Song Yuzhang: Chapter 32 - Xiao Yuxian
Chapter 32: Xiao Yuxian
Haizhou had many ballrooms, and the competition between them was fierce. Among them, Vienna was currently the most popular. Several of Haizhou’s most famous socialites were regulars there. At night, neon lights flashed at the entrance, the air was thick with fragrance, and young boys selling cigarettes, flowers, and candy gathered in crowds, peddling to passersby.
Song Mingzhao said he came to dance, but in reality, he was there to drink. He had no interest in the beautiful socialites and even warned Song Yuzhang to be careful not to fall for their tricks. In his eyes, Song Yuzhang was a gentle and well-behaved younger brother—probably even still a virgin.
In truth, Song Yuzhang rarely came to such pleasure-seeking establishments.
It wasn’t that he was particularly noble—it was just that he had no interest in women.
Thankfully, he had no interest in women. Otherwise, by now, he’d probably have a dozen kids.
After a few drinks, Song Mingzhao started talking nonsense. One moment, he was cursing Song Yuzhang as a bastard, and the next, he was crying and holding his hand, saying the two of them were real brothers. With his handsome and proper features, no one could tell just by looking that he could be so foolish and narrow-minded. He was, in fact, quite charming and lovable.
Song Yuzhang took a sip of his chilled drink, watching with a slight smile as Song Mingzhao lay slumped on the table, his face flushed red.
“Fourth Brother?” Song Yuzhang called softly.
What he got in return was a light snore.
Song Yuzhang chuckled and raised his hand to call a server. “Do you have rooms upstairs?”
“We do.”
“I’ll take one.”
He hoisted Song Mingzhao onto his shoulder, went upstairs, and after tipping the server, dumped him on the bed.
Song Mingzhao wasn’t completely passed out—he mumbled a few things on the bed before turning over and burying his face in the pillow.
Song Yuzhang shook his head with a sigh and went into the bathroom to relieve himself. He washed his hands slowly and carefully, then gazed at his own reflection in the mirror, tilting his chin to see the faint stubble starting to show.
He was burning up.
Bracing his hands on the sink, he smiled and shook his head, silently judging himself: Desperate.
Leaving Song Mingzhao passed out in the room, Song Yuzhang decided to take advantage of being in this place of indulgence to find someone to spend the night with.
No need to be picky. As long as they were good-looking and clean.
Unhurried, he made his way to the stairs at the end of the hallway. Just as he was about to descend, he unexpectedly bumped into someone familiar. The person wore a light-colored robe and had delicate, refined features—completely different from the glamorous appearance he had onstage in women’s clothes. Song Yuzhang didn’t recognize him at first, but as they passed, he said, “Xiao Yuxian?”
Xiao Yuxian had been walking with his head down. The moment he heard someone call his name, his chest jumped in shock. He turned his head in surprise and immediately panicked when he saw it was Song Yuzhang. “Young- young master Song…”
Seeing his flustered expression and realizing where they were, Song Yuzhang immediately understood. He gave a slight nod and turned to leave, not wanting to embarrass Xiao Yuxian any further.
The staircase spiraled. After descending one level, Song Yuzhang sensed a gaze from above. He looked up and caught Xiao Yuxian peeking down at him. As their eyes met, Xiao Yuxian flinched and quickly ducked his head back in.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly and thought, Little rabbit.
After descending a few more steps, his pace slowed, and in the end, he turned around and walked back up, three steps at a time. Xiao Yuxian had already entered the hallway, which was lined with a blood-red carpet. He walked gracefully, with a hint of his stage charm still lingering in his steps.
Song Yuzhang called out to him.
Xiao Yuxian, radiant onstage, didn’t look like an otherworldly beauty offstage—just a delicate young man with soft features. But his enchanting eyes held their own kind of allure.
“What are you doing here?” Song Yuzhang asked gently.
Xiao Yuxian blushed furiously at the question he clearly already knew the answer to and replied in a low voice, “Seeing a friend.”
“I’m a friend too.”
Hearing his playful response, Xiao Yuxian lifted his head.
“I’ve heard you sing. I’ve clapped for you. Doesn’t that make us friends?” Song Yuzhang said.
Xiao Yuxian’s hands and feet were a bit cold. He slowly lowered his head again and whispered, “It does.”
“Then why don’t we find a place to talk?”
“......”
Xiao Yuxian hesitated for a long time before saying softly, “Young Master Shen is still waiting for me…”
Song Yuzhang said slowly and coolly, “Not everything deserves to be called ‘Young Master.’”
(He himself was neither a “thing” nor a “master.”)
Xiao Yuxian naturally knew how powerful the Song family was in Haizhou. After a moment’s pause, he said, “Then I’ll do as you say, Young Master Song.”
Song Yuzhang called a server and asked for another room—right next to the one where Song Mingzhao was sleeping.
As soon as they entered, Xiao Yuxian began trembling. He wore a long robe, so the shaking was very visible—even the folds in the fabric quivered. Song Yuzhang found it amusing and said, “Sit down. Let’s talk.”
He sat down on the sofa, and Xiao Yuxian followed cautiously.
But even after Song Yuzhang sat, Xiao Yuxian remained standing. Song Yuzhang pointed to a spot quite far from himself and said, “Sit.” Only then did Xiao Yuxian sit down.
There were cigarettes and alcohol on the coffee table. Song Yuzhang pulled out a cigarette and was just about to light it when Xiao Yuxian spoke up: “Young Master Song, let me light it for you.”
Song Yuzhang looked at him. Xiao Yuxian was pale, but his expression was gentle—a kind of resignation and obedience. He crouched down, struck a match, and lit the cigarette for him, then looked up at him with timid eyes.
Song Yuzhang took a drag from his cigarette and asked casually, “Got any experience?”
Xiao Yuxian’s face went even paler. “It’s my first time.”
“Why?”
“......”
Xiao Yuxian was silent for a moment before he said, “For money.”
“For money…” Song Yuzhang murmured. His voice and tone were both especially pleasant, laced with the lazy softness of the night.
He asked again, “How much?”
“Ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand?” Song Yuzhang was a little surprised. He said directly, “You’re that expensive?”
Xiao Yuxian flushed red and white. “No, it’s not just for one night.”
“How long?”
“A month.”
“That’s still a lot.”
Song Yuzhang gave an objective evaluation. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and rested his hand, holding the cigarette, on his forehead. “What could make you this desperate for money?”
Xiao Yuxian hadn’t planned on saying anything, but every bit he said might buy him a little more time and spare him some suffering, so he quietly said, “The troupe leader took on some debts—he’s desperate to repay them.”
Song Yuzhang laughed. He took another drag and said, “Don’t tell me your troupe leader and that Shen guy are in on it together, scamming you into selling your body?”
The word ‘selling your body’ came out so bluntly from Song Yuzhang’s mouth that Xiao Yuxian’s face grew even uglier. He lowered his voice and said, “No, the troupe leader really did lose money.”
Song Yuzhang nodded. “Why didn’t Song Qiyuan help you?”
“I didn’t tell Third Young Master.”
“Why not?”
“…Didn’t want to trouble him,” Xiao Yuxian said with difficulty.
Song Yuzhang thought for a moment and asked, “You don’t like men, do you?”
Xiao Yuxian immediately raised his face.
There was no denying Song Yuzhang’s beauty, but his kind of beauty was different from Xiao Yuxian’s—it was sharp, untouchable, a beauty edged with danger. Ordinary people wouldn’t dare approach it lightly.
Xiao Yuxian’s lips trembled as he slowly said, “…No, I don’t.”
Didn’t like men, yet selling himself to one. Song Yuzhang touched his face and bent down to kiss the space between his eyebrows. “Poor thing.”
The kiss didn’t make Xiao Yuxian feel any aversion. Wrapped in Song Yuzhang’s warmth, he almost felt like crying.
“Go lie down.”
Xiao Yuxian resignedly lay on the bed.
He lay perfectly straight, head and feet aligned, hands folded over his abdomen—in a posture fit for a coffin.
Song Yuzhang stood by the bed and said, “Close your eyes.”
Xiao Yuxian obediently closed them.
After a moment, he felt something soft and warm with Song Yuzhang’s scent fall gently onto his face. His hair was also lightly tousled. “This was meant for another poor thing who didn’t want it.” Song Yuzhang’s voice carried a faint smile. “You’re smart—don’t be a whore.”
Xiao Yuxian’s eyes flew open.
His vision was blocked by a thin sheet of paper, and through it he could faintly see a stamp.
It was a check.
A shiver ran through Xiao Yuxian. He didn’t dare touch it—afraid it was just a dream.
“Take this and have your troupe leader return your contract.”
Xiao Yuxian still didn’t move, frozen like a puppet.
“Just sleep here. Don’t want someone grabbing you outside,” Song Yuzhang tapped his nose with a playful smile. “And throwing you into a stew.”
As Song Yuzhang turned to leave, Xiao Yuxian suddenly sat up. He grabbed his sleeve and said in a panic, “Young Master Song, what… what does this mean?”
“What does it mean?” Song Yuzhang glanced at the check on the bed and said casually, “Upping your value. Buying you for one night.”
Xiao Yuxian stammered, “So, so you’re leaving or…”
“What, you really want to offer yourself to me?” Song Yuzhang said with a half-smile.
Though Xiao Yuxian’s face was pale, his expression was firm. “I can’t accept a reward for nothing…”
Song Yuzhang pulled his hand away. “I don’t like forced fruit,” he said playfully. “With my skills, I don’t need to pay for anything.”
Xiao Yuxian stared at him in a daze, his expression a mix of confusion, emotion, and gratitude. His eyes were large and clear, brimming with unshed tears, making them shine all the more. Song Yuzhang touched his face again and said, “Remember—your worth is ten thousand a night. Don’t go selling yourself cheap again.”
In the end, Song Yuzhang went back to the room where Song Mingzhao was sleeping. The man was out cold, snoring like thunder. Song Yuzhang thought to himself—he looks so refined, how come he snores like a wild beast? The mood for a night hunt was completely gone. He considered waking Song Mingzhao to go home, but the man had drink in him and something on his mind—now was the kind of deep, deathlike sleep that nothing could stir.
Song Yuzhang had no choice but to turn and head out the door again.
Damn it, booked two rooms for the night and still couldn’t get any sleep—having money shouldn’t be this pointless.
After thinking for a moment, he turned back and went to the room next door. When he pushed the door open, he saw Xiao Yuxian still sitting dumbly on the bed. The check was still lying off to the side. The sound of the door closing behind Song Yuzhang brought Xiao Yuxian back to his senses. Seeing Song Yuzhang return, he thought he had changed his mind. He quickly got off the bed and knelt down. “Young Master Song…”
Song Yuzhang waved his hand. “Too noisy next door. I can’t sleep.”
Xiao Yuxian was completely confused. Song Yuzhang had already taken off his shoes and coat and lay down on the bed, fully clothed. He stretched a little, trying to shake off his weariness. Then he suddenly remembered something and said to Xiao Yuxian, “Do you know how to do massage?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, give me one.”
Xiao Yuxian quickly sat by the bed and began massaging his legs.
All opera performers know this craft. Otherwise, if they don’t relax properly after training, they’ll be in unbearable pain the next day.
Song Yuzhang was enjoying the massage. Half-jokingly, he said, “If you stop performing opera, you could change professions.”
Xiao Yuxian was finally beginning to recover his thoughts. He looked at Song Yuzhang, his eyes full of admiration and happiness. “Mm. If I succeed in the future, I will.”
Song Yuzhang smiled at him. “Your Yutang Chun performance was very good.”
“I have ones I’m even better at. Would you like to hear one, Young Master Song?”
“Middle of the night, and you want to sing opera?” Song Yuzhang stretched lazily again and slowly closed his eyes. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me when it’s light.”
Xiao Yuxian continued diligently massaging him for a while until Song Yuzhang truly fell into a deep sleep. Only then did he stop. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at Song Yuzhang’s sleeping face, thinking—if he really was sold to this man, he wouldn’t feel wronged at all.
Xiao Yuxian knelt and silently said in his heart to the sleeping Song Yuzhang, “Young Master Song, thank you. I, Li Xiaotian, will remember your kindness for the rest of my life.”
Xiao Yuxian barely slept that night. He clutched the check, watching over Song Yuzhang like a devotee before a Bodhisattva, thinking how incredibly lucky he was. When dawn broke outside the window, he remembered Song Yuzhang’s instruction and went over to wake him. Song Yuzhang woke instantly, his lashes fluttering a bit. In a hoarse voice, he asked, “Is it morning?” He glanced at the clock and saw it was already six o'clock. Lying there, he blinked a few more times, and once he was fully awake, he sat up and said to Xiao Yuxian, “Can you get home by yourself?”
“Yes.”
Song Yuzhang didn’t say much else. He picked up his coat and started putting it on. Xiao Yuxian quickly grabbed his shoes and helped him put them on. Song Yuzhang accepted his attentiveness without hesitation. The two left the room together. Xiao Yuxian noticed a wrinkle on his collar and carefully smoothed it out.
Looking at him fuss like a little wife, Song Yuzhang found it amusing and lightly pinched his cheek.
Xiao Yuxian didn’t mind being pinched. If Song Yuzhang wanted, he could pinch him anywhere.
“Young Master Song,” Xiao Yuxian said with deep affection in his eyes, “Thank you.”
Song Yuzhang knew he only looked like a bunny—he wasn’t really one. He let go, gave Xiao Yuxian a light pat on the shoulder, and said, “Go home.”
Xiao Yuxian gazed at him with eyes full of reluctance and gratitude, said his goodbye, and turned to leave, walking away step by step as though treading on lotus flowers. Daytime in Vienna was quiet, and his light footsteps carried a hint of joy—until they abruptly stopped at the final step.
At the top of the stairs, someone had dragged over a chair and was sitting on it grandly, cigar as thick as a finger in hand. Hearing footsteps, the man looked up and grinned like a gangster. “Well, I thought you’d really turned into an immortal and flown off.”
----------
If you like my translation, please support me by buying me a coffee:
0 comments: