Chapter 6 — The Muse of the Underworld and the Brainless Husband

Luc Minh was chased out by me like a bereaved dog. His belongings were scattered everywhere, and the painting "Dance of Death" painted by Lam So was stepped on with a huge footprint. Neighbors heard the commotion and opened their doors one by one to take a look.

"Isn't this Mr. Luc? Why was he thrown out?"

“I heard that he raised a third child outside, and even gave a life-giving shirt to someone else's old lady, what a disgraceful act!”

"Phew! Worth it!"

Luc Minh went crazy in the hallway, pointed at me and cursed me as an evil woman. I immediately slammed the anti-theft door. The dog just barks, it's okay if you don't hear it. The divorce went very smoothly. Because Luc Minh did not want to incur more debt, he could only grit his teeth and sign. But his and Lam So's nightmare has only just begun. I have absolutely no intention of letting them go. I want to make them completely out of place in this industry, in this society. Late at night, I opened my computer and logged into a famous forum in the design world. I used an anonymous account and posted a long article.

“Revealing the true face of the empty aesthetic artist.”

In the article, I posted Lam So's entire design for the "spiritual life party". Next, I posted a collection of works by a famous overseas funeral designer from five years ago. Identical.

“The so-called creation is nothing more than a copy that has been Chineseized.”

“The so-called avant-garde art is nothing more than converting a foreign funeral to a domestic celebration of life.”

The article is quickly pushed to the featured section. Lam So's crazy fans, who were still stubbornly defending him, immediately broke down.

"Plagiarism? What about funeral plagiarism?"

"I vomited. Before, I thought she had an idea, but it turned out it was just a plague!"

"This type of person is also worthy of being called an artist? This is a fraud!"

The image of a "high-class intellectual female artist" that Lam So worked hard to build for many years, collapsed overnight. She became a "plagiarized funeral sister" who was laughed at online. Losing his reputation and no longer having Luc Minh to support him, Lam So quickly fell into despair. As for Luc Minh, it's even worse. Penniless, car lost, watch lost, job gone. He wandered the streets for two days, the more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and finally rushed to Lam So's rented room.

“Bitch! Pay!”

Luc Minh kicked the door open and rushed in, intending to rob Lam So of the few remaining jewelry.

"This is mine! You poor bastard get out!"

Lam So screamed in resistance, his nails scratching Luc Minh's face with streaks of blood.

"So poor? I became like this because of you!"

Luc Minh went completely crazy. He remembers the supercar, the lost mansion, and the prosperous life he had before. Evil thoughts emerged, he grabbed a plaster statue next to him, and slammed it down on Lam So's hand.

“Ah!!!”

A mournful scream echoed throughout the building. That is the right hand that Lam So is always proud of, the hand she uses to paint. The sound of bones breaking was tooth-aching.

“My arm! My arm is broken!”

The two people rushed to fight, the scene was bloody. Neighbors called the police, and the police quickly arrived at the scene. Because the fight caused injuries, and serious injuries, both were handcuffed and stuffed into a police car. Looking at the police car driving away with sirens, I stood there far away, quietly deleting all data on the computer. Art truly requires sacrifice. See, aren't they all already inside? Half a year later. My high-end event planning company officially opened. On the day of the ribbon cutting, Trieu Trieu personally came to congratulate him and announced on the spot that all of the Trieu family's banquets for the next ten years would be assigned to me exclusively in charge. That day, the hall was covered with red carpet and bright flowers. I wore an elegant red suit, stood under the stage lights, and received everyone's applause. That is true red, respect earned through strength. After the party ended, I drove the newly purchased supercar home. At a traffic light intersection, I saw a familiar figure. Luc Minh. He wore a food delivery uniform, rode an old electric vehicle, stopped on the side of the road to eat dumplings. He was skinny, his face was full of whiskers, his eyes were dull and dull. Seeing my car, he was stunned. He instinctively wanted to rush forward, as if he wanted to call my name.

“Sister…”

The green light turns on. I stepped on the accelerator, the supercar roared past, and muddy water splashed all over his body. In the rearview mirror, I saw him fall to the ground in a daze. As for Lam So, it is said that her right hand is completely disabled and can never hold a brush again. After going out, to make a living, she could only paint pictures for the dead. That is the aesthetic of death that she admires most. Unfortunately, because her aesthetic is too "underworld" and her portrait looks like a devil demanding her life, even the funeral shop owner doesn't dare to hire her. The last I heard about her was under the overpass. She set up a fortune-telling booth for people, muttering words like "return to nothing" and "restart". Passersby all considered her crazy and could not stay away in time. I withdrew my thoughts and stopped the car by the riverbank. Looking at the lights of every house in the distance, the fire and smoke of the human world glowing red. I took out my phone and permanently deleted the photo of the funeral party. There are some types of trash that should stay in the trash forever. I stood in front of the river wind and suddenly realized something. Art can be picky about people, but it can't be strange. As a human being, you can be passionate, but you can't be blind. In this life, the red color I want is a vibrant and prosperous red color. As for that dreary white color, just leave it for them, in prison and the rest of their lives, to slowly enjoy. RUN OUT OF