I Deduce the Female Lead Likes Me [Transmigration into a book] - Chapter 11: Exploration
“Sneak in.”
Kou Shuang had never considered this. She had thought about approaching Sun Jiawen first to understand the situation, and also about actively seeking out the man with sunglasses.
But now Song Muxue offered a new idea, and she thought it was excellent.
After dinner, the two left together. Kou Deqin looked particularly surprised and asked: “Where are you two going?”
Kou Shuang replied without looking back: “To have fun!”
As the two girls ran off together, a relieved smile appeared on Kou Deqin’s face.
They took a taxi to Yongshan Road, getting out two hundred meters from the gallery. Then they bought two milk teas on the street while waiting for Zheng Fenglin. He finally arrived fashionably late as they were almost finishing their drinks.
“What’s going on?” He hadn’t known the reason when Song Muxue called him out.
Kou Shuang, from a distance, tossed her milk tea cup into a trash can and said: “Case investigation.”
Clang—
The empty cup missed the opening, hit the side of the trash can, bounced to the ground, and spun halfway before slowly stopping.
Kou Shuang felt a bit awkward. Song Muxue walked over, picked up the empty cup, threw it in properly, and said: “Kou Shuang’s internship gallery has a problem. We’ll pretend to be buying paintings and see if we can get in to check the situation.”
Kou Shuang listened from the side, somewhat bewildered.
Wait, “sneak in” means this?
Shouldn’t it be us secretly, like a night operation? What’s with pretending to be customers?
Song Muxue then turned to Kou Shuang and asked: “What did the painting you sold look like? Roughly where was it backstage? I’ll find an opportunity to go in and look when I’m checking out.”
“Are you really going to buy a painting? Is this what you mean by ‘sneaking in’? ‘Seeing the situation’?”
“Of course,” Song Muxue nodded, then glanced at her and said: “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of something illegal.”
Kou Shuang was speechless.
My fault, I’ve been overthinking things. How could a good girl like Song Muxue want to sneak in? At most, she’d be on a private visit!
Kou Shuang put a hand to her forehead and said: “Then I’ll wait outside for you? I’m afraid of being recognized.”
She then pulled out her phone, searched for “Miscellaneous Autumn” on Baidu, and handed it to them: “Here, this one.”
Zheng Fenglin looked at it, frowned: “This painting is neither human nor ghost-like; I can’t even tell what it is!” He took out his phone and snapped a picture of Kou Shuang’s phone.
Song Muxue, calm as snow, living up to her name, said: “It’s on Baidu; why are you taking a picture?”
Zheng Fenglin scratched his head, chuckled awkwardly, and said: “Forgot.”
Kou Shuang was speechless.
Kou Shuang was afraid of being recognized if she stayed too close, so she simply stood on the street waiting for them. She watched them walk side-by-side, and for some reason, a sudden thought struck her: These two are truly a perfect match, like a golden boy and jade girl.
Kou Shuang sighed, she didn’t know why.
But in less than two minutes, she saw them return.
“What’s wrong?” Kou Shuang asked: “Song Muxue, were you recognized? Were you kicked out?”
Kou Shuang felt a little regretful at this point. Lux had seen Song Muxue before, and such a beautiful person would surely leave a deep impression, so it would still alert the enemy.
To her surprise, Song Muxue shook her head and said: “No, the gallery is closed. There’s a ‘for sale’ sign on the door.”
Saying this, Song Muxue handed her phone over. She had a habit of taking pictures as evidence, which was quite convenient.
The photo showed Chunsheng Gallery, with the glass door locked and an A4 paper taped to the wall, printing “Prime Property for Sublease, contact 13XXXXXXXXX.” Kou Shuang frowned and said: “This…”
As she returned the phone to Song Muxue, she accidentally touched her finger. It was soft and delicate, but… very cold.
No wonder her name was Song Muxue (meaning “Snow of Dusk”). Perhaps it was the author’s design.
“Let’s go in and take a look together then,” Song Muxue paused, saying: “Let’s just say we’re here to look at the shop.”
Kou Shuang: “…”
Wait, so the “law-abiding” setting was really just a setting? There’s no one in the gallery now, so going in isn’t breaking the law anymore?
Kou Shuang realized she didn’t quite understand Song Muxue’s logic of self-discipline, but she didn’t say much. She followed Song Muxue and Zheng Fenglin.
A lock hung on the door. Kou Shuang reached up and touched it, surprisingly finding it wasn’t locked, just for show. As Kou Shuang opened the lock, she turned back to Song Muxue with a smile and said: “This really prevents gentlemen but not scoundrels.”
Song Muxue said: “I am not a scoundrel.”
Kou Shuang gave Song Muxue a meaningful glance and said: “You’re certainly not small.”
Song Muxue paused at this remark, but then thought that Kou Shuang wouldn’t be so boringly vulgar, so she could only swallow her confusion and followed behind Zheng Fenglin as they walked inside.
“This is the backstage area,” Kou Shuang said, pushing open the small door between the exhibition hall and the backstage.
Aside from tables, chairs, and other large furniture, it was almost completely empty; everything had been moved out.
“People leave, the tea cools?” Kou Shuang said, turning on her phone’s flashlight, trying to find any remaining clues.
Meanwhile, Song Muxue fumbled along the wall for a moment, then “snap!” the switch flipped, and the lights suddenly came on.
Kou Shuang jumped in fright. She turned to look at Song Muxue and said: “Why did you turn on the lights? Aren’t we here to secretly look for evidence?”
Song Muxue smiled calmly and said: “We’re here to look at the commercial space.”
Kou Shuang: “…”
She suddenly realized that Song Muxue was a bit different from what she had imagined, seeming a little more… cunning?
Song Muxue turned to look at where she had pressed the switch, curious. “I pressed two switches at once. What was the other one for?”
Kou Shuang and Zheng Fenglin both leaned in. The two switches looked identical; no difference could be seen. Just as the small room fell silent, the sound of an appliance starting up came from somewhere, accompanied by a “beep-beep” sound, giving a sense of déjà vu from a sci-fi movie. Kou Shuang, being timid, immediately grabbed Song Muxue’s arm and said: “Holy crap! Could it be an AI?!”
Anyway, since transmigrating into a book had already happened, what did a little more sci-fi matter?
Song Muxue, however, turned to stare at Kou Shuang, a hint of confusion flashing in her clear eyes, which was quickly hidden.
“Holy crap”… and instinctively grabbing her arm when startled…
Doesn’t Kou Shuang like Zheng Fenglin?
“Over here.” Zheng Fenglin’s voice interrupted Song Muxue’s thoughts. The latter looked over and saw Zheng Fenglin pointing at a pair of red eyes on the corner of the ceiling wall, saying: “Surveillance.”
The camera mechanically rotated once, finally “looking” at Kou Shuang and her group, its red light blinking.
“A relatively advanced surveillance system that automatically turns towards heat sources. This thing is expensive; a small gallery definitely wouldn’t need it,” Zheng Fenglin explained, and then grew serious: “This place seems to hold quite a few secrets.”
Isn’t it just selling fake paintings? The highest single transaction was 420,000, and the profit isn’t particularly high. Kou Shuang was doing calculations in her head. This meant the gallery wasn’t doing this just once or twice.
Song Muxue turned off the surveillance again.
Knowing that the thing that scared her was this unlucky surveillance camera again, Kou Shuang felt a bit deflated. She put her phone away and continued to examine the scene.
She opened a drawer and found an empty accounting ledger cover, filled with dates for the current month.
“Dummy accounts,” Kou Shuang said.
Song Muxue glanced at her.
“What’s this?” Zheng Fenglin said: “Kou Shuang, come take a look; I can’t understand this.”
Kou Shuang took a picture of the empty ledger cover—she learned this from Song Muxue—then walked over to Zheng Fenglin.
A pile of paintings lay in a corner, covered only by a canvas to prevent dust, but the parts touching the ground were already dirty, suggesting they weren’t highly valued.
Kou Shuang looked for a while, frowning. Although she wasn’t particularly an expert, her recent cramming had given her a rough understanding of art history. These were copies of famous paintings, and failed copies at that.
Of course, not famous paintings like “Mona Lisa,” but from around the 1960s after the founding of the PRC, still valuable.
Kou Shuang frowned, taking a picture of each painting one by one.
Although she didn’t know the location of the real paintings, these were probably paintings that had been or would be sold at Chunsheng Gallery.
So, Old Chun and Lux were engaged in this kind of business? Did Old Chun paint them, or Lux?
Song Muxue walked over. Kou Shuang asked her: “Did you find anything else?”
“Your employee ID, and a few internship agreements,” Song Muxue flipped through the internship agreements one by one, finally saying: “They all have traps, completely absolving themselves of responsibility and putting all the blame on the interns.”
Song Muxue glanced at Kou Shuang and said: “You should have shown me before you signed the agreement.”
“I won’t do it next time,” Kou Shuang’s face inexplicably flushed red; she felt a bit embarrassed.
Song Muxue pulled out Kou Shuang’s copy and handed it to her, saying: “Even if you were scammed, by discarding the agreements, they’ve abandoned their rights. Keep this safely; don’t let yourself be exploited again. It might even serve as evidence in court.”
Kou Shuang nodded, took it, and then suddenly remembered something, asking Song Muxue: “Is there one for Sun Jiawen?”
Song Muxue looked at Kou Shuang, then flipped through the stack of internship agreements again, finally concluding: “No.”
“Oh.”
Zheng Fenglin looked around, feeling that almost all the clues had been found. Only then did he replace the canvas cover. Kou Shuang found that scene amusing, thinking it looked like putting a red veil on a young lady.
This exploration also felt very much like those crime-solving games on her phone.
“Shall we go then?” Zheng Fenglin said: “I have a night shift tonight; I need to get there now.”
Song Muxue nodded and admonished: “Be careful.”
Kou Shuang, however, glanced at Song Muxue, suddenly feeling curious.
Song Muxue’s parents died when she was seventeen. Although she inherited her parents’ shares and inheritance, she had no other relatives. It was said that she lived with the Kou family before university, but then moved out for some unknown reason.
It must be because “Kou Shuang” fell for Zheng Fenglin, leading to conflict between them.
So, where had Song Muxue been living all this time?
On a whim, Kou Shuang opened her mouth to invite Song Muxue.
“Hey, why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”
Looking at Song Muxue’s cool eyes, Kou Shuang braved herself to explain: “I want to hear you… tell me where the traps are in this agreement, so I don’t fall for them again in the future.”
“Okay.” After a moment’s pause, Song Muxue spoke.