SM Chapter 51

Chapter 51: It’s Me Who Can’t Get Over It

Chapter 51: It’s Me Who Can’t Get Over It

Sheng Mingqian, listening to Ye Lai’s words laced with thorns, felt the ice beer he had drunk surge and churn in his stomach. A wave crashed over him, instantly engulfing him. The beer foam pressed against his heart, covering his mouth and nose, making it impossible to breathe. All he could hear was the sound of the torrent engulfing him, tightening its grip.

Before completely suffocating, Sheng Mingqian wondered in his heart, had Ye Lai felt like this all these years they were together?

Those sharp Stingings that suffocated him every moment, and the boundless pain.

But even though he made Ye Lai so miserable, Ye Lai still stayed by his side for five years.

Obsession? How could it not be love?

When looking at Bai Yusheng, as an observer, with his so-called “clarity,” the so-called audience perspective, the so-called ultimate direction of the entire film and the theme it was meant to present, he still changed the ending for various reasons. As an observer, he believed that Bai Yusheng should have a better ending. His life and existence shouldn’t revolve solely around Jiang Yuanzhou. Bai Yusheng had his own pride, his own beloved career; he deserved a broader, brighter future.

And in the original ending of “The World on the Bough,” Jiang Yuanzhou finally chose to be with Bai Yusheng after years of companionship and Bai Yusheng’s deep, pursuing, and sacrificial love for him. Whether it was affection growing over time or being moved by Bai Yusheng’s persistence, he chose to be with Bai Yusheng after many years.

This ending, however, was what Ye Lai had hoped for in their relationship. Ye Lai wrote it when their relationship hadn’t reached a final conclusion.

Sheng Mingqian still remembered a line from the later part of the novel—

Even if Jiang Yuanzhou is a stone, I should be able to warm him up. He will see me eventually, he will…

The silence and humility in the tone weren’t Bai Yusheng’s; they were all Ye Lai’s.

Sheng Mingqian imagined Ye Lai’s state of mind when he was writing. He might smile, read the ending he wrote over and over, tiptoe and spin on the floor, carefully cherish it, and one day, he might couldn’t help but share it with someone he trusted, sharing that ending that looked like a rainbow in his eyes, simply because that was what he wanted.

But what about reality? The ending he gave Ye Lai was cruel and ruthless.

Whenever Sheng Mingqian thought of those things, he wanted to drag out the him in that rest room who had said those cruel words to Ye Lai and beat him up severely.

Only now did he understand what earth-shattering darkness was, the wind blowing into a deep valley would obliterate all so-called reason and clarity.

He wasn’t an observer now; he was involved.

Because that person was Ye Lai, and what Ye Lai wanted had always been simple.

Obsession?

When that scorching, burning obsession landed on him, Sheng Mingqian finally understood what obsession was—

He just wanted that person; because he loved him.

Ye Lai was still eating dumplings. His back, standing at the dining table, still looked thin. The curve of his slightly lowered neck hid strength within its softness.

Sheng Mingqian clearly sensed Ye Lai’s outward hardness. His body trembled; it was the barrier Ye Lai had erected, a barrier directed at him.

“Ye Lai, I’m sorry…” Sheng Mingqian slowly walked to the dining table, raised his hand to reach out, but before he could touch Ye Lai’s shoulder, he saw Ye Lai’s back stiffen, and he suddenly shifted to the side, avoiding his hand.

Sheng Mingqian’s fingers froze in mid-air, grasping at nothing, and then slowly dropped.

Ye Lai turned around, meeting Sheng Mingqian’s red eyes: “Director Sheng, please don’t call me that, and you don’t need to apologize to me.”

Sheng Mingqian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long time, he gave a bitter laugh: “I was too self-righteous before. I’m sorry for many, many things. I’ve seen that video, and changing the ending of the script… I sentenced us to death.”

Ye Lai didn’t respond, sitting in the chair, quietly eating dumplings with his head lowered. His teeth moved numbly; the dumplings in his mouth were as hard to swallow as stones. The rough exterior cut his tongue and throat, making them bloody.

His chopsticks picked up another dumpling. Ye Lai stared at it for a long time before realizing that the folds on the dumpling weren’t even. He glanced at the chopsticks; they were from Sheng Mingqian’s house. He had subconsciously assumed that Sheng Mingqian had bought the dumplings from outside when he saw the kraft paper breakfast bag.

Now it seemed that Sheng Mingqian had made them himself. No wonder he felt the dumplings weren’t as good as before; it wasn’t his imagination.

Sheng Mingqian had made the filling too salty.

Saltiness not only stimulated the taste buds but also stimulated the eyes.

Ye Lai blinked hard, suppressing the sudden surge of heat, and continued to eat one dumpling after another.

“Director Sheng, thank you for the dumplings.” The lunchbox was too big; Ye Lai was full after eating half of them. He put down his chopsticks. “I’m full; I should rest.”

The last half of the sentence was a dismissal.

But Sheng Mingqian pretended not to hear it. He picked up the chopsticks Ye Lai had put down and ate all the remaining dumplings.

“It’s a bit salty,” Sheng Mingqian said.

He had hastily made the dumplings that morning, afraid that Ye Lai wouldn’t eat the ones he made, so he put them in a kraft paper bag to pass them off as bought.

“Drink more water.” Sheng Mingqian took the insulated lunchbox and chopsticks to the sink to wash them. “There’s no water; I’ll boil some for you. Where’s the kettle?”

Ye Lai sighed silently. It seemed that Sheng Mingqian was planning to stay? He didn’t answer his question, nor did he pay any more attention to him. He went to the bathroom, washed up, and then went straight back to the bed room without even glancing at the person in the living room.

As the door closed tightly, Ye Lai’s words of dismissal came from the crack in the door: “Director Sheng, please close the door when you leave.”

–

–

“Zhang Yihao, why did you give Sheng Mingqian my new address?” Ye Lai called Zhang Yihao as soon as he returned to his room.

Zhang Yihao also felt a little guilty, scratching his head: “I’m out of town. Sheng Mingqian said he had an urgent matter to find you about but couldn’t reach you. Your phone was also unreachable. He said he was afraid something had happened to you. I was half-asleep and called you too, but your phone was turned off. In my rush, I gave him your address. After giving him your address, I remembered that you were filming on set; of course, your phone wouldn’t be reachable. Did he make things difficult for you again?”

“No, if he calls you again, don’t answer, Zhang Yihao.”

“Okay.”

Ye Lai didn’t lower his voice while talking on the phone, nor did he care whether the person outside could hear him.

Ye Lai thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep if Sheng Mingqian didn’t leave, but the opposite happened after he lay down. Perhaps he was too tired, he fell into a deep sleep within two minutes of closing his eyes. The last sounds he heard were the sound of the wind scraping against the glass window, mixed with the very light footsteps back and forth in the living room.

He slept until dark. Ye Lai had eaten salty dumplings before going to bed and woke up thirsty. He reached out subconsciously to the bedside table and almost knocked over the water glass. Fortunately, he reacted in time and steadied it, but a few drops of warm water still splashed on the back of his hand.

Ye Lai didn’t think much of it, picked up the water glass, and drank it all in one gulp. His brain was still unclear from just waking up. He got out of bed and opened the door, seeing the living room lights still on.

Sheng Mingqian hadn’t left and was asleep on the sofa. Ye Lai stood in the doorway in a daze for a few seconds, licking his still-moist lower lip with his tongue. When a person was extremely thirsty, the water they drank was sweet.

The warm water on the bedside table had been left there by Sheng Mingqian. Ye Lai slowly walked out. The living room showed obvious signs of being cleaned up. His dirty clothes from the past few days, which had been draped over the chair, were now gone and hung on the balcony. He had been too busy to wash them these past few days.

Sheng Mingqian was lying quietly on the sofa, his left arm covering his face, obscuring his forehead and eyes, revealing only the lower half of his face. The sofa in the living room wasn’t big; Ye Lai felt cramped even lying on it, let alone Sheng Mingqian.

Sheng Mingqian’s legs were curled up and hanging over the edge of the sofa. The sleeping position looked pitiful.

Ye Lai walked to the sofa, raised his hand to push Sheng Mingqian’s arm and wake him up, but as soon as his fingers touched Sheng Mingqian’s clothes, his first impression was the dampness on his fingers. Ye Lai changed his pushing motion to pinching Sheng Mingqian’s clothes with his index finger and thumb.

It wasn’t an illusion; Sheng Mingqian’s clothes were indeed wet. Ye Lai also felt the collar of Sheng Mingqian’s shirt, which was also wet. Sheng Mingqian’s breath blew on Ye Lai’s fingertips, scalding hot. Ye Lai quickly withdrew his fingers.

Sheng Mingqian’s lips moved. Ye Lai realized he was awake and called out, “Director Sheng, wake up.”

Two seconds later, Sheng Mingqian took down his arm from his face. His vision hadn’t yet focused when he opened his eyes. Above him was only Ye Lai’s blurry face, Ye Lai’s silhouette a gradually brightening halo after being blurred.

“When did you wake up? Are you hungry? Did you drink water?” Sheng Mingqian sat up, supporting himself with his arms, and rubbed his face hard with his hands to clear his head a little.

Ye Lai could tell at a glance that Sheng Mingqian must have just fallen asleep not long ago. His eyes were still filled with bloodshot veins, and his clothes and hair were messy, making him look disheveled and vulnerable.

Ye Lai had never seen this side of Sheng Mingqian. In his eyes, Sheng Mingqian always stood high above, and he had to look up at him. He had never seen Sheng Mingqian so humble.

Thinking of this, Ye Lai stopped his suddenly runaway thoughts and stated the fact to Sheng Mingqian again: “Director Sheng, this is my home. We are divorced.”

Sheng Mingqian was silent. The two, one standing and one sitting, were both motionless.

“Mingqian, what exactly do you want?” Finally, Ye Lai couldn’t hold back and broke the eerie silence.

“I want to win you back,” Sheng Mingqian replied without thinking.

Ye Lai felt helpless: “Just because you found out that the book was written by me?”

Sheng Mingqian was still sitting on the sofa. This time, he was looking up at Ye Lai: “No, after signing the divorce agreement, I was thinking that after the divorce, even if it was just ending our relationship that was bound by the agreement first, even if I hadn’t seen that video and didn’t know you wrote ‘The World on the Bough,’ I also…”

“Mingqian,” Ye Lai took a deep breath, interrupting Sheng Mingqian, his voice urgent. He was afraid Sheng Mingqian would finish that last half of the sentence. He was afraid he would soften, afraid he would be absurd again for another ten years.

Why were he and Sheng Mingqian always at the wrong points in time? The term “missed connections” was inherently cruel.

Reason took precedence over emotion for the first time in front of Sheng Mingqian. Ye Lai said hard-heartedly: “Mingqian, I still really want to experience Bai Yusheng’s ending. I want to see if he can live well after leaving Jiang Yuanzhou.”

As soon as Ye Lai finished speaking, Sheng Mingqian chased after the end of his words: “I can’t get over it. It’s me who can’t get over it…”

Ye Lai bit his tongue hard, instantly consumed by the pain and the taste of blood. He only felt that the house was too small, too cramped, making it impossible to breathe. He turned and walked to the door, fleeing his home.

Afraid that if he was even a step late, he would once again be played by fate.