Sun Rain Chapter 10
byOn the road, Shi Meng received a call from Jiang Xue.
“Happy birthday, Xiao Mengmeng.” Jiang Xue called right on time, assuming Shi Meng was alone, “Did that guy leave? See how sensible I am, I didn’t bother you last night or today.”
Shi Meng was sitting in the passenger seat of Fu Xuanliao’s car. Hearing this, he turned his head to look at “that guy” and said truthfully, “He didn’t come.”
“What?” Her voice instantly rose several octaves. Jiang Xue snapped, “Isn’t it Saturday? Why wouldn’t he go?”
Although he wasn’t on speakerphone, the volume was loud enough for the person beside him to hear. Shi Meng watched Fu Xuanliao’s lips curve into a subtle arc. He turned slightly and spoke into the phone: “It was changed to today.”
“I see.” Jiang Xue calmed down immediately. “Are you two out?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you go?”
“The Amusement Park.”
“Didn’t it rain today? Is the Amusement Park open?”
“It’s open.”
Shi Meng never answered calls when he was busy, including when driving, so Jiang Xue assumed he was free and started chatting with him: “Hey, did that Fu guy get you a gift?”
Shi Meng lowered his eyes and picked at the fabric on his knee: “No.”
Jiang Xue spat: “Stupid man.”
Shi Meng: “…”
Even he, slow as he was, sensed a trace of awkwardness. Fortunately, Jiang Xue didn’t intend to dwell on Fu Xuanliao. Changing the subject, she said, “It’s okay, Sis prepared a gift for you. I’ll give it to you in person tomorrow.”
Shi Meng said, “Thank you, Sis.”
“Don’t expect too much. My gifts are always practical. Since you emptied your savings to buy that painting, this is a little subsidy to improve your life.”
The mention of the painting made Shi Meng inexplicably restless. He repeated a noncommittal “Thank you.”
Probably sensing his distraction, Jiang Xue decided to end the call: “Are you heading back now?”
Shi Meng didn’t know how to explain the current situation, so he casually said, “Yes, almost.”
“It’s not safe driving so late, and your house is so far. Call a designated driver.”
Shi Meng looked out the window. The bustling road was different from the suburbs; it was still lively at this hour.
“No need,” he said. “I’m not going home tonight.”
“Then where are you staying?”
The Land Rover drove steadily on the smooth road. Even though the road ahead was unknown, Shi Meng felt completely unconcerned.
After thinking for a long time and failing to find a suitable term, and not wanting Jiang Xue to worry, Shi Meng replied, “A friend’s house.”
The Fu family chose to live in a high-rise instead of a detached house, naturally for the convenience of transportation.
Shi Meng had never seen a home where the elevator opened directly into the apartment. He paused for a long time in the entryway before confirming he was actually inside Fu Xuanliao’s home.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Fu Xuanliao greeted him. “I’ll see if there’s anything to eat.”
Neither of them had eaten dinner. Opening the refrigerator, they only found two eggs and a carton of milk. Fu Xuanliao held the only remaining food and began contemplating the feasibility of going straight to sleep without dinner.
Since he had a guest, he ultimately chose to order takeout.
“Fried chicken, pizza, barbecue, spicy hot pot, steamed buns… only these are available at this hour.” He tossed his phone to Shi Meng. “Order whatever you want. Just use the default address.”
This level of familiarity clearly indicated it wasn’t the first time he had ordered.
Looking around, the apartment was estimated to be over two hundred square meters, decorated in an Italian style—refined and neat. It was also very clean, suggesting a cleaning lady came regularly. However, it seemed a cook hadn’t visited in a long time, as the kitchen appliances looked brand new.
Seeing Shi Meng looking around, Fu Xuanliao asked, “What, do you think the place is too small?”
Shi Meng withdrew his gaze and shook his head.
“It certainly can’t compare to your house,” Fu Xuanliao stretched his arms and leaned back on the sofa. “If you can’t stand it, I can call a driver to take you back.”
Shi Meng shook his head again, picking up the phone to focus on the takeout menu.
The drive had been long enough for both of them to recover and gradually return to their previous mode of interaction.
Shi Meng ordered two ten-inch pizzas, two pairs of grilled wings, two servings of crab roe steamed buns, two bowls of spicy hot pot, two drinks… a dazzling array of over ten items, requiring three delivery drivers.
Fu Xuanliao, who had originally planned to eat dinner at the kitchen island, had to move the food to the dining table and spread it out. It wasn’t that he cared about the money, but he was a little overwhelmed.
Shi Meng was even more overwhelmed, though he didn’t show it.
It was his first time ordering takeout. He only looked at the variety and didn’t pay attention to the quantity, thinking he should get two of everything. He hadn’t realized Fu Xuanliao hadn’t even set up facial recognition, and the payment went through automatically before he could check the price.
“You ordered so much, can we finish it?” Fu Xuanliao asked.
“We can eat it tomorrow,” Shi Meng said.
“Then why not order fresh food tomorrow?” Fu Xuanliao asked again.
Shi Meng fell silent. He picked up a slice of pizza and silently stuffed it into his mouth.
He had always been like this. When faced with something he didn’t want to answer or didn’t know how to answer, he pretended not to hear, which earned him the impression of being “aloof” to outsiders.
But in Fu Xuanliao’s eyes, this behavior was tantamount to evading responsibility, and what he hated most was Shi Meng’s self-centered, disdainful attitude toward explanation.
Taking a big gulp of his drink, Fu Xuanliao thought self-mockingly, just treat him like a sugar baby. Why would someone selling themselves demand reasons from their patron?
Having figured this out, Fu Xuanliao calmed down. After dinner, he pointed Shi Meng toward the bathroom and personally found him a clean, new bathrobe, which he delivered inside, feeling he had served him quite well.
Before leaving, Fu Xuanliao asked half-jokingly, “Can you wash yourself? Do you need a back scrubber?”
Whether Shi Meng was truly naive or pretending, he paused for a moment, as if seriously considering the feasibility, then replied, “No, I can do it myself.”
Fu Xuanliao chuckled and backed out. Walking into the living room, he remembered he forgot to turn on the heater above the bathtub. He turned back, pushed the door open, and looked up, directly facing Shi Meng, who was half-undressed.
Both froze. Fu Xuanliao reacted first, raising his hand to press the button on the wall with a click. Shi Meng reflexively turned his back.
Fu Xuanliao laughed softly: “Why hide? Even if I haven’t seen it, I’ve touched it.”
He then retreated.
Shi Meng didn’t have a habit of taking baths. He tightly closed the glass door of the shower room. Only when the water rushed over his body did he regain the sense of security of being alone.
He had almost no experience sleeping away from home growing up. Before he was eight, Yang Youlan managed him strictly. Once, he was late coming home after helping a teacher collect homework at school, and she beat him with a broom, calling him an “ungrateful wretch who can’t be raised.”
Later, when he went to the Shi family, he had even fewer opportunities to stay out. After all, besides Jiang Xue, he had no other friends and nowhere else to go.
Unfamiliar environments made Shi Meng fearful, reminding him of when he first arrived at the Shi family, equally scared, always hiding in the corner of the Attic. Once, a careless maid locked him in, and he stayed there all night, nearly catching a severe illness from the cold.
Shi Meng, visiting Fu Xuanliao’s house for the first time, locked himself in the bathroom for nearly an hour. When he came out to dress, he saw a pale, sickly person in the mirror. His gaze and his heart slowly cooled.
He began to feel that he shouldn’t be here, that he shouldn’t have agreed to Fu Xuanliao’s casual invitation.
He always seemed to cross the achievable boundaries, reaching for things beyond his capability.
He raised a hand to touch the skin covering his left ribs. The different texture and temperature compared to other areas made his fingertips tremble slightly. But Fu Xuanliao was careless; he probably hadn’t seen it just now. Shi Meng gently exhaled and put on the bathrobe.
When he came out, the living room was already tidy. The leftovers he hadn’t found in the trash can were now in the refrigerator. Shi Meng remembered Fu Xuanliao threatening to throw away the unfinished food during dinner, making his contradictory actions seem a bit childish.
The apartment had five rooms. Before he showered, Fu Xuanliao told him to pick any room he liked. Shi Meng pushed open the door farthest from the living room. The light was on inside, and the faint sound of running water came from the en-suite bathroom.
A one-in-five chance, and he hit the mark immediately.
Since the host said to choose freely, Shi Meng decided to make himself at home. He entered the Suite and sat down in the chair next to the desk.
Fu Xuanliao’s desk had a characteristic unique to him—messy yet organized.
Various professional books and magazines were stacked together, as high as the computer monitor, with a Kindle resting on top like the spire of a pagoda. Pens were also piled up haphazardly; the stylish pen holder was abandoned, as if the corner of the desk or the floor were their true destination. Then there were contracts and documents, completely unsorted, stacked directly on top of the printer—all A4 paper, which made them barely neat.
Although messy, the areas were clearly defined and didn’t interfere with each other. Shi Meng suppressed his fastidiousness and refrained from tidying up for him. When he turned his head, intending to ignore the mess, he saw a set of paintbrushes placed on the bookshelf to the right of the desk.
Wooden handles, red sable tips, neatly arranged in a matching wooden brush washer. Their treatment was incomparably better than the pile of pens on the desk.
Out of professional habit, Shi Meng subconsciously wanted to test the brushes. His eyes scanned the room but found no paint, let alone paper. Upon closer inspection, although the set was well-preserved, several brush handles showed obvious signs of wear from use.
Brushes used by someone else.
To be cherished so highly, the identity of the user was self-evident.
Just as Shi Meng was distracted, wondering how to proceed, the bathroom door opened. Fu Xuanliao walked out, drying his hair. He first froze when he saw Shi Meng, then glanced at the object in Shi Meng’s hand, and a flash of irritation crossed his eyes.
“Don’t touch my things,” he said.
Shi Meng felt he was being unreasonable. Just moments ago, he told him to sit anywhere and choose any room, and now he couldn’t touch things.
This emotion should be called anger, but Sister Xue said he shouldn’t be angry on his birthday. Having reached this conclusion, Shi Meng frowned and put the brushes back into the brush washer.
Shi Meng’s reaction was unexpected to Fu Xuanliao.
Given Shi Meng’s stubborn tendency to destroy what he couldn’t have, Fu Xuanliao thought he would snap the brushes or throw them out the window. Instead, he had changed his tune this time. Not only did he not throw a fit, but he obediently put the items back in their original place.
He was clearly in a bad mood, though, his mouth visibly downturned. He sat in the chair, looking down at the floor, lost in thought.
He looked like a child who had been scolded.
Fu Xuanliao didn’t even realize his heart had softened. His body moved forward first. He bent down, wrapped his arms around Shi Meng’s shoulders from behind, and whispered close to his ear, “It’s just a few brushes. Did you forget I used to study painting too?”
Their bodies were already accustomed to intimate contact, but Shi Meng was still momentarily dazed by the clean scent of shower gel mixed with the steam surrounding him. Moreover, the amount of “coaxing” in that sentence was excessive, leaving him somewhat at a loss.
Shi Meng tilted his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Fu Xuanliao’s high nose bridge and a few dripping strands of hair in his peripheral vision. Then he withdrew his gaze and mumbled a muffled “Oh.”
Fu Xuanliao was amused by his reaction. He propped his hand on the back of the chair and straightened up: “Since you chose this room, you’ll sleep here tonight. I’m going to blow-dry my hair. There’s water in the fridge, you can…”
As soon as he turned around, he was bumped forward two small steps by the person who had “ambushed” him from behind. Then, his waist tightened, firmly embraced by two arms.
Shi Meng, whose nerves had been taut since entering the door, clung to Fu Xuanliao like a lifeline: “Don’t go.”
He was only obedient for three seconds before becoming domineering again.
Fu Xuanliao sighed: “I’m not leaving for good.”
Shi Meng didn’t let go.
“Then come with me?”
Shi Meng nodded.
Fu Xuanliao transformed into a walking tree, shuffling forward with the koala clinging to him.
Entering the still-steamy bathroom, just as he picked up the hairdryer, Shi Meng wrapped around him again, demanding a kiss. His teeth ground carelessly against the skin of his neck and ear, and his bathrobe was half-pulled open.
This behavior was equivalent to lighting a fuse. Fu Xuanliao considered his physical functions normal, so there was no way he wouldn’t take the bait.
As the towel covering his wet hair dropped to the floor, the situation reversed in an instant. Fu Xuanliao placed one hand on Shi Meng’s waist and the other on his shoulder. With a slight push, he pressed him against the empty wall.
The passionate kiss was like a duel, hot breaths mingling, lips and tongues grinding and covering each other. Shi Meng kissed recklessly and earnestly, not wanting to miss a single corner.
Fu Xuanliao took the initiative, wrapping his hand around the back of Shi Meng’s neck and tilting in to reach those moist, soft lips. He didn’t forget to “bring up old scores” during a gasp, asking fiercely, “Who is your friend?”
He was referring to the excuse Shi Meng gave Jiang Xue on the way back. Shi Meng didn’t respond. He wrapped his arms around Fu Xuanliao’s neck, tilting his head back, eagerly pursuing him.
Fu Xuanliao, addicted to being mean, persisted: “So you kiss and sleep with ordinary friends?”
He didn’t know why he asked this, but he minded it. It bothered him deep down, so he just blurted it out.
Shi Meng clearly had no time to delve into the reasons behind the question. Assuming he was being challenged, he urgently sought to regain the initiative, kissing him almost recklessly, like a fish out of water.
In a moment of carelessness, the other man caught his lower lip and sucked hard. Fu Xuanliao hissed, almost wanting to ask Shi Meng if he was a dog in his past life, he loved biting so much.
Countless instances of skin-to-skin contact had developed a physical rapport between them. Just as Fu Xuanliao was about to ask if they should move to the bed, Shi Meng suddenly spoke: “Three minutes left.”
“…What?”
“The birthday. Only the last three minutes.”
Realizing what he meant, Fu Xuanliao couldn’t help but laugh: “It’s just a birthday, are you counting it down to the second?”
Shi Meng didn’t answer his question, but instead asked himself, “Are you happy?”
Fu Xuanliao was confused again: “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? It’s your birthday.”
Strangely, not only that word “friend,” but he was also forced to dwell on the gift situation. While showering, he had been thinking—it was his birthday, wasn’t it too…
His unnecessary internal struggle was interrupted by a voice.
“I’m happy,” Shi Meng said. “I’m very happy.”
Shi Meng’s world didn’t have so many twists and turns. His every thought could be directly and clearly linked to his actions—you can’t be angry on your birthday, you must hold onto what you like, and your happiness equals my happiness.
He noticed that Fu Xuanliao’s attitude toward him had improved today, and he firmly believed this was all thanks to going to the Amusement Park.
Through a layer of hazy mist, Shi Meng looked at Fu Xuanliao and spoke the words he didn’t have the chance to say ten years ago: “He won’t go with you, I will go with you.”
He doesn’t love you, but I do.