Sun Rain Chapter 67
byChapter 67: Extra 3: Good Times (Free Chapter)
Shi Meng didn’t like accompanying Fu Xuanliao to social engagements.
Strictly speaking, Shi Meng disliked businessmen. They were either cunning or treacherous, slick or shifty-eyed, reeking of money—none of them were good people.
Jiang Xue was the exception.
Fu Xuanliao was also, barely, the exception.
Therefore, whenever Fu Xuanliao was shuttling between various conference rooms, so busy that sitting down for a proper meal was a luxury, Shi Meng would “reluctantly” accommodate his schedule and wait in the company lobby to have dinner with him.
During the wait, he would pull out his small notebook and casually sketch a few lines.
Today he was drawing a potted green plant placed at the reception desk. A new leaf was shyly unfolding halfway. Shi Meng quickly outlined the shape and was about to add details when he sensed a gaze directed at him from the side.
He turned his head and met that gaze. Before Shi Meng could speak, the young man who had been “peeking” at his drawing spoke first.
“That’s really well drawn,” the man said, smiling with curved eyes. “Are you a student at a nearby art academy?”
Shi Meng was stunned for a moment, then said, “I’ve already graduated.” He paused, then added, “You look more like a student.”
Perhaps taking this as mutual flattery, the man laughed. “I graduated many years ago too. I’m so happy to hear you say that.”
The two exchanged names.
Shi Meng felt the other person’s name sounded familiar and asked, “Are you a movie star?”
Jiang Ruo’s eyes widened. “You’ve seen a movie I acted in?”
Shi Meng rarely watched movies; he had probably heard Jiang Ruo’s name because Jiang Xue had mentioned it to him.
In contrast, Jiang Ruo’s reaction after learning his name was Shi Meng was much bigger.
“I’ve seen your paintings, at an auction,” Jiang Ruo said excitedly. “You really are a painter!”
Shi Meng gave an “oh.” “You’re in investment.”
“No, no,” Jiang Ruo laughed. “I was accompanying someone to a social event and watched the auction on the side.”
Shi Meng suddenly understood. “Then you are also—”
Jiang Ruo finished his sentence. “Yes, I’m waiting for someone too.”
In truth, Shi Meng was extremely shy around strangers, and his usual way of dealing with people who tried to strike up a conversation was to ignore them completely.
Perhaps it was because Jiang Ruo didn’t look like a bad person, or perhaps it was the intuitive connection between fellow artists, but Shi Meng didn’t reject Jiang Ruo’s conversation, nor did he cover his sketchbook as he usually would.
Jiang Ruo looked at the plant in Shi Meng’s drawing and praised it sincerely. “It looks even more real than the actual plant at my house.”
He brought up the idea that the plant itself was art, and asked why. Shi Meng replied, “Take the leaf, for example. The fine serrations on the edge are for defense, and the slender tip is for drainage. It took hundreds of millions of years to evolve into its current shape.”
That’s why he was willing to spend time using lines and colors to depict a single leaf, as if recording a long, enduring legend.
Jiang Ruo was also quite moved. “No wonder every leaf is so beautiful.”
They chatted for a while longer, until the meeting upstairs concluded, and the elevator descended to the first floor. Several attendees walked from the car to the lobby.
Jiang Ruo looked up first, then rose to greet them. Shi Meng saw him say something to a man in a suit. The man looked over in their direction and gave Shi Meng a social nod.
Watching the two leave, Shi Meng saw their hands intertwined as they walked toward the door, completely unconcerned about onlookers.
Fu Xuanliao came downstairs only after finishing the closing work. Fearing Shi Meng was hungry, he quickly took him to a nearby restaurant for dinner.
While waiting for their food, Fu Xuanliao flipped through Shi Meng’s small notebook and asked, “Why didn’t you finish drawing this plant?”
Shi Meng said, “I met someone today and we chatted.”
Fu Xuanliao was greatly surprised. Shi Meng’s social circle was extremely narrow; he usually refused to go out and make friends, preferring to stay home and paint.
“Male or female? What kind of person is he?” Fu Xuanliao turned into a parent worried about his child making bad friends. “Is he trying to get close to you to ask for a painting?”
“Male,” Shi Meng glanced at him. “He looks more like a good person than you do.”
Fu Xuanliao: “…”
Hearing that the person was the same-sex partner of a collaborator who came to the company today, Fu Xuanliao remembered. “Oh, it’s Mr. Xi’s partner. I heard he’s an actor?”
Shi Meng nodded.
Fu Xuanliao slapped his thigh. “That’s great! You should interact with him more. Once you get familiar, it’ll be easier to negotiate with Mr. Xi and get him to concede more profit.”
Shi Meng glared at him, his contempt undisguised.
“This is called ‘diplomacy by the madam,’” Fu Xuanliao was used to being scorned and still grinned. “Of course, if diplomacy fails, it doesn’t matter. Just treat it as making a friend. That way, someone can keep you company when I’m busy.”
Shi Meng was noncommittal about this.
However, a blush crept up his ears, betrayed by Fu Xuanliao’s casual use of the word “madam.”
Making friends, however, was slightly difficult. They had parted in a hurry and hadn’t exchanged contact information.
Shi Meng saw Jiang Ruo again three months later at an art exhibition.
Shi Meng disliked drawing attention, so he deliberately chose the less crowded routes. He paused in front of a portrait, observing the painter’s coloring technique, when a glance out of the corner of his eye revealed that the person in front of another painting nearby looked familiar. Just as he stared for a moment, the owner of the back of the head seemed to sense it and turned around, then smiled at Shi Meng. “We meet again.”
This time, both of them had come alone. After touring the exhibition, they agreed to go to a nearby coffee shop.
Jiang Ruo said he had just finished filming a drama and had planned to sleep for three days and three nights, but he couldn’t sit still after one day of rest and went out to find an exhibition to pass the time.
Shi Meng said, “This is a portrait exhibition.”
“No wonder it’s all faces,” Jiang Ruo said. “There don’t seem to be any of your works inside?”
“I’m not good at painting portraits. I always struggle with them.”
“I see… I don’t understand painting, but when we learn dancing, if we encounter a difficult move, as long as we practice diligently, we will make some progress.”
Shi Meng felt comforted and said, “I’ve been practicing recently, but I can’t find a suitable model.”
Jiang Ruo asked, “What kind of model are you looking for?”
Studio models were often elderly people who were retired and earning extra money in their free time. Although art has no limits, painting them too often lacked novelty.
There was a ready-made model right beside him. Ever since the last portrait competition where he painted Fu Xuanliao, that guy had become addicted, constantly asking Shi Meng to paint him—in a suit, in a bathrobe, and sometimes wearing nothing at all… Whenever they started painting, their gazes would stick together like the positive and negative poles of a magnet, igniting a passionate spark. Once the brush was dropped, who remembered the painting?
Suddenly thinking of inappropriate scenes, Shi Meng picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee, pursing his lips uncomfortably.
“Preferably a young person,” Shi Meng looked up after calming down slightly. “Gender, appearance, and physique are not limited, but the temperament needs to have a sense of story.”
Jiang Ruo rested his chin on his hand in thought. “A sense of story… Some veteran actors in the industry should fit the requirement, but it’s difficult for young people, as they don’t have enough life experience accumulated.”
Shi Meng observed the person across from him for a while. “You have it.”
“What?”
“A sense of story,” Shi Meng pointed to Jiang Ruo’s eyes. “They are very beautiful.”
Jiang Ruo was a little flattered. “Really?”
Shi Meng nodded. “If you have time, I’d like to invite you…”
Before he could finish, Jiang Ruo quickly said, “I have time, plenty of time! When do you want to start? Morning, noon, or evening, I’m free!”
It turned out that one of the reasons Jiang Ruo started dancing was seeing a dancer leaping in a painting by a certain artist.
To this day, Jiang Ruo felt that having fleeting vitality captured and permanently preserved in a frame was the highest tribute to a dancer.
Shi Meng felt inexplicably pressured after learning this and emphasized, “I’m really not good at portraits…”
“It’s okay, I’m not good at modeling for others either.” Jiang Ruo waved his hand casually and began pulling at his collar, looking ready to sacrifice himself for art. “Should I go full nude or leave my pants on?”
“No, no, no, you don’t need to undress,” Shi Meng quickly stopped him. “We’re not painting the human body today.”
Jiang Ruo’s mouth couldn’t stay still. During the drawing process, he occasionally chatted with Shi Meng.
“Is this expression okay?”
“You can smile a little wider.”
“Wider… Hahahaha.”
“Too wide, pull it back a little… Wait, you pulled it back too much.”
During the break, Jiang Ruo rubbed his stiff cheeks and let out a long sigh. “I found that this profession has something in common with acting. The difficult part isn’t crying or throwing a tantrum, but restrained performance.”
For example, joy or sorrow that is hard to express, and unseen, intangible anticipation and longing.
Shi Meng couldn’t help him with this. He was a recorder of emotions, not a producer, but he had an obligation to help the model find the right feeling. So, after thinking for a moment, he said, “You can think about happy things.”
“Acting happy isn’t hard, the hard part is acting happy continuously.” The actor Jiang Ruo said this, but still rested his chin on his hand and fell into memory.
Then, thinking of something, the corners of his mouth visibly turned up, and his pupils scattered with tiny lights.
This time, he smiled for half an hour, which was enough for Shi Meng to complete the sketch and fill in the lines.
After they finished, even Shi Meng, who usually didn’t care about others, didn’t hesitate to praise him. “Just now, your smile was very beautiful.”
“Was it?” Jiang Ruo said. “I was thinking about the day he proposed to me.”
“…Proposed?”
“It was very cliché, roses, candles, a ring, and all that.”
Jiang Ruo looked a little embarrassed as he spoke, but the smile on his face didn’t diminish at all. “But it was so wonderful, so wonderful that every time I think of it, I feel incredibly happy.”
Proposal.
On the way back, Shi Meng’s mind was filled with these two words.
He opened his browser to search for the definition, then chewed on it repeatedly until the word was no longer unfamiliar to him.
He had planned to have dinner with his mother today. When he arrived, he first drank some soup. Li Bihan was now an expert cook, spending her days engrossed in making delicious food. Every time Shi Meng visited his mother, he felt like he gained at least three pounds.
This time, his mind was preoccupied, and he didn’t pay much attention to the taste. When Li Bihan asked what he was thinking about, Shi Meng blurted out blankly, “Proposal.”
Li Bihan was stunned. “Did Xuanliao propose to you?”
Shi Meng was also stunned, shaking his head hesitantly. “No.”
“Then are you planning to propose to him?”
“…I haven’t decided.”
Li Bihan’s expression was complex. “Mom thinks that as long as two people are happy together, they don’t necessarily need to be bound by marriage.”
After all, the constraint of a marriage certificate was very limited, and fate was not something that could be controlled by humans. Her own failed marriage was a bloody example.
Shi Meng knew his mother’s worry, but…
“I’m very happy now,” Shi Meng said. “If we could get married, it would be even better.”
Shi Meng liked making promises with people.
In his heart, life was composed of one promise after another, and the process of waiting for those promises to be fulfilled was the most beautiful time.
He used to look forward to Saturday; now he looked forward to forming a relationship with Fu Xuanliao centered on love.
But Shi Meng didn’t know how to propose. He didn’t dare ask Jiang Xue, so he had to ask Jiang Ruo for advice.
Jiang Ruo immediately became enthusiastic. “A proposal is great! The proactive party will have a higher status in the family later on.”
As for how to propose, Jiang Ruo dismissed his own unexecuted plan from back then. “Don’t make any short films or relationship review PowerPoints. You might accidentally turn it into a work report.”
He offered Shi Meng advice. “Why don’t you prepare a ring first? When the atmosphere is right, you can take it out and propose anytime.”
The two drove to the nearest jewelry store. The saleswoman heard they were buying wedding rings and enthusiastically showed Shi Meng several diamond rings with substantial carat weights, sparkling blindingly under the lights.
Jiang Ruo subtly prompted, “His partner is a man.”
The well-informed saleswoman immediately brought out several plain bands.
Shi Meng was almost overwhelmed. Although he was an artist, he had never had an eye for clothing or accessories; Jiang Xue often complained about his daily outfits.
Jiang Ruo, who was with him, didn’t dare offer random suggestions either. “It’s your partner, you know best what suits him.”
Shi Meng calmed down and observed them one by one. Finally, he reached out and pointed to the ring with the largest diamond. “I want this one.”
He chose this ring not because it suited Fu Xuanliao, but purely because it was the most expensive.
Shi Meng answered Jiang Ruo exactly what he was thinking. “The expensive one, it matches him.”
It was extremely simple and unpretentious, and Jiang Ruo was deeply impressed.
In the evening, when they finished up, they ran into Fu Xuanliao, who had come to pick Shi Meng up downstairs. Jiang Ruo winked at Shi Meng and gave him a thumbs-up, practically hanging a banner that read, “Wishing Mr. Shi Meng a successful proposal,” over his head.
Shi Meng appeared very calm about it, walking straight ahead, still that high-mountain mushroom.
In a place unseen, however, the palm of the hand clutching the velvet box in his pocket was sweating.
Fu Xuanliao was also a little off today.
He first took Shi Meng to dinner, and during the meal, he asked about the progress of the figure painting. Shi Meng said it was in the final stages, and Fu Xuanliao just nodded and said nothing more.
Normally, Fu Xuanliao would have to know exactly what the model wore today and what poses he struck. Even though he knew two zeros wouldn’t lead to anything, he would still take a sip of sour vinegar and emphasize his “official partner” status.
After dinner, the two returned home, parked the car in the underground garage, and walked to the ground level for a stroll.
This was a habit they had developed since autumn, and it was also a task Li Bihan had assigned Fu Xuanliao—to take Shi Meng out for two laps every day as exercise.
Shi Meng had been cooperative before, but today he had something on his mind. He walked two steps and stopped for half a minute, his steps and gaze drifting. Fu Xuanliao couldn’t help but worry.
“It’s getting late, let’s hurry up,” he checked his phone. “Auntie Li is going to check your WeChat step count later.”
Hearing this, Shi Meng pulled out his own phone and stuffed it into Fu Xuanliao’s pocket.
Fu Xuanliao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re good at saving effort. We still have a long way to go before we get home.”
Shi Meng turned his face away, ignoring him.
Fu Xuanliao sighed, unable to do anything about him. He walked in front of him, squatted down, scooped up his knees with both hands, and stood up abruptly.
The set of movements was smooth and flowing, but Shi Meng was still startled, gasping and quickly wrapping his arms around Fu Xuanliao’s neck.
Fu Xuanliao adjusted his grip on him, looked ahead, and announced, “Let’s go, we’re going home!”
Although this wasn’t the first time Fu Xuanliao had carried him on his back, it had always been in private places before.
Shi Meng looked around warily and kicked one leg. “There are people ahead.”
“So what if there are people?” Fu Xuanliao countered.
“They’ll see us.”
“Then let them see.”
Shi Meng was speechless, burying his head further into the crook of Fu Xuanliao’s neck.
Noticing his movement, Fu Xuanliao asked, “What, are you still shy?”
Shi Meng continued to play mute.
“You weren’t like this when you were teasing me in bed.”
Shi Meng still didn’t speak, only kicking his left leg hard to express his dissatisfaction, which drew a low laugh from Fu Xuanliao.
“That’s right, that’s how it should be,” Fu Xuanliao turned his head, a wisp of white mist dissipating into the cool air. “If you’re unhappy, tell me. Don’t keep it bottled up.”
“You should be happy every day from now on.”
Actually, Shi Meng felt he was quite happy before, even though he rarely recalled the past.
Fu Xuanliao carried him to the downstairs entrance. Shi Meng wanted to get down, but Fu Xuanliao refused, carrying him all the way into the elevator.
There was a decorative mirror in the car. Seeing himself clinging to Fu Xuanliao, Shi Meng felt even more embarrassed.
Fu Xuanliao even deliberately teased him. “Look, isn’t that my little mushroom who doesn’t want to walk in the mirror?”
Shi Meng “scolded” him. “Stinky rabbit.”
Fu Xuanliao added, “It’s the stinky rabbit who picks mushrooms.”
Shi Meng: “…”
How shameless.
Finally, they entered the house. Shi Meng was placed on the bed in the bedroom, and before he could relax, he was trapped in the small space by Fu Xuanliao, who flipped over and pressed down on him.
Fu Xuanliao supported himself on his arms beside Shi Meng. His scorching breath, along with the heat radiating from his body, wove a net that firmly locked Shi Meng in place.
Intuition told him that what Fu Xuanliao was about to say was very important. Shi Meng held his breath, his hand clutching his pocket involuntarily tightening.
The booming sound was either one of their heartbeats, or perhaps the two mixed together.
Fu Xuanliao was usually frivolous and carefree, but when he became serious, whatever he said seemed very credible.
He looked at Shi Meng, letting two tiny reflections of himself fall into Shi Meng’s slightly trembling pupils.
“The rabbit safely brought the little mushroom home,” he asked. “Shouldn’t the little mushroom pledge himself to the rabbit?”
The two looked at each other for a long time before Shi Meng found his voice. “…How do I pledge myself?”
Fu Xuanliao freed one hand and pulled a ring from his pants pocket.
It was a platinum plain band, with faint patterns carved into the ring, inlaid with a few small diamonds—a design that was sophisticated yet not too flashy.
Shi Meng stared at it unblinkingly, as if he couldn’t move.
His overly serious look made Fu Xuanliao want to tease him again.
He asked Shi Meng, “Do you want it?”
Shi Meng was stunned, then looked up, his gaze fixed on Fu Xuanliao’s face again.
He just looked at Fu Xuanliao with wide, quiet eyes, neither nodding nor shaking his head, neither saying no nor yes, as if leaving everything to Fu Xuanliao to decide.
His dark eyes held a pool of water, the edges of his pupils seemingly wrapped in a fuzzy border, making Fu Xuanliao’s heart soften and melt.
Fu Xuanliao leaned in and took Shi Meng’s hand resting on the edge of the bed.
The ring, warmed by body temperature, was pushed from the tip of his ring finger to the base, making his fingers look even more slender and long.
“Yes, you want it,” Fu Xuanliao decisively made the decision for Shi Meng. “Look, the size is perfect.”
Later, when Fu Xuanliao received the large diamond ring from Shi Meng’s hand, his eyes widened like brass bells, and he deeply experienced the feeling of a celebrity marrying into a wealthy family and receiving a massive diamond.
Then he thought his own plain band was inadequate. Fu Xuanliao reached out to take off the ring on Shi Meng’s ring finger. “I’ll get you a massive diamond too…”
But Shi Meng covered his hand, refusing. “Don’t change it, I like it.”
The little mushroom rarely said he liked something out loud; saying so meant he liked it immensely.
Fu Xuanliao was relieved and continued to examine his own large diamond ring. The more he looked at it, the more pleasing it became, even giving rise to a sense of vanity he couldn’t place.
Fu Xuanliao picked up his phone, opened Moments, and posted a new update—a photo of the ring on his finger and a triumphant, toothy grin emoji.
Friends and family from all over sent congratulations. Gao Lecheng gave a thumbs-up, Jiang Xue called him a show-off, and even his mother-in-law chimed in. Li Bihan: Come over tomorrow if you’re free, I need to talk to you. [Smiling face]
It wasn’t anything serious, just going to eat a loving meal prepared by his mother-in-law, and thanking her for “tipping him off” and urging him to speed up the process.
At the dinner table, Fu Xuanliao, who couldn’t eat spicy food, was choked by the table full of red peppers, his nose flaring and throat smoking, as the price for stealing her precious son. When the kindly smiling Li Bihan asked about the proposal details, he quickly raised his hand. “The process isn’t complete yet. I’ll report back to you later.”
It turned out that even someone as dashing as Fu Xuanliao couldn’t avoid the clichés and had prepared fireworks, roses, and a band, but they hadn’t been used that day because Shi Meng was distracted.
Taking advantage of the fact that both of them were free today, Fu Xuanliao took Shi Meng to the previous restaurant. Standing on the outdoor terrace, he snapped his fingers, soft music began to play, and blooming fireworks illuminated the silent night.
Shi Meng looked up at the sky. Reflected in the colorful firelight, his usually indifferent face was tinged with color, becoming vivid.
The next second, Shi Meng’s waist was wrapped in a pair of arms from behind, pulling him firmly into Fu Xuanliao’s warm embrace.
Shi Meng allowed him to hold him, commenting on the “proposal” display in front of them. “You’re so cheesy.”
“I prepared this a long time ago, not because Auntie Li reminded me,” Fu Xuanliao murmured against his shoulder. “Everything others have, you should have too.”
Shi Meng pursed his lips, a shallow curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
His ring-adorned hand covered Fu Xuanliao’s hand wrapped around his waist. In the pause between the fireworks, Shi Meng whispered, “I have things others don’t, too.”
People said Shi Meng was eccentric and unconventional, someone whose emotions wouldn’t be swayed by worldly affairs.
However, no one knew that on the night he was proposed to, Shi Meng was so excited he couldn’t sleep. He put on his headphones to listen to music, and even a gentle serenade sounded like a stampede of ten thousand horses to him.
He somewhat understood Jiang Ruo’s theory of performance now.
He couldn’t control himself; he wanted to laugh and cheer loudly.
Shi Meng turned over in bed, grabbed his phone, and opened Weibo.
That day, hearing that Jiang Ruo and his partner had a CP super-topic, Shi Meng was inspired and applied to create one himself.
It was called “Sun Shower,” a simple combination of their names, which Shi Meng was very satisfied with.
Opening the super-topic, Shi Meng typed the words—I was proposed to.
Just before hitting send, he thought for a moment, started a new line, and added two words—Happy.
The next day, the post received a few replies from the friends Shi Meng had asked to help him create the super-topic initially.
This made Shi Meng inexplicably embarrassed. He moved his finger and removed them one by one from the super-topic follower list.
Before long, Jiang Xue sent a string of garbled characters via WeChat: Meng Meng you… %￥-+》*#·“：《。、～？？
Jiang Ruo also sent a message: Using and discarding, Painter, you are so heartless!
Later, the Sun Shower super-topic welcomed a diligent moderator who, on their first day, meticulously divided the super-topic into sections. Shi Meng’s mood diary, casual doodles, and old photos were all categorized and stored.
Shi Meng had posted a photo on the super-topic once, showing two faded amusement park tickets, with the caption “Stolen time.”
The moderator didn’t have the authority to modify the content of the post, so the next day, Shi Meng saw a new section in the super-topic called “Not,” and that post was prominently featured there.
Shi Meng couldn’t describe his feelings at the moment, as if someone had appeared out of thin air and, while he was privately savoring the bitterness of his memories, loudly and solemnly told him—It wasn’t stolen, this is the good time that belongs to you and me.
A knowledgeable person once asked Shi Meng if he didn’t feel it was unfair to forgive the person who had hurt him and stay with him like this.
Shi Meng had heard a saying—Misunderstandings do not need to be forgiven.
He pondered for a moment and replied, “Love cannot be fair.”
On the night he was proposed to, Shi Meng counted silently from 1 to 100. When he opened his eyes, he saw the ring was still on his hand.
Although the other party had beaten him to it, Shi Meng still wanted to satisfy his craving.
He turned back over, facing the sleeping Fu Xuanliao, and, taking advantage of the quiet night, spoke the words he had rehearsed countless times in his mind.
“Fu Xuanliao, let’s get married.”
Unexpectedly, he was caught red-handed.
In the dim light, he saw the “sleeping” person slowly curve his lips. Before Shi Meng could react, the hand under the covers was grasped.
In a daze, Shi Meng realized that Fu Xuanliao had been involved in the few important moments of his life so far.
“Don’t pretend to be asleep, I heard everything.”
Shi Meng slowly opened his eyes, seeing the brilliant light in Fu Xuanliao’s eyes, and heard his firm reply: “Okay, let’s get married.”
Yu Cheng’s note:
Shi Meng’s inner world: Clanging gongs and drums
Shi Meng’s outer appearance: Expressionless
—-
The quote “Misunderstandings do not need to be forgiven” comes from an old Korean drama, Winter Sonata (Okay, I’m the one who’s cheesy).
The free extra chapter I promised everyone is here. I sigh to the heavens—extras are really hard to write!