"So you believe the Death Portrait was an attack method of the ghost, and that ghost was outside the villa?"
Based on the clues available, at least from Xie Zheng's account, that was the conclusion Mei Sheng reached.
Xie Zheng had ample evidence for his belief. He laboriously raised his right hand and waved the wound around his joints as he said:
"When the sound of writing began, I realized something was wrong and tried to escape. I never turned to look at the window.
But the attack had already begun.
My limbs felt as if they had been struck by bullets, then drilled through by some kind of electric drill.
At the critical moment, I crawled back to the window with my face covered, pulled the curtains shut, and then passed out."
That was Xie Zheng's entire experience, from encountering danger to escaping it. Clearly, what he did had worked and kept him from dying.
This experience also seemed to confirm his theory.
"A ghost has been observing us from outside the villa, like a painter memorizing the characteristics of its subject.
It is very quiet and never exposes itself to our sight.
As time passes, more and more of our traits are revealed to it, until it has enough to paint a Death Portrait.
When that happens, it will be our time to die."
As she listened to Xie Zheng's confident explanation, Mei Sheng silently continued analyzing.
If his description was accurate, then there did not seem to be any flaw in his theory. After all, the fact that he had survived already proved that it held some weight.
Mei Sheng fixed her gaze on the thick curtains, as if she could see a ghost silently watching her from behind them.
After a long while, she said softly: