lake were filled with rǔ white mist. Shana Bacchus sat there, one hand covering the oars, with a rather mild smile on her face.

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