Darling

"Yes, my husband made a special trip yesterday to visit a friend. Unfortunately, that friend wasn't home. I assume that was you?"

"Yes, ma'am. You can call me Kallen."

"Please come in."

Linda opened the gate and invited Kallen inside.

Kallen handed Linda the elegantly packaged box of macarons.

He had deliberately chosen the pastry shop's finest offering, at 500 Lu Coins a box.

The clerk had also thrown in some little cakes, which Kallen had given to the driver, regardless of whether it really was his birthday. Kallen simply disliked overly sweet food.

Spending 500 Lu Coins on a box of pastries was certainly extravagant, but since he was visiting a wealthy household, his gift couldn't look too shabby;

He couldn't very well turn up carrying a big bag of sponge cakes that cost 50 Lu Coins.

After all, the man had paid him a consultation fee of 20,000 Lu Coins.

"You're far too kind. You didn't need to bring a gift."

"It was only right."

"Mr. Kallen, did you meet my husband while fishing? Are you fishing buddies?"

I met your husband while we were cremating you.

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

"I see."

Linda led Kallen into the living room;

"Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee." After a pause, Kallen added, "With extra sugar."

"Of course. Just a moment."

Before long, Linda brought him coffee and a plate of pastries.

Kallen took a sip of coffee,

And his brow furrowed slightly at the bitterness.

He really wanted to ask whether she had actually added sugar.

Because of his dietary habits, Kallen had never felt any particular attachment to coffee. When he was young in his previous life, struggling to build his career, he had used coffee to keep himself awake. Later, when his circumstances improved and he could afford better things, he had tried quite a few nicer coffees, but had never acquired a taste for them.

It was the same with tea. After getting used to brewing it in enormous mugs, he no longer had the inclination to pursue anything more refined.

"Would you like me to prepare something for your two pets?" Linda asked.

"That's very kind, but no, thank you."

"My husband is taking a nap. I'll go upstairs and wake him so you can talk. I'm sorry, it may take a little while."

"Of course, ma'am."

Linda went upstairs.

Kallen got up and wandered around the living room. A large oil painting of Linda and Piaget hung above the fireplace.

He also spotted several framed photographs on a small coffee table. They were travel pictures of the couple, and judging by the backgrounds, they had visited many countries.

"They even look alike. They make a good couple."

Besides, the Adams household really was wealthy. Both homes were detached villas, but this one must have cost twice as much as the Immerlis Family's. After all, this neighborhood was Rojia City's true wealthy district.

"Linda? Linda?"

Someone called from outside. The voice sounded familiar.

Kallen left the living room and saw Mrs. Seymour standing outside the gate.

"Oh, my goodness."

The moment Mrs. Seymour saw Kallen, her face flushed and she covered her mouth.

Her emotions had completely spiraled out of control yesterday, leading her to do many impulsive things. She hadn't given much thought to the expensive funeral package or riding a hearse to go shopping at luxury stores. Although she lived simply, her household was actually quite wealthy. After her husband's death, she had become the sole heir to his estate. She had money.

What had made her terribly embarrassed as she lay in bed last night was that,

She had actually asked that young man to sleep with her.

Good heavens,

Had I gone mad?

She had spent the entire latter half of the night reproaching herself in shame, only managing to fall asleep around dawn.

Then, in her dream, she really had done it with that handsome young man.

After waking,

She had slapped herself twice,

Then laughed.

Who would have thought she would run into that young man again at her neighbor's house?

"Hello, Mrs. Seymour," Kallen greeted her first.

"Mr. Kallen, I didn't expect to find you here. Oh, I forgot. Last night, you said you were friends with Mr. Adams."

"Yes, I came to visit him today."

"I came over to discuss what to do with my husband's belongings with Linda. I'd like to donate his clothes and shoes to charity."

"That's very kind of you."

"Since they have a guest, I'll head home for now."

When guests came over, the lady of the house naturally had to entertain them.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Kallen, could you stop by my house afterward?"

Kallen showed no sign of reluctance,

Because that would have been terribly cruel and rude to a married lady-no, to any woman.

At the same time, he knew Mrs. Seymour, who had regained her composure, wouldn't do anything inappropriate again. Besides, she was now a major client of his family's business.

"Of course. I'd be delighted to visit."

Mrs. Seymour smiled. "My husband had a watch that I think would suit you very well. I'd like to give it to you. I noticed you aren't wearing one."

Actually, Mrs. Hughes had already given him one.

But because of habits carried over from his previous life, Kallen didn't really like wearing watches. He didn't go out much, either.

"Then I'll come over later to admire it."

"All right."

Mrs. Seymour left with a smile.

Kallen returned to the living room just as Piaget came down the stairs, bleary-eyed and tousle-haired.

"Oh, Kallen, I'm truly honored to have you here."

Piaget descended the stairs, spread his arms, and gave Kallen a big hug.

Then,

He looked at the coffee on the table,

And said apologetically,

"I'm so sorry you had to make your own coffee when you came over."

"Your wife made it for me," Kallen said.

"My wife? Who?" Piaget looked puzzled. "Good heavens, Linda is gone. Have you forgotten, Kallen? You were the one who handed me her urn."

Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?

"So you think I opened the gate myself and walked into your house?"

"Yes. What else?" Piaget smiled. "I don't usually lock my doors. This neighborhood is very safe. The police chief lives right across the street.

"You're my friend. Although we've only met once, I've already decided you're my friend. So isn't it perfectly normal for a friend to let himself into my house and make himself a cup of coffee?

"It means you consider me a real friend too, Kallen, without standing on ceremony. Doesn't it?"

"Piaget."

"Yes?"

"I have to remind you that Linda really did open the gate for me just now. She made my coffee too, then went upstairs to wake you from your nap."

"Have you gone mad?"

Piaget studied Kallen's eyes carefully and asked with concern, "Has anything happened lately that might have affected your mental state?"

"Yes. What's happened with you."

"Let's sit down and talk." Piaget sat, picked up a pastry, and took a bite.

Kallen sat down too, glancing at Puer. She was lying on the sofa, while Golden Retriever was outside in the yard, happily chasing butterflies.

Kallen swore he would never take that stupid dog out again.

Kallen began, "Your wife has passed away."

"I know that."

"But Mrs. Seymour next door said your wife personally delivered an apple pie to her yesterday morning."

"That's impossible!"

"It's true. And I really did see Linda just now."

"You're all mad. Linda is gone. I held her ashes in my own hands and buried her."

Piaget took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Kallen, who accepted it.

Then,

Piaget used his lighter to light both their cigarettes.

After smoke had drifted around them for a while,

Piaget suddenly tugged hard at his hair,

And said with a smile,

"To tell you the truth, I feel as though I'm going a little mad too;

"Because lately, I keep feeling that Linda hasn't left, that she's still here beside me, taking care of me. But I think it may simply be because I'm used to her presence. And I really enjoy that feeling."

"Would you mind if I had a look upstairs?" Kallen asked.

"Not at all. Come, I'll show you around."

Piaget led Kallen up the stairs.

True wealth wasn't reflected only in the price of a house. Often, it showed in the interior decoration.

Kallen studied the finely carved wooden balusters beneath the stair rail, then the furnishings on the walls and overhead. He suspected the decor might have cost more than the house itself.

"The second floor has my bedroom and study, as well as my wife's studio. My wife was a painter. She once held a solo exhibition in Rojia City.

"This is my study."

Kallen went inside and looked around.

Although it was understated and restrained, anyone who wasn't a fool could sense the "price tag" of this study. It was far more expensive than Dis's.

After looking around, Kallen came back out.

"This is my wife's studio."

Inside the studio, many paintings were covered with cloths.

"May I admire your wife's paintings?"

"Of course. Help yourself."

Kallen lifted the cloth covering one painting.

The painting,

Was divided into two compositions;

Below lay a landscape of dry bones and desolation, with a naked man lying underground, faceup.

Above, lush grass flourished, and a group of men and women danced around a bonfire, their faces radiant with happy smiles.

At the sight of the painting, Kallen instinctively drew a breath:

"The Berry Church?"

"Yes, Kallen. Are you knowledgeable about religion as well?" Piaget asked with a smile. "My wife loved painting religious works most, and they were her specialty. In the Berry Church, this painting is called 'The Veil of God.'

"The true god worshipped by the Berry Church was eternally exiled into darkness and solitude, in exchange for his followers' freedom and romance in heaven."

Kallen nodded,

Then lifted the cloth from the second painting;

This painting also had two compositions, but they were arranged horizontally.

On the left, a man sang in heaven. On the right, an identical man howled amid a mountain of skeletons in hell.

A black river stretched horizontally through the middle, its waters reaching the feet of both identical men.

"The Abyss God Church," Kallen said.

"Yes. The Abyss God split his body in two, sending one half to heaven and the other to hell. Ultimately, he created the abyss between heaven and hell. Very few people in Ruilan actually know of this faith."

Two. That made two already.

Kallen reached for the cloth over the third painting in the sequence,

But stopped just before his hand touched it.

Was this a coincidence?

Coincidence could no longer explain it.

And he had a premonition that this third painting might correspond to the next victim-the next... work of art.

While Kallen hesitated, Piaget obligingly lifted the cloth for him.

Underneath,

Was a woman.

Her body seemed to be falling into a gaping, bloody maw, coming apart as she fell.

On closer inspection, the details revealed her body separating at every joint, along with exquisitely fine lines.

"What is this?" Kallen asked. "Which church does it belong to?"

"The Order Church," Piaget said. "It's rare to find one you don't know. Haha."

"The Order Church?"

"Yes, the Order Church is a very widespread church. They worship the God of Order and believe that everything in the world must operate according to order. They are the guardians of order.

And this is the daughter of the God of Order. Her name is Ankara.

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

To uphold the laws of order,

the God of Order showed no favoritism. He punished his daughter by casting her into the maw of a savage beast, annihilating both her body and her soul.

Her death

also kindled the light of order.

This means that order and law stand above human nature, above emotion."

"So that's how it is." Kallen suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

His mind had already conjured an image of the murderer facing his next victim, picking up a knife, and beginning to cut through ribs. At the same time, the sound of chopping ribs rang in his ears.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Bone fragments and bits of flesh began to fly.

A wave of nausea followed.

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

Kallen shoved him away.

"Don't touch me."

Then Kallen began to gasp for breath.

After a long while,

he said apologetically,

"I'm sorry. I've always had some trouble with my heart. Sometimes it spasms a little."

"That's not something you should ignore. Linda had heart disease too, and her passing was related to her heart trouble. Kallen, please take my advice. You should go to a good hospital for an examination and get proper treatment.

Or you could go straight to Vien. The major hospitals there are the best."

"I know. Thank you."

Kallen left the studio, and Piaget, worried about him, stayed at his side.

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

"No, thank you."

Despite declining, Kallen still glanced into the bedroom a few times.

And in those few glances,

he spotted something.

"What's that?" Kallen asked.

"What?"

"The pink thing under the bed."

Piaget walked over, bent down, and reached under the bed. He pulled out a pink piece of clothing, then felt around farther inside and dragged out shoes and socks.

"These... these are Linda's clothes. Why are they under the bed?" Piaget said in disbelief. "How could... how could this..."

"Piaget, were you actually the one who made me coffee just now?"

"I... I made you coffee?" Piaget pointed at himself.

"You dressed up as your wife," Kallen said.

"I dressed up as my wife?" Piaget's chest began to heave. Just as Kallen thought he might be about to suffer some physical emergency, he slumped against the edge of the bed and sat down. "Kallen, I think something must be wrong with me psychologically. I don't remember any of that, but these clothes are still warm.

I think I must have developed a split personality. I created a Linda within my consciousness. When I'm asleep, Linda wakes up. When I wake up, Linda goes to sleep."

"You're really good at makeup," Kallen remarked.

He genuinely hadn't realized earlier that Linda was Piaget in disguise.

Of course, that was also because the couple looked so much alike, making the impersonation easy.

"I studied ballet," Piaget said with a wry smile. "We had to do our own makeup for performances at university."

"Oh." Kallen nodded.

"I'm sorry I frightened you."

"No, not at all."

Piaget tilted his head back and looked at the chandelier on the bedroom ceiling.

He reached up

and touched his chest.

"Actually, I was the one who invited Linda to live in my heart. And you, Kallen, helped me make up my mind to try creating a second personality. Thank you, Kallen."

You don't blame me?

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

As long as you don't blame me. I was feeling pretty guilty.

Piaget reached up and rubbed his already tousled hair.

He said,

"I'm sorry, Kallen. I'd like to be alone for a while. There's a wine cellar in the basement. You can go down and help yourself to a drink."

"No, thank you. I'll come see you another day. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"No, you haven't. I'm very glad to see you. Truly."

"So am I."

Perhaps because they both worked in psychology, talking things through and accepting them came easily, without much of a complicated process.

"Meow..."

At some point, Puer had come upstairs too. She stood at Kallen's feet, seemingly staring into the bedroom with great curiosity.

Kallen took one last look at Piaget, picked up Puer, and went downstairs.

When he reached the yard, Golden Retriever eagerly trotted over after him.

He pushed open the gate, stepped outside, and closed it again.

He raised his head and looked toward the second floor, where the studio window was.

"A second personality he deliberately created himself?"

He sighed.

Kallen headed next door to Mrs. Seymour's house. Before he could ring the bell, Mrs. Seymour, who had been waiting in the entryway, came out and asked warmly,

"Are Mr. Adams and Linda doing well?"

"He's doing well."

Upstairs, in the bedroom.

Piaget sat with his eyes closed, tears gently trickling from their corners.

Linda.

My Linda.

I don't want to lose you, and I won't. No matter what, I'll keep you by my side.

For you,

I'm willing to deceive myself.

Just then,

a drawer in the dressing table facing the bed slowly opened. Inside, a folded pile of flesh-colored clothing slowly rose.

It spread out of the drawer, down onto the floor, and over to Piaget's side.

Then,

it began to stand upright. It was very, very thin, with clear fold marks across its surface, like... a sheet of paper, a flesh-colored sheet of paper.

But now, she gradually unfolded into a human shape, though that shape was far too thin, without the slightest sense of depth.

She reached out

and gently covered Piaget's forehead.

Then,

she began to press herself against Piaget.

More precisely,

she was merging into him.

Like milk poured into coffee, she blended in with the utmost gentleness, turning it a different color.

Piaget's face

was gradually becoming... Linda's.

After a long while,

Linda (Piaget) opened her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around herself

and murmured,

"Darling, I'll never leave you either."