Sun Rain Chapter 6
byThe wrist suddenly went slack. In the darkness, the sound, magnified countless times, knocked open the door sealed deep within his heart, abruptly pulling Fu Xuanliao into the torrent of the past, recalling a scene strikingly similar to the present.
Four years ago, in the summer, Fengcheng welcomed a brief rainy season.
The weather outside was muggy, but the hospital room remained cold and desolate, due to the silence and the endless stream of critical condition notices arriving like snowflakes. Fu Xuanliao had rushed back from abroad, canceling all gatherings and engagements, standing motionless like a statue by the door of the hospital room.
“Everyone who could be tested for Bone Marrow Matching has been called in, and we can’t find a match in the bone marrow bank either.” Shi Huaiyi patted Fu Xuanliao’s shoulder with a resigned air. “In his final days, stay with him, and try to make him happy.”
During the visiting hours that day, Shi Mu, lying on the hospital bed, said, “I regret it.”
His voice was very faint, forcing Fu Xuanliao to lean closer to hear.
“I was too cowardly,” Shi Mu’s face was pale, his breath weak as a thread. “Every day after you left, I regretted it.”
Fearing that he would exhaust himself by speaking too much, Fu Xuanliao replied, “I know, I know everything.”
The fact that the Shi family heir was gravely ill and did not have long to live was no secret in the circle. With Fu Xuanliao’s return, the past events were also dug up, roots and all.
The Shi and Fu families had been close for many years, maintaining frequent contact. Their descendants were also of similar age, and it was widely believed that a strong alliance would lead to mutual success. People in the circle had once predicted that the two families would surely form a Marriage Alliance.
Unexpectedly, the matchmaker found the right families but tied the wrong thread. Fu Xuanliao, the only son of the Fu family, ignored the Shi family’s eldest daughter and instead fell deeply in love with the Shi family’s young master.
Childhood sweethearts who grew up together, classmates who were inseparable… Rumor had it that Fu Xuanliao giving up studying abroad and Shi Mu skipping two grades were both done so they could be together.
No one knew when it started, but everyone tacitly assumed they were a couple. Later, when Fu Xuanliao left the country for studies without a word, people simply thought Young Master Fu was preparing to inherit the family business, and the two were merely enduring a long-distance relationship.
Shi Mu offered a strained smile at this. “They only guessed half of it right.”
At that time, they were both young, still naive about romance. The surging crowd pushed them to the forefront, exposing them to the sunlight. Societal pressure, parental disapproval, and confusion about the future easily shattered their fragile relationship.
Shi Mu was the first to retreat. He rejected Fu Xuanliao’s advances and ignored Fu Xuanliao’s Coming Out, leaving Fu Xuanliao disheartened enough to agree to his family’s arrangements.
At the time, he thought that separating for a while would be good for both of them, but fate was cruel. By the time he returned, Shi Mu was about to leave this world.
“It’s all my fault.” Perhaps those nearing death are prone to self-reflection; though no one mentioned it, Shi Mu still couldn’t forgive himself. “If I had been a little braver back then, maybe everything would have been different.”
The illness was aggressive, leaving no time for reminiscence.
Fu Xuanliao wanted to seize the last moments to fulfill Shi Mu’s wishes. Through various contacts, he learned that registration for a certain quadrennial painting competition was imminent. Shi Mu had always wanted to win an award in this competition and had been actively preparing before his hospitalization.
Logically, with ample time, the entry should have been at least half-finished. But when Fu Xuanliao asked Shi Mu, the latter gave a bitter smile, shook his head, and said he wouldn’t participate.
Only after Fu Xuanliao pressed him repeatedly did he learn that the work he had spent many days and nights on had been stolen.
“It wasn’t Plagiarism, it was outright Theft,” Shi Mu’s mother, Li Bihan, wiped away tears. “Your uncle favors that bastard and said he’d give him shares, so he’s become lawless and arrogant at home. He’s capable of such malicious things.”
Hearing the word “bastard,” Fu Xuanliao was first stunned, then remembered that there was indeed such a person in the Shi family.
That person had also grown up in the Shi family since childhood, yet he was like a shadow, his footsteps silent, his breathing lighter than the wind.
He was much smaller and thinner than his peers, always quietly following behind them, shrinking into a corner as if he had nowhere to go. If asked what he was doing, he wouldn’t speak, his large, distinct black and white eyes staring intently, which made people uncomfortable, yet they couldn’t bear to drive him away.
Initially, Fu Xuanliao couldn’t connect the painting thief with the child who had such a low presence, until he went to the school’s art room, intending to ask if the story was true. As soon as he started to speak, the boy named Shi Meng jumped up, spread his arms to block the easel, his eyes full of vigilance.
In the years Fu Xuanliao was away, the child had grown quickly. The once short, thin, sickly boy was now tall and slender, his features more defined, increasingly delicate and handsome.
But the bottom right corner of the painting clearly bore the character “Mu.” Having known Shi Mu for years, Fu Xuanliao naturally wouldn’t mistake his handwriting.
At the time, Fu Xuanliao still treated Shi Meng like a child. “Stealing your brother’s things when you were little was impolite. Stealing now will land you in jail.”
He expected Shi Meng to be intimidated, but instead, the boy became even more defiant. “He’s the one who should be in jail, not me.”
Later, events unfolded beyond everyone’s expectations. Shi Meng actually used the stolen painting to enter the competition and successfully reached the finals. If Fu Xuanliao hadn’t interfered and obstructed him in every way possible, he might have won a decent prize with that painting.
However, that was all he could do. It was already impossible to reclaim the Right of Authorship.
“He’s always loved imitating my style. The painting is in his hands now, so nothing I say matters,” Shi Mu said helplessly. “Forget it, he’s still my brother. Let him have it.”
He said he didn’t care, but Fu Xuanliao could see Shi Mu’s pain and torment. He often stared blankly out the window, remaining depressed in his final days on earth, life draining from him at an alarming speed.
He ultimately did not survive to see the cool, refreshing autumn.
Only on his deathbed did Shi Mu reveal the truth: “That painting… I drew it for you. I thought of you, stroke by stroke, as I painted it.”
“Don’t forget me…” In the last few minutes of his life, Shi Mu, barely breathing, tightly clutched Fu Xuanliao’s hand, repeating, “Don’t forget me, don’t forget me, okay?”
It was precisely because he couldn’t forget that after Shi Mu’s burial, Fu Xuanliao, unwilling to give up, sought out Shi Meng once more.
“He was your brother, and that was the last painting he left behind.” Fu Xuanliao suppressed his grief. “He was so good to you… Give me his painting.”
Upon hearing this, Shi Meng first widened his eyes in confusion, then, instead of showing guilt, he began to laugh. “He’s dead, he’s dead, isn’t he?”
Fu Xuanliao had never seen him laugh like this—reckless and cruel. As he laughed, he choked up, tears sliding down the corners of his eyes.
“It’s mine. No one is allowed to take it.” He hugged the painting tightly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Fu Xuanliao. “It’s all mine… mine.”
After that, everything went downhill rapidly.
The Fu family ran into trouble. Shi Huaiyi offered assistance in exchange for a ten-year contract. The moment he signed his name, Fu Xuanliao finally understood that Shi Meng wanted far more than just that painting.
He was much more terrifying than imagined. The quiet child who used to trail behind people in his youth was long gone.
Perhaps that was merely his disguise, a phantom shadow. He was inherently this greedy and insatiable; everything Shi Mu had possessed, he wanted to claim for himself.
And Fu Xuanliao was just a toy Shi Meng had set his sights on. Because Shi Mu had once possessed his love, Shi Meng had to obtain it too.
Therefore, the beginning of this relationship had nothing to do with love—Fu Xuanliao told himself this as he broke free from his memories, his hands gripping Shi Meng’s fragile neck.
But what was the use? The person was gone, and the events had already transpired. Any struggle or calculation now was futile.
In the end, Fu Xuanliao released his grip, letting go of the deeply sinful and unrepentant person before him.
He had long been disappointed in this inherently selfish and malicious person.
The sudden rush of air into his throat made Shi Meng cough uncontrollably. His weak body slid slowly down the wall, yet even then, he clung to Fu Xuanliao’s wrist, refusing to let go.
This time, it was Fu Xuanliao who laughed. He tugged at the corner of his mouth and whispered, “Shi Meng, stop being crazy.”
The mere act of pulling his hand away felt like it exhausted all his strength. Fu Xuanliao felt utterly weary.
Before turning to leave, he took a deep breath and told Shi Meng, “It’s not yours. It will never belong to you.”
A small-scale scene, it only alarmed two people besides the participants.
Gao Lecheng, who had been hiding at the bar drinking and flirting, rushed over upon hearing the commotion, looking terrified as he saw Fu Xuanliao emerge. “You didn’t… kill him, did you?”
The liquid sliding down the back of his hand cooled and then evaporated in the air. Fu Xuanliao shook his head, saying nothing.
Jiang Xue ran in with a clatter of high heels. When she helped Shi Meng out, she shot Gao Lecheng a fierce glare, as if scolding him for his ill-omened words.
The four people split into two groups, neither wanting to say goodbye to the other.
When they reached a secluded spot, Jiang Xue unceremoniously yanked open Shi Meng’s deliberately raised collar, revealing the horrifying blue and purple bruises mottled across his pale neck. Furious, she was about to go find Fu Xuanliao to settle the score, but Shi Meng grabbed her hand. She heard a faint voice: “Don’t go. I’m not hurt, Sis, don’t go looking for him.”
Jiang Xue was angry at his lack of backbone. She stomped her foot, gritting her teeth. “Who cares if you’re hurt or not? I’m going to find a cloth to cover you up. I was just bragging to people that you’re more beautiful than your painting, look at your ugly state now!”
Shi Meng looked up at the glass window. The person reflected inside was ashen-faced, looking withered and haggard, barely distinguishable from a corpse.
Perhaps afraid of burdening him psychologically, Jiang Xue later changed her tone. “But you have good features. An extra mark on your neck just looks like you’re wearing a choker. It’s pretty.”
Despite saying that, when she managed to get medicinal wine from a hotel attendant, Jiang Xue carefully dabbed the wound with a cotton ball. As she applied the medicine, her eyes welled up. Afraid Shi Meng would see, she turned her head and muttered, “He calls you precious… Is this how he treasures you?”
After the banquet, the painting titled “Flame” was wrapped securely layer upon layer and loaded into Jiang Xue’s SUV.
The auction house staff even tied a large red ribbon onto the oilskin paper, celebrating the successful transaction.
Jiang Xue, however, couldn’t feel happy. On the drive back, she complained about the exorbitant commission. Seeing Shi Meng leaning back in the seat with his eyes closed, showing no intention of speaking, she stopped trying to make conversation and focused on driving.
When they reached the gate of the Shi family mansion, as Shi Meng was getting out of the car, Jiang Xue suddenly recalled their last conversation. “Have you thought about moving out?”
Shi Meng paused for less than two seconds, then quickly replied, “No, I’ll still live here.”
“For the sake of that Fu guy?”
Shi Meng didn’t answer this time.
In fact, Jiang Xue knew without him saying it that his insistence on staying here could only be for Fu Xuanliao.
The only thing between him and Fu Xuanliao was that agreement. If he didn’t stay in the Shi family, under the nose of the person who set the rules for him, whether that agreement could be smoothly fulfilled was unknown.
He could not bear any more uncertainty, so he had to put a leash on Fu Xuanliao, simultaneously trapping himself in place, unable to move.
Getting out of the car, Shi Meng lifted the painting from the back seat. Just as he stood upright, holding it in his arms, the cool autumn night wind hitting his face made him shiver.
He had only walked a few steps when he heard the sound of the car door opening behind him. Jiang Xue leaned out and shouted at him, “Does it really have to be him?”
Her next sentence was louder. “Can’t you choose someone else?”
They weren’t far apart, so there was no need to shout so loudly. Shi Meng replied in a very soft voice, “No.”
Jiang Xue started to express her frustration again. “What’s so great about him? He’s just handsome and has a bit of money! You’re not bad either; you pulled out ten million just like that, he couldn’t even outbid you.”
Shi Meng knew Jiang Xue was trying to cheer him up.
So, with his body covered in new and old wounds, he turned around amidst the rustling wind and said, “Everything about him is good.”
Recalling the look in Fu Xuanliao’s eyes a few hours ago—a look that wished he could strangle him for the painting in his arms—Shi Meng lifted the corners of his mouth slightly, smiling like an ordinary person in love. “Even the way he looks so devoted to that other person… is so good.”