The sky seemed to be gently pried open by the moisture from a glass window, gradually releasing its light.
The people inside, however, were content to stay in the darkness, covering their heads with blankets and groping each other's faces in the dark, like two desperate people embracing each other for warmth.
The bed was warm from body heat, and the skin that had just showered was damp and sticky again. At first, Meng pushed Fu Xuanliao away a few times, telling him to get out, but later he used up all the strength he had just mustered, and even his most skilled painful kiss lost its power.
Fu Xuanliao was still wearing that shirt, and in his haste to come out, he hadn't even bothered to button it up. Shi Meng's slender fingers reached across the drooping front of his shirt and touched the tattoo on his chest, as well as the uneven scar in the center.
Fu Xuanliao felt the pain now, gasped, and said, "Good aim, it landed right on Wen's body."
It refers to the burning cigarette butt.
Shi Meng pursed her lips and said in a muffled voice, "I didn't mean to."
“Yes, I know,” Fu Xuanliao comforted him. “Next time I’ll draw a new one, and it will be tattooed on his back.”
Shi Meng said, "No."
"Why?"
"……ugly."
Fu Xuanliao was taken aback at first, then his chest throbbed and he couldn't help but laugh.
"Do you think my drawing is ugly, or my tattoo is ugly?" he pressed. "Or are they both ugly?"
Shi Meng didn't want to talk to him and turned his head away as if he was going to sleep. Fu Xuanliao grabbed his chin and wouldn't let him escape. Shi Meng got angry and grabbed Fu Xuanliao's collar again.
This time it wasn't a kiss, but a warning.
"You're not allowed to die, I won't let you die." Looking at the person so close to him, Shi Meng's eyes widened, and a hint of ferocity appeared. "If death can bring relief, I will absolutely not let you die."
The threatening words about torturing each other until old age and death do not actually mean that.
Fu Xuanliao understood, so he was not afraid at all, but was even more willing to continue to suffer the "torture".
His eyes were swollen, but he forced a relaxed smile and said, "Then I must live to be a hundred."
In order to repay the debt, and in order to be tormented by you.
So that neither of us will be alone anymore.
Shi Meng finally closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep in the early morning.
Fu Xuanliao watched him sleep for as long as he slept, his heart itching several times from the soft breathing and the tantalizing fragrance of his body. In the end, he didn't dare to do anything outrageous. The most outrageous thing he did was gently stroke Shi Meng's soft sideburns with his hand.
As the morning mist dissipated and natural light streamed into the room, Fu Xuanliao got up to draw the curtains to keep the light from disturbing Shi Meng's rest. He glanced at his watch; it was just past seven.
He wasn't optimistic enough to believe that after yesterday, Shi Meng would open her heart to him and their relationship would be on the right track. There were still many things waiting for him to deal with, and he simply handled them according to their importance and urgency, without forgetting what needed to be done.
Walking back to the bedside, Fu Xuanliao bent down and placed a kiss on Shi Meng's eyelids.
I shed many tears here yesterday, and my originally thin eyelids are slightly swollen. Even so, the bluish-green veins on them are still clearly visible, and my long, thick eyelashes rise and fall with my breath, like butterflies about to take flight.
Fu Xuanliao couldn't resist and leaned down to kiss him again.
Downstairs, Fu Xuanliao first made breakfast for Shi Meng.
He wasn't a very good cook; all he could do was reheat the leftover chicken wings from last night, keep them warm in the oven, and then make a makeshift sandwich with sliced bread, fried eggs, and vegetables.
While frying eggs, Fu Xuanliao almost got burned by the hot oil splattering. He held the pot lid in front of him and dodged left and right, secretly resolving to ask his mother for advice on how to manage the kitchen when he got back.
Before leaving, he found paper and pen, left a note, and put it in the blue cardboard box.
He was afraid Shi Ming wouldn't be able to see it, so putting it here was the safest option.
With everything arranged, Fu Xuanliao picked up his coat and headed out, his steps quickening as he thought he would return as soon as possible.
Unexpectedly, when she opened the door, she bumped into Li Bihan, who was raising her hand to knock.
The unexpected encounter made both of them a little embarrassed. Fu Xuanliao called out "Aunt Li" and followed Li Bihan's gaze down to look at her. He then realized that not only was he disheveled, but his white shirt also had a burn hole and bloodstains. Coupled with his scabbed lips and the exhaustion of not having slept all night, one could imagine how disheveled he looked.
With a sudden jolt, Fu Xuanliao quickly pulled the coat he was wearing tighter to cover the strange marks, then roused himself and greeted everyone with a good morning.
Li Bihan nodded, revealing a smile that could barely be described as gentle: "So it's Xuan Liao."
Seeing the large and small bags in Li Bihan's hands, Fu Xuanliao offered to help her carry them into the house and told her, "Shi Meng is still sleeping. She was too tired yesterday and may not wake up until noon."
Not knowing what was wrong with what she said, Li Bihan glanced at Fu Xuanliao with a scrutinizing look.
Fu Xuanliao felt a chill run down his spine from that look and thought to himself, "That's strange. I never thought Aunt Li was a little scary before."
Fortunately, Li Bihan didn't say anything more. While packing her things, she asked Fu Xuanliao where she was going.
"I need to go back to Fengcheng," Fu Xuanliao said. "I need to take care of some things."
Li Bihan hummed in agreement: "It's time to deal with this before coming back."
Fu Xuanliao understood what he meant; it meant that the speaker did not approve of his rash and impulsive act of coming to seek peace.
However, Fu Xuanliao did not regret it. His premise for seeking stability in his work was to first follow his heart.
If they come a day later, Shi Meng might get rained on for another day.
Hearing that Li Bihan planned to stay longer this time, Fu Xuanliao felt even more at ease.
After saying goodbye and stepping outside, a ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, dazzlingly bright.
After looking up for a while, Fu Xuanliao turned to the window of the second-floor bedroom and whispered to the sleeping person inside, "Don't cry, little mushroom, the sun is out."
Back in Fengcheng, even though Fu Qiming's phone was almost out of battery from calling him back to the company, Fu Xuanliao still went to Teacher Ma's house first.
There were no classes on Sunday, so Teacher Ma went out for a walk again. When he came back and saw the person standing at the door, his face immediately fell, and he turned into a fierce little old man.
"Teacher Ma," Fu Xuanliao greeted him respectfully, "about that matter we discussed last time..."
"Didn't I tell you last time that it was hopeless?" Teacher Ma took out his keys and opened the door. "You young man, why are you so stubborn?"
Fu Xuanliao followed to the door: "This concerns Shi Meng's reputation..."
Teacher Ma chuckled and said, "So-called reputation is nothing but an empty name that ordinary people care about. I know Shi Meng, this student. He doesn't care about fame or fortune; painting is just his hobby."
The door opened, and Fu Xuanliao followed him inside.
“You’re right. People who truly love painting can tell who created the work and don’t care about fame,” he said. “But I’m just an ordinary person, and I do care.”
Teacher Ma snorted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
After a moment's thought, Fu Xuanliao said, "I'm not afraid to tell you this, but that painting, 'Flame,' was painted for me by Shi Meng."
Upon hearing this, Teacher Ma raised an eyebrow and turned her head to give Fu Xuanliao a proper look.
Fu Xuanliao had been here many times, and each time he had left disappointed. He thought that perhaps there was a barrier between artists and ordinary people, just like he could never understand what Shi Meng wanted, and could only give it to her haphazardly based on his own guesses and feelings.
Even if he went in the wrong direction and gave the wrong thing, even if it wasn't the one he cared about most, at least his sincerity wouldn't be wasted.
"It's a joke, not because of Shi Meng's painting, but because this painting was actually given to me." Fu Xuanliao said with a self-deprecating laugh, "But I actually thought it was painted for me by someone else, and even righteously told him to return it to the other party."
Looking back now, besides feeling that I was blind, I also feel that I am unworthy.
"He's so good, what am I? Why do I deserve his favor? Why do I deserve his love, and why has he loved me for so many years?"
Thinking of that spotless heart that turned towards him, and that pure gaze that looked at him, Fu Xuanliao's heart, which had just recovered, began to ache again.
He took a deep breath and continued, "So, in order to be worthy of his affection, I have to do this, for him and for myself."
“I don’t want him to continue carrying this infamy that weighs on him like a mountain. I want him to get rid of the shadow of so many years. I also want to hold his hand and escort him to a place full of flowers and applause.”
In the end, Fu Xuanliao's tone was almost pleading: "This matter can only be accomplished if you are willing to help."
After all, the painting had been burned, and the difficulty of identification based solely on the surviving photographs was even greater. Issuing such certification required a sufficiently authoritative art professional within the field, which was Fu Xuanliao's blind spot. He had no choice but to repeatedly visit Teacher Ma to ask for help, hoping to find a feasible method by using this as a starting point.
Perhaps moved by these words, Teacher Ma pondered for a long time before finally sighing.
He went back inside first, and when he came out, he had a piece of paper with a phone number written on it.
"This is also one of my students. He couldn't concentrate on painting, but he didn't want to leave the industry, so he later went to work in calligraphy and painting appraisal."
Teacher Ma handed the note to Fu Xuanliao and said, "His current teacher is the most renowned art appraiser in the industry. Once you get in touch, mention my name, and my student will also help put in a good word. As for whether the master will take on this job, that depends on your luck."
The solemn tone instilled in Fu Xuanliao a strange sense of responsibility as if he had been entrusted with a task.
He took the note, folded it neatly, and put it in his pocket.
No sooner had Fu Xuanliao left Teacher Ma's house than he dialed the student's number.
Upon hearing that the person was introduced by his mentor, the student on the other end agreed without hesitation. However, just as Teacher Ma had guessed, the student also said that he needed to sound him out first. Such appraisals and certifications were a matter of credibility, and his current teacher didn't want to ruin his reputation, so he had to be cautious.
Fu Xuanliao understood their difficulties, but he was anxious, so he asked for their address and went to visit them, bringing with him the generous gifts that Gao Lecheng had prepared in advance.
This time it was finally Fu Xuanliao's turn to be on the home turf. Although he was not good at painting or doing art, he was more often at the negotiating table than at the dinner table.
When you arrive at the place and meet the elderly, start with some subtle compliments, then show them your sincerity in every way, promising to take full responsibility if anything goes wrong and that signing a contract is no problem. Even the most stubborn elderly person can't resist this double attack of money and goodwill.
He received a call from Gao Lecheng when he came out, and was very happy to hear that everything was settled.
"Jiang Xue is preparing to make your Ice Beauty's comeback. Now that she's been exonerated, isn't this a double blessing?"
Hearing this made Fu Xuanliao feel relieved, and his tense nerves relaxed a little.
He was driving on the road to the suburbs, and he rarely had the leisure to listen to Gao Lecheng talk about his loving daily life with Jiang Xue, such as meeting the parents and buying a house. These were all things that Fu Xuanliao had never thought about before, but now he was also eager to think about.
Hearing that he was going back to Xuncheng after finishing his business, Gao Lecheng asked in confusion, "His adopted sister is already behind bars, his adoptive mother and teacher, who have no conscience, won't be out for at least ten years, and even his beastly biological father ended up with his wife and son running away with all the property. What else does he need to take care of?"
The car turned a corner and entered a rarely traveled road, which stretched upwards and disappeared into the deep mountains and forests.
Fu Xuanliao gave a brief reply over the phone: "Handle the past."
The winter wind rustled the evergreen fir trees along the road. As he got out of the car, Fu Xuanliao glanced back at the road he had come from, thinking about what Shi Meng had said about "turning back" last night. He quickened his pace, wanting to get back as soon as possible.
This is a cemetery, in an excellent location nestled against the mountains and beside the water. It is said that even the most remote spots can sell for seven figures.
Putting money aside, behind each tombstone stands a different life story, and the one in front of Fu Xuanliao is no exception.
This was the first time he had come here with a calm and peaceful mind, so when he saw the name on the tombstone, his mind went blank for a moment, as if he didn't know what to say.
Actually, there was no need to say it or make this trip in the first place.
However, Fu Xuanliao felt he needed to give Shi Meng and himself an explanation, and that it would seem unresolvable if he didn't say it in person.
Let's just say he's following a trend and seeking a sense of ritual.
Fu Xuanliao remembered that the last time he came here, he was filled with guilt for "changing his mind" and didn't even dare to look directly at the grave. But now, looking at the black and white photo on the tombstone, he felt that the face was becoming more and more unfamiliar, and it was no longer the same as he remembered.
Or rather, it was precisely because what he had seen before was an illusion that it collapsed so quickly and so completely when the truth came.
From another perspective, we should thank the person lying here, for letting his last trace of guilt vanish, for the ropes binding him be untied, and for allowing him to embrace freedom again and examine his true self.
Fu Xuanliao spoke in the cold wind: "This is the last time I'll come here."
"It's not to see you, after all, I don't owe you anything, and Shi Meng owes you even less."
The person in the photo seemed not to have heard what he said, his smile as bright as ever, just as before.
Fu Xuanliao suddenly felt an urge to step forward and tear away his smile and pretense, to ask him why he was so cruel, to harm Shi to such an extent even on his deathbed.
What did Shi Meng do wrong again? Why is he tormented by fate, leaving him scarred and riddled with wounds?
Why should they miss out on so many years?
But the person in front of me is already dead, so nothing I say will reach the underground.
Only then did Fu Xuanliao understand the true meaning of Shi Meng's words from back then, "But he is already dead."
Because he is dead, you can never forget him; because he is dead, I can never have your heart all to myself.
It seems like a provocation, flaunting the fact that one is still alive, but in reality it is extremely humble, as if one has no advantage over the dead except for being alive.
It is a kind of utter despair and helplessness.
I took a deep breath of the cool mountain air, which scraped my throat with a knife-like chill, bringing out a metallic taste that could numb my nerves.
“I’ve come here to tell you that everything you’ve taken from me will return to Shi Meng,” Fu Xuanliao said, emphasizing each word. “Including the love you’ve misappropriated all those years.”
Thinking of how those beautiful moments that should have belonged to Shi Meng and him were shattered, he hated himself for misjudging people, and he also hated the person in front of him who smiled innocently but was actually extremely vicious.
This person left peacefully, and even if he is mentioned in the future, it can be easily dismissed with a casual remark like, "It's no wonder he felt resentful that he got a terminal illness at such a young age." But what he did is like a needle pricking their hearts, making them doubt each other. Even if the needle is pulled out, there will never be no gaps left.
But now is not the time to complain. Suppressing his surging rage, Fu Xuanliao sneered: "Now, I can guarantee I won't forget you."
“I will never forget what you did to Shi Meng. Even if you die, it will not be wiped clean. You must pay back for each and every sin you committed.”
At this point, Fu Xuanliao felt fortunate again.
Fortunately, he is still alive; fortunately, they are all still alive.
Living is not only about having an advantage over the dead, but also about demonstrating the power of life to them.
There is hope as long as you are alive.
"If you still feel it's not enough and want revenge, then come find me. I'm tough."
Fu Xuanliao straightened up and exhaled the cold air that had been inhaled into his lungs.
"And he will live a long, healthy, and happy life, carrying everyone's love and blessings."
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