Song Yuzhang: Chapter 29 - Caught Him
Chapter 29: Caught Him
There’s only one airport in Haizhou, shared by both the military and civilians, with layers of checkpoints. After arriving at the location he’d agreed upon with Le Yao’er, Song Yuzhang dismissed the driver and stayed behind to wait alone. He didn’t bring anything with him—aside from his travel pass and plane ticket, he only had two checks. His two muddle-headed elder brothers had, at least, been considerate enough to have the money converted into checks that could be cashed at foreign banks—he’d have real money the moment he landed.
While in the car, Song Yuzhang had indeed felt quite pleased with himself. He thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of manipulating others at the palm of his hand. It felt like a prank—mischievous, but controlled. That said, he rarely let himself enjoy it for too long. A little pride was fine, but losing all sense of proportion? That wasn’t good.
He wore a wide-brimmed black hat, the kind that could cover most of his striking face. With his head slightly lowered, Song Yuzhang lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly, unhurriedly.
After half a cigarette, he lifted his wrist to check the time.
Boarding procedures were complicated, so he’d arranged to meet Le Yao’er at nine o’clock. It was already nine.
Song Yuzhang pulled the cigarette from his mouth and frowned slightly.
This matter was of utmost importance to Le Yao’er. How could she be late?
Song Yuzhang keenly sensed something was off.
And his intuition had always been pretty accurate.
With just one thought, Song Yuzhang had a new plan.
People bustled around him, traffic moved sluggishly. Relaxing his brow, he lowered his head and continued to smoke casually. Just as another car passed close by, he suddenly bent down and slipped forward, using the vehicle as cover to merge into the crowded throng ahead. While walking, he quickly shed his coat and put on sunglasses. He pulled off his tie and casually hung it on a street railing, tossed the hat aside as well, then tousled his neatly-combed hair. Tilting his head, he undid the tight button at his collar and blew out a puff of smoke. In no time at all, Song Yuzhang had transformed from a refined young gentleman into a rakish drifter.
This entire sequence of actions was clearly observed through binoculars by Meng Tingjing, who was watching from a window high above.
As he watched, Meng Tingjing thought to himself, ‘Could he actually be some kind of secret agent?’
Clutching the binoculars tightly, Meng Tingjing gave a cold order. “Stop him at the checkpoint. He’s got decent skills—don’t underestimate him.”
“Yes, sir.”
‘Trying to run? In your dreams.’
Although Song Yuzhang had no idea he was being watched from above, it was clear his plan to play both ends against the middle had sprung a leak. Le Yao’er hadn’t shown up. Maybe something had gone wrong on her end—maybe she’d been exposed. Either way, it didn’t matter now. Other people’s fates weren’t his concern. What mattered most was getting himself out safely.
He probably wouldn’t be able to get on that plane anymore. Something had clearly gone sideways. There was a high chance the checkpoint was already compromised. He might even already have several tails on him.
Haizhou really was a goddamned unlucky place!
Cursing to himself, Song Yuzhang lit another cigarette and ducked into a nearby antique shop.
Meng Tingjing, who’d been watching the scene unfold with great interest from above, frowned when he noticed Song Yuzhang hadn’t headed toward the checkpoint. He quickly set down the binoculars and tossed them to the attendant beside him. “Wait here.” Looks like he had to catch the man himself.
Meng Tingjing rushed downstairs and strode quickly into the antique shop. Inside, the shopkeeper was dusting with a feather duster. Recognizing him, the man greeted him enthusiastically, “Second Young Master Meng!”
Meng Tingjing didn’t waste time. “Where’s the man who just came in?”
The shopkeeper was confused. “You mean...?”
“The one who’s especially good-looking.”
Understanding dawned on the shopkeeper’s face, and he pointed upward. “Went upstairs.”
Meng Tingjing followed immediately. The stairs to the attic weren’t long—just a few steps. He practically flew up them. At the top, he found a small, narrow space, with only the shop owner sitting behind a counter. The man had beady little eyes and a moustache. “Oh, Second Young Master Meng! What brings you here?”
Meng Tingjing ignored him and looked around sharply. “Where is he?!”
“Who?” the shopkeeper asked.
“The one who just came up!”
“That gentleman left right after coming up…”
“Left?” Meng Tingjing looked incredulous. “Impossible—I came straight up from below!”
The shopkeeper stood up and pushed open a small, well-hidden door in the wall behind him. Behind the door was a long flight of stairs. “That gentleman went down this way.”
Meng Tingjing was speechless. His glare was sharp enough to kill. “Why do you have a secret door here? Do you know him? Did he plan this escape with you?!”
The shopkeeper, clearly alarmed by his tone, quickly explained, “Second Young Master Meng, you’ve got the wrong idea! Every antique shop in Haizhou has a back door like this—for safety! It’s to protect customers from getting robbed after a purchase… You can check! Every shop in Haizhou’s the same. I swear, I don’t know that gentleman—I’ve never seen him before…”
Meng Tingjing listened, his expression cold as stone.
Once the shopkeeper had stammered through his explanation, Meng Tingjing gave a small laugh.
That laugh frightened the man into silence.
Then Meng Tingjing turned his head and asked, “Was he pretty?”
The shopkeeper didn’t answer at first, but after Meng Tingjing fixed him with an unblinking stare, he trembled and replied, “I only got a glance…”
“Was he pretty?” Meng Tingjing repeated.
“…Pretty.”
The shopkeeper admitted. Just one look, and that customer’s face was unforgettable.
Meng Tingjing gave another soft laugh. It was as if he were speaking to the shopkeeper, to himself, and to Song Yuzhang all at once. “Just wait and see.”
The shopkeeper watched Meng Tingjing go downstairs with a face full of confusion and inward panic. He had originally intended to see him out, but Meng Tingjing waved his hand to indicate it wasn't necessary.
It wasn’t until Meng Tingjing’s figure disappeared from sight that the shopkeeper finally let out a breath of relief. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and thought to himself, ‘In broad daylight—what kind of situation is this?!’
Recalling Meng Tingjing’s fierce, murderous expression, the shopkeeper wondered again, ‘Was that... a lover's quarrel?!’ As he thought about it, he returned to his seat—only to notice a wave of hot air from behind, which reminded him that he hadn’t closed the door yet. Just as he turned to shut it, he was startled once again.
The stunningly beautiful young man was now standing silently at the top of the staircase behind him. Seeing the shock on the shopkeeper’s face, the man raised a finger to his lips and softly said, “Shh, don’t make a sound.”
The shopkeeper’s mouth hung open, but he truly didn’t make a sound—he was too frightened to speak.
Song Yuzhang stepped into the attic and quietly closed the small door behind him, thinking to himself, ‘So it really is him.’
He wasn’t unfamiliar with this kind of large-scale manhunt.
That bastard Nie Yinbing didn’t have much skill himself, but he had plenty of capable friends—military school classmates who’d nearly run him out of Jiangzhou. He’d barely escaped through wilderness and graveyards.
Looks like being petty is a local specialty of Haizhou.
Standing quietly in the attic, lost in thought, Song Yuzhang gave off a still, statuesque presence. The shopkeeper, still in a panic, began to find the situation surreal. Watching Song Yuzhang standing there like a jade sculpture or fine porcelain, he even suspected the man might be a store antique come to life.
Song Yuzhang hadn’t expected Meng Tingjing to be this difficult. He didn’t know how word got out, but Meng Tingjing had clearly come just to block his escape.
It made no sense.
They hadn’t known each other for long. All he did was refuse to let himself be taken advantage of—was that really such a crime?
He hadn’t even swindled him out of any money, and he even bought him a cake!
Truly heartless and ungrateful.
In his own moral universe, Song Yuzhang promptly crossed out Meng Tingjing’s status as his ‘life-saving benefactor’ and recategorized him as just another ungrateful bastard.
No matter. If he could escape the military school net Nie Yinbing had cast, what was one Meng Tingjing? The Song family thought he was on a plane anyway—he’d lay low for a few days and wear the guy’s patience thin.
Though... he did wonder how Le Yao’er was doing. As he shook his head and started descending the stairs, he mused that swindling was really best done solo—too much stress when collaborating.
The staircase was narrow and dim, creaking under each step. Just as his foot touched the floor, Song Yuzhang’s nerves gave a sharp jolt—but it was already too late.
Song Yuzhang was good at fighting. He had a beautiful face, and that often brought trouble in the underworld. For self-defense, he’d learned martial arts from a troupe’s action performer, thanks to the foresight of Xiao Yingtao, who’d seen his looks and figured it was best to plan ahead. Song Yuzhang had trained well and gained experience brawling with thugs, beggars, and bandits, eventually mastering a rough but highly practical fighting style—dirty tricks and low blows were his specialty.
So when a hand suddenly reached out from the side, he instinctively moved to strike with a backward elbow—aimed straight for the groin.
Unfortunately, his opponent was Meng Tingjing.
Compared to Song Yuzhang’s street brawling, Meng Tingjing was something else. He’d trained under a dockside master and, while studying abroad, often got into fights with burly foreign students. Combining Eastern and Western styles, he specialized in one-hit takedowns.
Song Yuzhang was nearly choked unconscious.
He couldn’t understand how someone as slim as Meng Tingjing could have such terrifying strength. The arm pressed against his collarbone was so heavy he could barely move.
“Caught you.”
Meng Tingjing said with a triumphant little smile beside Song Yuzhang’s ear. “Try to run? Keep dreaming.”
Song Yuzhang panicked at first but quickly composed himself. “Tingjing, what’s the meaning of this?”
“Save it. I’m not in the mood for your talk.”
Meng Tingjing said, voice light and almost playful. “Save it for the little bunnies you like to sweet-talk.”
He practically dragged Song Yuzhang out of the shop like a captured criminal, taking him back to the third floor of a hotel he’d booked. Once inside and after kicking out the people in the room, Meng Tingjing calmly dragged him to the bed, grabbed a tie from nearby, and bound Song Yuzhang’s hands behind his back to the bedframe.
As soon as Song Yuzhang saw that tie, he stopped struggling. It was the very one he’d casually tossed aside on the street. Looks like he really had brought this on himself.
Meng Tingjing stepped back to admire the scene.
Song Yuzhang was half-kneeling beside the bed, hands tied behind him to the iron rail. In his rush, sweat had formed lightly on his forehead—but instead of looking disheveled, it only made his pale, flawless face look even more delicate. He even wore a faint smile. “I didn’t realize you were this angry at me,” Song Yuzhang said. “Tingjing, I truly don’t know how I’ve offended you. I’d appreciate it if you’d explain.”
Meng Tingjing didn’t want to explain.
Being tricked so thoroughly—he didn’t even want to think about it anymore. He had no intention of settling that particular score.
But there were other scores to settle.
With his hands behind his back, Meng Tingjing began listing them one by one.
“On the ship, when you woke up—you squeezed my hand.”
“......”
Song Yuzhang’s lips parted. For the first time, he found himself truly speechless. His gaze betrayed genuine (and unfeigned) bewilderment. “That offended you?”
“You called me baby, dear.”
“......”
Song Yuzhang didn’t know what to say anymore. Either Meng Tingjing was insane, or he was out to get him—wanting to condemn him and not lacking any pretext. There was no room left for defense.
But Meng Tingjing was genuinely, seriously, settling scores with him.
“I kindly lent you my clothes, and you used that to flirt with me, didn’t you?”
That was a misunderstanding—he thought the two of them already knew each other…
Song Yuzhang couldn’t explain himself, nor could he reveal that he wasn’t actually ‘Song Yuzhang.’
Right, he told himself. Stay calm. No matter what, I’m still the fifth young master of the Song family. No matter how crazy Meng Tingjing is, he has to take that into account. Quietly, he swallowed hard to soothe his nerves.
Meng Tingjing sat down on the sofa across from him, lifted the hem of his dark robe, and began leisurely listing all of Song Yuzhang’s offenses: making an appointment only to play games and show up late; acting strangely friendly at the police station; lining up to buy him cake; waiting for him at night to invite him to dinner; grabbing his hand in an alley; making advances in the theater; inviting him to a movie; playing hard to get at the villa…
One accusation after another.
Song Yuzhang was getting a little dizzy listening to it all. He couldn’t help but ask, “Those things offended you?”
Meng Tingjing stared at him silently.
“If I’ve offended you,” Song Yuzhang said, “I can apologize. I’ll stay far away from now on—how about that?”
Still, Meng Tingjing didn’t answer. The corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked, cold smile. “Song Yuzhang, don’t f***ing play dumb with me.”
He stood up, his robe swishing with a sharp, smooth motion. Striding to the bed, he gripped Song Yuzhang’s chin in one hand and jerked his face up harshly. Lowering his head until they were almost nose to nose, Meng Tingjing said in a low voice, “You think I like you, and you wanted to mess with me for fun, didn’t you?”
Song Yuzhang’s instincts screamed that using the kind of sweet talk he normally relied on would only make things worse right now. So he shut his mouth decisively, knowing the less he said, the better.
Meng Tingjing’s lashes lifted slightly, and a cold light swept inch by inch across Song Yuzhang’s face. “A cheap thing like you—what makes you think you’re qualified to flirt with me?”
Song Yuzhang stared into Meng Tingjing’s pitch-black eyes. After a few seconds, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Cheap thing?”
That was a new one—he had to admit, it was a more creative insult than bastard or mutt. Almost amusing.
“What, you don’t agree with being called cheap?” Meng Tingjing raised an eyebrow. “Even someone like Chen Hanmin—you still went for him.”
Song Yuzhang figured that a true man knows when to yield and when to hold firm. Now was definitely the time to avoid provoking Meng Tingjing further. But he couldn’t help teasing this fiery-tempered little beauty just a bit. “That’s only because I hadn’t met someone like you yet—high-class goods.”
Just as expected, Meng Tingjing’s face turned dark immediately, and his grip on Song Yuzhang’s chin tightened painfully. Song Yuzhang laughed through the discomfort. “Easy now. You’ll hurt yourself getting this worked up, and I’ll feel bad.”
“Song Yuzhang!”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m listening.”
Meng Tingjing looked at that composed, smiling face, and the icy anger on his own slowly dissolved. He let go of Song Yuzhang’s chin, lightly patted his handsome face, and smiled faintly. “Alright. Since you like that nickname so much, I’ll pamper you for once tonight—let you be my good, little sweetheart.”
----------
If you like my translation, please support me by buying me a coffee:
0 comments: