They didn’t know how things were handled afterward.
After Li Xuan let go, Sheng Min didn’t turn around to look, despite the surrounding commotion.
He simply gazed at Li Xuan’s face, which looked more solemn than ever, and gently took his hand. “Let’s go home.”
On their way out, many people were rushing toward the emergency building. Some cast fleeting, curious glances at the two men holding hands but quickly turned back toward the chaos.
Birth, aging, illness, and death—each was a major event. Even in a hospital, death still drew attention.
But they walked away quickly, fingers interlaced, without looking back. Not even once.
That night, Li Xuan woke up briefly from a nightmare. In the moonlight, he watched Sheng Min for a long time before pressing a tender kiss to his brows and eyes. Then, he pulled Sheng Min tightly into his arms.
Sheng Min kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, but quietly pressed his palm over Li Xuan’s heart.
The next day was a clear, sunny day. As they got into the car, Li Xuan noticed faint, dried bloodstains in the back seat and paused for a moment.
“Let’s take my car,” Sheng Min noticed too and said. “We can wash it tonight when we get back.”
Li Xuan nodded. When they drove out of the residential complex, it was finally quiet—no more people lurking around.
“Will Li Mingge still come looking for trouble?” Sheng Min asked softly after they had driven for a while.
Li Xuan shook his head. “I don’t know… What do you think?”
“Probably not,” Sheng Min murmured after a brief pause.
Li Xuan squeezed the back of his neck and smiled. “Doesn’t matter. Let him be.”
Perhaps preoccupied with handling Shu Xin’s funeral, Li Mingge had gone silent for now. But a few days later, a letter arrived from prison.
Due to the close timing between Shu Xin’s suicide and the murder case, the prison had interrogated Zhao Jizhe again after her death.
And upon hearing of Shu Xin’s passing, Zhao Jizhe’s first reaction was to request a meeting with Li Xuan.
The letter was delivered by the postal service while Sheng Min was home, so Li Xuan didn’t hide it from him, though his expression darkened slightly. As expected, Zhao Jizhe knew Sheng Min’s address.
Li Xuan instinctively tightened his grip on Sheng Min’s hand, though Sheng Min didn’t notice the change. Tilting his head, Sheng Min asked, “Why is it so thick?… Can I open it?”
“There’s no need,” Li Xuan said, but he didn’t stop him.
The envelope wasn’t actually thick. Upon opening it, they found an additional notice from the prison’s psychological correction department.
It stated that Zhao Jizhe was not adjusting well to prison life. He frequently got into fights with other inmates, deliberately caused disturbances, and showed severe self-harming tendencies.
Normally, prisoners could only receive visits from immediate family members, but Zhao Jizhe had no recorded relatives. Given his condition, the prison was willing to make an exception—if Li Xuan was willing, he could apply to visit.
Sheng Min frowned slightly as he read, but before he could comment, Li Xuan asked, “What’s in there? You’ve been reading for a while.”
Sheng Min handed the letter back. Li Xuan glanced at it briefly and remarked flatly, “Prisons offer such thoughtful services these days.” Then, without hesitation, he tossed it into the trash bin. The sharp corner of the letter tore through the garbage bag with a rip, toppling the bin over.
Li Xuan pursed his lips, but Sheng Min had already bent down to pick it up. He turned to meet Li Xuan’s gaze for a moment before Li Xuan finally spoke. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
Sheng Min smiled, draped his arms around Li Xuan’s neck, and leaned in to press a light kiss on his slightly tensed lips. “Mm.”
And so, the letter remained in the trash.
The next day at the theater, Sheng Min received a stack of packages at his office door. Among them, he found an envelope identical to the one Li Xuan had received.
Compared to yesterday’s letter, this one was much shorter.
It contained only a single line: I want to see you.
Sheng Min lowered his gaze, staring at the words.
Then he recalled something—months ago, when he had gone to Li Xuan’s dorm to retrieve his belongings, he had accidentally come across those letters…
“Sheng Min!” Deng Jing pushed the door open and entered. “I thought you weren’t here. I called you several times… What are you zoning out for?”
“Hmm?” Sheng Min quickly put away the letter and looked up. “What’s wrong?”
Deng Jing handed him a cup of hot cocoa. “The water chestnuts I took from your place last time were so sweet. I bought some myself a few times, but they didn’t taste right. Where did you get them?”
“I once visited a plantation while filming. I place an order every year. If you want some, I can have more sent over.”
“I was waiting for you to say that.” Deng Jing grinned. “Send some to Yin Qianpin too, so he won’t take mine.”
“Alright.” Sheng Min nodded, suddenly realizing he hadn’t seen Yin Qianpin today. “Is Director Yin out?”
“You’re helping the assistant director run rehearsals, so of course, he’s slacking off.”
Deng Jing pursed his lips. In reality, Yin Qianpin wasn’t slacking. The theater was expanding, so Yin Qianpin had been busy finding a new place to relocate.
“He’s been saying the space is too small anyway. He might as well take this chance to buy a whole building.” Deng Jing clicked his tongue, looking worried. “He’s got high ambitions but not enough skill. He better not bankrupt himself… The New Year is coming. What if he docks my pay? Hey, why that look? I’m just telling the truth.”
“Then I’ll send you a few more baskets of water chestnuts then. It’s the New Year—you shouldn’t starve.” Sheng Min said seriously.
Deng Jing laughed, but before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. “Teacher Sheng, time for rehearsal.”
“Go ahead.” Deng Jing waved his hand. “I’m heading back to read the script.”
“Wait a second…” Sheng Min suddenly called out.
“What is it?”
He lowered his gaze in thought for a moment. “Cover for me this afternoon. I need to go out.”
….
The visitation room in the prison was simple—a long wooden table, two chairs, and the only decoration: two nearly-withered potted plants on the table.
After waiting in silence for fifteen minutes, footsteps approached the doorway.
The moment Zhao Jizhe saw him, a flicker of surprise flashed across his face. Then, unwilling to give up, he swept his eyes around the small visiting room. After confirming that the person he wanted to see wasn’t there, his expression darkened, and his brows furrowed deeply. But with the prison guard present, he had no room to speak out. He could only listen to the formalities.
“The warden has already made arrangements. The monitoring and recording devices in this room will be temporarily turned off.”
The guard was young and liked to follow celebrity gossip. Even though the visitor wore a hat and mask, the exposed features were still strikingly recognizable.
But since the higher-ups had given instructions, the guard held back his urge to ask for an autograph and instead kept things professional. “For security reasons, the handcuffs cannot be removed. I’ll be right outside. If anything urgent happens, press the alarm button beside you.”
Sheng Min nodded. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The moment the door closed, Zhao Jizhe couldn’t wait to speak. “Where’s Nineteen?”
“He didn’t come.” Sheng Min removed his baseball cap and mask, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
“He didn’t come? Just you? You stopped him from coming, didn’t you?!” Zhao Jizhe accused him irrationally.
Sheng Min replied calmly, “You wrote a letter asking to see me, so I came. Li Xuan doesn’t want to see you, so he didn’t.”
“Why won’t he see me?!” Zhao Jizhe grew agitated, slamming both hands on the table. The metal cuffs clashed against the wood with a harsh sound. “That woman is dead, isn’t she…? Why won’t he see me? Is it because I didn’t manage to kill Li Mingge…? I—”
“You think he would be happy about Shu Xin’s death? That he would even thank you?” Sheng Min interrupted him lightly.
Though his tone was indifferent, the words struck a nerve. Zhao Jizhe’s expression immediately turned hateful. “What do you mean…? You think you understand him?”
“Yes,” Sheng Min answered evenly, his expression calm. “I understand him very well.”
Zhao Jizhe stared at him with cold eyes for a long time before suddenly laughing. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I did write to you, but I didn’t actually expect you to come. Turns out, you’re even more self-righteous than I imagined… What’s so great about you anyway? You’re just some pretty-faced actor—nothing special… Let me tell you, Nineteen is just temporarily fooled by you. It won’t last. He’ll come to his senses soon!”
Sheng Min didn’t respond, simply pouring himself a cup of water from the plain glass teapot on the table. His calmness felt like provocation in Zhao Jizhe’s eyes, fueling his anger. He suddenly grabbed the teapot and smashed it onto the ground. “There’s no way he could love you! He could never truly like men!”
“Behave yourself!” The guard outside rushed in, pushing the door open. “Get down!”
Zhao Jizhe’s chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot, but he stood frozen in place.
“It’s fine,” Sheng Min said steadily. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll pay for the damage.”
The guard scratched his head. “No worries… The inmate’s condition is unstable. Be careful when talking to him. I’ll be right outside—call me if anything happens.”
Still uneasy, the guard checked the cuffs to make sure they were secure and took away the remaining cups before leaving.
The brief interruption did nothing to ease Zhao Jizhe’s hostility. “Do you act this fake in front of Nineteen too? Is this how you tricked him? You think you understand him? Bullshit! I’m the one who knows him best!”
“Is that so?” Sheng Min remained unfazed.
“You don’t believe me?” Zhao Jizhe suddenly smirked, feeling triumphant. His gaze turned sinister as he leaned forward. “I knew him when he wasn’t even as tall as this table leg. More than ten years… Can you compare to that?”
That year, Zhao Jizhe was five when he first met Li Xuan. It was autumn.
The orphanage had a few sparse trees, all killed by an early frost. The fallen leaves piled up, rotting under the rain and giving off a foul smell.
So, all the children were made to clean them up. No one was allowed to eat until the job was done.
Without any tools, everything had to be picked up by hand, bit by bit. It took a long time to finish, and everyone was drenched in sweat. Just when they were at their most exhausted, he saw Li Xuan.
Li Xuan had just registered his information and was being led by an orphanage worker to the dormitory, his face still tense.
“Another one,” a few of the children muttered discontentedly.
This was a small orphanage located in a remote county town, with limited government funding. Many of the supplies were donated by kind-hearted individuals. With more children, the fewer resources there were to go around.
“Hurry up and clean, stop idling, don’t look around!” The aunt who was leading Li Xuan scolded.
“All done, Auntie,” the older kids smiled, trying to please, “It’s all clean.”
“Clean? It’s cleaner than your faces, maybe,” the aunt, who was the most foul-mouthed of the whole orphanage, said. “Now, go back and clean up before you eat, you’re all filthy… Take him inside too.”
She pointed at Li Xuan as if discarding an annoying burden.
The “dormitory” was actually just two small rooms, one for boys and one for girls, with a large communal bed where ten or so children slept together.
As soon as the door closed, the older kids surrounded Li Xuan. They immediately reached for his small backpack.
“Let me check it.”
They said this in a righteous tone, but in reality, they wanted to see if there was any food inside. When children were admitted to the orphanage, they had to take a photo, and the staff usually gave them some sunflower seeds or candy as props to show care, though they weren’t from any good brand. After the photo, the children were allowed to keep them.
Every new child went through this, and out of fear, almost no one resisted.
Li Xuan was the first.
His small hand clung tightly to his backpack, refusing to give it to them, but it was quickly slapped out of his hand and fell to the ground.
“Get out of the way.”
They cursed at him, pulling open his backpack, and spilled everything out onto the floor.
Clothes and books scattered everywhere. They kicked the items around with their toes, eventually finding a few chocolates.
Their eyes lit up, and they scrambled to pick them up.
“There’s more here.”
“Give it all to me!”
The biggest child, who was nearly ten, stood tall among the others and was the favorite of the aunt. Everyone else was afraid of him. Reluctantly, they handed over everything.
He grinned, greedily unwrapping one, and was about to pop it into his mouth. Everyone looked on enviously, swallowing their saliva. None of them noticed when Li Xuan suddenly got up from the floor, his small face stubborn, jumping up to grab the boy’s arm and biting down on his hand.
“Crazy kid! Let go!”
The older boy screamed in pain as the deep bite left a bloody mark on his hand. All the chocolates fell to the ground, and Li Xuan crushed them underfoot.
“Get lost!” The older boy kicked him, knocking him back to the ground.
That day, Li Xuan was beaten, locked out on the balcony, and missed dinner.
This was just the beginning. He had offended the leader of the kids, and under his influence, the others isolated and bullied him.
He was too young, his bones and flesh still soft, yet he had grown sharp edges that lacked any protective barrier. Li Xuan’s stubborn temper made him the target, and he suffered terribly.
They hit him, kicked him, poured cold water on his blanket, and made sure he had nowhere to sleep. They even threw dead cockroaches into his food.
When it went too far, the aunt would intervene, but most of the time, as long as no serious accidents occurred, the adults were indifferent and didn’t care.
At first, Zhao Jizhe was actually happy. After being sent back from a failed adoption, he became the target of mockery. Before Li Xuan came, he had been the one who was bullied.
But as days passed, because Li Xuan refused to yield, he was bullied more and more, and for several days, they wouldn’t even let him into the room, forcing him to kneel and beg for mercy.
But how could Li Xuan yield? His wisdom and stubbornness were beyond his years. The result however was that they knocked his food away and locked him outside the corridor on cold days.
Several times, Zhao Jizhe saw him standing under the moonlight, clearly exhausted but refusing to bend his back. His small figure reminded him of his brother from the family he had been adopted into.
Although it was because his lost brother had been found that he was sent back to the orphanage, Zhao Jizhe remembered how his brother had held his hand and called him “Ge” so obediently. At that moment, he truly felt like part of that family.
Li Xuan was nothing like that obedient brother, but Zhao Jizhe felt a little sympathy.
He secretly snuck out, giving Li Xuan the half steamed bun he had saved from dinner.
Li Xuan looked at him coldly and refused to take it. Zhao Jizhe persuaded him, “Just eat it. You haven’t eaten all day. If you don’t eat, you’ll starve… You won’t be able to wait for your mom and dad to come pick you up.”
Something in his words must have touched Li Xuan, because he silently took the half bun and ate it, quickly wiping his eyes. His childish voice said, “They won’t come.”
From that day on, Zhao Jizhe secretly saved food for him. Li Xuan, who had been indifferent at first, stopped rejecting him once he was really hungry.
This continued for three months. As the Spring Festival approached, a delegation from the Women and Child Health Association came to inspect the orphanage. They happened to witness Li Xuan being beaten and it all ended there.
That was Li Xuan’s plan. He knew they would come that day, so he deliberately provoked the children who had been bullying him, pretending to be scared, and ran into the office where the leaders were having a meeting.
As a result, the orphanage director was reprimanded and fined, and the children who had bullied him were severely punished after the leaders left. Of course, Li Xuan, the one who had exposed everything and caused the orphanage embarrassment, was also locked in solitary confinement. During the years he stayed in the orphanage, his stubborn character led to frequent confinement.
But at least after this incident, the nightmares of being bullied finally came to an end.
