Chapter 33
The gunshot rang out crisply, shattering the curtain of rain that stretched from the sky to the ground, causing the air to ripple.
The car window was fogged up by the rain, but one could still see Fu Jingyuan's steps falter for a moment after the gunshot, before he silently collapsed to the ground. The black umbrella in his hand fell to the ground and rolled to one side in the wind.
At that moment, Xiao Meng instinctively turned around and reached out to grab Rong Xiang's arm, but she missed by a fraction of a second. Rong Xiang had already pushed open the car door and plunged into the rain, running towards Fu Jingyuan. Xiao Meng knew something was wrong and jumped out of the car to try and catch him, but Rong Xiang, with an unknown strength, pushed her to the ground and then ran to Fu Jingyuan's side.
At the same time, another gunshot rang out. Xiao Meng was startled and scrambled to his feet, groggily crying out, "Third Master! Danger... Come back quickly!!"
He ran forward as he spoke, but suddenly stopped when he reached Rongxiang's back.
Rong Xiang knelt before Fu Jingyuan, head bowed, grabbing his shirt collar and shaking him. Fu Jingyuan lay on his back in the shallow puddle, eyes wide open, blood slowly seeping from the back of his head, gradually flowing across the ground.
Rongxiang first shook him, but when he didn't move, he pulled his ears and slapped his face. Seeing that he seemed stunned, Xiao Meng couldn't help but squat down and whisper, "Third Master, Mr. Fu is dead."
Rong Xiang trembled, raised a hand to cover his throat, and continued to shake and punch Fu Jingyuan.
The few pedestrians on the road screamed in fright and hid in nearby shops; even the fruit farmer carried his load and hid.
The rain intensified. Rong Xiang leaned on the ground, bowed his head, and pressed his cheek against Fu Jingyuan's. Then he bent down and wrapped his arms around Fu Jingyuan's upper body, as if to lift him up. Xiao Meng rushed forward to help, but upon seeing Rong Xiang, his face immediately turned pale: "Third Master...you've been shot?"
Blood was gushing from Rongxiang's neck—specifically, the upper left side of his throat. The blood mixed with rainwater seeped into his collar, already staining half of his front. Xiao Meng panicked, grabbing Rongxiang's waist and pulling him back forcefully: "Third Master…you've injured a vital spot…let go of Mr. Fu…"
However, Rong Xiang seemed possessed, clinging tightly to Fu Jingyuan and refusing to let go. Seeing this, Xiao Meng simply released Rong Xiang and got up to hug Fu Jingyuan: "Third Master, let me help you take Mr. Fu back to the car, please let go-------" He forcefully pried Rong Xiang's arms off: "Please, let go!"
Fu Jingyuan was very heavy, and it took him a lot of pulling and carrying to get him back to the car.
Rong Xiang then got into the car, his steps brisk, showing no signs of serious injury. After sitting down, he tightly embraced Fu Jingyuan. Fu Jingyuan, still with his eyes open, leaned obediently on Rong Xiang's shoulder. As the car bumped along, his head drooped to Rong Xiang's chest.
Rong Xiang lowered his head and stared at Fu Jingyuan's shattered skull for a long time. Suddenly, he coughed, and blood gushed out from the wound on the upper part of his throat, dripping down onto Fu Jingyuan's cheek.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Xiao Meng saw Rong Xiang bend down and hold Fu Jingyuan's head close to his heart. The brain matter and blood mixed into a red and white liquid, which smeared in large patches on Fu Jingyuan's face and body.
Xiao Meng stepped on the gas and drove forward, feeling both bewildered and excited, as if the world had turned upside down.
Rong Xiang sat on the hospital bed, holding Fu Jingyuan, who died with his eyes wide open in his arms.
His neck was wrapped in thick bandages. The doctors and nurses all said he was lucky to be alive; if the bullet had been just a little off, it would have hit an artery; if it had been a little more accurate, it would have hit his throat and trachea—both extremely dangerous places.
Xiao Meng asked the doctor, "Where is the injury located?"
The attending physician was quite old. He tilted his head back and gestured with his index finger to demonstrate: "The bullet went in here—and then flew out. This is considered a penetrating wound, damaging the vocal cords. But you don't need to worry too much, because after the patient has recovered for a while, we can perform vocal cord repair surgery as much as possible, depending on the specific injury. In theory, there shouldn't be any problems, as long as the patient receives proper treatment."
Xiao Meng nodded: "Thank you. But he seems dazed right now, so please don't tell him about his injuries yet, okay? Because... I can't predict what news might upset him."
The doctor nodded: "That's no problem. But there's one more thing. Even though the injured person is in a private room, you absolutely cannot bring a corpse in. I don't know the details yet, but there are a lot of police officers outside. This is a hospital, and we need to maintain a quiet and peaceful environment. You must cooperate with this."
Xiao Meng nodded again: "Yes, I'll take care of it right away."
The doctor pointed outside: "Please sign this form, and then the nurse will take you to pay your medical bills."
Xiao Meng picked up the pen, hesitated for a long time at the blank space below the document, and finally wrote down three characters neatly: "Meng Shouting".
He felt that the characters "Shouting" and "Rongxiang" corresponded perfectly, like two brothers.
After filling it out, he walked out clutching the form. His heart was pounding because it had a name he had made up for himself on it, as if he had secretly done something wrong.
After completing all the formalities, he quickly ran back to Rongxiang's ward.
The scene in the ward made him breathe a sigh of relief. Rong Xiang had released Fu Jingyuan, who was now clutching his throat as if he were about to strangle himself; his expression was confused, like someone trying to sneeze but unable to.
"Third Master... what are you going to do?"
Rongxiang's face turned red with anxiety. He grabbed Xiaomeng and mouthed, pointing to his throat, "It hurts."
Xiao Meng was relieved. When Rong Xiangfu was injured, he was consumed by a burning anger, which clouded his senses, so he naturally couldn't feel the pain. At the hospital, the doctors initially thought the bullet was still lodged in his neck, so they injected him with a large amount of anesthetic in preparation for surgery. However, the surgery was ultimately not performed, and the anesthetic failed to work.
He had been a long-term morphine user and had used many medications to wean himself off injections, resulting in strong drug resistance. Xiao Meng knew this, so while comforting him, she slipped away to find a nurse and gave him another sedative injection. Seeing him slumped onto the bed in a daze, Xiao Meng decisively picked Fu Jingyuan up and quickly carried him out of the room.
He thought that if the police officers came and liked the heavy body, then they could take it.
However, he was very wrong. The deputy police chief simply led his men over, bowed to Fu Jingyuan's body, and left hastily without saying a word. It was as if their purpose in coming was solely to confirm whether Fu Jingyuan's death was real.
Having no other option, Xiao Meng had to take him to the morgue's freezer.
Rongxiang had a dream.
It was a beautiful dream. I can't recall the specifics, but I remember it was something like we were about to set off for somewhere. Everyone was beaming with joy, our luggage was laid out in the living room, and the driver was helping the servants load the suitcases into the car.
Then Fu Jingyuan suddenly appeared, grinning and saying something to him—it must have been something really funny, because everyone around them burst into laughter. He laughed too, until he suddenly opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar, snow-white ceiling above him.
"Third Master, you're awake?" Xiao Meng's face loomed large before his eyes.
When he tried to sit up, he found that his body was numb and unresponsive.
He looked around the room again, a sense of terror creeping in, almost engulfing him. Instinctively, he gripped the sheets tightly and looked down at his brand-new hospital gown. Suddenly, he shuddered, a chill creeping over him from the inside out.
"Where is Jingyuan?" he asked.
However, there was no sound.
He shouted anxiously, "Where's Jingyuan?"
It was still completely silent, with only a faint hissing sound of airflow.
He panicked, turned around, grabbed Xiao Meng's sleeve, and shouted with all his might. He immediately felt a sharp pain in his throat. The pain made him raise his hand to rub his throat, but he only touched it lightly before realizing something was wrong. He lowered his hand and saw a faint trace of blood on his finger.
Xiao Meng then spoke up: "Third Master, the doctor said the bullet damaged your vocal cords, and you can't speak now. As for Mr. Fu, he's in the morgue now."
Rong Xiang threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, barefoot, heading to open the door and leave. He still couldn't believe Fu Jingyuan was dead—he was different from others; he was just a naive and foolish good young man—who would kill him…?
Xiao Meng didn't stop him, but bent down, picked up his slippers, and chased after him, saying, "Third Master... put on your shoes first."
The morgue is located behind the hospital, a solitary, tall, single-story building. Normally, there's only one living person inside, a one-eyed old man, and not many dead people, because most families keep the deceased at home and don't have the custom of storing them in these long, refrigerator-like boxes.
The room was very cold; even in summer, the one-eyed manager wore a thin cotton robe and kept his hands tucked into his sleeves to keep warm. He silently and responsibly pulled out the long drawer where Fu Jingyuan was. A blast of cold air rushed out, and the manager said indifferently, "Look quickly if you want to see it; the cold air will waste electricity if it escapes."
Seeing this, Xiao Meng secretly slipped him some money and sent him away. Looking back at Rong Xiang, she saw him reaching into the long drawer, seemingly about to pull Fu Jingyuan out again.
He rushed over and grabbed Rongxiang's wrist to stop him: "Third Master, please stop, if you keep doing this, Mr. Fu will not have any peace."
Rongxiang cried silently. Fu Jingyuan lay inside with his eyes wide open, his face and body covered in congealed blood clots, looking miserable and terrifying, quite different from his usual appearance.
Rongxiang reached out to touch his eyelids, but he refused to close his eyes, staring straight up. Rongxiang lowered his head, trying to meet his gaze.
Xiao Meng put his hands in his pockets and watched thoughtfully from the side. Fu Jingyuan had always been so good to him; now that he had been suddenly shot, he must be feeling extremely shocked, perhaps even devastated. But... Xiao Meng thought calmly, at most two months, and everything would be over. You know, when Chief of Staff Yi was bombed to death by the Japanese, he only fasted for three days.
Finally, Xiao Meng couldn't stand the cold any longer, so she tried her best to coax Rong Xiang back home. That night, Rong Xiang developed a fever, and when the doctor came to examine his injuries, he was shocked.
Everyone initially thought Rongxiang's injury was quite lucky; it looked dangerous, but it wasn't serious. They believed that as long as he was cared for like a regular cut, he would be fine. However, half a day later, the wound was bleeding and inflamed, and Rongxiang himself had a high fever, turning into a dangerous situation. They had no choice but to rush to his aid overnight.
In the latter half of the night, the situation finally stabilized. The doctor gave Xiao Meng and the caregiver many instructions, which they listened to attentively and then dispersed without further mention.
The next morning, a nurse came and gave Rongxiang an IV drip of nutrition. Rongxiang seemed to have finally regained consciousness and began to pay attention to his injuries. He tried to speak, but immediately his throat hurt as if a steel needle had been inserted. Xiao Meng glanced at him from the window but didn't say anything.
A few minutes later, the caregiver brought in hot water. Xiao Meng then came over, wrung out a towel, and wiped Rongxiang's face and hands. She then asked, "Third Master, do you need to go to the restroom?"
Rongxiang frowned, shook his head, and then made a writing gesture.
"Third Master, do you need paper and pen?"
Rongxiang nodded.
Xiao Meng ran outside and bought a fountain pen, a bottle of ink, and a thin notebook. He filled the pen with ink, opened the notebook's cover page and folded it back, then handed them to Rong Xiang: "Third Master, what are your orders?"
Rongxiang quickly wrote a line of text on the notebook and then handed it to Xiaomeng.
Xiao Meng looked at it; it read, "When will I be able to speak?"
"Your vocal cords are injured. As for when you will be able to speak, the doctor said it depends on how well your injury is healing."
Rongxiang looked up at Xiaomeng, a look of panic gradually spreading across his face. He snatched the notebook and continued writing: "Will I become mute?"
Xiao Meng remained calm as always: "Third Master, don't worry, it's possible that it won't happen. You should focus on recovering from your injuries."
Rongxiang wiped the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He was already in pain and grief, and now, hearing this terrible news, he felt as if he wanted to roll his eyes and faint. He even felt like he was dreaming—a long and bizarre nightmare that had been going on since yesterday morning. Jingyuan had been shot dead; how horrible and absurd it all was.
Who did it?
There was no one around at the time, so there must have been snipers hiding in the surrounding buildings. His older brother's old subordinates had no reason to attack; it could only be that Chairman Cui!
Just as he was racking his brains, the door was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang.
Xiao Meng by the window, the young female caregiver pouring hot water, and Rong Xiang, with a worried expression, all looked towards the door. There stood a man in a long robe, glaring angrily.
"Rongxiang!" He nodded through gritted teeth as he walked inside. "Great, I've finally seen you again!"
The visitor was none other than Yan Guanglin's third brother, Yan Zhifu.
Rongxiang was taken aback and, as if pleading for help, turned back to Xiaomeng and gestured. Xiaomeng first dismissed the bewildered caregiver, then stepped forward and said, "Mr. Yan... is there anything I can help you with? Our Third Master is resting, so..."
Yan Zhifu disdained to waste time arguing with his lackey and went straight to the bedside, glaring at Rong Xiang and saying, "Brother-in-law, I never thought we'd meet again!"
Rongxiang looked at him uneasily, then turned to look at Xiaomeng.
Seeing that he did not answer, Yan Zhifu became even angrier and continued, "What, you don't recognize me? But that's quite possible. You were so heartless to Guanglin, let alone me, your brother from your maternal family. Jingyuan told me not to look for you, but I didn't expect you to have been hiding in Xi'an all this time."
Rongxiang thought that the phrase "beating a drowning dog" perfectly described his current situation.
Yan Zhifu had been harboring a deep resentment towards him, but his purpose in coming was not merely this: "I know Jingyuan is gone, and he was shot while he was with you—I really suspect that you should have been the one to take the bullet! I won't settle old scores with you now; I'm going to see Jingyuan. There's no one in charge of his household right now, so I'll take people to pick him up, and the Yan family will take care of his funeral and other arrangements! I don't know what injuries you sustained, but I hope you get out of Xi'an as soon as possible! Guanglin is dead; I have nothing to fear from you anymore! You heartless and ungrateful scoundrel!"
Yan Zhifu grew angrier and angrier as he spoke, until he almost roared. The doctors and nurses, who were blocking the doorway, peered in and watched, knowing that the one who was cursing was the son of a famous scholar, and dared not come in to mediate.
Rong Xiang was first scolded, but since he was indeed in the wrong, he was both angry and ashamed. When he heard that Yan Zhifu was going to take Fu Jingyuan's body away, he was furious and got up. He raised his hand to push Yan Zhifu out of the ward, but his strength was limited. He not only failed to move him at all, but was pushed back by Yan Zhifu and fell to the ground.
A doctor outside exclaimed in alarm, "Mr. Meng, be careful of his injury!"
Xiao Meng responded and helped him up. He held Rong Xiang's arm and could clearly feel Rong Xiang trembling through the thin cotton cloth.
Rong Xiang was furious. He had never been this angry, not even when Gu Wenqian had trampled him underfoot back then.
He momentarily forgot his injury and impulsively wanted to shout back at Yan Zhifu. However, he immediately shut his mouth, and the pain in his throat brought tears to his eyes.
Xiao Meng walked up to Yan Zhifu and said softly, "Mr. Yan, Third Master was also shot. We don't even know if he will be able to speak in the future. Please come back in a few days if you have something to do."
Yan Zhifu glanced at Xiao Meng, feeling a sense of unfamiliarity. However, after shouting for a while, some of his anger had dissipated, and he was now a little calmer: "I'm taking Jingyuan away, and I won't be coming back."
Xiao Meng nodded and led Yan Zhifu outside, while giving the doctor at the door a wink.
Rongxiang tried to catch up and stop them, but the doctors and nurses rushed over and pinned him to the bed. He struggled desperately, and blood seeped through the gauze in his throat.
The doctor panicked and ordered the nurse, "Quick, give him a sedative!"
The nurses were also panicking; the medicine bottles clattered against the steel trays, the needles pierced the skin, and the injured person on the bed struggled like a fish out of water.
Rongxiang dreamed of Fu Jingyuan again.
This dream had a real and damp feel to it. He saw Fu Jingyuan wearing a short-sleeved white shirt, holding a straw hat in his hand, hurrying towards him from outside.
“Jingyuan…” He lunged forward and grabbed the other man’s arm: “You’re still alive…”
Fu Jingyuan patted his shoulder with his free hand, laughing like a cat: "What nonsense are you talking about? It's so hot outside, my clothes are soaked with sweat and sticking to my body, it's so uncomfortable."
He stared at Fu Jingyuan's face with fear and excitement: "That must be a dream... I had a nightmare that you were shot."
Fu Jingyuan nodded with a grin: "Ha... now you know, right? I'm the best person for you in this world, you can't live without me."
He cried tears of joy: "Yes, yes, I understand. From now on, I'll listen to whatever you say... Actually, I've known you were good for a long time, but I just didn't say it... I couldn't bring myself to say it."
Fu Jingyuan waved his straw hat a few times to fan himself: "Actually, I know what you're thinking... You're always throwing tantrums at me. Enough said, go inside and change your clothes!"
As he spoke, Fu Jingyuan walked forward. Rong Xiang turned around and was about to follow when he saw that Fu Jingyuan's back was covered in blood, soaking his entire back.
He was immediately terrified and let out a scream.
"Third Master, what's wrong?"
Rongxiang sat on the bed, drenched in sweat, with only a hazy darkness before him.
By the faint moonlight streaming through the window, he saw Xiao Meng sitting next to him.
He vaguely raised his hand and placed it on Xiao Meng's shoulder, mouthing the words: "Jingyuan".
"Mr. Fu's body has been taken away by Mr. Yan."
Rongxiang looked into Xiaomeng's eyes, which were very clear, like a shallow pool of water without temperature.
"Third Master, please accept my condolences. With your injuries, there's no way to give Mr. Fu a proper burial. Besides, if Mr. Fu's spirit is watching from heaven, seeing you like this, he won't rest in peace."
It was rare for Xiao Meng to offer such a well-reasoned suggestion to Rong Xiang. However, Rong Xiang's mind was in turmoil at the moment, and the thought of the future filled him with gloom. He slowly rested his sweat-drenched forehead on Xiao Meng's shoulder.
"I'm such a jinx," he thought.
"Since Yi Zhongming's death, I have watched my life decline step by step. I thought I could finally run away with Fu Jing and live a peaceful life, but in the end it all came to nothing. If things continue like this, it's really hard to predict what life will be like tomorrow."
He suddenly remembered a distant relative who had once been a wealthy landowner with vast tracts of fertile land, but whose family had fallen into ruin and who had ended up as a beggar in another county.
"Won't I end up like that too?"
He panicked:
"I can't stand that. If that day ever comes, I'd rather die sooner."
He grasped Xiao Meng's wrist. The limited energy provided by the daily IV drips had already been mostly consumed by his crying and contemplation. As a result, his strength was pitifully small, as weak as a cat that had been starving for years.
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