Sun Rain Chapter 11
byIn fact, Fu Xuanliao had almost forgotten the details of that day. Only after Shi Meng reminded him did he recall that Shi Mu had likely stood him up.
It seemed Shi Mu had made a last-minute decision to go to another province for a soccer match. By the time Fu Xuanliao found out, Shi Mu was already on the plane, having left in such a hurry that he didn’t even have time to tell him goodbye.
Driven by the instinct to seek pleasure and avoid pain, Fu Xuanliao’s brain subconsciously filtered out unpleasant experiences.
Since they were unpleasant, he naturally didn’t want them brought up. He should have been angry, should have been furious, should have questioned Shi Meng, “What makes you think you can replace him?” But he knew this guy used to secretly follow him and Shi Mu when they were kids; he just never pointed it out.
Now, hearing Shi Meng indirectly admit it, gave him a feeling of distant history, as if it had happened in a previous life.
It was so long ago that he couldn’t recall his feelings at the time: was it the indignation of being stood up, or the embarrassment of a high school student going to the Amusement Park?
But so much time had passed, and none of that mattered anymore. Perhaps unwilling to ruin the atmosphere of the last three minutes, Fu Xuanliao curled his lips and said playfully, “So you really were there that day.”
Shi Meng lowered his gaze, giving a soft “Mhm,” sounding embarrassed.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” Fu Xuanliao asked.
Shi Meng didn’t speak, the edges of his ears faintly flushed red under the overhead light.
Fu Xuanliao said, feigning sudden realization, “Oh, you were shy.”
Shi Meng turned his head away, still silent.
Rarely seeing him look so flustered, Fu Xuanliao couldn’t help but lean closer to observe. “Were you afraid to approach me?”
Shi Meng closed his eyes, his lashes trembling slightly, and shook his head with a minimal movement.
Fu Xuanliao pressed on, “You remember it so clearly? It seems ever since then you’ve already…”
Before he could finish, Shi Meng forcefully pushed away the person pressing down on him, slipped out through the gap beside them, and pattered away in his slippers toward the inner room.
Fu Xuanliao couldn’t help but laugh. He slowly turned around, leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and asked the person who had fled back to the bedroom, “I wasn’t finished. Why are you running?”
Once Shi Meng’s figure vanished around the corner, the smile on Fu Xuanliao’s lips faded, and his gaze turned cold.
He recalled the time he had jokingly asked Shi Meng if he really liked him; Shi Meng’s reaction had been similar.
If it was just simple possessiveness, that was fine, but if it was real… His brow furrowed, and Fu Xuanliao’s expression darkened, as if he had encountered a troublesome matter he didn’t know how to handle.
That night, the two of them squeezed into one of the five rooms. Having expended considerable energy before bed, they slept soundly.
When he woke up the next day, Shi Meng instinctively reached out beside him, but didn’t feel the familiar sweater. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the unfamiliar furniture for a long time before remembering this was the Fu residence.
Half the bed was empty; Fu Xuanliao wasn’t in the room. He got dressed and walked out, finding the living and dining areas deserted, completely empty.
A note was left on the table. Judging by the handwriting, it was from Fu Xuanliao.
—I went to work. Order takeout if you’re hungry. If you leave, take a taxi yourself, and don’t forget your car is parked at Heting Club.
The note was thin enough to see through. When he flipped it over, there was another line of text.
—Call me if anything happens.
Reading it word by word three times, Shi Meng neatly folded the note and tucked it into his pocket.
After yesterday, Shi Meng realized he and Fu Xuanliao shared one thing in common: they were extremely unparticular about food; basically, anything that filled the stomach was fine.
He took out the leftovers from the fridge, selected a few easy items to heat in the microwave, and slowly ate alone at the large dining table.
Halfway through the meal, he suddenly remembered something. He picked up his phone and stared at the contact numbered 001 for a few seconds. Remembering the note, “I went to work,” he decided to send a text instead.
—Did you eat breakfast?
001 replied ten minutes later.
—Yes.
Shi Meng wanted to ask what he had eaten, as the food in the fridge clearly hadn’t been touched. He typed a few characters, but the movement of his fingers tapping the screen slowly stopped.
Even though their time had been adjusted from Saturday to Sunday, it was now Monday, and he had no reason to bother him further.
Shi Meng felt he had become greedy. Before, watching from afar had been enough to satisfy him, but now that he possessed and monopolized Fu Xuanliao, he still wanted more.
When he went to Heting Club to retrieve his car, he ran into Fu Xuanliao’s friend, Gao Lecheng, in the parking lot.
Gao Lecheng sauntered over and stopped in front of the car, wearing a half-smile. Shi Meng, whose exit was blocked, honked twice. Not only did the guy not move, but he walked around to the driver’s side and leaned down to tap on the window.
After a slight hesitation, Shi Meng opened the window and asked, “What is it?”
“Nothing much, just wanted to admire the artist whose beauty surpasses his paintings up close.” Gao Lecheng’s tone was frivolous, but he maintained a proper social distance, and his compliment seemed genuine. “Tsk, seeing is believing, indeed.”
Shi Meng usually let the words of unimportant people go in one ear and out the other. The hand that hadn’t left the button was about to roll the window up when Gao Lecheng quickly said, “Hey, wait a minute.”
He pulled an envelope from his pocket and slid it through the window gap. “Since we ran into each other so coincidentally, could you please give this to your manager, Miss Jiang?”
The envelope dropped onto Shi Meng’s lap. He picked it up, looked at it, but didn’t open it. “What is this?”
Gao Lecheng winked mysteriously. “A secret.”
Shi Meng was already on his way to see Jiang Xue. Since it was on the way, and he wasn’t curious about the relationship between the man named Gao and Sister Xue, he tucked the envelope into the console, implicitly agreeing to the favor.
Gao Lecheng immediately expressed his thanks and added a piece of trivia. “Artist, you look even better with slightly shorter hair.”
Shi Meng, who hadn’t had a haircut in a long time, was startled by the comment.
Pointing below his ear, Gao Lecheng made a snipping motion. “From what I know, Old Fu has absolutely no resistance to guys with neat, short hair.”
The meeting place with Jiang Xue was still the café inside the exhibition hall.
There was still some accounting to finish. Jiang Xue took out a calculator, slammed it on the table, and tapped away, cross-referencing the contract. After finishing the calculations, she looked up and saw Shi Meng turned to the right, staring blankly out the glass window.
“I always thought you were quite unkempt normally,” Jiang Xue said, surprised. “What, are you finally stunned by your own beauty?”
Shi Meng withdrew his gaze, shook his head, and continued stirring the coffee in his cup.
Jiang Xue summarized the recent income reports for Shi Meng, then let out a long sigh. “The money we earn can’t keep up with the money we spend.”
She was still dwelling on the ten million yuan, feeling it was a waste of money, and she gave Shi Meng his gift awkwardly. “Here, a commemorative coin for you. This year is your Zodiac year, so it’s quite meaningful.”
The entire set of gold coins was beautifully packaged. The front was stamped with the current year’s zodiac animal, and the back featured the autumn foliage of Fengcheng, utilizing fine sandblasting, frosting, and micro-engraving techniques. Several of the coins were also made into circular punched coins, giving them significant artistic value.
“That expression… you don’t think it’s tacky, do you?” Jiang Xue tried to save face. “The main thing is that gold holds its value. If you ever hit rock bottom, you can exchange it for cash and make a comeback.”
After saying it, she felt she had jinxed them, and lightly patted her mouth. “Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey. Our Mengmeng is rich for three generations. Everyone else might starve, but the Shis won’t.”
Shi Meng curved his lips into a smile and accepted the weighty gift. “Thank you, Sister Xue, for thinking of me.”
Since she rarely saw him smile, Jiang Xue was dazzled by the flash of beauty. She picked up her cup and cleared her throat. “No need to be polite.”
Jiang Xue’s ladylike demeanor lasted less than five minutes. When Shi Meng took the envelope out of his pocket and handed it over, explaining that a Mr. Gao had asked him to deliver it, she shot up from her seat.
“What is it? Tell him to take it back immediately!” Jiang Xue said dismissively. “To actually ask you for help—he’s absolutely relentless.”
Seeing her strong reaction, Shi Meng knew he had made a mistake helping, so he took the envelope back.
He didn’t have a habit of prying into others’ private affairs, but Jiang Xue was straightforward. Before he could ask, she volunteered the information: “Ever since that banquet last time, that kid has had a screw loose. He sends flowers to my office every single day.”
Shi Meng thought for a moment and confirmed, “He’s pursuing you.”
“Hah, how dare a good-for-nothing rake like him try to pursue me?”
“He graduated from an Ivy League business school, is the only son of the Gao family, and the Gao Group is valued at hundreds of billions of US dollars,” Shi Meng analyzed. “Strictly speaking, he’s not a rake.”
Jiang Xue was slightly surprised. “Do you want me to find a rich guy too?”
Shi Meng said seriously, “You were the one who said that matching family status is important. I think if marriage is necessary, he could be included in the scope of consideration.”
“You little brat.” Jiang Xue laughed. “Sort yourself out first before you try to lecture your older sister.”
Jiang Xue figured Shi Meng was extending his affection to everything connected to the beloved person—because he liked the man named Fu, he automatically viewed Fu’s friends through rose-tinted glasses.
Shi Meng disagreed. Since neither could convince the other, they left the exhibition hall that afternoon and ducked into a nearby pub, ordering three dishes and a pitcher of beer to continue their discussion.
Though they called it a discussion, most of the time Jiang Xue was unilaterally venting, while Shi Meng acted as a listener, occasionally nodding or shaking his head to express his opinion.
“Although love is the most unreliable thing in the world, we can still hold onto a sliver of hope.”
So said the still-sober Jiang Xue, and Shi Meng agreed.
“But that hope must first exclude rakes,” Jiang Xue said, shaking a raised finger. “There’s enough theoretical data to support the idea that men turn bad when they get rich. Look at your father—I worry he’ll bring another child home one day, claiming it’s your younger brother, ready to split the family assets with you.”
Remembering that he himself had been brought back to the Shi family in a similar manner, Shi Meng couldn’t argue. He silently opened another can of beer for Jiang Xue.
The result of drowning her sorrows was dredging up unbearable memories. Jiang Xue propped her head up, swaying back and forth, muttering, “Bad man, bad man… But that guy, he wasn’t even rich yet, so why was he so bad?”
Shi Meng couldn’t answer that question.
Jiang Xue’s mouth drooped. She hated herself for being weak. “Why did I think of him again…”
There was so much unspeakable bitterness that she could only rely on being “muddled” by alcohol to vent.
Shi Meng’s personality destined him not to be a counselor, but he was certainly capable of being an excellent listener.
“Why do you think he just didn’t like me?” When talking about that man, Jiang Xue found it hard not to obsess. “Was I not pretty enough, was my family not rich enough, or did I not earn enough?”
After a silence, Shi Meng could only say, “It’s not your fault.”
Tearing open the wound under the numbness of the alcohol seemed to make it hurt less.
Shi Meng recalled the first time he met Jiang Xue. She stood proudly before him, saying she was confident she could elevate him into the country’s foremost painter.
She was clearly a fledgling young woman, yet she dared to boast and dared to venture out everywhere.
“My hometown is Xuncheng. You’ve had D-brand chocolate, right? My family produces it.” Speaking of her background, Jiang Xue was proud and confident, but not boastful. “I also have a fiancé, a PhD student at A University—isn’t that impressive? I came out here to make my way just to prove to him that I can stand on my own two feet without my parents, and that I can be worthy of him and support him!”
As much as Shi Meng had admired Jiang Xue’s courage back then, he felt just as much heartache for her plight on that rainy night four years ago.
“I was deceived, Mengmeng. We were both deceived.” At the time, Jiang Xue was sitting on the roadside, completely soaked and utterly miserable. “He said he was only with me to study smoothly, that my parents forced him. He said… he said he had repaid everything he owed our family, and asked me not to pressure him anymore. So, all the affection and sweetness I thought we shared were just forced acts, done out of necessity for him.”
“He never liked me at all.”
…
Tears mixed with the rain streaming down, seeming to carry the scent of blood.
The depth of Shi Meng’s empathy back then was matched by the intensity of Jiang Xue’s anger when Shi Meng later repeated her mistakes.
After gentle persuasion, verbal attacks, and even sarcasm all failed to work, the helpless Jiang Xue could only use her own experience at opportune moments to sound the alarm for him.
Like now.
Pulling herself out of the memory, Jiang Xue answered her own question: “None of those. It wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough; it was because Cupid missed his aim. He shot through my heart but missed his.”
As she spoke, she mimed drawing a bow, which made her laugh.
Shi Meng pulled out a tissue and handed it to her.
Wiping away her tears, she opened another bottle of beer and clinked the can against Shi Meng’s on the table. Jiang Xue concluded, “By the same logic, the old saying is absolutely right: a forced melon is never sweet.” Then she delivered a soul-searching question: “Did you actually listen to anything I just told you?”
Shi Meng nodded, then shook his head, meaning he understood but didn’t entirely agree.
He picked up a slice of lotus root sprinkled with chili flakes and put it in his mouth. After chewing twice, he was reminded of the spicy hot pot he had eaten with Fu Xuanliao last night. It had the same pungent aroma, mixed with the natural sweetness of the ingredients.
He wasn’t particular about food; as long as he could eat it, he could taste the sweetness.
“Just look at you, you clearly didn’t listen.” Jiang Xue waved her hand weakly. “Forget it. You won’t give up until you hit a brick wall. Just be happy.”
To prove that Fu Xuanliao was not the “brick wall,” Shi Meng said, “Last night, he took me home.”
Jiang Xue suddenly understood. “I knew it! Why else would you go to an Amusement Park? It was a date… Why didn’t you say so earlier? You made me worry for nothing.”
The word “date” was new to Shi Meng. He thought that if going to the Amusement Park counted as a date, then he should create more such scenarios. They wouldn’t have to be constantly at odds, they wouldn’t have to have sex the moment they met; simply being together could be very happy.
Hearing Shi Meng’s request, Jiang Xue cheered up. “Wait right here. Tonight, I’ll compile a document for you listing all the must-visit spots for couples in Fengcheng.”
Returning home that evening, Shi Meng transcribed the information Jiang Xue had sent him into a notebook, ranking the locations according to how much he wanted to visit them.
It was just past nine o’clock. Fu Xuanliao should be off work.
To avoid disturbing him outside the hours stipulated in the contract, Shi Meng still chose to send a text message, making his wording as cautious as possible.
Fu Xuanliao always called him “crazy,” so perhaps he could learn to be a little more “normal.”
—This Saturday, I would like to arrange a different activity.
Waiting was also something he couldn’t be distracted from. So after sending the text, he didn’t paint while waiting, nor did he put down his phone to shower first. Instead, he sat by the window sill, holding his phone, waiting for a reply.
This time, the response was quick. Fu Xuanliao called directly. “What is it?”
“Don’t come here on Saturday,” Shi Meng said concisely. “We’ll meet outside.”
A laugh came from the other end of the line. “Hooked on playing now, are we?”
Shi Meng didn’t deny it, only saying, “I’ll send you the address once it’s confirmed.”
Fu Xuanliao was curious to know what Shi Meng was planning, and readily agreed. “Sure.”
Before hanging up, Shi Meng called out to him. “Fu Xuanliao.”
“Hm? What else?”
“Good night.”
“…Good night.”
The call ended. Fu Xuanliao stared blankly at his phone for a long time, still unable to grasp the meaning of that sudden, random “Good night.”
The most ordinary words, coming from a lunatic like Shi Meng, somehow became strange and peculiar.
What he didn’t know was that Shi Meng, dozens of kilometers away, felt immensely comforted by those two words.
That night, Shi Meng escaped the relentless nightmares. Closing his eyes, he saw the boundless blue sky and felt the sun within reach.