Let Me Meet You chapter 28

The Foolish Old Man Moves the Mountain

After realizing where he had heard that voice before, Li Xuan quickly washed his face with clean water, not bothering to dry it, and walked out with a wet face.

Wang Shuying barged in, followed by a young man who looked gloomy, not very tall, and silent. Only Wang Shuying’s voice was unusually loud: “Why isn’t he at home? Who are you? Where did he go?”

As she spoke, she saw Li Xuan standing at the bathroom door and exclaimed, “Isn’t he right here? Xiao Min, who is this person? Talking nonsense, saying you weren’t at home!”

Sheng Min understood his mother well and knew there was no stopping her. But if he didn’t stop her, it meant that Li Xuan would once again be dragged into this.

He knew that Li Xuan wouldn’t blame him, nor would he look down on him because of this, but the moment Li Xuan and his mother faced each other, the overwhelming feelings of guilt and the faint embarrassment once again drowned him, making it hard for him to show any extra expression.

Li Xuan leaned against the door, observing the woman walking toward him. She wore a jade necklace around her neck, with a beautiful water-like color. On her right wrist, she wore a gold bangle that was about an inch wide, slightly tight around her flesh, clearly wearing gold and silver jewelry with intention. She looked slightly thinner than she did in the video, but still had a short and stout figure. As for her facial features… Li Xuan’s gaze lingered for a few seconds but couldn’t find anything similar to Sheng Min.

“Xiao Min,” Wang Shuying quickly walked up to him. “Why are you staring at Mom like that?”

The young man who had followed her was now sitting on the sofa. Li Xuan guessed that he was probably Sheng Min’s younger brother, the one who was supposedly involved in a bar fight. He sat silently, legs crossed, playing on his phone. He resembled Wang Shuying a bit, but when compared to Sheng Min… the difference was so vast it was hard to describe.

If he hadn’t already been informed, Li Xuan truly wouldn’t have been able to tell from their appearance that Sheng Min was related to them. He quickly recalled the man he had seen in the video, but with the sickly, haggard appearance, it was hard to distinguish his original features, making it difficult to determine if Sheng Min resembled his father.

“What are you here?” Wang Shuying called out to him a second time before Li Xuan spoke.

“What are you talking about? I couldn’t reach you by phone, I was worried, so I came with your brother to check on you.” She pointed at Sheng Min, “Who’s this? Is he someone new from your company? He just said you weren’t home, but now you’re here, huh?”

Li Xuan had no good feelings toward her, so he quickly shifted his gaze away and scanned Sheng Min. The latter’s shoulders sagged slightly, and he unconsciously pressed his lips together.

“My friend.” Li Xuan then casually stepped forward and positioned himself in front of Sheng Min, effectively blocking him.

“What she says, whatever she wants, just agree. She’ll leave quickly, no matter what she’s asking, I’ll handle it.” Sheng Min lowered his voice to a whisper.

Li Xuan didn’t speak or offer any response. The dryness in Sheng Min’s tone made him frown slightly. Using his body to shield him, he quickly brushed against Sheng Min’s wrist, which felt cold as ice.

“Friends shouldn’t act like this.” Wang Shuying, oblivious to their small gesture, complained in displeasure. Li Xuan pulled his hand back, studying her expression. It seemed she wasn’t aware of Sheng Min’s orientation, which spared him some unnecessary trouble.

“He doesn’t know you, and you didn’t say who you were. Of course, he said I wasn’t home.” There was no logical connection in his words, but Li Xuan spoke plainly, “My phone’s out of battery, nothing else. I have something to do later, you can leave now.”

Probably because she had never been so rudely dismissed, Wang Shuying shot him a strange look but then laughed, feigning annoyance: “You’re really that busy? Your brother and I came to see you and you don’t have time?… Your brother keeps saying he misses you… Sheng Hui.” She reached to grab her younger son, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see your brother? Didn’t even call ahead… come on, this kid, so clueless…”

“Don’t touch my phone! What are you doing? So annoying!”

Sheng Hui, engrossed in his game, didn’t cooperate at all. He roughly shoved Wang Shuying’s hand away, shot Li Xuan an impatient glance, muttered something under his breath, and immediately turned away. This time, he even put on his headphones.

Compared to Sheng Hui, Li Xuan’s attitude was almost kind. However, Wang Shuying didn’t mind at all and just pretended to say a few more words, something about being shy and how the brothers hadn’t seen each other for a long time. Li Xuan, feeling irritated, cut in: “No need to make excuses, you’ve seen me already.”

His expression was indifferent. Wang Shuying froze for a moment, then glanced around and sat down in a chair with a concerned look on her face. “What’s wrong? You seem a bit unhappy today.”

She would have been better off not saying anything, as Li Xuan had already suspected her timing for coming. When she spoke, his suspicions were pretty much confirmed. He smiled slightly. “I am indeed unhappy, but did you really notice?”

There was no attempt to soften his words, and Wang Shuying’s expression turned sour. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” Li Xuan replied indifferently. “Let’s not beat around the bush. Just say what you came to say.”

“Say what? Your mother comes to see you, and this is your attitude?”

Wang Shuying frowned, feeling that something about Sheng Min’s attitude was different. With her guilty conscience, she immediately raised her voice: “Oh, so now you’re a celebrity, you can’t even show respect to your mother because you think I embarrass you?!”

Her temper flipped faster than a page of a book. Sheng Min pressed his forehead, thinking here we go again. Calm her down, then deal with the drama. It’s always the same routine.

He sighed inwardly and tried to signal Li Xuan not to argue with Wang Shuying. Li Xuan, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, skillfully dodged his hand, raised an eyebrow, and said to Wang Shuying, “What are you talking about? I never thought that.”

He was playing the fool to the end. Wang Shuying had originally planned to give a bunch of excuses, but now she had no time for that. She could only bring up the subject herself: “The production team kindly asked me to record a birthday video for you, but you insist on making me delete it? Do you really hate your mother that much? Even emperors have poor relatives! Now that you’re famous, you start to hate this and that?!”

Li Xuan’s suspicion was confirmed, though he didn’t feel any satisfaction. He figured Zhang Zhihua acted quickly and had already spoken with the program team. However, the program team wouldn’t just let go of something this valuable. Zhang Zhihua, likely intimidated, refused to relent, leaving Wang Shuying to deal with it.

Sheng Min didn’t know about the request to delete the video. He couldn’t help but look at Li Xuan. His expression was hard to read—there was surprise in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. At that moment, Li Xuan also glanced at him, signaling for him to go into the bedroom. Sheng Min gently shook his head.

“Then you didn’t notice it yourself, did you?”

Li Xuan, realizing Sheng Min wouldn’t leave, stopped trying to persuade him. He pulled out a chair and sat down, cutting off Wang Shuying’s rambling. “Clearly, it was the production that told you I wasn’t happy. You’re not here tonight just to see me.”

His tone was flat, but the sarcasm was hard to hide. Wang Shuying glared at him and yelled, “Sheng Min, what’s with the way you’re talking? Huh?! You hate your parents? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be nothing! If you don’t want me to show up, just stop acknowledging me as your mom! Don’t worry about me and your brother, I’ll die with your father!”

Li Xuan couldn’t help but sneer inwardly, thinking that would be ideal, but, hearing Sheng Min’s steadying breaths beside him, he refrained from saying it out loud. “You know exactly why I asked them to delete it. I’m genuinely curious—how much did they pay you? Are you really willing to sell out your son like this? If you used even half the energy on them that you use to argue with me, you wouldn’t need to give back the money. There’s no need to cause a scene late at night.”

“Money, money, money! Now you think you’re so impressive, huh? Just keep talking about money!” Wang Shuying’s face turned pale with rage. She stood up and pointed at him, “Is that how you think of your mom?! I wasted all those years raising you!”

She was so worked up, her hand almost poking Li Xuan’s face. Sheng Min quickly stepped in to stop her: “Aunt, please calm down, he didn’t mean it like that.” He desperately signaled Li Xuan to give in.

Li Xuan maintained a calm expression. “Oh, if it’s not about money, and you promise not to mention it to me again, I’ll admit I misunderstood and apologize to you right now.”

“Li Xuan,” Sheng Min called out to him in a low voice again, “stop arguing with her.”

His voice was full of pleading, reminding Li Xuan of when he’d been in the studio earlier. The hushed discussions of fans and Wang Shuying’s loud insults were equally unbearable. He was only an unwilling outsider caught in the mess, already finding it hard to tolerate. He couldn’t understand how Sheng Min endured such a life day in and day out.

Li Xuan’s sudden silence gave Wang Shuying the chance to escalate, her tone growing sharper. “All you talk about is money. I’m only doing this for you… When your brother wanted help with a car and a house, you refused, giving all sorts of excuses. If I have to find my own way to handle it, that’s wrong? Now you’re embarrassed of me…”

Ridiculous. Li Xuan almost wanted to laugh, finding the whole thing absurd.

He didn’t know how she could say these things with a straight face. He wasn’t aware of all the details, but he knew Sheng Min’s character well enough to know he would never have been evasive like she claimed. Wang Shuying’s motives were transparent. Li Xuan thought she came to settle accounts, but she hadn’t even finished that before trying to reach back into Sheng Min’s pockets.

He looked at Wang Shuying coldly, thinking that to her, Sheng Min wasn’t even a son—more like an ATM.

As Wang Shuying continued her rant, her anger spread like a spark hitting dry hay. Though Li Xuan knew there were other ways to handle the situation, he couldn’t hold back. He kicked the leg of the dining table, making it tilt and scrape loudly against the floor.

Sheng Min, usually so submissive, had already spoken up more than expected that day. Wang Shuying had never thought he’d suddenly lash out, and she looked at him, eyes wide.

“Didn’t find enough of an audience at the market, so you came here to make a scene?” Li Xuan sneered. He didn’t care about keeping up appearances anymore, wishing he could just throw them all out. But before he could speak further, Sheng Min raised his voice to cut him off.

“Enough!” Sheng Min’s face was clearly upset. Li Xuan frowned, locking eyes with him. Sheng Min lowered his gaze, mouthing silently, “Please.”

Why is he begging me? Li Xuan thought it absurd. But Sheng Min could only rely on him—he was the one person in this house who wouldn’t demand from him or hurt him.

Nobody said anything after that, even Wang Shuying fell silent. In the uneasy quiet, the doorbell rang again.

This time it was the delivery. When Li Xuan opened the door, he had a sudden impulse to leave altogether. The delivery guy, a young man, looked surprised. “Oh, aren’t you that…?”

“No,” Li Xuan said, grabbing the food and shutting the door.

At the dining table, Sheng Min continued to calmly explain to Wang Shuying, telling her that Li Xuan was just in a bad mood. But everyone knew what would really make a difference, so when he started saying he’d persuade “Sheng Min” to send her money later, Li Xuan knew he should’ve left after all.

He didn’t go back to the table, instead dropping the takeout bag on the coffee table in the living room and heading to the study. But Sheng Hui, who had been quietly playing games the whole time, glanced up at him. “Didn’t take your meds today, did you…”

Seeing Li Xuan’s dark look, he swallowed the rest of his words.

“What’s your problem…” He rephrased, though not sounding much friendlier.

Sheng Hui didn’t really want to be here either; Wang Shuying always handled the asking, while he just enjoyed spending. If he hadn’t been desperate to buy a car and apartment to move in with his girlfriend, he wouldn’t have come. Already irritated, he was even angrier at not getting his way and muttered, “What’s wrong with asking you for money… You’re a big star, so rich, and you’re this stingy…”

“Unbelievable—you think you’re in the right?” Li Xuan, though ready to ignore him, stopped when he heard Sheng Hui’s foul words. “Where’s your mother’s face? Oh, I see, it’s stuck to yours.”

“What the hell did you say?!” Sheng Hui, as if provoked, jumped up, furious.

Li Xuan grabbed his wrist. “What, are you going to fight me?”

“Sheng Min, what are you doing?!” Li Xuan applied pressure, and Sheng Hui cried out in pain. Wang Shuying, like an angry lioness, rushed over.

“You’ve grown bold, haven’t you? Hitting your own brother…” She raised her hand to slap him, but Li Xuan leaned back slightly, disdainfully letting go. She rushed to Sheng Hui, fussing over him like a prized possession. “Are you hurt? Where did he hit you…”

“No,” Sheng Hui replied irritably, his attitude equally bad toward her.

“Let me see…”

“I said no.” Sheng Hui tried to shake off her hand. Growing impatient, he shoved her lightly. She stumbled back, hitting the coffee table and landing on the floor.

“You just didn’t stand properly.” Sheng Hui looked startled for a moment, then arrogantly defended himself.

“Ah-.” Wang Shuying cried out, reaching for his hand to stand up, but he instinctively pulled away.

“Why are you avoiding me?” She looked at him, stunned, then suddenly began to wail, “Why did I give birth to someone like you? Who am I doing all this for, and now you’re ashamed of me…”

That, Li Xuan thought coldly, was at least one honest statement. Sheng Min bent down to help her, but she didn’t move and instead pointed at Li Xuan. “And you—you ungrateful child. Your brother and mother can’t survive, and you still have the nerve to eat. I should’ve strangled you when you were a child…”

The shift in her anger was seamless. Sheng Min’s hand paused for a moment, but he continued, trying to lift her up. “Auntie, please get up…”

Before he could finish speaking, Wang Shuying suddenly grabbed the takeout on the coffee table and threw it fiercely at Li Xuan.

The moment she reached out, Li Xuan had anticipated it, stepping aside and pulling Sheng Min with him.

Sheng Min abruptly found himself in Li Xuan’s warm embrace, the sound of Li Xuan’s breathing in his ear drowning out all the insults, giving him a moment of respite. But in the next second, Sheng Hui screamed, and as Sheng Min turned to look, he saw that after they dodged, the bag of food had ended up drenching Sheng Hui.

“Are you alright? Are you okay? Why didn’t you dodge?” Wang Shuying stopped causing a scene and hurriedly grabbed a napkin to dab at Sheng Hui, saying frantically, “Did it burn you? Does it hurt?”

“Enough! You’re so annoying! This is ridiculous; it’s embarrassing every single day.” Soup dripped down Sheng Hui’s face, and his clothes were stained with patches of oil, yellow and red. He pulled the half-empty food container off his collar, flinging it at Wang Shuying before pushing her away and storming out the door.

“Huihui, Sheng Hui!” Wang Shuying called after him twice, but he didn’t respond, so she quickly followed him out.

No one expected things to end this way. At last, the room fell silent, save for the faint drip of soup falling from the coffee table’s edge.

“They’re gone,” Sheng Min said softly, still in Li Xuan’s arms. They were about the same height, so Li Xuan’s warm breath was close to his ear.

Li Xuan acknowledged this with a quiet sound, loosening his hold.

Sheng Min went over to lock the door, then turned his phone on at the entryway. As expected, he had several missed calls—Wang Shuying, Zhang Zhihua, and even the production crew manager.

“About the video, did you ask Zhang Zhihua for help? I didn’t even know… It must have been quite a hassle,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“What are you doing?” Li Xuan didn’t answer, instead asking his own question.

Sheng Min pressed his lips together as he entered the last digit of his password. “They won’t be coming back tonight,” he replied.

As if to validate his words, the phone immediately rang again.

Sheng Min frowned slightly, glancing at Li Xuan before reluctantly answering.

“Hello?”

From the distance, Li Xuan could hear the loud voice of someone cursing on the other end of the line. Sheng Min listened quietly, then during a pause, he asked in a practiced tone, “How much?”

A number was apparently given on the other end. Sheng Min agreed, hung up, and transferred the money through his banking app. Once he finished, he looked up and gave Li Xuan a gentle smile. “They really won’t come back tonight.”

Wang Shuying wouldn’t dwell on her eldest son’s unusual behavior tonight; she would simply be angry that he hadn’t been compliant. But once she’d secured money for Sheng Hui, she’d consider her objective achieved, let it all go, and move on.

Watching Sheng Min, Li Xuan realized he’d been wrong. It didn’t matter if he’d been tougher or more assertive—nothing could have resolved the situation tonight. There was no solution because Sheng Min had no intention of solving it.

“I’ll reorder takeout. From the same place?” Sheng Min asked as he went to get a cloth, wiping away the soup residue on the coffee table.

“Are you really their biological child?” Li Xuan’s voice held a trace of disbelief.

“Sometimes I wonder too,” Sheng Min replied with a small smile, focusing back on cleaning the stains.

The light shone on the smooth wood of the table, casting a faint outline of his figure. Although his expression seemed forlorn, Sheng Min knew it was only an illusion of shadows; he hadn’t felt resentment in a long time.

It had always been this way. Sheng Hui was favored. Even if there was only one piece of candy at home, it was given to him. Sheng Min wouldn’t even get the wrapper. If Sheng Hui made a mistake, Sheng Min would get scolded because he hadn’t watched over his brother well enough.

When he was younger, Sheng Min had been hurt, crying and asking why. But later, he figured it out—sometimes, some children are simply unloved by their parents.

He scrubbed the small stain for quite a while before lifting his head with his usual gentle and harmless expression. “Or should we order from somewhere else? I feel like having mango sticky rice.”

Li Xuan studied him, hoping to see through any pretense. But there was none—nothing at all. The calmer Sheng Min appeared, the more it pained him.

“I’m not hungry,” Li Xuan replied. “Can you actually eat right now?”

“If I couldn’t eat because of this, I’d have starved long ago.” Hearing the slight edge in Li Xuan’s tone, Sheng Min feigned a joke, though his smile slowly faded under Li Xuan’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Why?” Li Xuan asked.

There was no context to the question, but Sheng Min understood. He said nothing.

“Speak,” Li Xuan demanded, not letting him evade.

“What do you think I should do?” After a long silence, Sheng Min finally responded. “Yes, I could resolve it, but I don’t want to. I’m afraid… I’m bad at handling unexpected things. I just want everything to stay on an even keel. She asks for money, so I give it, and then she’ll leave me alone. I happen to be able to give it.”

He could have said more—that every change in his life seemed to come with hardship.

The first time he went out of town to film, he came back after two months to find his father gravely ill… The first time he played a lead role, the production collapsed midway because the producer ran off with the money, leaving the crew stranded. He ended up giving his remaining money to a struggling actor, buying a train ticket and standing for two days to get back home… Even when the company arranged for him to join a talent show, he nearly lost his life halfway through… He knew these things were unrelated, just superstitions. But he’d rather stay put, doing everything possible to maintain this precarious status quo.

But he didn’t say any of this to Li Xuan. Unable to express it, he simply said, “Besides, people can’t choose their parents. She gave birth to me, raised me…”

“You started acting when you were five. Who’s really supporting whom here?” Li Xuan interrupted, unable to hold back any longer.

Sheng Min’s gaze flickered, and his Adam’s apple moved slightly. “I know you don’t like them. I promise this will only happen once. I won’t let them bother you again.”

“So your way of fixing this is to throw more money into this bottomless pit? You throw a stone in water, it makes a sound. What do you get out of this?”

“I don’t need to get anything.” Sheng Min remained calm. “I’ll never use all of this money; I became famous by a fluke. I make far more than my abilities or merit deserve. If they want it, let them have it… Li Xuan, they’re just too scared. I told you before, my family was really poor when I was young. They suffered so much without money, so they come to me…”

“Do you really believe that? Sheng Min, are you hypnotizing yourself into believing that every day?” Li Xuan’s face darkened, his jaw clenched. “Are you planning to put up with this your entire life?”

The living room light had grown dim from use over time. Li Xuan stood so close that Sheng Min took a step back, hiding himself in the shadows. He spoke slowly yet clearly, “I don’t think I’ll have a very long life. So enduring it isn’t a big deal.”

Li Xuan’s expression turned complicated. After a while, he finally sat down on the coffee table, giving a forced smile. “So your solution is to die? Makes sense; self-harm—whether by cutting your wrists or jumping off a building—seems to be your specialty.”

“I must say, I’m impressed.” Li Xuan’s face, though under the light, looked just as shadowed. “Even a person trained to withstand torment wouldn’t be this eager for it.”

He spoke harshly, as if mocking someone else, but there was no satisfaction in his tone—only extreme sarcasm.

Sheng Min hadn’t seen him this bitter in a long time, as if it was the first day they met. He suddenly thought it wouldn’t be so bad to go back to that time; he probably wouldn’t have this type of relationship with Li Xuan. They’d stay distant, and Li Xuan wouldn’t have to worry about him this much.

He looked down at Li Xuan’s fingers pressed white against the table, a sigh in his heart. Not because of Li Xuan’s words, but because of Li Xuan himself.

At an inopportune moment, he thought of the story of the Foolish Old Man who moved mountains. If only the mountain hadn’t stood at the Foolish Old Man’s front door.

“Li Xuan.” After some hesitation, like he’d made a difficult decision, Sheng Min called his name. “I told you from the beginning, don’t get angry on my behalf. And now, I’ll say it again—don’t be upset because of me. None of this is worth it.”

He spoke unusually quickly, as if, if he didn’t say it now, he wouldn’t be able to.

At that moment, as Li Xuan absorbed Sheng Min’s meaning, his fist clenched and began to tremble slightly. He looked at Sheng Min’s forced calm expression and, after a long silence, forced a smile.

“Right, yes.” He nodded slowly, speaking softly. “I told you from the start, you’re like a clay Buddha, and you have your own principles. I’m not worthy to preach to you.”

Maybe he was beyond angry. As he spoke, Li Xuan’s face gradually turned pale. Sheng Min hadn’t expected this strong of a reaction, but there was no taking back his words now. Li Xuan didn’t give him a chance to explain, getting up and heading toward the door.

At the entrance, he paused, went to the study, grabbed his laptop, and returned.

“Li Xuan!” Sheng Min couldn’t hold back any longer, calling out as he watched him leave with his bag slung over his shoulder.

Li Xuan didn’t stop, didn’t turn around. He slammed the door hard behind him, walking out without a backward glance.