Song Yuzhang: Chapter 58 - Fall Ill
Chapter 58: Fall Ill
“Second Master, how come you rode back on horseback? If you'd told us ahead of time, we could’ve gone to pick you up. Wow, that horse is beautiful.”
“There was a situation on the road,” Nie Yinbing replied succinctly, his hand gently stroking the horse's belly. “Is anyone home?”
“Bad timing—no one’s here.”
“Mm.”
The main gates behind Nie Mao opened, and two servants came out. He quickly said, “Come take the reins from Second Master.”
“No need,” Nie Yinbing said, holding the reins of the restless chestnut horse. “This beast has a fiery temper.”
“Ah, alright.”
Nie Mao then directed the two servants, “Hurry and carry Fifth Young Master Song inside. Be careful not to bump him.”
“Yes, sir.”
One servant entered the car from the opposite side to support Song Yuzhang's shoulders, while the other stood outside, holding his legs. The two worked together carefully to move him out of the car.
“Second Master, what exactly happened on the road?” Nie Mao asked conversationally.
“Ran into some bandits.”
Nie Yinbing curled the reins around his hand and spoke calmly as he soothed the horse. “This beast belonged to their leader. I killed its master, and it's been agitated the whole way, trying to throw me off.”
“Good heavens! Second Master, then you'd better dismount. I’ll call someone to take the horse.”
“No need.”
Nie Yinbing controlled the horse and let his gaze sweep casually over the two carrying Song Yuzhang. Sitting high on the horse, the people behind blocked his view of the person being carried, so he asked, “Who is that?”
“Fifth Young Master of the Song family—Old Master Song Zhenqiao's son. Didn’t you get the telegram the other day? Old Master passed away. You came back late and missed the funeral.”
Nie Yinbing said, “Fifth Young Master? I thought the Song family had four sons.”
“This Fifth Young Master came back from abroad. He doesn’t share the same mother as the other four.”
Nie Yinbing gave a disinterested ‘Mm’ and glanced around. Then he asked, “Is Eldest Brother at the company or the chamber of commerce?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What about Bonian?”
“Young Master went horseback riding today.”
“Horseback riding?”
Nie Yinbing gave a faint smile. “Bonian knows how to ride now?”
“Yes,” Nie Mao said with a smile. “The eldest master taught him. And lately, Fifth Young Master of the Song family often accompanied him, so now the boy’s really hooked.”
Nie Yinbing looked at the now-closed gate. “That Fifth Young Master being carried in—he’s the one who’s been keeping him company?” He seemed a bit more interested. “What happened to him?”
“No idea. I ran into him on the road—he looked completely lost. He passed out in the car.”
“Did you call a doctor?”
“Yes, the foreign doctor is on his way.”
“Good.”
Nie Yinbing’s lips moved slightly as though struggling to say something. He wasn’t good with words, even when speaking to the loyal housekeeper who’d watched him grow up. After hesitating like a gourd with a sealed mouth, he finally said, “I’ll go find Bonian.”
“Alright, Young Master is at the small riding field in the east of the city. Are you taking a car, or will you ride the horse? If you ride, please be careful.”
“I’ll ride. Might as well tame it on the way.”
With that, Nie Yinbing ended the conversation and rode off, relieved.
Nie Mao brought in the pastries, set them down, and immediately went to arrange care for Song Yuzhang in the guest room.
The Nie household servants were all well-trained. Under Nie Mao’s instructions, they elevated Song Yuzhang’s pillow so he wouldn't lie completely flat. Then he ordered water and porridge to be prepared. He gently touched Song Yuzhang’s forehead and, finding it scorching hot, told a servant to fetch a cold towel for his forehead.
“Go to the Song family and let them know Fifth Young Master is here, so they won’t worry. Best if one of the other young masters can come over.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nie Mao remained in the room, overseeing everything, then suddenly clapped his hands in realization. He was being so muddleheaded—he should’ve asked Second Master to tell Young Master that Fifth Young Master was here. The boy liked Fifth Young Master so much. But then again, maybe it was for the best—Fifth Young Master was ill. If the boy saw him like this, he’d surely be heartbroken. With that thought, Nie Mao anxiously asked, “Has the foreign doctor arrived?”
“He’s on his way.”
About half an hour later, the foreign doctor finally arrived. After checking Song Yuzhang’s eyes and taking his temperature, he made a firm diagnosis and insisted on giving him an injection.
Nie Mao hesitated. “Is an injection the only option? Can’t we just give him some medicine?”
The foreign doctor, speaking fairly fluent Chinese, said, “Fever’s too high. No injection, he become idiot.”
Nie Mao was caught in a dilemma and asked the servants, “Has anyone from the Song family arrived?”
One servant asked around and came back with the answer: “No one.”
What Nie Mao didn’t know was that the Song family had already split in two overnight. The only one still on Song Yuzhang’s side, Song Mingzhao, was still at the bank waiting eagerly to share in the joy once Song Yuzhang returned from seeing the vault.
Nie Mao had always been both in awe and suspicious of foreign doctors. He knew they could save lives—but they could also take them just as quickly. Normally, he avoided them altogether. But since the household masters trusted them, and since Song Yuzhang was one of those young masters, he had called for one.
After weighing the pros and cons, Nie Mao resolutely waved his sleeve, like a man preparing to sacrifice an arm to save his body. “Fine. Do it!”
The foreign doctor stepped forward and lifted Song Yuzhang’s blanket. Nie Mao quickly pressed it back down. “What are you doing?”
The foreign doctor looked confused. “Injection.”
Nie Mao: “Why are you lifting the blanket to give an injection?”
The foreign doctor, having often faced suspicion in his practice, patiently explained, “It’s a buttocks injection.”
“Buttocks?” Nie Mao raised his voice. “If you’re giving an injection, just do it! How can you inject the Fifth Young Master's buttocks!”
The nearby servants couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
Once one laughed, the rest followed. The servants attending to Song Yuzhang all started snickering quietly.
In the midst of the laughter, a soft cough came from the doorway.
Nie Mao was just about to scold them when he saw Nie Xueping appear at the entrance and quickly said, “Eldest Master, you’re back.” He then complained like a child, “Come take a look quickly—Fifth Young Master Song has a fever. The foreign doctor says he needs an injection, but insists it has to be in the buttocks!”
Nie Xueping had heard Nie Mao’s protest at the door. He raised a hand, and the servants immediately understood, setting aside their tasks and stepping out. Nie Mao straightened up, ready for instructions.
Nie Xueping walked into the room and said to the doctor, “Where’s the medicine?”
The foreign doctor brought over his medical kit.
Nie Xueping took a quick look, then said to Nie Mao, “Take Dr. William to rest and have some tea.”
Nie Mao quickly replied, “Yes, sir.” He turned to the doctor, “Dr. William, please come with me.”
The foreign doctor, however, refused to leave, dutifully repeating, “No injection, he becomes an idiot.”
Nie Mao looked at Nie Xueping again. Nie Xueping was examining the medication in the box. After glancing at the label, he spoke to the foreign doctor in English: “This medicine requires intramuscular injection, correct?”
Hearing his native language, the doctor was delighted. “Yes, yes. Are you in the medical profession too?”
“I know the basics. I can give an intramuscular shot. Please, have some tea.”
“Alright, but please be careful. Watch for signs of an allergic reaction. If anything happens, notify me immediately.”
“No problem.”
After their exchange, Nie Xueping gave Nie Mao a look, and he promptly led the foreign doctor out.
Only Nie Xueping and the unconscious Song Yuzhang remained in the guest room. Wasting no time, Nie Xueping went over and lifted the blanket. Seeing that Song Yuzhang was still fully dressed, he let out a quiet sigh.
He unbuckled the belt and buttons, gently turned Song Yuzhang over, pulled down his trousers a little, and lifted his shirt. He retrieved the syringe and medicine bottle, drew the liquid, expelled the air from the syringe, and gently pulled down the edge of Song Yuzhang’s underwear, revealing a small patch of skin. After sterilizing the area with alcohol, he swiftly administered the injection.
As soon as the medicine entered his body, Song Yuzhang began to tremble.
Nie Xueping glanced at him—half his face buried in the pillow, brows tightly furrowed, lashes and eyelids twitching, but he didn’t wake. Nie Xueping gently pressed his lower back. “Almost done.”
But Song Yuzhang continued trembling, even the muscles in his buttocks began to tense.
Nie Xueping had to gently rub his lower back, soothing him in the same tone he used to comfort Nie Bonian, “Don’t be afraid. The medicine will help. Just relax…”
When the injection was finally complete, a bruise had already formed on Song Yuzhang’s rear. A bead of blood emerged at the puncture site. Nie Xueping used a cotton ball to press on it. His eyes moved to Song Yuzhang’s face, noticing it was drenched in sweat. He took the towel a servant had left nearby and gently wiped it.
Song Yuzhang seemed slightly delirious from the fever. His parched lips moved faintly, murmuring something unintelligible. Based on experience, Nie Xueping figured he was probably calling out for his parents.
Nie Xueping removed the cotton ball, washed his hands in the guest room’s bathroom, then came back, helped Song Yuzhang with his clothes, and covered him with the blanket again. He called to the servant outside, “Take good care of Young Master Song.”
That sleep of Song Yuzhang’s was especially deep. He often dreamed—dangerous dreams, fleeing or scheming against others, always exhausting. But this time, the dream was unusually peaceful: just breeze and waves, calm and quiet. When he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar face, he couldn’t quite tell if he was still dreaming or already awake.
The servant was changing the towel and said, “Fifth Young Master, you’re awake?”
Song Yuzhang didn’t respond. His entire body ached, his head was splitting, his throat was parched—there wasn’t a single comfortable part of him. His thoughts floated in limbo. It wasn’t that he couldn’t think—he didn’t want to. He was too exhausted. After scheming for so long, he was utterly drained. He closed his eyes again and slipped back into unconsciousness.
The foreign doctor didn’t get to administer the shot himself but was kept in the house. When Nie Xueping returned to the main hall and heard that Nie Yinbing had come back, he asked, “Where is he?”
“Second Master went to the riding grounds to find the young master.”
Nie Xueping nodded. “Send someone to bring both of them back.”
Nie Mao answered and was about to leave when Nie Xueping called him back. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he sat down and took the tea offered by a servant. “What happened?”
Nie Mao didn’t need to be asked twice and immediately spilled everything: “The young master said he wanted pastries from Jishunzhai when he came home, so I went early this morning to get them. I made sure the chef made them just right and was bringing them back when I ran into Fifth Young Master. He was alone, no one with him, no car. He looked unwell, so I asked him to get in. I was afraid the young master might be back soon, so I rushed home. Who would’ve thought he’d pass out in the car? I took it upon myself to carry him in first.”
“Have you informed the Song family?”
“Yes, but they don’t have any real young masters left there. Most of the servants are gone. They said the family split last night—Eldest Young Master Song, Second, and Third sons all moved out overnight. No one knows where the fourth went.”
After sipping his tea, Nie Xueping nodded. Nie Mao quickly left and ordered, “Go to the riding grounds. Bring Second Master and the young master home.” The servant acknowledged and was about to leave, but Nie Mao stopped him again. “Ah, I almost forgot—make sure to tell the young master that Fifth Young Master Song is staying at our house. He’ll come back much quicker that way.”
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