Chapter 33. A Blind Artist
Hearing Lily's remark, Charles turned his gaze toward the direction she was pointing at.
A bustling town square could be seen at the end of the street, about dozens of meters ahead of them. It was crowded with people and there were also several street food stalls, and some resembled barbecues.
"Is this considered the food street of the Subterranean Seascape?" Charles walked toward the square. He bought a bag of cream-stewed oysters for Lily and entered the lively square.
It seemed to be the local marketplace with all sorts of delicious food and entertaining performances. Lily was overwhelmed by the sight.
Just when Charles unconsciously strolled to the edge of the square, a blind man with a disfigured face and sunglasses appeared before them. His face was marred by the fusion of flesh and skin; its appearance resembled some kind of burn injury. His horrifying visage stood out among the sea of handsome men and beautiful women.
A sign was placed at the blind man's feet. It wrote: Oil Painting, 100 Echo each.
Observing the tattered cloak on the blind man, Charles could roughly guess that his business was not doing well. But that was expected—after all, who would seek a blind painter?
The blind man cowered next to his painting easel. His pitiful figure was unfitting of the lively environment.
Just then, three young men, arms locked, walked to the side of the road and one of them kicked the easel, causing it to crash to the ground. The trio burst into boisterous laughter as they watched the blind man crouching over and desperately picking up his scattered belongings.
Charles noticed that everyone around was oblivious to what just transpired; they didn't even bother to spare a glance. He knit his brows. Not only are the locals strange, they are also incredibly indifferent.
Unable to bear the sight, the kind-hearted Lily led her group of mice over and helped the blind man with his art supplies.
Feeling someone had rendered him assistance, the disfigured blind man burst into tears. "Why!! Why am I so unfortunate!!"
Charles approached him and after pondering for a moment, he said, "Stop crying. Paint something for me."
With business knocking on the door, the blind man set aside his sorrow and wiped the tears and snot off his face before he stood up. "Sir, please take a seat here," the blind artist said as he clumsily retrieved a folding chair from behind his easel.
Curiosity bred in Charles' heart as he watched the blind man deftly mixing colors. How could a blind man paint when he couldn't even see?
Just when Charles was about to pop the questions, the blind man placed his palette down and reached out toward Charles' face with both hands.
Painting by touch? The thought surfaced in Charles' mind. The blind man then picked up his paintbrush and started drawing. This piqued Charles' interest even further. He was eager to witness the skills of this blind artist.
A few minutes later, the blind artist placed the paintbrush down and carefully removed the completed artwork from the easel. He then respectfully presented it before Charles.
Clank!
Startled, Charles kicked over the folding chair as he took three steps back. His right hand instinctively reached for the gun holstered at his waist.
It wasn't Charles that was depicted on the canvas, but rather, a lifelike portrait of Anna!
The sound of the folding chair crashing to the ground caught the attention of the blind artist. With a look of panic, he immediately reached out his hand to try to touch Charles.
"Sir, does it not look like you? Please don't go. I haven't eaten for three days. Please at least spare me some change. Show pity to this pitiful man."
With complicated emotions, Charles received the painting. He then took out a couple of hundred Echo notes and placed them into the hands of the blind artist.
Feeling the touch of the notes in his hand, a look of ecstasy appeared on the blind man's horrifying visage. He deeply bowed toward Charles and said, "Sir, thank you for showing compassion to a pitiful soul like me. May the Mother bless you."
"You have the ability to read minds?" Charles asked as he held the painting in his hand.
"Not really. It's just some useless ability that emerged after I became blind," the blind man humbly replied in a pacifying demeanor as he retreated back into the corner.
Charles' finger gently traced the outline of Anna's face on the painting, and the fictional memories started emerging in his mind.
"Gao Zhiming, I like you, can I be your girlfriend?"
"Gao Zhiming, stop playing games! I'm much more entertaining than any game."
"Don't worry, isn't it just a subterranean world? It's not a big deal. Together, we will definitely make our way back up!"
Charles' expression contorted as he tightened his grip on the edges of the painting, his veins bulging due to the force he exerted.
Lily hopped onto Charles' shoulder and asked, "Mr. Charles, who is this lady? She's so pretty."
Just as the man and mouse were engaged in conversation, the blind man lifted his chin and continuously sniffed the air.
Eventually, Charles couldn't gather the resolve to tear the painting. He rolled it up and tucked it away into his embrace. With a tinge of melancholy on his visage, he said, "Let's go, Lily. We're heading back."
The blind man behind them raised his hand wanting to stop Charles but ultimately hesitated and didn't utter a word.
On their way back, Lily could clearly sense that Mr. Charles was distracted. She instantly suspected that it must have something to do with that painting.
Could it be like in a play, that lady and Mr. Charles shared a passionate love story, and after that she heartlessly abandoned him? The white mouse speculated in her mind.
When Charles returned to the inn, he saw three envelopes placed at his doorstep. This time round, two sailors and the assistant chef said they wanted to quit.
With the addition of those deceased during their journey, almost half of the crew on Narwhale was gone.
"Aren't they too impatient? They resign the moment we are on shore and safe. Why don't they wait till we are back at the Coral Archipelago?" Feeling annoyed, Charles pushed the door open and entered his room.
He lit the oil lamp and took out the painting from his embrace. Staring at it intently for a solid few moments, he then clipped the painting securely between the pages of his captain's diary.
He then pulled out the pen from his breast pocket and started writing in his diary. Before he could pen a few characters, another envelope was slipped in through the gap under the door.
"If you want to leave, say it to me in person!" Charles shouted.
However, his shout was met with silence. Charles' expression turned grim as he walked to the door and opened the envelope
When he saw that the letter was signed off with Dipp's name, his expression turned serious instantly.
"Lily, come with me," Charles instructed and the white mouse hopped onto Charles' shoulder once more. Her army of brown mice followed after them, forming a carpet-like trail.
"Mr. Charles, why are we heading out again?" Lily asked, unable to hide her curiosity.
"Something's amiss. Dipp is in danger," Charles replied.
"Huh?" Lily's eyes widened in surprise.
Charles waved the letter before Lily's face and remarked, "There's no way he wrote this. That kid is an orphan. He can hardly read, so how would he know how to write a resignation letter? Someone forged the letter."
As the realization dawned upon him, Charles also noticed the suspicions behind the previous resignation letters.
If the crew members wanted to quit, most of them would just leave directly. If they shared a better relationship, they would resign in person like how Old John did. Only in extremely rare cases would they write a resignation letter.
Moreover, the elegant cursive handwriting didn't seem like what seafarers who lived a rough and tough lifestyle would be capable of writing.
As they walked on the streets, Charles felt a strong sense that something was amiss as he observed the islanders around him. He instructed Lily who was perched on his shoulder, "Send your mice out to find and gather every crew member that they can."
"Alright!" Lily squeaked twice and the brown carpet of mice instantly scattered away.
Cosyjuhye's ThoughtsI am rather perplexed how the blind artist can "touch" Anna's features on Charles' face. Perhaps, it's more about "touching" his thoughts? Any one want to offer some fan canon?
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