Song Yuzhang: Chapter 48 - To Compete
Chapter 48: To Compete
“Yekang told me you've been working hard at the bank?” Song Zhenqiao said with a face full of fatherly affection.
Song Yuzhang smiled. “Second Brother’s just trying to make you happy.”
Song Zhenqiao said, “He’s not the type to humor me. I’ve already got one foot in the grave—nobody bothers to pay attention to this sick old man anymore. Come, Yuzhang, sit down. Tell me what you’ve been learning at the bank.”
Song Yuzhang sat down and slowly began to recount what he had learned from Liu Chuanzong over the past few weeks. As usual, he didn’t hide anything—there was no point. After all, Liu Chuanzong was one of Song Zhenqiao’s most trusted men. He wouldn’t switch allegiances over a few words. Song Zhenqiao would surely find out everything from Liu Chuanzong anyway. Besides, Song Yuzhang also wanted to use this opportunity to test the waters, to see what kind of plans his father might have in mind for his youngest son.
At first, Song Zhenqiao seemed to be listening intently, but gradually, his eyes began to close.
Song Yuzhang suspected he’d fallen asleep. He lowered his voice and gently called, “Father?”
Song Zhenqiao didn’t respond—he had peacefully drifted off.
After standing quietly for a moment, Song Yuzhang left the room. He closed the door behind him and called for a nurse to ask about his father’s condition. The nurse’s answer was the same as always—the illness was like a time bomb; no one knew when it would go off.
Song Yuzhang then returned to Nie Bonian’s room.
Now that the room had more people in it, the atmosphere had become livelier. As he pushed open the door, he heard Song Yekang telling jokes to amuse Nie Bonian. Nie Bonian’s laughter was soft and a little tired.
“Bonian must be worn out. Eldest Brother, should we head out?”
“You feel like sleeping?”
“Mm.”
After a bit of quiet rustling, the three of them came out. Standing at the door, Song Yuzhang turned to them with a smile. “Bonian’s asleep?”
Nie Qingyun glanced at Nie Xueping. He replied, “Asleep.”
Song Yuzhang nodded. “Then I won’t go in.”
Song Yekang said, “Did you visit Father? He seemed in decent spirits today. Ever since you came back, it’s like he’s found new energy.”
“Is that so? Then I suppose coming back at the risk of death wasn’t in vain,” Song Yuzhang said, half-jokingly.
The four of them were about to head back the way they came. At the entrance, Nie Qingyun said she’d ride back with her eldest brother. Nie Xueping agreed, and Song Yekang didn’t object. The brothers and sister got into their separate cars, which sat side by side. As the windows rolled down, Nie Qingyun cheerfully waved goodbye to the Song brothers. Song Yekang returned her wave from outside the car, and Song Yuzhang leaned forward slightly, revealing a profile as handsome as it was smiling.
As the cars started to move, Nie Qingyun sighed, “The fifth Song brother really is good-looking, don’t you think, Eldest Brother?”
Nie Xueping didn’t answer. “Why do you always have to talk about how other people look?”
Nie Qingyun laughed. “You’re such a stick in the mud, Eldest Brother. It’s just a compliment—it’s not like I said he was ugly.”
Nie Xueping looked out the window, clearly uninterested in continuing the discussion.
Nie Qingyun had told Song Yekang earlier that she and her brothers weren’t very close, but truthfully, she got along quite well with both of them. Feeling playful, she mimicked Nie Bonian’s childish tone and teased, “Come on, Eldest Brother, just say it—don’t you think the fifth brother is super handsome?”
She chattered on for a few more sentences until Nie Xueping finally turned his face toward her, giving her a flat, dispassionate look. Only then did she stop, pouting slightly in surrender.
Back at the Song residence, Song Mingzhao was idly playing tennis. When he saw the car pulling in, he twisted his wrist and put away the racket. Glancing over, he saw Song Yekang and Song Yuzhang getting out, laughing and talking.
“Fourth Brother, you’re back?” Song Yekang waved cheerfully.
Song Mingzhao bounced the tennis ball on the lawn and caught it again. He smiled and said, “Yeah, Second Brother, you just finished your business? And Fifth Brother, how come you’re back so early today, too? Were you out having fun with Second Brother?”
Song Yekang answered for him, “Fifth Brother’s not like you with all your free time. Bonian’s sick. Qingyun and I went to see him. She said Bonian was missing him, so we brought him along. You left too early, otherwise, we would’ve taken you too.”
A sharp pang of jealousy stirred in Song Mingzhao’s heart. His hand clenched around the tennis ball, and he said, “Is that so? I’m not as close to the Nie family as you are, Second Brother. Even if we bumped into each other, there’s not much to say.”
Song Yekang never took this ‘useless’ Fourth Brother seriously. Since Mingzhao hadn’t given him face at the racetrack, he was happy now to return the favor and make him uncomfortable.
This was standard fare between the Song brothers— Song Mingzhao just usually wasn’t strong enough to handle it. Nobody respected him, and they didn’t even bother to mock him most of the time.
Song Yekang leaned closer and murmured a few words to Song Yuzhang—nothing special, just for show, just to get under Song Mingzhao’s skin.
Song Mingzhao’s possessiveness toward Song Yuzhang struck Song Yekang as both ridiculous and childish.
A good-for-nothing like him actually has feelings?
Song Yekang walked away with flair, leaving Song Mingzhao behind, still gripping the tennis ball and glaring at Song Yuzhang. Song Yuzhang gave him a gentle smile, which only made Song Mingzhao snap—he hurled both the racket and the ball onto the grass and stormed off. Song Yuzhang quickly followed and grabbed his hand.
“Fourth Brother.”
Song Mingzhao shook him off, yanking off his gloves as he walked. He threw them on the ground, and Song Yuzhang quietly followed, picking them up behind him.
Song Mingzhao stomped upstairs, thudding all the way up. Song Yuzhang followed unhurriedly, all the way to Song Mingzhao’s room. As soon as he stepped inside, he was caught in an embrace.
Song Mingzhao had spent the day riding and playing tennis, baking in the sun, and now his whole body radiated heat as he burrowed into Song Yuzhang’s neck.
“Fourth Brother…”
Song Yuzhang wrapped his arms around Song Mingzhao’s waist and gently said, “Second Brother was just teasing you. Are you really mad?”
Song Mingzhao sniffed the scent on Song Yuzhang and was too upset to even pretend to smile. He said angrily, “You’re busy, so I don’t bother you—but when you finally have time, you’d rather visit outsiders than come see me!”
“That’s not it. Didn’t you hear what Second Brother said? He and Qingyun asked me to go—”
Song Mingzhao lifted his face, redder and more miserable than the sick Nie Bonian. “Then why didn’t you ask me to come too?”
Song Yuzhang’s hands, now hanging at his sides, were tightly held in Song Mingzhao’s embrace, like a cool, pristine bouquet. He smiled and said, “Didn’t you say you had nothing to talk about with the Nie family?”
Song Mingzhao grew even more upset by his teasing, but this kind of upset was different from how he’d felt toward Song Yekang. When he was mad at Song Yuzhang, all he wanted to do was mess with him—bite him, roll all over him. When it came to Song Yekang, though, he just wanted to give him a good kick.
Through the fabric of his shirt, Song Mingzhao bit down on Song Yuzhang’s shoulder—not hard, but just enough to express his pouting frustration. After two small bites, Song Yuzhang wrapped his arms around him in return.
His embrace was gentle but firm, enough to make Song Mingzhao pause. Mingzhao turned his head, gazing at his composed profile, and murmured, “Xiao Yu…”
Song Yuzhang gently stroked his back.
Song Mingzhao, who loved sports, had a healthy, well-built body. His spine was a straight row of strong bones, his muscles firm and springy—like a little wild horse, with all the charm, spirit, and stubbornness that implied.
To Song Yuzhang, he was like a small, delicious dessert within easy reach—something to savor lightly during moments of peace.
After the roughhousing, the two of them sat calmly on the sofa, chatting. Song Mingzhao clearly laid out the malicious undertone behind Song Yekang’s earlier words, scoffing, “He did it on purpose, just to piss me off and make me fight with you.”
Song Yuzhang smiled at him. “You’re a smart guy, Fourth Brother. Why would you still fall for it?”
Song Mingzhao shrugged it off. “That’s all the tricks he’s got. Let’s just weigh the depth of his intentions and be done with it.”
“So it was all an act just now, huh?” Song Yuzhang teased.
Song Mingzhao looked at him, his eyes shining mischievously. He suddenly pounced and messed around with him again. When they finally settled down, his face beamed with satisfaction. “Bit you twice—taught you a lesson.”
Leaning half against Song Yuzhang’s chest, he toyed with his fingers and asked, “You went to the hospital. Did you see Father?”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked me about the bank.”
Song Mingzhao spread and folded his fingers, then sighed deeply, eyes fixed on the chandelier above them. He murmured, “Father really values you.”
Song Yuzhang lowered his gaze. “Fourth Brother, do you want to join the bank?”
Song Mingzhao replied, “It’s not about what I want. If Father doesn’t give the nod, no one’s touching the bank.”
Song Yuzhang was quiet for a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder—how could someone like Song Zhenqiao, who kept everything close to the chest, show such favor to an illegitimate child? He knew he was charming, sure—but this was the family bank they were talking about.
While he was lost in thought, Song Mingzhao sat up and slung an arm around his shoulder, leaning close to his ear. “Xiao Yu… do you want the bank?”
Something stirred in Song Yuzhang’s heart. His gaze slowly, deliberately landed on Song Mingzhao’s face.
There was a softness and probing light in Song Mingzhao’s eyes. “Xiao Yu… do you?”
‘Ambition’ isn’t something you can ever fully hide. No matter how well you mask it, it eventually leaks out. If Song Yuzhang were truly the fifth young master of the Song family, he wouldn’t mind playing the long game—keeping a low profile, moving slowly but steadily toward his goal.
But the problem was—his identity had an expiration date.
Once Nie Yinbing returned, even if he tried to deny everything, suspicion would inevitably rise.
Not to mention, there was still the unpredictable Song Qiyuan.
He had no choice but to go all in.
No risk, no reward. If he didn’t push forward now, he’d never get what he wanted.
He had to become Song Yuzhang—to the point where even if everyone knew he was fake, they’d still have no choice but to treat him like the real one.
To pull that off, and in such a limited window of time, he needed allies.
Song Mingzhao was a fringe figure in the Song family—abandoned, exiled, a useless chess piece.
“Yeah,” Song Yuzhang gently pinched Mingzhao’s cheek, lowering his lashes as he spoke in a soft voice, “Fourth Brother, I want the family bank.”
Song Mingzhao’s expression shifted. He clenched his teeth. “So it’s true, you do have big ambitions—just like Second Brother said!”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “Disappointed?”
A cold glint sparked in Song Mingzhao’s eyes. He stared hard at Song Yuzhang—his head slightly bowed, his fair forehead unblemished, long dark eyebrows, a faint shadow in his eye sockets that gave him a hint of melancholy.
Song Mingzhao touched his cheek, pressing his forehead to Song Yuzhang’s. In a low voice, he said, “Who wouldn’t want it? Father likes you, so you’ve got the right. You’re no worse than any of them. Fight them for it. Win or lose, I’ll be by your side.”
Song Yuzhang pulled him into a hug.
In that embrace, mingled breath and warmth, Song Mingzhao felt a kind of shared vulnerability and closeness.
He was the unloved son. Song Yuzhang was the illegitimate one cast out into the world.
Who could rely on whom? They could only rely on each other.
Love turned into a kind of defiant courage in Song Mingzhao’s chest. “Xiao Yu, don’t worry. I’ll help you!”
Resting his head on Song Mingzhao’s shoulder, Song Yuzhang gazed lazily at the sunset outside the window and murmured, moved, “Thanks, Fourth Brother.”
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