Perhaps fearing he might actually hurt him, the knife Shi Meng bought was not yet sharpened and was not very sharp.
It took Fu Xuanliao a lot of effort just to break apart one strand of the hemp rope; he was sweating profusely from front to back.
Just as he was about to use the strength of his arms to break free of the loosening entanglement, suddenly, a piece of paper was held up to within ten centimeters of his eyes.
Fu Xuanliao quickly gripped the blade back in his hand and looked over despite the pain—it was a simple black and white line drawing. Because it was drawn with his left hand, which he did not use often, the edges of the lines were uneven and not smooth enough, but he could still tell that the background was a playground and a boy in a short-sleeved shirt was running on the track.
His heart rate suddenly spiked, each beat pounding heavily against his eardrums. Fu Xuanliao slowly opened his eyes, confirming that every line on the painting almost perfectly matched the one he had received in the infirmary during his second year of high school, even down to the angle.
He will always remember the touch of that hand on his forehead, and the tenderness that made him feel loved and cherished.
He always thought it was Shi Mu.
His mind was in turmoil. He vaguely heard Shi Meng ask, "Does it look good?" Fu Xuanliao shifted his gaze to Shi Meng, took a few deep breaths, and finally spoke, "...Is it you?"
In the form of questions, Fu Xuanliao slowly and steadily affirmed each point in his mind—
It was you who came to visit me at the infirmary, it was you who came to the classroom to find me during lunch break, it was you who stuffed the drawing into my desk every year on my birthday, and it was also you on that Christmas Eve that I thought was a time when we were exchanging sweet nothings.
Shi Meng didn't answer. He put away the painting expressionlessly, then looked up at the sky, got up and walked out of the driver's seat.
Fu Xuanliao followed him out.
The rope binding his hands loosened, and he quickly untied it and tossed it onto the deck. When Shi Meng turned around and saw it, he wasn't surprised at all; instead, he smiled as if he had expected it.
There were no railings around the deck of the fishing boat. Shi Meng walked to the very edge, his body swaying with the boat. Fu Xuanliao was afraid he would fall into the water and tried to pull him out, but Shi Meng, with his back to the sea, commanded, "Don't come any closer!"
Fu Xuanliao was caught in a dilemma, so he could only stand still and try to appease Shi Meng.
He was both angry and anxious, and couldn't help but ask from two or three meters away, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Why didn't you say anything when I had doubts about my memory and asked you to confirm?
Five years ago, Fu Xuanliao had preconceived the idea that Shi Meng was possessive and that he wanted to take whatever Shi Mu had. Even when he later realized that Shi Meng's feelings for him weren't entirely possessive, he only realized that Shi Meng had become accustomed to it and mistook dependence for affection.
He feared that this affection, which shouldn't have arisen in the first place, would disrupt his thoughts and cloud his judgment, so he hardened his heart and withdrew. Now, however, he was being told without warning—you're wrong, it's not like that at all; Shi Meng's feelings for you are genuine.
A mix of complex emotions welled up within him, each one enough to plunge Fu Xuanliao into self-doubt.
But reality didn't give him time to think.
Shi Meng stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes a deep, all-seeing black, contrasting sharply with his skin.
He said, "If I tell you, will you believe me?"
Fate pointed him down the worst path, and at every fork in the road he made the worst choice. He was burdened with too many unfounded accusations, and in a situation where he was besieged on all sides, gaining anyone's trust was a pipe dream.
Fu Xuanliao quickly replied, "I will, I will believe."
Shi Meng was taken aback, then smiled and said, "If you believe me, then don't you believe Shi Mu?"
This time, it was Fu Xuanliao's turn to be stunned.
Yes, when he raised his doubts, he didn't want Shi Meng to give a positive answer, but rather he wanted Shi Meng to deny it, so that Shi Meng would tell him that it was indeed Shi Mu, and that he hadn't misremembered, in order to protect his precarious promise and belief.
He had promised not to forget Shi Mu, first using that promise as a yardstick to measure his morality, then turning it into a prison that confined him. He dared not take a single step out, fearing accusations of breaking his promise, fearing that even the slightest deviation would become evidence of betrayal.
He feared that his unwavering beliefs would be overturned, and even more so that Shi Meng's intrusion would disturb his peace of mind.
So he erected a defense, using reckless words to thwart every approach of the truth, appearing incredibly brave, but in reality, utterly cowardly.
Facing his own heart for the first time was like letting down all his guard and tearing away the protective layer that held him vulnerable. Fu Xuanliao was stunned and his thoughts drifted for a moment. His lips trembled a few times, but before he could say anything, he heard Shi Meng say, "I'll give you a chance."
Shi Meng pointed to the other side of the sea: "You can go with this ship."
Following the direction of his finger, Fu Xuanliao saw a large ship slowly passing by; he could summon it by sending a signal.
"And what about you?" Fu Xuanliao asked.
“I’m not leaving,” Shi Meng replied.
Without much hesitation, Fu Xuanliao shook his head and said, "Then I won't leave either."
Shi Meng twitched the corner of his lips: "Aren't you afraid I'll throw you into the sea to feed the fish?"
“You won’t,” Fu Xuanliao said confidently.
The smile froze on his lips. Shi Meng turned around and faced the ship, which was many times larger than the one beneath his feet, looking bewildered as if he didn't know how to deal with this sudden trust.
I've never believed him before.
"It's okay," Shi Meng comforted herself. "It's okay, I just need a little time."
In a world where only the two of them remained, Fu Xuanliao and Shi Meng sat facing each other, enjoying the sea breeze and listening to the sound of waves crashing against the cabin walls.
Shi Meng leaned against the empty bait box inside, recalling that not long ago, he had lied about being sick to trick Fu Xuanliao into coming back. Fu Xuanliao rushed back and, seeing that he refused to take medicine or seek medical treatment, angrily asked him, "Do you want to die here?"
Later, after taking the medicine, he tried to ingratiate himself with Fu Xuanliao by asking if he wanted to do it, under the guise of "repaying a debt of gratitude." Fu Xuanliao refused with a dark face, which angered him so much that he told him to leave if he didn't want to do it. When Fu Xuanliao actually stood up to leave, he hurriedly pounced on him and wouldn't let him go.
As a result, Fu Xuanliao was kept behind by him. His tone was a mix of mockery and helplessness: "You're the one who brought me here, and you're also the one who wants me to leave. If I really leave, you'll go crazy again."
At the time, these words sounded sweet to Shi Meng, but now, thinking back on them, they only send chills down his spine.
"He really is a madman," Shi Meng concluded, looking back at his past self from an outsider's perspective.
He thought, no wonder Fu Xuanliao ran away.
But why is Fu Xuanliao no longer willing to run away?
Their eyes met, but Shi Meng couldn't figure out what Fu Xuanliao, who was sitting not far from him, was thinking. Not wanting Fu Xuanliao to glean any information from his gaze, he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to the vast sea.
In fact, Fu Xuanliao hadn't thought about anything, or rather, he hadn't figured anything out.
He felt as if his whole being had been emptied out. As his beliefs were shattered, all his anger and annoyance lost their footing. He was like someone who had been thrown high into the air and then gently fell back down, becoming a small boat with nowhere to go at sea.
Those hurtful words, like physical entities scattered around him, became obstacles to his progress in finding the root of the problem.
Before yesterday, he was completely unaware of what Shi Meng had suffered, and the tragic consequences were not entirely his doing. But can that really be an excuse for him? If he hadn't run away and had chosen to face it sooner, would things have turned out differently?
What level... in what level?
Suddenly realizing what was happening, it was already dark. The sun was setting in the west and had been half swallowed by the horizon. Fu Xuanliao saw Shi Meng stand up and walk towards the stern of the ship, and hurriedly followed.
There is a ladder at the stern leading to the lower warehouse, with a rope hanging from the side.
Shi Meng pulled the hoisting rope and lifted up a drawing board that was about half a person's height and covered with a thick layer of paper.
Fearing that he might aggravate the wounds on his chest and ribs, Fu Xuanliao tried to step forward to help, but Shi Meng warily dodged him each time.
It wasn't until Shi Meng held the drawing board in his arms that Fu Xuanliao began to realize the true purpose of his bringing him here.
Shi Meng, clutching the painting, backed up to the very edge of the stern, warning him, "Don't come any closer, or I'll take it with me..."
"I'm not coming over!" Fu Xuanliao immediately raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not coming over, so don't back down anymore, don't back down."
Shi Meng stood still, then bent down and quickly unwrapped the paper covering the painting.
When his gaze fell upon the painting titled "Flame," which he had longed for for many years, Fu Xuanliao's pupils constricted, and he held his breath as he meticulously traced every inch of it.
It is so beautiful, radiating warmth and vitality in the misty rain and fog. Once your gaze is drawn to such a surging light and color, you can never look away.
But it's about to go out.
As evening fell, the waves at sea began to surge and roll, wetting the deck.
The wind picked up, and Shi Meng's thin body seemed to be blown away by a gust of wind at any moment.
Fu Xuanliao reached out but dared not grab him, fearing that violent suppression would add to the danger, and he wanted to comfort him but was powerless to do so.
Because Shi Meng was very quiet, almost resolutely quiet, it indicated that everything was proceeding according to his plan.
“This painting is so beautiful.” Fu Xuanliao tried to evoke his reluctance, “It would be such a pity to destroy it.”
Shi Meng seemed not to understand: "Who said we should destroy it?"
As he slowly glided his fingertip across the vibrant ink on the canvas, he said, "I'm just making it disappear."
To disappear from this world.
The word "disappear" made Fu Xuanliao's heart tighten even more than "destruction," as if a knife had appeared out of nowhere and struck him squarely, catching him completely off guard.
Fear comes from the unknown, and this unknown may be something he cannot bear. Therefore, before Fu Xuanliao realized what he would lose, he was already dominated by fear.
He tried every means to persuade you: "I know you're angry and sad... It's not too late. I'll go with you and take back everything that was rightfully yours, okay?"
He also used a pleading tone, hoping that Shi Meng would listen and change his mind.
He was just afraid that Shi Meng would be blown away by the wind.
In fact, Shi Meng was also afraid, just as fear stemmed from the unknown.
Looking at the sea gradually sinking into darkness, Shi Meng wondered, why am I not afraid at all now?
He used to be unable to let go, and spent the first half of his life desperately trying to hold onto what he wanted.
Now that he has let go and is no longer afraid of losing, fear has become the most useless emotion.
"There are still five years and two months left on the contract." Having been repeatedly rejected by Shi Meng's cold words, Fu Xuanliao was on the verge of desperation. "Our contract has five years and two months left, Shi Meng, please don't..."
Shi Meng felt a sense of irony upon hearing this, thinking to himself that this contract was a really good thing. He had used it to bind the other party before, but now the other party was using it to hold him back.
I used to be willing to be tied down, but what if I didn't want to anymore?
Shi Meng bent down, took out a stack of papers from the clips behind the picture frame, and threw them into the air amidst Fu Xuanliao's horrified gaze.
The paper was too light; it scattered and flew away in the sea breeze, so fast that Fu Xuanliao only had time to grab one sheet.
It was the last page of the contract, with the names of Party A and Party B written on it. Perhaps due to dampness, Shi Meng's name was so blurred that it was almost illegible.
The knife that had been stuck in his heart was pulled out, and the quicksand-like substance inside kept overflowing.
Fu Xuanliao seemed to know that there was no way to salvage the situation, so he loosened his grip and looked at Shi Meng with a desperate expression: "Then let's not have the contract... Let's go home, I'll take you home, okay?"
Upon hearing the word "home," Shi Meng showed only a slight reaction.
But only for a brief second, he turned his back, looked at the sunless and silent sea, facing the boundless darkness, and took out a lighter from his suit pocket.
As calm as if about to light a cigarette.
He verbally warned, "Don't come any closer."
But in my heart I thought, home is such a warm place.
"If you come over—"
Why not sooner, when I could still wait?
"I'll jump down with it."
Rather than see the sun rise and then let it sink, I'd rather have never had it at all.
The moment the flames shot up, Shi Meng's eyes felt as if they had been scalded, a long-lost pain that caused his eyes to redden and his smile to become pale and forlorn.
Fu Xuanliao, who ultimately failed to stop it all, nearly collapsed to his knees, his mouth agape but unable to utter a sound. He stared in horror as the warm flames devoured the cold flames.
The writhing flames writhed and raged in his pupils, and he finally understood Shi Meng's purpose—to make him learn the truth of what he had missed, and then watch it disappear before his eyes.
It's like creating a beautiful, illusory dream for him, and then destroying it with your own hands.
The very next second he won her heart, he let the tenderness and hope hidden in his reckless love be tragically and tragically buried in the sea, never to be seen again.
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