"Me in the painting?" Chen Ge leaned closer too. He had seen all thirteen paintings in the Oil Painting Room and still remembered the fourth one. "Did you paint this?"
Zhou Tu said nothing. His soul seemed to have been drawn into the painting, his eyes fixed on the canvas.
The Fourth Oil Painting showed the Oil Painting Room itself.
In the upper half, thirteen painters sat in chairs, painting. In the lower half was a Blood-Red World, where the thirteen painters had met gruesome deaths in their seats, each in a different way.
What was worth noting was that the paintings on the artists' drawing boards in the upper half showed the exact manner of their deaths.
These painters already knew what fate awaited them, yet they hadn't chosen to change it. Instead, they had recorded everything exactly as it happened.
The first time Chen Ge had entered the Oil Painting Room, he had lingered beside this painting for a long time. He hadn't expected it to have been created by Zhou Tu.
A closer look revealed that the fourth painter in the painting looked a lot like Zhou Tu.
"The other paintings are all trying their hardest to depict the Inverted World. This is the only one that depicts the painters themselves." Chen Ge didn't disturb Zhou Tu. His gaze moved between the painting and Zhou Tu. "What did Zhou Tu go through? Why is his painting so different from the rest?"
Of the thirteen painters, Zhou Tu ranked fourth. He wasn't the most senior, but he had the most unique perspective.
Unlike the others when their memories returned, Zhou Tu stood motionless beside his easel. Nothing about him had changed, but the atmosphere in the Art Studio was subtly shifting.
It was impossible to describe the feeling.