Song Yuzhang: Chapter 24 - Meeting Between The Two Families
Chapter 24: Meeting Between The Two Families
Chen Hanmin cursed the ancestors of the other country’s representative in a fit of rage and stormed out of the shop. He kept his head down and charged forward, nearly losing control when someone grabbed him. “Screw your mother, I’ll—”
The words caught in his throat the moment he saw it was Song Yuzhang holding his arm. His eyes widened to an absurd size, lips trembling as he stammered, “M-Mr. Song…”
Song Yuzhang smiled slightly. “Didn’t expect you knew how to curse.”
Chen Hanmin lowered his head in shame.
“What happened?” Song Yuzhang asked gently.
Chen Hanmin looked even thinner than when Song Yuzhang last saw him. His face seemed sunburnt from being out at sea, blackened and red, giving him a rather desolate look. “Nothing… just family stuff…”
“Need any help?” Song Yuzhang asked.
Chen Hanmin flinched. He looked up with watery eyes. “Didn’t you… didn’t you say we weren’t… on good terms anymore?”
Song Yuzhang let go of his arm. Without replying, he pulled a check from Bank of America out of the inner pocket of his coat—the one Song Yekang had given him before—and held it out. Chen Hanmin recoiled as if it burned him. “No need!”
“Really no need?” Song Yuzhang looked at him.
“Really,” Chen Hanmin said firmly.
“You drove here?” Song Yuzhang asked.
Chen Hanmin pointed to a Buick parked by the street.
So he could still afford a car. Things couldn't be too bad. Song Yuzhang didn’t insist. He gave a small nod. “Take care.” Then he returned to the Song family’s car. Inside, Song Mingzhao had his legs crossed, looking amused. “You and the Chen kid seem to get along pretty well?”
“We met on the ship. I’d say we’re comrades through hardship,” Song Yuzhang replied with a smile.
“Better keep your distance,” Song Mingzhao said. “The Chen family stinks of trouble these days.”
He had already hinted at it right after they came out of the tailor shop. Song Yuzhang had asked, “The Chen family?”
Song Mingzhao spoke of Haizhou like it was the back of his hand. He could dish out an entire tale about anyone.
The Chen family had long been among the wealthy elites of Haizhou, mainly in the cotton and textile business. But in recent years, they’d been declining. Foreigners had set up factories in Haizhou, with more advanced machinery and government-favored policies. The Chen family found themselves under attack from all sides, clearly heading toward ruin.
“Old Master Chen’s been seeking help everywhere, trying everything. He even came to our bank several times. Now, when Eldest Brother and Second Brother see someone from the Chen family, they run the other way,” Song Mingzhao sneered. “Old Master Chen still doesn’t get it—he called his son back to meet the Meng family’s daughter. What’s the point? Tingjing isn’t stupid. And besides, daughters born from concubines—how could they ever compare to a daughter from a first wife like our sister-in-law?”
He paused and realized he’d just said something inappropriate. He quickly glanced at Song Yuzhang, only relaxing when he saw his expression was calm. Then again, he thought, What am I afraid of? So what if we’re trying to win him over? Am I seriously scared of this illegitimate brat?
But Song Yuzhang hadn’t been thinking about any of that. He was just struck by how unpredictable life was.
Just over a month ago, Chen Hanmin had been a flirtatious, carefree young master. After surviving a near-death experience, he’d thought it was a blessing—but it turned out that worse hardships awaited him on land.
Why had Song Yuzhang liked young masters? Because their families were rich. Love didn’t matter—it would fade with time. Money always brought pleasure back around.
But now, Chen Hanmin was really in trouble. No love left, and soon, no money either.
Though Song Yuzhang no longer liked him, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
It was just sympathy.
Nothing more.
Three days later, the clothes were finished. The tailor had worked overtime to rush them out. Song Mingzhao still wasn’t quite satisfied, complaining that the other brothers hadn’t made proper arrangements for Song Yuzhang—couldn’t even get him a decent set of clothes.
Song Yuzhang put on the new outfit.
The mirror reflected a striking, opulent young gentleman.
He had always been presentable, but never this refined. The coat was pure black, but not dull—it had a subtle sheen that hinted at the quality of the fabric. The fit sculpted his body so perfectly it brought out every graceful line of his frame. With Song Yuzhang’s stunning features and equally excellent bone structure, the outfit amplified his beauty to the point it practically stunned the eye.
Song Mingzhao stared, momentarily speechless. After a pause, he said sincerely, without a trace of exaggeration, “Fifth Brother, you’re too good-looking.”
He added, “I almost don’t want to let you go out like this.”
This kind of beauty was artistic—the kind that made people want to collect and keep it all to themselves.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly. Song Mingzhao circled around him, clicking his tongue in amazement, and suddenly had a fun idea. “Fifth Brother, let’s dance!”
“Dance?”
Song Mingzhao struck a pose. Song Yuzhang recognized it as a ballroom dance hold and shook his head with a soft smile. “I don’t know how to follow.”
“Come on,” Song Mingzhao said, excited. “Just for fun.”
Song Yuzhang didn’t fuss. He placed his hand in position.
The Song sons were all tall and long-limbed. Song Mingzhao and Song Yuzhang were about the same height. As they embraced in dance, Song Mingzhao laughed first. “Fifth Brother, you smell really nice.”
“It’s the scent from the clothes,” Song Yuzhang said.
Song Mingzhao stepped back with him; Song Yuzhang followed along in sync.
“Foreigners are like that—after finishing the clothes, they have to spray on perfume.”
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly and didn’t speak.
He was always quiet, carrying with him a kind of mystery. Out of the corner of his eye, Song Mingzhao glanced at him and suddenly noticed how thick and long Song Yuzhang’s eyelashes were. That kind of beauty had a powerful allure regardless of gender—it was hard to look away.
As they continued walking, Song Yuzhang suddenly stopped. Song Mingzhao was startled. “What’s wrong?”
His tone was soft—soft like someone enchanted.
Song Yuzhang pulled his hand away and turned around. “Third Brother.”
Song Mingzhao looked up and finally noticed Song Qiyuan leaning against the doorway. “Third Brother?” He straightened up and smiled brightly. “You're finally back. We were just talking about you at dinner yesterday. How do you walk without making a sound?”
Song Qiyuan leaned lazily against the doorframe, looking tired, the corners of his lips curving slightly. “Is it that I walk without a sound, or are you just too into what you’re doing?”
Song Mingzhao’s face flushed for some reason. “It’s been a while since I danced. A little rusty.”
Song Qiyuan kept that faint smile as he looked at Song Yuzhang, who stood quietly nearby. His gaze flickered slightly, and he crooked a finger at Song Yuzhang in a flippant, playful manner. “Come here.”
Song Mingzhao’s expression changed slightly. Song Yuzhang ignored Song Qiyuan and said to Song Mingzhao, “I’m going to go change. Don’t want to get the clothes dirty.”
“Alright, go on,” Song Mingzhao replied.
After Song Yuzhang went inside, Song Mingzhao strode forward and confronted Song Qiyuan at the doorway. “Third Brother, what’s with you? You’re being way too obvious.”
“What’s with me?” Song Qiyuan was all lazy limbs, like he had no bones, but his eyes were sharp. “I should be asking what’s with you.” He reached out and gave Song Mingzhao’s cheek a light slap. Song Mingzhao flinched and frowned, but Song Qiyuan continued, “Fourth Brother, don’t get addicted to being an elder brother. Getting flattered until you forget your own name—what a fool.”
Song Mingzhao was thoroughly displeased.
He’d taken all the crap that came with being the youngest—from his father, from his brothers—everyone could boss him around, but he never got any of the perks. No one ever doted on him. Everyone thought he was an idiot.
“I’m the fool? And you’re the only one who sees things clearly? You couldn’t beat Eldest Brother or Second Brother, so you come here to show off to me? Go to your precious Xiao Yuxian in White Tower! He’s the one who smiles at you willingly!”
For once, Song Mingzhao stood his ground—then ran off immediately, knowing full well that Third Brother wasn’t someone to mess with.
By the time Song Yuzhang came back out, both Song Mingzhao and Song Qiyuan were gone. The room was empty and the door wide open. Song Qiyuan had come quietly, left quietly—like a ghost. A ghost didn’t show up often, but once it did, it stuck around and wouldn’t let go.
Song Yuzhang folded his arms and let out a quiet laugh.
Song Qiyuan was quite something. He’d figured it out: Song Qiyuan didn’t trust him. He probably knew something the other three brothers didn’t. The four brothers of the Song family all worked separately, and it wasn’t surprising that they didn’t share intel.
But Qiyuan didn’t expose him, didn’t confront him, just let him keep playing the role of “Fifth Young Master Song.”
Why?
Song Yuzhang sat down at the desk and began to slowly ponder the question.
He really couldn’t figure it out. Maybe this Third Young Master Song was just eccentric— when the shows at the opera house weren’t entertaining enough, he came home to watch a play instead?
Song Yuzhang traced light circles with his fingertips on the desk, finding it all rather amusing.
He was confident—he figured he probably wasn’t any worse a performer than Xiao Yuxian.
So what should his stage name be? He was Xiao Yingtao’s(Little Cherry) son—should he be called Xiao Putao(Little Grapes)? Xiao Xigua(Little Watermelon)? Song Yuzhang chuckled. Xiao Xigua didn’t sound great. How about Shanzha(Hawthorn)? Xiao Shanzha(Little Hawthorn). About the same size and color as cherries.
When the day of the meeting finally arrived, Song Yuzhang realized that although it was just a family visit, the arrangements were no small affair.
When they arrived, he saw that the meeting location was a standalone private residence. The outer garden walls were covered in climbing roses, giving it a fairytale-like charm. Ever since that sarcastic exchange with Song Qiyuan, Song Mingzhao had pulled back a bit and wasn't as warm to him anymore. So no one had explained to Song Yuzhang exactly where they were going—not even who this ‘Qingyun’ girl was. Frankly, he didn’t really care.
The servants at the residence had been waiting. As soon as the Song family car pulled up, someone came to open the door.
Song Yuzhang got out of the car and looked back at the house. It was snow-white, with soft lines, delicate and elegant, giving off a fresh fragrance.
This time, all five Song brothers were present. They stood together, about the same height, each handsome in their own way, striking and distinguished. The well-trained servants didn’t dare look twice.
When Song Jincheng led his brothers through the gates, he carried the air of a family patriarch in command.
Among Haizhou’s wealthy families, the Song family was the last remaining enigma. The Chen family was on the decline. Chen Song was desperate to have his son return to take charge—not that it helped much, but at least it signaled a shift in power. Nowadays, men around his age were the ones taking the reins in their households. The Chen family’s son was still a young brat, even Meng Tingjing was younger than him. Everyone else was stepping up—only he hadn’t. Only he was left behind.
And today, he was meeting the one person he felt truly resonated with him. He believed that one day, he would be just as powerful and unstoppable.
Song Yekang was a fool. What was the point of marriage? Relying on his wife’s family for support? A joke. He didn’t even care about whether his own brothers lived or died—like he had the time to care about a sister? Give me a break.
Song Yuzhang, knowing his ‘unusual appearance,’ kept his head slightly lowered, trying not to draw attention. But even so, he was still the most eye-catching of the five Song brothers. As soon as they stepped inside, a clear, lively voice rang out—somewhat familiar: “Brother! Pretty brother!”
Song Yuzhang looked up slightly and saw an adorable little boy staring at him with delight. The boy was holding hands with a man, tugging eagerly, practically bouncing. “Dad, it’s the pretty brother!”
The man holding the child had a calm expression and wore a dark Chinese Tunic suit, impeccably fitted. When Song Yuzhang looked his way, the man nodded politely and tightened his grip on the child’s hand, lowering his head and speaking sternly: “Bonian.”
The little boy named ‘Bonian’ was called out by his father and immediately looked a bit ashamed. “Sorry, Daddy, I judged someone by their appearance again.”
He spoke in a soft, childish voice, but his words were surprisingly mature. Song Jincheng laughed heartily and said, “Children speak without malice. Bonian, come here. Uncle Song will introduce someone to you. This is your fifth uncle from the Song family, Song Yuzhang.” He waved Song Yuzhang over and pulled him to his side, then smiled and pointed at the little boy. “This is Bonian,” he then turned to the handsome man and said with a smile, “And this is Bonian’s father—your second brother’s girlfriend’s biological older brother, Nie Xueping.”
Nie Xueping gave a slight nod to Song Yuzhang, who returned the gesture politely—though a sharp tremor passed through him inside. Nie Yinbing, Nie Xueping… Those names sounded far too much like they belonged to the same family.
The Song brothers exchanged polite greetings with the Nie father and son. Someone asked how Nie Bonian had met Song Yuzhang. Despite being small, Nie Bonian spoke clearly and fluently, recounting exactly when he’d met Song Yuzhang at the hospital, what he’d said, and what Song Yuzhang had replied—with startling accuracy.
“Bonian is really smart,” Song Jincheng said, not without a hint of envy.
Nie Xueping gently touched the top of his son's head, neither agreeing nor denying it.
Song Yekang asked, “Where’s Qingyun?”
“Aunt’s still getting dressed,” Nie Bonian chirped brightly.
Song Yekang laughed, his voice warm. “Upstairs?”
Bonian nodded, “That’s right.”
“Then, Bonian, could you go up and check if she’s done getting ready?”
Bonian nodded again and looked up at his father. “Daddy, I’m going upstairs.”
Nie Xueping released his hand. “Go on.”
Bonian took a few steps, then turned back, his eyes testing as they landed on Song Yuzhang. “Brother Yuzhang, do you want to come upstairs with me and see my aunt? She’s really pretty too.”
The Song brothers burst into laughter. Even the always composed Song Mingzhao couldn’t help but shove Song Yekang lightly. “See what I said? Never mind if Qingyun likes you or not—Bonian clearly doesn’t think much of you.”
Amid the laughter, a bright, clear female voice came from upstairs: “Song Mingzhao, what are you laughing at? I heard you all the way up here.”
Song Mingzhao had once been classmates with Nie Qingyun and they had a good relationship. He laughed and replied, “Hurry down! If you don’t, Second Brother’s coming up to drag you!”
With the sound of ‘da-da-da’ high heels on stairs, Nie Qingyun appeared in front of them in a stylish Western dress.
Nie Qingyun did not disappoint. The moment she laid eyes on them, she exclaimed, “Oh my, where did this handsome young man come from?”
Bonian had found a kindred spirit. He skipped up to pull her hand. “Aunt, this is Fifth Uncle Song—the pretty big brother I saw at the hospital last time!”
The aunt and nephew stood hand-in-hand, both showing expressions of wonder and amazement, which brought another round of laughter from the crowd.
Only Song Yuzhang didn’t quite smile. His peripheral vision was fixed on the staircase, half-afraid that at any moment a tall, upright Nie Yinbing would descend and shoot him on the spot.
Thankfully, no one else came.
Everyone had arrived.
The servants led them to their seats. Song Yuzhang ended up sitting beside Song Qiyuan.
As the servants unfolded and laid out napkins, Nie Qingyun was still marveling. “Yuzhang, you’re younger than me, right?”
Song Yuzhang smiled and nodded.
“Oh my…” Nie Qingyun sighed in admiration. She turned and jokingly frowned at Song Yekang, “Why don’t you look anything like your brother?”
Something stirred in Song Yuzhang’s heart. He really wanted to glance at Song Qiyuan beside him, but resisted.
“Well, we can’t all look that pretty, can we?” Song Yekang seemed entirely unbothered. “Us brothers never looked that alike anyway.”
Nie Qingyun sighed. “I guess I just had bad luck.”
Song Yekang chuckled, “What can I say? You met me too late.”
The meal was warm and cheerful. Song Yuzhang played a role not unlike that of a decorative vase, keeping his head down and focusing on the food.
After the meal, the group moved to the garden to relax. It was clear Nie Bonian was quite taken with Song Yuzhang—he kept staring at him. His father subtly turned his head away a few times, but Bonian kept turning back.
Children’s love for beauty is always unfiltered. It made Nie Xueping feel awkward. He pulled Bonian into his lap and whispered, “This is too impolite.”
Bonian clearly understood but turned red in the face and hugged his father’s neck. “Daddy, I can’t help it.”
Nie Xueping looked utterly helpless. His gaze slid toward Song Yuzhang—and found him already watching them. Their eyes met. Song Yuzhang gave a small nod. Nie Xueping froze for a moment, then quietly looked away.
“Eldest Brother,” Song Yuzhang said to Song Jincheng, who was chatting with the others. “I’m going to the restroom.”
He stood up and, as he passed the father and son, paused. Nie Xueping looked up. Song Yuzhang smiled and said, “I’m not familiar with this place and might get lost. May I trouble your son to show me the way?”
At the sound of his voice, Bonian couldn’t help but look up. At once, he scrambled down from his father’s lap. “I know the way! Brother, I’ll take you!”
“Oh, you little rascal,” Nie Qingyun laughed and came over to pinch Bonian’s cheek playfully. But Bonian had already dodged and grabbed Song Yuzhang’s hand, his smile like a crescent moon.
Seeing the young man’s gentle demeanor, Nie Xueping gave a faint nod. “Thank you.”
Song Yuzhang only smiled and said nothing as he followed Bonian inside.
Outside it was still warm, but indoors the air was cool. Holding Bonian’s hand, Song Yuzhang spoke softly, “Where’s the restroom? Could you lead the way for me?”
“Don’t worry, brother,” Bonian said confidently. “I know this place well.”
Though he was small, Bonian was impeccably dressed, even with a handkerchief pinned neatly at his collar. Song Yuzhang, holding his soft little hand, bent down and lifted him up into his arms. Bonian sat on his arm, admiring the beautiful face up close—and was so stunned he couldn’t close his mouth.
As they walked, Song Yuzhang asked casually, “So your name is Bonian, right?”
Bonian nodded. “Yes! Nie Bonian. ‘Bo’ like Bo Ya, ‘Nian’ like New Year.”
“Such a nice name,” said Song Yuzhang with a smile. “Do you know how to write it?”
Bonian nodded again. “I do!”
He used his tiny finger to write the characters in Song Yuzhang’s palm.
“Impressive,” said Song Yuzhang. “Do you know how to write your aunt’s name?”
“I do that too!”
Not one to miss a chance to show off, Bonian also wrote ‘Nie Qingyun’ and ‘Nie Xueping,’ one after another. Then, with eager excitement, he added, “I can even write my second uncle’s name. I learned how to write all my family’s names when I was three!”
So, Song Yuzhang watched as the boy’s tiny finger wrote three flowing, swift characters into his palm— Nie Yinbing.
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