The giant bulls ate and drank until dawn before dispersing, and the caretaker went into the farmhouse to feed them.
"We'll head to the lawn in a bit, and quietly approach the place where we dug the ditch yesterday," Mu Yiran whispered to the others. "The giant bulls didn't sleep all night, and they'll definitely be resting in the management office this morning. This is our perfect opportunity. We only have one morning to escape. They'll find us when we eat lunch, so we can't stop for a moment. Run as far as you can. We don't know what's going on outside right now. If we get separated along the way, don't worry about others. Just save yourselves and find the signature as soon as possible to leave."
Everyone nodded. Qin Ci said, "It may sound heartless, but in this situation, saving ourselves is indeed the priority. However, we should also help each other as much as we can. How about this: let's agree on a marker. If we get separated during the escape, and if we still have the strength, let's leave a marker along the way to indicate the direction so that we can reunite. Maybe whoever finds the signature first can find us even if they leave first."
Seeing that everyone had no objections, Qin Ci drew several markers on the ground that indicated the direction and conveyed simple meanings, and told everyone to memorize them.
After breakfast, the giant bulls let the humans out to roam the lawn as usual. However, plans changed, and the bulls singled out Mu Yiran and Ke Xun, locking them in a cage.
"Don't worry about us, Dongzi, stick to the original plan!" Ke Xun shouted at Wei Dong, whose eyes were red again. "Run as far as you can, make sure you get the autograph and get out!"
Before Wei Dong could say anything, the bulls had already carried the cages away from the farmhouse.
Ke Xun and Mu Yiran stared intently at the outside from the cage door, feeling as if they were being led by two bulls for a while, entering a huge room. Inside, there was a huge car. The two were put into the car and thrown into the back seat. One bull drove, and the other sat in the passenger seat. A moment later, the car drove out of the farm.
"Where do you think they'll take us?" Ke Xun asked Mu Yiran. "A big hotel in the city? Or the market?"
"Maybe an underground casino." Mu Yiran leaned against the cage wall, closed his eyes, and sat down to rest.
Ke Xun thought for a moment and understood: "You mean that last night, these cows saw our potential and decided to take us to an underground casino specializing in this kind of gambling, so that we can fight against other humans and make a huge sum of money?"
"Most likely." Mu Yiran closed his eyes.
"Okay, the cows here have all the bad habits that humans have." Ke Xun walked over and sat down next to him. "I feel like we might die on this trip, so we need to find a way to escape. Do you have any ideas about signing the autograph?"
"No clue." Mu Yiran opened his eyes, his brows furrowed, unusually lost in thought.
"Don't worry," Ke Xun raised his hand, wanting to smooth his brows, but then withdrew it halfway. "Think slowly, it won't be difficult for you. The answer is probably right in front of you, it's just a matter of breaking through a thin layer of paper."
Mu Yiran didn't reply, but stared fixedly at a certain empty space, lost in thought.
Ke Xun didn't disturb him. He quietly stood up and walked to the cage, craning his neck to look out. He could barely see a glimpse of the scenery outside the car window. Large swathes of trees were flashing past, and occasionally flocks of sparrows flew by noisily.
"Hey," Ke Xun turned to look at Mu Yiran, "Isn't it strange? Since humans have become smaller and cows have become larger in this painting, and their statuses have been reversed, with humans becoming lower animals and cows becoming higher animals, then what role do you think birds play in this world?"
Mu Yiran suddenly looked up and met Ke Xun's gaze.
"I just saw a flock of sparrows, about the same size as in the real world," Ke Xun continued. "But the proportions between humans and cows are a bit strange. Even in the real world, domesticated cows and humans aren't that different in size, but here, the proportions of cows and us are like the proportions of humans and cats/dogs. The sparrows, on the other hand, don't seem to change much. What scale did the painter use to conceive this painting?"
"There's only one possibility," Mu Yiran also stood up. "The title of this painting doesn't match the painting itself. 'Animal World' is a bit too grand a title, and the painting itself doesn't depict a grand worldview.
The painter wanted to use a few key points to highlight one or two focal points to create the world he wanted to build, but unfortunately, he is, after all, just an up-and-coming painter, young and ambitious but lacking in maturity and meticulousness."
"During the painting process, he overlooked some small details, or perhaps he intended to use these small details to highlight the main point he wanted to express. Unfortunately, the conception was flawed, and the desired effect was not achieved; instead, it looked incongruous."
Ke Xun gave an "I see" look: "It seems we made a preconceived mistake, assuming that all the paintings we see are impeccable masterpieces, so we didn't consider the flaws. As it turns out, all the paintings exhibited this time are works by emerging artists, just starting out, and not necessarily perfect. We only focused on the central meaning he wanted to express, ignoring the imperfections, or even the bugs, in the painting."
Mu Yiran nodded slightly: "Now that we understand this, we can redefine this painting. Based on our experiences over the past few days, and the disproportionate ratio between the cow, the human, and the bird, we can infer that the painter's actual focus is not on the entire animal world, but merely on the subversive relationship between one or a few animals and humans."
"Obviously, this animal is a cow," Ke Xun said. "What he really wanted to paint was cows and people."
"But based on our experiences these past few days, the cows he paints are more than just cows," Mu Yiran said. "For example, Bi Jing, who force-fed his cattle like ducks, so the cows also have the characteristics of ducks.
"And yesterday, what you, me, and Dong Dong experienced was like cockfighting or dogfighting, so the cows also have the characteristics of chickens and dogs.
"Plus, the way they are managed and fed might also resemble pigs, sheep, or poultry.
"So this artist has concentrated and exaggerated some of the phenomena he has witnessed in how humans treat animals, and embodied them in the cows."
"From this perspective, I feel… does this artist have a kind of compassion for animals?" Ke Xun stroked his chin.
"Yes," Mu Yiran nodded, "so Zhu Haowen's statement almost hit the nail on the head. The painter may not be an extreme vegetarian, but he is likely an animal rights activist. However, I suspect that calling him an animal rights activist is a bit of an exaggeration. His thinking may not have reached that level. Judging from his narrow conception, his worldview is too narrow. He doesn't care about all animals; he probably only cares about a few. So, calling him an animal lover is more accurate."
Ke Xun raised an eyebrow: "Generally, people who keep pets at home can be called animal lovers. Dog owners love dogs, cat owners love cats, parrot owners love parrots. These people also have a certain amount of goodwill towards other kinds of animals, but not enough to advocate for other kinds of animals or pay constant attention to them. It can only be said that they love what they love and extend that love to others."
"You could say that," Mu Yiran said, "So since the painter's starting point and perspective for this painting are narrow, we can infer that the painter is probably not a pure or extreme animal rights activist."
"This is not a painting that rises to a more macro or deep level of humanistic reflection and humanitarian critique; its ideological content is confined to a small range of phenomena.
"But of course, this does not mean that such small-scale issues are not worth exploring or thinking about more deeply; it's just that the way it is expressed and the conception are more emotional.
"To put it bluntly, this painting is more like a personal handmade work that uses painting to vent."
"That kind of emotion is understandable," Ke Xun said. "When I was in school, if I wanted to vent, I would either masturbate or break records. That could be considered a form of creation or art."
Mu Yiran glanced at him coldly: "Since it's venting, then he obviously felt anger about the relevant events. An animal lover, angered by animals, and reversing the roles of humans and animals in his paintings—the reason for this anger shouldn't be hard to guess."
Ke Xun's gaze darkened, and he uttered two even heavier words: "Animal cruelty."
"Animal cruelty is something that no animal lover can accept or forgive," Mu Yiran's voice was also deep. "I suspect that the artist himself has owned animals, and those animals have experienced being cruelly killed."
"A cow?" Ke Xun put his hands on his chest. "Cows are rare in cities. Is the artist from the countryside or the mountains?"
"It's unlikely to be a cow," Mu Yiran shook his head. "Cows are considered labor in the countryside, and they're unlikely to be abused unless someone has a grudge against the cow's owner, but that wouldn't be enough for the artist to generalize to all of humanity. I'm more inclined to believe that the animal the artist kept was common, and that the abuse of such animals is quite common in real society."
Ke Xun frowned slightly. "A dog, or a cat."
"I think it's a dog," Mu Yiran said. "When I entered the painting, although it was brief, I did see some patterns. Besides the cow, there was a cat, but the cat was positioned off-center, in the background, so it was just incidental. A dog is more likely.
"I remember when we looked down at the farm from the ventilation shaft, we said that the shape of the entire farm looked like a crouching dog. We didn't pay attention at the time, but now that I think about it, it's almost like a hidden clue and metaphor left by the artist in the painting.
"And there's an even stronger piece of evidence: the artist's pen name."
"Lex?" Ke Xun raised an eyebrow.
"Lex is a very common English name; no one would suspect anything," Mu Yiran said. "But thinking about it now, it's clearly more than just a name.
"There was a dog in America named Lex who received a high honor.
"During the Iraq War, its owner was killed, and Lex itself was seriously wounded, with over fifty bullets inside its body. Even so, Lex stubbornly dragged its owner to the doctor with its mouth.
"So, the artist likely used this pen name because of this."