Journey of Lies

In the dimly lit room, they moved with utmost care, even their breathing became shallow.

The air conditioning was at a comfortable temperature. I lay on the bed with a thin blanket covering my back as the masseuse skillfully massaged my calves.

The two technicians moved almost in sync, massaging for half an hour before turning over in unison.

The warm eye mask pressed gently against his eyes, and Jiang Xia felt a little sleepy.

I fell asleep without realizing it, and when I woke up again, I was gently patted on the shoulder to wake me up.

"Ms., it's finished."

Jiang Xia regained his senses and propped himself up. Although he had only slept for a little over an hour, he felt light and refreshed.

The technician brought over a fresh cup of hot tea. Jiang Xia took a small sip and felt a refreshing sensation, like the aftertaste of a nap. The ginger tea had a distinctive lemongrass aroma.

Jiang Xia didn't see Sheng Zhi in the room, so she guessed he must have gone downstairs first.

After waking up, Jiang Xia changed her clothes and went downstairs, only to find that Sheng Zhi had already settled the order.

"It's better if we split the bill, otherwise you'll be the one paying, which isn't fair," Jiang Xia suggested.

Sheng Zhi laughed at her: "Why are you calculating so clearly? I thought we were friends, even sworn brothers."

The earthquake in Bangkok did change her opinion of Sheng Zhi; otherwise, she wouldn't have let him chase her all the way to Chiang Mai.

"You came to Chiang Mai, isn't there anything else?"

"If I said I came for you, would you be moved?" Sheng Zhi put the helmet on her.

Jiang Xia couldn't tell which of his words were true and which were false.

On their way home, the two stopped at a nearby shopping mall to buy some necessities.

Seeing that Jiang Xia even needed to buy a cup, she couldn't help but wonder, "Doesn't your husband live here long-term? Doesn't he have a cup?"

"I only know about one cup in the whole house. It looks like a free gift when I bought something. I'm worried it won't withstand the heat, so I still want to buy a mug to use."

Actually, she was also puzzled. Xu Xiujie liked to use cups he made himself at home in China. They were made of clay and engraved with his name.

Xu Xiujie had made many of these cups, and Jiang Xia clearly remembered that he took some with him.

But in the past two days, she searched through all the cabinets in the kitchen and still couldn't find a decent cup.

"Let's buy a couple more," Sheng Zhi said casually, taking a set of glasses from the shelf. "We'll always have customers, like me."

Jiang Xia pursed her lips and didn't put the cup back.

They bought a large bag of household supplies and returned home laden with their purchases. By now, it was getting dark and the temperature had dropped.

Jiang Xia sat on the back of the motorcycle, enjoying the evening breeze on her face. She held down her skirt and wrapped one arm around Sheng Zhi's waist, no longer feeling the awkwardness of the previous times.

"Oh no!"

Hearing Sheng Zhi speaking from the front, Jiang Xia peeked out and asked, "What's wrong?"

"There are traffic police."

As he spoke, Sheng Zhi turned around and entered a narrow alley.

"What's wrong with the traffic police? Why are they running?"

"I don't have a driver's license."

"you……"

Without time to explain, Jiang Xia could only hold him tightly, and only after walking through several alleys did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Upon arriving home, Jiang Xia didn't even bother to take off his helmet. He first carried all the bags into his room before thanking Sheng Zhidao.

"Thank you for spending the whole day with me."

"How long do you plan to stay in Chiang Mai?" Sheng Zhi asked casually.

"Tomorrow Jiayi will take me to see a real estate agent. I hope we can sell it as soon as possible so I can go back to China."

Sheng Zhi nodded thoughtfully, and after saying goodnight to each other, he rode away on his bicycle.

Jiangxia locked the door and went upstairs, feeling a heavy head and a slight soreness in her neck.

Upon entering the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, still wearing my helmet, and couldn't help but chuckle.

After taking a hot shower, Jiang Xia felt thirsty and went downstairs to wash the new cups she had just bought.

Jiang Xia poured himself a glass of warm water and looked at the empty living room, feeling that something was missing.

She strolled to the white wall at the front of the living room and, by the moonlight streaming through the French windows, noticed several dented patches on the wall.

Jiang Xia raised his hand to touch it. It must have been nailed when the painting was hung and then repaired.

Suddenly, Jiang Xia tilted his head as if he had just realized something: there wasn't a single finished painting in the entire house?

This is not Xu Xiujie's style. He appreciates his own work and, regardless of the period, he will hang his most satisfying paintings in his home.

Even new homes in China have long displayed his early works.

Jiang Xia put down her water glass and jogged upstairs.

She pushed open the door to the room on the second floor next to the stairs. It was a converted walk-in closet. She had come in and looked at it when she first arrived. It contained some art supplies and handicrafts.

Upon entering the attic, it's clear that this was once Xu Xiujie's temporary studio, with an empty easel beneath the skylight.

A row of low cabinets stood in the attic, with a few picture frames lying face down. Jiang Xia went over to check and found that all the frames were blank.

Jiang Xia was filled with doubt and checked the entire three-story building from top to bottom.

There wasn't a single painting in the house, not even a draft.

Jiang Xia sat down on the edge of the bed, trying his best to recall.

On the day Xu Xiujie returned to China, she drove to the airport to pick him up. On the way back, he was still as taciturn as ever, but he repeatedly mentioned the matter of selling the house, including giving away all the furniture and emphasizing that the paintings should be shipped back to China by sea.

Based on my understanding of Xu Xiujie, at least several dozen paintings remain here after the years, excluding those that have been sold.

Where did those paintings go?