Sun Rain Chapter 38
byAdhering to the principle of not escalating the situation, Shi Huaiyi kept the truth hidden as much as possible, answering vaguely.
“Mu Mu found out five years ago after he fell ill. Because Yang Youlan, his birth mother, came to the hospital to do Bone Marrow Matching, I told her not to cause trouble, but she insisted she could save Mu Mu… Only later, when I pressed her, did she admit that she was Mu Mu’s mother.”
“It was also then that I learned the two children had been switched. You know the rest—both are my children, and I didn’t want Mu Mu to rest uneasily underground, so I chose to keep the peace.”
Fu Xuanliao considered this: “Was the decision to conceal this solely yours, or did Shi Mu also ask you to do it?”
Shi Huaiyi looked troubled: “I certainly thought so, and I told you the reasons. However, Mu Mu also didn’t want this matter to be revealed to the public. He was close to death then, and I couldn’t bear to refuse him, so I promised to keep it as quiet as possible.”
Fu Xuanliao pursed his lips. This outcome was within his predictions, but it still chilled him.
“As for stealing the painting…” Shi Huaiyi asked hesitantly, “Was it the one called ‘Flame’? Wasn’t that Mu Mu’s painting?”
“No,” Fu Xuanliao said. “That painting belonged to Shi Meng; he drew it back in middle school.”
Shi Huaiyi rarely concerned himself with his children’s art, so he genuinely seemed unaware and didn’t think it was very important.
He only paused for a moment, then sighed: “That was likely because he heard I was going to transfer shares to Meng Meng… It’s difficult for me; both are my flesh and blood. Regardless, I should give Meng Meng some family assets to rely on. Mu Mu probably felt I was being biased, and knowing his time was short, he acted out of spite…”
“Alas, they are family. How could that child treat his older brother like that?”
Before leaving the hospital, Fu Xuanliao walked toward Shi Meng’s room again.
Still unable to see him, he tried a compromise: “Could you help me pass on a message?”
Jiang Xue stood blocking the doorway, arms crossed. After a moment of hesitation, she asked, “What is it?”
“That painting… the one called ‘Flame.’ I already know Shi Meng painted it.”
Jiang Xue was startled at first, then scoffed: “You only just found out? But I heard the painting is gone. What, do you want to ask Meng Meng for another one?”
“No, that’s not it,” Fu Xuanliao said. “I want to tell him I’m sorry.”
He was, after all, a man accustomed to pride. Being dragged to the brink of death, yet instead of seeking retribution, he repeatedly came to the hospital, apologizing humbly. Even Jiang Xue’s attitude softened slightly, especially since he had been kept in the dark about the Plagiarism himself.
However, Jiang Xue glanced back into the room, then returned to her cold demeanor: “You should say that to his face. Besides, what good is saying it now?”
Fu Xuanliao didn’t know if her “no good” referred to the apology being too late or something else.
Remembering Jiang Xue’s previous comment that Shi Meng “always keeps everything bottled up,” Fu Xuanliao opened his mouth for a long time, only managing to ask: “Doesn’t he… feel wronged?”
Misunderstood for so many years, trampled upon and humiliated by him countless times, and never given a chance to explain—why didn’t he seize the opportunity to retaliate, hit him, curse him, or simply throw him into the sea?
The more Shi Meng ignored and didn’t respond, the more the overwhelming guilt suffocated Fu Xuanliao.
“Wronged?” Jiang Xue laughed. “He doesn’t understand what being wronged means.”
“Being falsely accused of stealing a painting… how could he not feel wronged?”
“But for something to be called a false accusation, someone first has to believe he is innocent, believe he was framed,” Jiang Xue said. “Did you believe him?”
“I…” Fu Xuanliao was speechless.
For all those years, he truly had never believed Shi Meng, not even once.
In reality, Shi Meng’s reaction back then was entirely reasonable—Shi Mu falsely claimed the painting was stolen, and Shi Meng’s first reaction was anger, rushing to snatch the painting back.
So he snatched it, and he tried to tell everyone that the painting was his, not Shi Mu’s.
But everyone believed Shi Mu, thinking that only Shi Meng, the despicable villain jealous of Shi Mu’s talent, would commit Plagiarism.
Jiang Xue turned her head to check, confirming Shi Meng was still asleep, then said, “When he was awake earlier, I asked him if he was sad. He said he stopped being sad a long time ago.”
Trapped in the dark, muddy memories, Fu Xuanliao’s body suddenly shook.
“He isn’t sad because no one cared for him. Similarly, he won’t feel wronged, because no one stood on his side.”
Around eight in the evening, Shi Meng woke from a short sleep and saw Jiang Xue sitting by the bed, fiddling with her laptop.
They looked at each other for two seconds. Jiang Xue smiled and said, “Did the sound of my typing wake you up?”
Shi Meng denied it: “No, I woke up myself.”
Jiang Xue put down the laptop and walked over, pressing the button to adjust the bed higher, placing a pillow so Shi Meng could lean comfortably against the headboard. She asked if he wanted to eat anything.
“I’m not hungry.” Shi Meng still lacked energy. “Sister Xue, you should go back. I can take care of myself.”
“Tsk.” Jiang Xue rolled her eyes. “I finally got you to say a sentence longer than ten characters, and it’s to chase me away.”
She continued, “I’m doing great here. This companion bed is more comfortable than my own. Don’t worry about me; just focus on recovering.”
Seeing her insistence, Shi Meng said no more.
Since he wasn’t sleepy, the two chatted for a bit.
“The commemorative coin you gave me,” Shi Meng said, “I used it to trade for a boat.”
He felt he should explain using a gift given by someone else without permission, but Jiang Xue didn’t mind at all: “Go ahead and trade it. When I gave it to you, I said gold holds its value and you could exchange it for money. That boat must be quite big, right?”
Shi Meng thought for a moment: “About ten meters long.”
“Not bad,” Jiang Xue said, smiling. “At least it was put to good use.”
After a few minutes of silence, Jiang Xue, who was sitting by the bed peeling an apple, asked casually, “Did you really burn that painting?”
Shi Meng hummed in affirmation.
Jiang Xue sighed, lamenting, “It was bought for ten million, after all.”
After a brief silence, Shi Meng said, “Before, he was priceless.”
“And now?”
“Worthless.”
“So you burned it?”
“Yes.” Shi Meng took the apple Jiang Xue offered him with his left hand. “I said goodbye to him.”
Jiang Xue wasn’t sure if Shi Meng meant “him” or “it,” or both. Seeing that Shi Meng had truly let go this time, she felt relieved.
“But I don’t think he was completely without feelings for you…”
Perhaps thinking of Fu Xuanliao’s actions over the past few days, Jiang Xue realized halfway through that she was bringing up a sore subject and changed tack, “Forget it, why bring that up now? When you get discharged, I’ll throw you a grand party to celebrate being single again and regaining your freedom!”
Shi Meng seriously considered it: “No need. He and I were never actually together.”
It was always him forcing the issue, so he accepted the current retribution and consequences entirely.
Hearing this made Jiang Xue feel heartbroken. Thinking of her own situation, her eyes welled up, and she forced a smile: “That’s even better! Our Meng Meng has always been single; his first love is still intact!”
The two tacitly avoided discussing Shi Meng’s background. Instead, Jiang Xue, concerned about the shares, asked Shi Meng if there was any way to get them back.
“Those are the Shi family shares,” Jiang Xue couldn’t help but worry like a mother hen, seeing Shi Meng’s lack of interest. “With that ten percent, even if you just lie at home and sleep all day, money will still pour down on your head.”
Shi Meng blinked slowly, unable to picture that scene.
However, he generally understood that Jiang Xue was worried about his future livelihood.
“I can paint; I can support myself,” he said, raising the hand holding the apple. “If my right hand doesn’t work, I can use my left.”
Seeing that he hadn’t developed any nihilistic thoughts because of his hand injury, Jiang Xue breathed another sigh of relief.
She told Shi Meng that Teacher Ma had visited during the days he was unconscious. They had discussed this issue then and even spoke specifically with the attending physician.
Jiang Xue reported the good news: “The doctor said that as long as you undergo proper physical therapy, there’s a great chance of recovering to your original state.”
Shi Meng nodded, seemingly convinced: “I will do physical therapy.”
“It’s proper physical therapy.”
“I will do proper physical therapy.”
“Good boy.”
Later that evening, Jiang Xue, feeling reassured, decided to go home for a while.
“You wouldn’t believe how poor the quality of the goods is in the shops here. I bought a towel yesterday to wipe my face, and today I broke out in bumps all over.”
As Jiang Xue walked out, she didn’t forget to instruct Shi Meng: “I’ve hung up the Do Not Disturb sign, and I’ve spoken to the nurses’ station. No one should be tactless enough to bother you at this hour. If someone does, just press the call button and have the nurse sister chase them out.”
Shi Meng agreed.
After Jiang Xue left, he leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, falling into a very short dream.
In the dream, a child was facing away from him, seemingly severely injured, hugging himself and sobbing.
He wanted to tell the child that since he survived, he should walk forward, pass through that door, and never look back. He reached out, just about to pat the child’s shoulder, when he heard a few soft knocks on the door.
This time, he was truly woken up.
Shi Meng vaguely thought he had slept for a long time, long enough for Sister Xue to return. He propped himself up, intending to get out of bed, but remembered the door wasn’t locked, so he called out, “Come in.”
Afraid that Sister Xue would scold him again for not taking care of himself, Shi Meng moved back onto the bed, covered himself with the messy thin blanket, and then turned to check if the apple had been thoroughly eaten.
During this process, he heard the door being pushed open from the outside, making a faint creaking sound.
Having tidied up and turned to face the door, Shi Meng froze at the sight of a face different from the one he expected.
The person who entered was a middle-aged woman. Shi Meng remembered her as not only tall and beautiful but also gentle and elegant, like a celestial fairy.
Even though she was now wearing a patient gown, walking with difficulty, and her originally dark hair seemed to hide a few strands of white, Shi Meng still remembered that she made very delicious soup.
Very delicious soup. Even if she just casually shared a bowl with him, with the cold soup covering the settled residue at the bottom, he wouldn’t bear to waste it, drinking every last drop.
But now, he didn’t want to drink it anymore.
Li Bihan stood a short distance from the bed, watching him motionlessly.
In her eyes was a trembling sheen of water, and also the tenderness Shi Meng had once yearned for so deeply.
Perhaps there were too many things in her gaze that he couldn’t understand. Shi Meng’s hand moved backward along the sheet, starting to hesitate about whether to press the call button.
He didn’t press it, because Li Bihan spoke first, taking a step forward.
“I… I just came to see you.” Her voice was trembling. “I’ll be, be leaving soon.”
Shi Meng didn’t know what had happened after he left the hospital, but from what Fu Xuanliao told him on the boat and Jiang Xue’s deliberate avoidance, it wasn’t hard to guess that the truth about his birth had been exposed.
It seemed his guess was correct. Shi Meng didn’t know what to say and wasn’t good at superficial small talk. A slight hesitation caused him to miss the best time to press the call button.
Seeing his silence, Li Bihan took it as tacit permission. She slowly walked closer, leaning on the armrest to sit on the chair by the bed, her gaze fixed on Shi Meng.
From eight to twenty-five, time had flown by. Only now was she truly looking at this child for the first time.
Shi Meng’s face was small, and his features were beautiful. She remembered when he was first born, the nurse praised how good-looking he was, saying he would be fair and adorable once the redness faded.
But Li Bihan was immersed in the misery of the mistress showing up and the child being a Premature Baby. She hadn’t even taken a good look, otherwise…
She recalled that when Shi Meng first arrived at the Shi family, uninformed guests often mistook him for her son based on appearance. Li Bihan couldn’t help but smile bitterly, thinking, what good would one more look have done? She had covered her eyes and blinded her heart; no matter what others said, she wouldn’t listen.
Twenty-five-year-old Shi Meng had grown to nearly 1.8 meters, but his frame was thin. The patient gown hung loosely on him, with only the prominent bones of his shoulder blades creating bumps.
His neck was long and slender, so white that clear veins were visible. His wrists were also thin, the wrist bone protruding prominently at the junction of his hand and arm. The cuff exposed an area of bruising that hadn’t faded, indicating that many other injuries were hidden beneath his clothes.
Without thinking, Li Bihan asked, “Does it still hurt?”
She instinctively reached out, wanting to touch him, to stroke him with the lightest touch, as every mother should when facing an injured child.
Just as she was about to make contact, Shi Meng pulled his hand away, avoiding her.
Shi Meng couldn’t adjust quickly; he clearly couldn’t emotionally transition into a state of naturally accepting her.
He hid his left hand behind his back, clasping his bandaged right hand, his fingers tightly intertwined, his gaze fixed on the blanket covering his legs.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he said subconsciously. “I don’t hurt.”
Seeming to know Shi Meng was lying, Li Bihan’s breathing hitched, and the tide in her eyes surged again.
He had been like this since childhood. To gain a space to survive in the Shi family, he was always so “sensible,” and his most frequent answers were always “no,” “it doesn’t hurt,” and “I’m not sad.”
“H-how can it not hurt?” Li Bihan asked anxiously. “I know an orthopedic specialist. Tomorrow, you’ll transfer there for treatment. Your hand can definitely…”
“No need,” Shi Meng said. “Thank you.”
Hearing Shi Meng thank her so formally, Li Bihan’s heart twisted painfully again.
She remembered Shi Meng once calling her “Mom,” more than once at Shi Huaiyi’s insistence. When Shi Meng was little, he called her timidly, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard, never responding. When he was older, he occasionally called her at Shi Huaiyi’s request, but she only treated it as an act, never taking it to heart.
Now, she wanted to hear it, but couldn’t.
Li Bihan began to understand why she had resisted seeing Shi Meng these past two days. She feared the world completely overturning, and even more, she feared the consequences of years of cold indifference that she couldn’t bear.
It wasn’t until the evening, when she secretly overheard Fu Xuanliao and Shi Huaiyi’s conversation in the hallway, that she realized how terribly wrong she had been. The depth of her past affection for Shi Mu was now matched by the pain she felt for Shi Meng.
Everyone said Shi Meng was gloomy and unlikable, but no one had ever put themselves in his shoes and considered that his lack of cheerfulness stemmed from not being treated properly.
It’s not too late, Li Bihan thought. It’s still not too late. Heaven had been kind to her, at least not letting her be wrong until the very end.
“Mom… no, I know you were bullied. Shi Mu bullied you, and Shi Sihui too… I will help you punish her.” She had come here determined, laying out every possible remedy she could think of. “I’ll also give the shares back to you. I still have eight percent in my hands; I’ll transfer that to your name too. Everything I have is yours.”
She wanted to say, everything your mother has is yours. Whatever you want, your mother will make it happen for you.
But Shi Meng interpreted her words differently. After all, in his world, there was no unconditional love, only equivalent exchange after careful consideration.
So he asked, “Do you want me to help Shi Sihui escape punishment, or help Shi Mu conceal the Plagiarism?”
Li Bihan was stunned by the question: “No, that’s not what I meant. I just…”
She just knew she was wrong, wishing she could go back in time and slap herself, and wishing she could compensate Shi Meng for everything she hadn’t given him over the years, all at once.
Including maternal love.
Shi Meng also recalled the past.
He remembered developing a fondness for Li Bihan when he first arrived at the Shi family, wanting to get close to her for no reason. On a Mother’s Day in elementary school, he had personally drawn her a card.
Because even though Li Bihan didn’t seem to like him much, she wasn’t bad to him. If Shi Mu got a new school bag, he did too. If Shi Mu learned soccer, he could learn painting. Every time new toys were bought, he had a share. Shi Meng thought the Fairy Auntie was kind, especially since even Yang Youlan said Li Bihan should be very mean to him, starve him daily, and beat him up constantly.
Later, Li Bihan accepted that Mother’s Day card. Perhaps she felt awkward refusing it in front of Shi Huaiyi. In any case, that same evening, Shi Meng saw the card in the trash can.
He stood by the trash can for a long time but still didn’t pick up the card he had spent hours making.
Since childhood, people around Shi Meng had called him clumsy—clumsy in social graces, and slow-witted in a way that made him unlikable without realizing it. But he knew that if he gave her the card now, Li Bihan definitely wouldn’t throw it away.
But he didn’t have the strength to make a new one.
He didn’t think she was wrong; he just didn’t want to be abandoned again.
“I cannot help you with these two matters,” Shi Meng said.
“I’m not asking you to help me,” Li Bihan explained. “I’m helping you.”
Shi Meng said expressionlessly, “No need.”
“Then what do you want? I can…”
“Can you turn back time?” Not wanting to be entangled further, Shi Meng asked coldly, “Can you make everyone who bullied me suffer punishment?”
Li Bihan froze.
Shi Meng had already died once. This world was no different to him than heaven or hell. He merely existed here; what happened to others no longer concerned him.
Moreover, who else “bullied” the dead Shi Meng besides the two of them?
Without waiting for Li Bihan to say anything more, Shi Meng announced, “I need to sleep now.”
Faced with his stiff dismissal, Li Bihan felt bitter. About five minutes later, she finally stood up.
Shi Meng lay on his side, his back to her. Based on the rise and fall of his breathing, it was impossible to tell if he was asleep or awake.
Taking one last look through the half-closed door, Li Bihan gently shut it.
Turning around, she took a deep breath in the hallway, swallowing her tears, while already having made up her mind.