Sun Rain Chapter 20
byWhat am I doing here?
Shi Meng, who barely registered that message, asked himself the same question.
His consciousness had been shaken out of his body, fragmented, and he couldn’t retrieve it immediately. He only managed to grasp one crucial keyword based on his self-preservation instinct.
“Terminate, contract.” His voice trembled as Shi Meng mechanically repeated, “Terminate the contract, what does that mean?”
The silence lasted for dozens of seconds before Fu Xuanliao finally spoke: “Shi Meng, we…”
“Xiao Meng is back?” Li Bihan suddenly called out from inside the room. “That’s perfect, come in and join the discussion.”
Shi Meng couldn’t recall how he entered or how he sat down. He seemed unable to understand any of the conversation between the elders, or perhaps the words entered his ears but failed to reach his mind.
Because they had guests, Li Bihan had changed into a more formal dress. Shi Sihui was also present. The mother and daughter sat close together, maintaining smiles as if they were discussing nothing more than a trivial, harmless matter.
During the latter half of the conversation, fragmented phrases like “cooperation continues as usual,” “share transfer,” and “no hard feelings” gradually filtered into Shi Meng’s slowly awakening consciousness. But he resisted interpreting them, finding the noise irritating.
The only thing he cared about was what Fu Xuanliao had intended to say just now.
We… should we be together?
Impossible. If he wanted to be together, why terminate the contract?
We should break up?
Even more ridiculous. They were never together, so how could they break up?
“Look at us, we’ve been arranging things for ages and haven’t even asked the children’s opinions.”
Seeing that they had reached an agreement and the discussion was pleasant, Li Bihan smiled and introduced the topic, signaling the end of the conversation.
Among the elders present, only Shi Huaiyi seemed hesitant. Since it was inconvenient to say much in front of so many people, he naturally handed the right to speak over to the younger generation, asking Fu Xuanliao: “Xiao Fu, was it your idea to terminate the contract?”
After a pause, Shi Meng heard Fu Xuanliao reply: “Yes.”
“And have you discussed this with Xiao Meng?”
“Not yet.”
“Then…”
“I disagree.”
A voice interrupted the conversation between the two. Shi Meng clearly hadn’t inherited Shi Huaiyi’s mild-mannered caution, interrupting so inappropriately.
At this critical moment, Shi Meng finally gathered his wits. He looked up and scanned the people in the room—the cold observers, the gloating ones—but no one was helping him.
Finally, his gaze landed directly on Fu Xuanliao. Shi Meng said, “I disagree with terminating the contract.”
Though seemingly calm and collected, Shi Meng was merely putting on a brave face, trying his best not to show weakness while fighting alone.
When they were seated around the dining table for dinner, everyone was silent, allowing Shi Meng a chance to catch his breath and relax his strained nerves.
But he had already exhausted all his strength earlier. Now, the hand holding his chopsticks trembled constantly. Several times, food dropped onto the table as he tried to pick it up, and he would use his hand to retrieve it, then wipe his hand clean with a napkin.
Shi Meng didn’t want to be looked down upon, so he put on an impenetrable mask. He told himself—I am defending my legitimate rights.
So, when the Fu family prepared to leave after dinner, he naturally said to Fu Xuanliao, “It’s Saturday today. You can’t leave.”
Shi Sihui was the first to speak up, scolding him, “Xiao Meng, don’t be so unreasonable.”
Then Li Bihan said, “It was your childish tantrum that forced your father to sign this contract for you back then. Four years have passed; you should grow up now.”
“I am not a child,” Shi Meng said. “The contract hasn’t been terminated. Fu Xuanliao cannot leave.”
The situation reached a stalemate. Fu Qiming’s face was grim, and Jiang Rong looked helpless.
The decision was handed back to Shi Huaiyi. Not wanting to offend either side, he thought hard and found a compromise: Fu Xuanliao would stay at the Shi residence for the night and have a good talk with Shi Meng.
“Things will always work out,” Shi Huaiyi patted Fu Xuanliao’s shoulder. “You are both adults now. Don’t always make your parents worry.”
Fu Xuanliao was forced to stay.
After watching the car carrying his parents drive away, he stood under the porch for a long time.
Once upon a time, he would use every Saturday night as an opportunity to delay going upstairs to face Shi Meng, wanting to postpone it for as long as possible. Now, he felt a flicker of that initial reluctance.
For an entire week, all he did besides work was think about this—how he should tell Shi Meng.
After more than four years of interaction, he could predict Shi Meng’s reaction, but when he opened the door that afternoon and met Shi Meng’s eyes, he was inexplicably lost and confused. It was as if all his preparations had been rendered useless, and he completely forgot how to respond.
In those clear eyes, there was shock, panic, and a sense of loss and sorrow he had never seen before.
So Shi Meng could also be sad, Fu Xuanliao thought. How ridiculous it was that such a cruel and malicious person could have such a fragile and helpless side.
Though he curled his lips, he didn’t actually smile.
As he went upstairs, he ran into the maid coming out of the living room. She was holding a dustpan containing a bunch of withered, broken roses.
Fu Xuanliao remembered Shi Meng had brought those flowers back. It was obvious who they were meant for.
“Young Master Fu.”
The maid, who was over fifty, had called him that since he was young. Seeing him staring blankly at the flowers in the dustpan, she stopped, followed his gaze, and sighed, “What a pity. Such a beautiful bouquet.”
Fu Xuanliao sensed a deeper meaning in her words.
He forgot which year, perhaps shortly after that humiliating contract was signed, the maid had passed him standing under the porch in passive resistance while cleaning the house. She had earnestly advised him, “Second Young Master is just not good at expressing himself and used the wrong method. Young Master Fu, why not try treating him better? He will surely treat you better in return.”
Fu Xuanliao couldn’t recall his exact feelings then, but he imagined half was incomprehension, and the other half must have been pure fury.
Thinking back now, the maid was at least half right. As for the other half, he didn’t want to verify it, and there was no need to anymore.
It was the coldest time of the year in Fengcheng, the heart of winter.
Pushing the door open, bringing in a gust of cold air, Fu Xuanliao was enveloped by the abundant warmth inside. He saw Shi Meng squatting in the corner by the bed, using his finger to tease the cat poking its head out of the carrier box.
Shi Meng’s hair was very short, as if recently trimmed. Hearing the door open, he didn’t look up, seemingly immersed in his own world, acting as if nothing had happened.
The silence was agonizing.
Fu Xuanliao walked closer and casually asked, “Where did the cat come from?”
He hadn’t expected Shi Meng to answer, but Shi Meng frowned slightly, as if annoyed by the interruption, yet still replied, “My mother’s pet.”
His slender fingers gently scratched the top of the black and white cat’s head. After a moment, he added, “She had to go out and asked me to look after it.”
Unlike others, Shi Meng’s abnormalities were always quiet. Therefore, Fu Xuanliao didn’t drop his guard. He hummed in acknowledgement, standing still, passively waiting.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Picking up the plump cat and placing it on his lap, Shi Meng sat down on the edge of the bed and introduced it: “Its name is Mu Mu.”
He rarely spoke long sentences continuously. After a few seconds of pause, he continued, “The ‘Mu’ from Shi Mu, without the radical, just the character for wood.”
He also rarely mentioned Shi Mu’s name, so even though his tone was calm, it subtly concealed a startling intensity.
Sure enough, the quiet was only a facade. The moment the storm hidden beneath it erupted, it was destined that no one would escape unscathed.
Yet, at this moment, Fu Xuanliao suddenly felt a detached sense of relief, as if his entire being had emptied out.
Exhaling, Fu Xuanliao had intended to say let’s part amicably, but then reconsidered that the word “amicably” seemed irrelevant to their situation. What came out instead was: “Shi Meng, let’s stop here.”
Finally hearing the complete sentence he hadn’t finished earlier, Shi Meng was stunned.
He looked up at Fu Xuanliao, as if confirming the words had truly come from his mouth.
Then he quickly lowered his head, evasively stroking the cat’s back, “Then, next Saturday, will you still come over?”
Fu Xuanliao remained silent.
Receiving no response, Shi Meng grew anxious. His palm uncontrollably tightened, and his breathing quickened. The cat in his arms, which had just gotten used to him, sensed the distress of the person holding it and jumped off his lap.
His hands were suddenly empty, grasping only weightless air. Shi Meng hurriedly pressed, “Then, on future Saturdays, will you still come over?”
The second hand of the clock silently ticked forward. Fu Xuanliao replaced his answer with silence.
The fear of losing control surged slowly. Shi Meng stood up, his heart sinking continuously.
“Then, we won’t go out. Let’s not go out, we’ll just stay home.” Shi Meng stammered through the simple sentence, trying his utmost to express himself, “Next Saturday, and every Saturday after that, you’ll still come over, okay?”
Fu Xuanliao still didn’t speak.
Shi Meng didn’t understand what was happening. Only now did he start to reflect, to search for the reason, but this reason had come without warning. How could he find it just by looking?
Just a few days ago, he and Fu Xuanliao were fine. They kissed, they made love, they went on vacation like a normal couple, and Fu Xuanliao had even given him a gift.
That’s right, the gift!
Shi Meng felt the sapphire necklace on his left wrist and abruptly yanked it off. “This wasn’t meant for me. I don’t want it.”
He grabbed Fu Xuanliao’s hand and shoved the necklace into his palm, trying to hold onto him and protect himself. “It’s not for me, take it back. I don’t want this, I only want…”
Before the word “you” could escape his lips, he was forcefully pushed. He stumbled back two steps and fell onto the bed.
The baffling behavior irritated Fu Xuanliao. Although he couldn’t deny that the look in Shi Meng’s eyes had fiercely burned him, and for a moment, he even entertained the thought of wavering.
Fortunately, rationality prevailed. Past promises turned into restraints, preventing him from deviating further. Fu Xuanliao clenched his fist, refusing to accept the necklace, and desperately used his arm to block the persistent man. “Shi Meng, stop being crazy.”
The moment he was pushed away, Shi Meng suddenly remembered that Fu Xuanliao had said the exact same words to him in the dark room backstage at the hotel auction.
Stop being crazy.
And—It’s not yours, it will never belong to you.
So that’s how it was.
But if it doesn’t belong to me, then who does it belong to?
The clock ticked. The meddling fingers were turned back to the starting point—four years and five months ago. The contract in black and white, the absurd agreement—the end of a solo performance. The curtain was drawn, and what he had imbued with so many beautiful expectations was, for Fu Xuanliao, merely the beginning of a nightmare.
It turned out that he hated me, despised me, and never liked me from the very beginning.
Blood vessels crisscrossed in his eyes. Shi Meng stared wide-eyed, clenching his jaw. Even though he was enduring it with a distorted expression, he refused to let a single tear fall.
“If, if I were Shi Mu, would it be,” Shi Meng struggled for breath, “would it be…”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Shi Meng realized the assumption was meaningless.
And this time, Fu Xuanliao answered him: “You are Shi Meng.”
Yes, he was already Shi Meng. He was already hurting, already riddled with holes.
And already unloved.
Shi Meng propped himself up on his arms and then stood up.
He walked to the bedside table, entered the password, opened the drawer, and took out a stack of A4 paper.
It was the contract they had signed four years ago.
Fu Xuanliao watched him, thinking he had been convinced. That vague sense of regret was drowned out by the feeling of relief, so much so that he ignored the emptiness that immediately followed.
However, Shi Meng walked over, flipped the contract that Fu Xuanliao desperately wanted to destroy to a specific page, pointed at the duration written there, and held it up to his face, afraid he wouldn’t see it clearly.
“Ten years,” Shi Meng said. “Fu Xuanliao, we agreed.”
His fingertips trembled violently, as if he couldn’t even hold the thin sheets of paper, yet Shi Meng forced himself to remain lucid, even managing to squeeze out a smile he thought was appropriate.
He smiled at Fu Xuanliao, intending to tell the other party, “I’m not afraid at all,” and “I’m fine.”
Even though he looked shaky, as if a slight breeze could knock him over.
“Ten years, three thousand six hundred and fifty days.” Following the time limit on the contract, Shi Meng smiled, yet coldly announced, “Not a single day less.”
No one was willing to make a promise to Shi Meng. Even a simple agreement required him to fight with all his might to secure it.
So, call him crazy, mock his obsession—he could give up everything else. But Fu Xuanliao, he had to hold on to him tightly.