And the snow that day, the smell of alcohol that lingered in his nose—although a long time has passed, Shi Meng still remembers them very clearly.
He was like a hyperthymesia patient who had lost the ability to forget, his head filled with these memories that should have been packed up and left at sea. The sudden awakening made him somewhat annoyed: "You don't know...you're the one who doesn't know."
Recalling how he was mistaken for someone else, Shi Meng immediately lost interest in talking to Fu Xuanliao.
He didn't even care whether Fu Xuanliao had eaten or not. Even if he fainted from hunger at the door, what did it have to do with him?
He turned and walked into the house, not even bothering to close the courtyard gate.
Fu Xuanliao caught up: "Is there anything else I don't know?"
When Shi Meng didn't answer, he persisted, saying, "Then let's pretend it wasn't out of concern... Aren't you curious about how I got out?"
Clearly, they were unaware that his release was partly due to Shi Meng's efforts.
Shi Meng didn't want him to know, so she slammed the door shut without a word, trying to lock him out.
However, the door encountered resistance, and Shi Meng tried several times to close it but couldn't. He stared wide-eyed at Fu Xuanliao through the narrow crack in the door: "What exactly do you want to do?"
"That's what I should be asking you." Perhaps realizing that the more Shi Meng yielded and backed down, the more rebellious he became, Fu Xuanliao pressed his advantage, "You gave false testimony, making me a suspect and having me arrested at the police station. What exactly are you trying to do?"
Shi Meng was stunned by the question. In that short time, Fu Xuanliao pushed open the door and squeezed into the room through the gap beside him.
The door slammed shut, and Fu Xuanliao sat down in the chair closest to the kitchen.
I came here without stopping after leaving the police station, and I've been forcing myself to stay awake until now. The last bit of energy I had was completely used up in the struggle just now.
He closed his eyes, utterly exhausted, and asked without hope, "Is there anything to eat? Anything will do."
Perhaps thinking that Fu Xuanliao had come to interrogate him, Shi Meng went to the refrigerator, found some leftover food from dinner, heated it in the microwave, and brought it to the table.
Fu Xuanliao was truly starving. He squinted and, without even looking at what it was, picked it up with his chopsticks and stuffed it into his mouth.
This time, Shi Meng wasn't in the mood to provoke him. He didn't ask if he was afraid of being poisoned. Fu Xuanliao was also no longer in a hurry to express his attitude. He didn't say anything about being willing to eat it even if it was poisoned.
Everything moved as slowly as a silent movie, yet as quickly as a summer storm.
Whether fast or slow, it is not enough to make people easily forget.
After finishing his meal, Shi Meng sat down at the table, in a spot not too far from Fu Xuanliao.
Therefore, as soon as Fu Xuanliao put down his chopsticks, his words came at just the right time.
“I gave false testimony to get revenge on you,” Shi Meng said. “You accused me of stealing paintings before, so I returned them to you.”
This was in response to Fu Xuanliao's question before she entered. Fu Xuanliao was stunned for a long time after hearing it, as if she had forgotten that she had asked that question. After realizing what she had said, she replied, "I know."
Perhaps fearing that Shi Meng would shut him down again with "you don't know," he continued, "That's why I admitted it. It was my own will, so it doesn't count as perjury. I was just talking nonsense."
"...Nonsense?"
"Hmm." Fu Xuanliao nodded. "I was so hungry, I fainted from hunger, and I'm talking nonsense."
"..."
Shi Meng remained silent for a long time, seemingly wondering if he had been tricked and that the price he paid was a meal.
Pan Jiawei had previously told him that scumbags are best at playing dumb, making you punch a pillow and unable to vent your anger.
He only learned the meaning of "scumbag" later by searching online. However, Shi Meng felt that Fu Xuanliao didn't deserve the title of "man who plays with other people's feelings"; at least someone like Shi Huaiyi would be worthy.
But the discomfort of feeling breathless was undeniable. After a long pause, Shi Meng said, "I don't believe it."
Fu Xuanliao was somewhat surprised by Shi Meng's reaction today.
Previously, Shi Meng had shown strong resistance to his appearance, even going so far as to lie to keep him away. Now, however, he was able to sit down and talk openly about the past. Even though his attitude was still tough, at least he no longer refused to communicate.
To be honest, Fu Xuanliao was in a terrible mood. Although he had willingly entered the police station and withstood the pressure of interrogation, he was still in a difficult situation where he couldn't explain himself. He had to protect Shi Meng while also exonerating himself from the situation. Being exhausted was secondary; the real torment was the pain of being trapped and powerless.
This reminded him of Shi Meng back then. Even though he had never been imprisoned, the invisible ropes binding him were far heavier than the visible railings.
How did he treat Shi Meng back then?
He wouldn't listen to any explanations and insisted that Shi Meng had stolen the painting. He hated Shi Meng so much that he grabbed Shi Meng's hand and tried to break it. He hurt Shi Meng again and again because of that painting, making Shi Meng sit on the windowsill facing the wind and making Shi Meng hold the painting in his arms as if it were a lifeline.
Such unbearable pain and daily torment made it no wonder that Shi Meng, in despair and despair, would not hesitate to burn the painting.
What Shi Meng burned away was not only the source of suffering, but also a pure and vibrant heart.
Only today did Fu Xuanliao have the opportunity to say to him face to face: "I know that you painted 'Flame', you painted it for me."
Shi Meng's fingers, which were resting on the table, twitched slightly towards his palm.
"You were the one who slipped the drawings into my desk back then, you were the one who came to the classroom to find me, you were the one who came to the infirmary to see me, and you were the one who took me home on Christmas Eve...
After hearing this, Shi Meng said, "It wasn't me."
Fu Xuanliao was taken aback by his rebuttal.
“That person is dead.” Shi Meng looked at him and said, word by word, “He died in the heavy rain that day.”
Knowing something in one's heart is one thing, but having it brought up to one's face is quite another.
The fear he felt when he saw the bloodied, dying man in the hospital seemed to return. The fact that the person in question spoke of life and death in such a calm tone was like a thousand arrows piercing his heart. Fu Xuanliao was in so much pain that he could hardly breathe, and from then on, he was terrified of the word "death".
He even wondered if he had gone mad at the time, that he could say such cold words.
If he had the chance to go back in time but couldn't stop things from happening, he might choose to strangle his past self.
Shi Meng gave up his life because of him. He personally extinguished the flame burning in Shi Meng's heart, and now he is trying to reignite it. How can there be such a good thing in the world? Why should he be allowed to do whatever he wants and have the opportunity to regret and mourn the past?
Based on his belated apology and deep affection, based on his empathy for being retaliated against.
But he still wouldn't give up.
“There must be a way,” Fu Xuanliao said in a low voice. “There must be a way to bring him back to life.”
These self-deceiving words made Shi Meng's lips twitch, as if looking at his stubborn self from back then, with only empty desolation in his heart.
He said, "Of course."
Upon hearing this, a glimmer of light returned to Fu Xuanliao's previously ashen eyes.
What Shi Meng wanted to do was destroy the last hope.
Like someone detached from the situation speaking of nothing that concerns them, Shi Meng's gaze drifted toward Xu Huang: "Only by restoring that burned painting to its original state can we achieve this."
After a long silence, Fu Xuanliao asked, "Is this the only way?"
Shi Meng watched as the light in his eyes dimmed again, took a deep breath, and said with certainty, "Yes, there is only this one."
The rain only lasted until midnight, and when morning came, the person who had broken into the house the day before was nowhere to be found.
The bowls were washed and placed in the cupboard, and the uneaten food was sealed with plastic wrap. The empty dining room was left with only a cat stretching.
Strangely enough, this cat has become extremely well-behaved since it was adopted by Shi Meng. It used to climb on the roof and run around everywhere, but now it hides away when people come to the house. Except for the time when it came out and bared its teeth when Pan Jiawei provoked it, it is quiet all the time. If it weren't for the food bowl placed against the wall, no one would know that there is a cat in the house.
As if sensing the human's gaze, the cat, now named Meow Meow, waddled over and affectionately rubbed its tail against Shi Meng's trouser leg.
Shi Meng squatted down and stroked its glossy fur, muttering, "He probably won't come back."
It meowed once.
When no one is around, Shi Meng sometimes confides in her cat, regardless of whether the cat can understand her or not; it's always better to say it than to keep it bottled up inside.
Do you also think I'm heartless?
There was no response this time. Miaomiao looked at Shi Meng, puzzled, clearly not understanding what he was saying.
Shi Meng thought to himself, "How cruel I am. I know it wasn't his fault, yet I let him get soaked in the rain and put him in jail. It seems like I'm showing him a way out, but in reality, I'm cutting off all possibilities."
That's fine too. Shi Meng thought again that it was better to part ways sooner rather than drag things out and get entangled.
He and Fu Xuanliao were never meant to be. He was stubborn and obstinate, while Fu Xuanliao was proud and strong-willed. Forcing them together would only result in mutual destruction.
Now that so much revenge has been taken, there is not only no pleasure as imagined, but also a sense of confusion and bewilderment.
Not to mention that old wounds haven't healed before new ones are added, this vicious cycle with no solution should be ended by him personally.
Shi Meng slowly exhaled and looked at the chair that Fu Xuanliao had sat in yesterday.
The feeling of being hugged from behind seemed still fresh in Shi Meng's mind. Looking out at the faint morning light, she muttered to herself, "Luckily, he didn't come in."
Fortunately, he didn't know.
After that, Shi Meng's life returned to how it was when he first came to Xuncheng: routine and solitary.
There were some differences, such as more neighbors greeting him when they went out occasionally. People looked at him with curiosity and awe, and they smiled and tried their best to please him. It turned out that they had heard that Shi Meng was a painter and they all wanted to make friends with him. Even those who were previously concerned that he was from out of town changed their attitude.
That day, another neighbor brought their child to learn from the master, but Shi Meng politely declined and saw them out. Aunt Pan next door was eating melon seeds in the yard and sighed, "In a few more days, the child will probably not remember how good we were to him."
Shi Meng hurriedly said no, he had received a lot of care from her when he first arrived here, and he would always remember the taste of Aunt Pan's steamed buns.
Aunt Pan said, "I was just kidding. I'm so happy to see everyone so fond of you. When I first saw you move here all by yourself, I wondered, whose child is this? You're so well-behaved and beautiful. How could your family bear to let you come here all by yourself?"
Shi Meng thought for a moment and said, "I ran away on my own."
Aunt Pan chuckled at his earnestness, then waved her hand and said, "He must have been bullied to run away from home. Sigh, let's not talk about those unhappy things. Come to my house for dinner tomorrow night. I bought too much pork belly and I'm worried I won't be able to finish it."
Shi Meng didn't agree because it was his birthday tomorrow, and Jiang Xue had promised to come over.
Finally, a large bowl of braised pork was delivered to their home, accompanied by a cake that Jiang Xue had brought all the way from Fengcheng. A few side dishes were also prepared, and the two enjoyed a sumptuous dinner.
“Gao Lecheng was originally going to come too.” Jiang Xue was on a diet, stuffing braised pork into her mouth while desperately drinking water to relieve her guilt. “I didn’t let him. This is a gathering between my brother and me. What kind of behavior is it for him to interfere?”
Shi Meng licked the cream off his lips and nodded: "Mm."
After finishing their meal, the two squatted on the ground and opened the packages, all of which were birthday gifts that Shi Meng had received.
Li Bihan sent a pair of new shoes, saying in her letter that they could be worn with the down jacket she had worn before; Teacher Ma sent a set of rare paintings; Pan Jiawei, who was busy doing experiments at school, sent a box of paints via same-city express delivery; even Mr. Wei, whom she had only met once, somehow found out it was Shi Meng's birthday and sent her a piece of art with considerable aesthetic value.
Seeing this, Jiang Xue sighed repeatedly at the decline of morality: "Even our little Mengmeng has learned to have her cake and eat it too."
Shi Meng couldn't deny it and said no, but Jiang Xue quickly smiled and comforted her, "Okay, okay, I know. I'm just happy that so many people like you and treat you well now."
She hadn't seen Shi Meng for a long time, and as soon as she arrived, she noticed that Shi Meng was much gentler than before; at least he no longer subconsciously avoided or ran away when others approached him.
Later, Jiang Xue thought about it again and realized that this was actually Shi Meng's original appearance, like the sharp edges of an iceberg melting away little by little in a warm current, revealing a gentle and tranquil interior.
Only those who have love become gentle; no one is born with thorns, nor is anyone born liking solitude.
Jiang Xue watched Shi Meng kneeling on the carpet, carefully putting away the gifts one by one. As she smiled, her eyes welled up with tears. She turned away to wipe them away, feeling for the first time in a long time how wonderful it was to be alive.
The next day was a workday, and Jiang Xue still rushed back home that evening.
After saying goodbye and getting into the car, Jiang Xue couldn't help but roll down the window and stick her head out: "It's your birthday, and that guy didn't come?"
Shi Meng hummed in agreement.
"Weren't you released? How come..."
“He’s not coming,” Shi Meng said.
Seeing his certainty, Jiang Xue couldn't find a way to persuade him, even though she wanted to. Thinking of Shi Meng's reaction after sending Fu Xuanliao in a while ago, she remained silent for a moment before giving in and saying, "It's good that you've made up your mind. I'll go first. Remember to call me if anything happens."
Watching Jiang Xue's car drive away, seeing its taillights flicker on and off on the dark, long road until they disappeared, Shi Meng wrapped her brand-new down jacket tighter around herself and turned to go back inside.
Early winter arrives earlier in Xuncheng than in Fengcheng. Fog rises at night, reducing visibility, so when people see someone standing at the gate, Shi Meng almost thinks he is seeing things.
As if eager to tell Shi Meng that he hadn't misread it, the man stepped forward, the streetlight casting a long shadow over him.
After a few days apart, Fu Xuanliao looked even more haggard than when he left. Coupled with his travel-worn and exhausted appearance, it was hard for Shi Meng not to wonder if he couldn't eat without her.
Fu Xuanliao, unaware of Shi Meng's thoughts, smiled faintly and spoke first to defend himself: "Who said I wouldn't come?"
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