Chapter 22 A connection forged through painting, love blossomed amidst misty rain…
"Why?"
Shen Dongsheng clutched his chest, his pale hand gripping the cracks in the stone slabs. Raindrops fell, soaking him to the bone, his white clothes stained with dust. The young man propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes filled with resentment.
Qingyu curled her lips into a smile, her eyes deep and disdainful, not even glancing at the young man below the stage.
A bright and beautiful young girl held an umbrella in one hand and threw the painting scroll in her hand into the air with the other.
With rain as walls and wind as nails, the scroll unfolds strangely in the air, and the woman in purple in the painting remains as gentle as ever.
Qingyu gazed quietly at the painting in the air, as if she could see through her to Mu Qingyun, the former wife of the governor of Danzhou and mother of Shen Dongsheng.
It seems that after becoming a wife and mother, a woman loses her name.
Qingyu gazed at the woman in purple in the painting. After a moment, she spoke politely.
"After watching the play about you, I haven't been able to sleep well for the past two days."
"I've thought about it, and actually, whether this scene is shown or not, Shen Dongsheng is going to die anyway, so I might as well do it myself."
She paused, her tone apologetic yet firm, "I hope you won't take offense—"
The autumn wind swept down cold rain. On the high steps, the girl looked at Shen Dongsheng and spoke softly, her voice calm but tinged with coldness.
"Didn't you want to know why the late Madam couldn't come back?"
"Let me tell you why."
Shen Dongsheng strained to lift his body, staring intently at the girl on the high platform. Qingyu, on the other hand, lowered her eyes, recalling the scene in the painting, the girl's powerless life in the play, and her gentle eyes.
As the raindrops pattered down, she looked at the pathetic and ridiculous Shen Dongsheng on the ground.
"If she had a choice, my late wife would never have married your father."
At that time, Mu Qingyun already knew that Shen Mushan had an affair with a strange woman. After falling into the water, she stayed at home for a year and had already planned to break off the engagement. However, fate played a trick on her. At the age of sixteen, her family fell into poverty and she was threatened. It was Shen Mushan who came to her door with a token and said with certainty that he would fulfill the marriage contract.
“She gave birth to you at seventeen, and when you were twenty, you were just a three-year-old child. She was heartbroken and wanted a divorce, but your cries stopped her in her tracks.”
After three years of marriage, when Mu Qingyun saw the female demon again in the study, she felt that she had never seen through this man who had grown up with her. At that time, her parents had already returned to their hometown, and apart from Shen Dongsheng, no one could stop her from getting a divorce.
"She fell ill from worry, and her family, upon hearing this, were concerned and traveled a long distance to visit her. Unexpectedly, she lost both her mother and father in the same year because of this."
"Despite such a blow, she forced herself to pull through, to observe mourning for her father and to raise her son with utmost care—because you were too young. She told herself that as a son she hadn't been able to fulfill her filial duties, but as a mother she had to fulfill her responsibilities."
"Boom!"
Raindrops fell in bursts, and another huge white lightning bolt flashed, illuminating the pale face of the young man on the ground. Qingyu glanced at him with disgust, but couldn't help thinking of the scenes in the painting, Mu Qingyun's pain and perseverance, sorrow and fragility.
The girl tilted her head slightly, looking at the continuous lines of rain, and sighed softly.
"She fell into the water at fifteen and developed a chronic illness; she gave birth to you at seventeen; and at twenty, while ill, she heard the news of her parents' deaths—did she suddenly collapse?"
"I was clearly exhausted a long time ago."
"But for your sake, she endured for so many years."
"Perhaps for you, that year of heavy snow, you lost your mother."
"But for the late Madam, she should finally be able to go to her parents in peace."
Her words were soft, more like a sigh of regret for Mu Qingyun, but at this moment the rain was falling, and these continuous words suddenly became sharp swords, one after another, sword after sword, piercing Shen Dongsheng's heart.
He gasped for breath, raindrops falling into his mouth, and the young man felt he couldn't breathe.
"I just... I just wanted to see her one more time. I know she's had a hard time, I know, I just..."
The young man was panting heavily, speaking in fits and starts. His whole body was pale, and veins were bulging on his face, as if he had exerted himself to the extreme.
Looking at his miserable state, Qingyu slowly gave a mocking laugh.
"Extremely hypocritical."
“You know perfectly well that your mother left willingly, and your father wronged her. Can you do the same to her now?”
"What did she do wrong that she was deceived by your father while she was alive, and is now being used as a reason for her child to kill someone after she died?"
It's ridiculous, Qingyu thought it was ridiculous.
Sometimes, people really like to kill someone step by step in the name of love, and even after the person is dead, they don't want her to rest in peace.
Qingyu had never met Governor Shen, but she felt that since Shen Dongsheng was so heartbroken and missed his mother that he killed to seek her soul and was obsessed with her, why didn't he dare to raise his knife against his so-called father?
Isn't the root of everything this governor?
"Never mind," she thought.
No matter what you say, it's useless; Mu Qingyun is ultimately dead.
Qingyu glanced one last time at the seemingly heartbroken young man below the stage, then turned around with her umbrella, and gently, the hem of her crimson skirt disappeared into the rain.
The girl raised her voice one last time, her calm yet powerful words carrying the weight of a hammer blow, piercing through the wind and rain, gently disappearing into the air, yet striking the young man's heart with a resounding impact.
"You risked several lives just to see her one more time."
"But did you ask her if she wanted to? What good would it do if she came back?"
Have you thought about it?
Do you really love your mother?
For whom did she live her life, for whom did she love, and for whom did she die?
No one knew, no one cared, no one truly understood this young girl, wife, and mother.
She seems to just sit there gently, watching you.
She smiled, quietly, as if to say, "Don't think of me, don't think of me, don't think of me—"
The painting in the air suddenly fell, and she drifted with the wind to the young man's side.
Mu Qingyun was not a beautiful woman. Shen Mushan painted her several times, always subconsciously trying to beautify her. Only after her repeated requests did Shen Mushan paint this one, such an ordinary painting.
Only Shen Dongsheng knew that this painting was his mother's favorite.
Under the dim rain, the woman in purple on the painting looked at him tenderly. The young man laughed loudly, blood flowing continuously from his mouth. He crawled over and picked up the painting, then curled up in a fetal position.
A tall young man, at this moment, hugged himself like a child, both comically and painfully.
The rain continued, and the young man could no longer open his eyes. He tightly, tightly hid the scroll, muttering incoherent words.
“Mother, I’m sorry… Mother, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone… Mother, I’m so cold… I just missed you so much… I’ve been wronged because of you… I’ve come to find you… Please don’t despise me… Mother…”
"Mother...I just..."
"Please don't blame me..."
At the last moment, Shen Dongsheng had a strange thought: every time he closed his eyes tightly as a child, his mother would know he was pretending to be asleep, and then she would smile, pick him up, and sing to him gently.
I'm going to pretend to be asleep to fool my mom this time too.
I want to hear my mother's voice.
I really want to.
Thinking about it, he couldn't sleep day and night, he thought about it day and night, and he was in pain day and night.
Would everything be alright without me? Is it all his fault? Is it me...?
With that thought in mind, the young man closed his eyes tightly.
"Boom—"
As the last thunderclap flashed, the autumn rain in Danzhou finally reached its climax.
...
The young man, dressed in a light blue robe and holding a plain umbrella, stood calmly on the street in the misty rain, watching her walk towards him.
Qingyu looked at him, her voice soft, "What are you doing here?"
Wen Chuan looked at her silently. In the wind and rain, Qing Yu's crimson skirt was stained with mud and was wet. Her shoes and socks must have been soaked as well.
People seemed calm.
The young man sighed almost imperceptibly, then stepped forward, first closing his umbrella, and then taking the umbrella handle from Qingyu's hand.
In the misty rain of Danzhou, the two people and one umbrella walked side by side away.
Raindrops pattered down the umbrella ribs and drifted away into the deserted street, just like the gentle voice of a young boy.
“I know you can handle it yourself, but I’ve thought about it,”
I'm still worried about you.
Qingyu smiled upon hearing this, but it was clear that the girl's smile didn't reach her eyes. After a moment, she spoke softly.
Do you remember the question Shen Dongsheng asked me in the study?
What should I do if I lose someone who is very important to me?
Wen Chuan walked side by side with her, the boy tilting the umbrella towards her as they looked at the rain curtain that stretched out in lines before them.
"Remember."
Qingyu stopped, and the two of them stopped together. Wen Chuan looked down at her.
The girl slightly raised her head, and their eyes met under the umbrella in the rain.
"I thought about it and realized there are only two possible answers."
"Not to live alone, or,"
“Live for him.”
A calm, reassuring yet resolute voice flowed into Wen Chuan's ears. He gazed intently at the girl in red opposite him; she was like glass, yet also like the light of a sword.
In an instant, they were very close.
Raindrops fell on Wen Chuan's shoulder under the umbrella. He snapped back to reality in an instant, realizing they were too close.
The boy suddenly realized what was happening and was about to take a step back when he saw Qingyu take another step forward.
From a distance, they looked as if they were stuck together.
Wen Chuan's breath hitched.
Qingyu raised her head and suddenly gave him a bright smile.
"Wen Chuan, if you accidentally die one day, don't worry, I will live on in your place."
Wen Chuan: "..."
"Hahaha,"
Qingyu turned around with a smile. The girl's laughter was clear and beautiful, as if all her previous sadness had been swept away.
In that painting, she wasn't immersed in the scene, but she still felt sorry for Mu Qingyun. Although it sounded strange, her eyes occasionally met Mu Qingyun's while watching the play. At that moment, Qingyu seemed to have truly become friends with that woman who died young at the age of twenty-five, even if it was just for a moment.
Every blade of grass, every brick and tile in the governor's mansion bears witness to the woman's broken heart, which is why Qingyu has been unwilling to step inside since leaving the painting.
The body lay exposed in the rain. Qingyu examined Grandpa Li's corpse. The old man was old and had always worked hard. It was only recently that things had happened, but Shen Dongsheng was so stubborn that he ultimately shortened the old man's lifespan.
At that time, the girl held an umbrella and walked step by step into the governor's mansion. She thought, forget it, let it be that she was meddling in other people's business. In the end, she saw Shen Dongsheng off on his way, which can be considered as ending this drama in the painting.
The matter is over; she shouldn't dwell on it and should move on.
Qingyu smiled faintly, lifted her skirt, and prepared to walk forward.
Step by step, following Qingyu's footsteps, the umbrella remained securely above her head.
Strangely enough, even though Qingyu's words were clearly a joke, they tacitly maintained a distance from each other, and the boy continued to walk with her.
As the rain fell, her emotions gradually subsided. Qingyu suddenly recalled what she had just said and wondered if it was a bit inappropriate. Just as she was about to speak, the boy's gentle and clear voice rang in her ears.
"What a coincidence, me too."
It was like a response, or perhaps an echo.
Finally, the autumn wind blew by, slowly yet irresistibly, swirling into their hearts, gently and lingering on their very souls.
The boy held an umbrella, the girl lifted her skirt, and they drew closer to each other, watching the autumn rain gradually subside.
As dusk approached, the sky cleared.
As they continued on their journey, they tacitly accepted a certain fact.
They are both very important to each other.
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