C2 Last Dinner(1)

It was as if he were in a turbid state, his body dragged up by a soft substance, like a cloud, but it smelled a little fishy at the same time.

Chung Jingchen opened his eyes and slowly regained his clarity.

His slender hands wanted to grab the thing that wrapped around him, but they passed through it directly. It was as if the thing that dragged him was just an illusion.

The black thing was still dripping with liquid. Chung Jingchen touched it with his finger, but it did not touch his hand.

He sighed and closed his eyes again.

He felt a jolt and started to descend. He got up and jumped down from the black cloud. For now, he would call it the black cloud. After all, he didn't know what it was.

It was a long corridor that seemed to have no end. It extended all the way.

Footsteps kept echoing.

There were oil paintings hanging on both sides of the corridor. Chung Jingchen put his hands in his pockets and started to look at the paintings.

Not long ago, he was found to be in the advanced stage of stomach cancer. He should have waited for the world to go far away. However, this place often appeared in his dreams. A mechanical voice asked him if he wanted to live or not.

Of course, although life was not good, Chung Jingchen still did not want to die young. So he followed the instructions in his dreams and went to the hospital again.

He specially picked a very late time and happened to be called away for something.

He had wanted to bring his boyfriend along to spend the unknown with him. Who knew that the thing had not taken him seriously long ago. It said that it would never come back after getting some cold medicine.

Chung Jingchen stopped under a painting.

It was an oil painting that had appeared in history books.

"Last Supper.

The following words were carefully engraved with iron plates.

"Last Supper" was created by the Italian artist, Leonardo da Vinci, with the theme of "The Last Supper" between Jesus and the Twelve Disciples.

The disciples on the screen had different expressions on their faces. The twelve disciples sat on either side of Jesus, and Jesus sat in the middle alone. His face was reflected by the bright window behind him.

"Traitor Judas..." Chung Jingchen focused his eyes on Judas and revealed a thoughtful expression.

He was very interested in what would happen after the painting.

There were elements in his body that were shouting, causing his blood to boil.

His long black bangs and eyes seemed to be about to merge into one.

He looked around the painting. Other than the iron plate hanging on it, there was nothing else.

Chung Jingchen put his hand on the iron plate and slowly took it down. He tried his best not to make a loud noise or make any noise.

There was no fear at all. In his eyes, this kind of thing was not as terrifying as darkness.

After the iron plate was taken off, the painting began to blur. There was water mist piled up on the frame, covering the original face.

Chung Jingchen put the iron plate in his pocket. It might be useful at some point, but it was better to hold it, even though it was a little troublesome.

He reached his hand toward the painting, and a suction force guided him forward.

He raised his eyebrows and did not hesitate anymore. He plunged his head into the painting.

The strong wind made him unable to open his eyes. Chung Jingchen curled himself into a ball, silently waiting for the wind to stop.

When there was no wind to torture his exposed skin, he let go.

Subconsciously, he grabbed to the side and touched mud and grass.

He did not care. He casually wiped his clothes and got up.

His whole body was a little sore.

Chung Jingchen moved his wrists and neck and looked at the tall building in front of him.

In the western ancient castle, the sky was dark. Buried in the shadow of the castle, it did not look magnificent. Instead, it was dark and gloomy, making people feel uncomfortable.