Song Yuzhang: Chapter 59 - Odd Personality
Chapter 59: Odd Personality
“Second Uncle!”
Nie Bonian was so overjoyed to see Nie Yinbing that he nearly let go of the reins. Nie Yinbing pointed at him from afar with his riding whip. “Hold the reins properly.”
Nie Bonian quickly tightened his grip on the reins and gave the mare’s belly a light squeeze with his legs. The gentle little mare slowed to a gradual stop. Nie Yinbing dismounted and handed the reins to the approaching stable hand. “Be careful. This horse is fierce.”
“Got it, sir.”
Nie Yinbing walked over and lifted Nie Bonian down from the saddle. Nie Bonian was quite fond of this rarely-at-home second uncle—scarcity makes things precious, after all.
“Second Uncle, you’re finally back.”
Nie Yinbing saw his nephew’s rosy cheeks and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, looking quite healthy. An ordinary person might have offered a compliment or two, but Nie Yinbing simply asked, “Been sick lately?”
Nie Bonian didn’t find his second uncle’s bluntness odd in the slightest and answered honestly, “Haven’t been sick all week.”
Nie Yinbing gave a short “Oh” and patted the boy’s back. “Good.”
Nie Bonian asked, “Second Uncle, have you gotten into any fights lately?”
Carrying him toward a shady spot, Nie Yinbing replied, “Yes.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“No.”
“That’s great!”
The uncle and nephew sat down under a parasol. Though it was early autumn, the sun was still a bit warm. Nie Yinbing said, “Sit here for a while. I’m going to go train that beast.”
“Mm,” Nie Bonian responded.
He’d originally been riding happily, but ever since Nie Yinbing arrived, not only was he no longer riding, he was now being made to sit in the shade as punishment.
Still, Nie Bonian didn’t hold it against him. He knew his second uncle wasn’t a bad person—just a little strange.
He swung his legs idly and watched Nie Yinbing train the horse in the distance.
The training looked quite dangerous—hooves flying, the horse’s head thrashing—but Nie Bonian wasn’t scared at all. When he saw Nie Yinbing nearly lifted off the ground with the horse’s rearing, he even gave him a gentle round of applause.
Nie Yinbing, fully focused, had completely forgotten about his little nephew. It wasn’t until a stable hand came over to tell him that Nie Xueping had summoned him back that he reluctantly got off the horse, handed over the reins, and started walking off. He’d already gone ten meters before he suddenly remembered something, turned back, and returned to the parasol to pick Nie Bonian up.
“Second Uncle,” Nie Bonian wrapped his arms around his neck and whispered, “Did you forget me just now?”
“Mm,” Nie Yinbing admitted without a hint of guilt.
Nie Bonian sighed inwardly, then leaned forward and kissed his second uncle’s cheek, deciding that someone this forgetful at such a young age clearly needed some extra affection.
The servant who had come to fetch them, following the housekeeper’s orders, told them that Fifth Young Master Song was visiting. Nie Bonian was so delighted he nearly jumped up—but since he was being carried, he could only kick his legs a bit in excitement.
On the way home, Nie Bonian began showing off to his uncle, whom he hadn’t seen in half a year, about his new friend,
“Brother Yuzhang is so handsome—more handsome than Uncle Qiyuan!”
Nie Yinbing didn’t react at all. Song Qiyuan was just some pretty-boy type to him—not handsome in any meaningful way.
“And Brother Yuzhang is super nice to me. He takes me riding, picks out food for me…” Nie Bonian left out the part about the chick—his father had told him not to go around talking about that. “Second Uncle, don’t you think Brother Yuzhang is great?”
“He’s great,” Nie Yinbing said—utterly perfunctory.
Nie Bonian pouted briefly, then let it go. “You’ll understand once you meet Brother Yuzhang. No one in the world could dislike him!”
Nie Yinbing couldn’t help correcting such a sweeping statement. “There’s no one in the world who can be liked by everyone.”
Nie Bonian had been taught not to argue with others, so he backed down. “Then… maybe just a very, very small number of people wouldn’t like Brother Yuzhang.”
“Count me among them,” said Nie Yinbing, arms crossed.
Nie Bonian pouted again.
He liked Song Yuzhang and hoped everyone else would too—not because he needed validation, but because he believed good things should be shared. Song Yuzhang’s gentleness and poise, he thought, deserved to be enjoyed by everyone.
He didn’t argue further. He just thought to himself: You’ll change your mind once you meet him.
Nie Yinbing wasn’t deliberately contradicting his nephew. He was just being honest.
There were far too many people trying to curry favor with the Nie family. A half-brother returning from overseas who cozied up to a child like Nie Bonian—how pure could his intentions really be?
He couldn’t be blamed for his suspicion. The Second Young Master Song was a prime example.
Nie Qingyun still insisted the engagement was just for fun.
Nie Yinbing asked, “Where’s Nie Qingyun?”
“Auntie went out boating.”
“Boating? With Song Yekang?”
“No, with her classmates.”
“She doesn’t want Song Yekang anymore?”
“No, it’s just that Second Uncle Song has been busy lately and doesn’t have time to play with her.”
“What’s he busy with?” Nie Yinbing asked bluntly.
Nie Bonian held it in, but ultimately couldn’t help reminding him, “Grandpa Song’s funeral was yesterday.”
Nie Yinbing remembered and nodded in approval. “Then he probably is busy.”
Despite being clever and articulate, Nie Bonian often found himself speechless when talking with his second uncle. He truly wondered what kind of girl would ever be able to tolerate this man’s mouth.
After a brief silence, Nie Bonian took the initiative to steer the conversation toward a topic his uncle might actually talk about. “Second Uncle, who did you fight with?”
“Bandits.”
Nie Bonian had some idea of what bandits were like, so he was a little surprised. “Bandits, Second Uncle? Bandits are really vicious.”
Nie Yinbing thought for a moment and gave the bandits a cold, four-word assessment: “A bunch of useless scum.” To reassure his little nephew, he patted his head and said in a comforting tone, “I already slaughtered them all.” When he felt his nephew tremble slightly, he added, “No need to be afraid anymore.”
The rest of the journey, Nie Bonian didn’t say a word and focused instead on fiddling with the cufflinks on his sleeves.
Sigh, trying to hold a conversation with Second Uncle truly wasn’t a matter of unwillingness—it was simply impossible.
Nie Yinbing knew he rarely found someone who could match him in conversation, and Nie Bonian was only five years old—not exactly a great talker. So he silently turned his attention to the passing scenery outside the window.
After half a year away, Haizhou had changed again. The streets were even more ostentatious, but if one looked closely, there were more beggars in rags along the roadside.
The world was growing increasingly unstable.
…Was he still alive?
The thought flashed across Nie Yinbing’s mind and refused to leave.
In the past six months, he had turned Jiangzhou and the surrounding regions upside down, searching as if digging three feet into the earth.
But still—nothing. It was as if the man had vanished from the face of the earth.
In the dead of night, Nie Yinbing had even wondered if Zhao Jianfang might already be dead.
Even if he was, there should at least be a body. Or a clue. Something.
But no—there was nothing.
Not even a strand of hair.
Where did he go? Where on earth could he have gone?
“Where’s Brother Yuzhang? I want to see Brother Yuzhang!”
Nie Bonian said eagerly to Nie Mao as soon as he got out of the car.
Nie Mao smiled and said, “Young Master, you should rest first. Fifth Young Master is sick—he’s sleeping right now.”
“Sick?”
Nie Bonian was lifted into Nie Yinbing’s arms again, worry spreading across his face. “How did Brother Yuzhang get sick?”
“He has a fever. Got an injection. Don’t worry, Young Master—it’s nothing serious. You can go see him after he wakes up.”
Nie Bonian nodded obediently. “Then I won’t disturb him while he’s resting.” He turned to Nie Yinbing. “Second Uncle, let’s go see Dad.”
Nie Yinbing gave a soft “Mm” and strode into the house with long steps, still holding Nie Bonian.
The Nie residence hadn’t changed much in the past half year—still peaceful and comfortable. Though Nie Yinbing was rarely home, even he had to admit it was a fine place.
As they approached the main hall, Nie Bonian asked to be let down. Nie Yinbing obliged, then took a few quick steps and left the boy far behind as he entered the hall first.
“Eldest Brother.”
Nie Yinbing kept his hands by his sides and gave a small bow—a very proper salute.
“You’re back.”
“Yes.”
“Daddy,” Nie Bonian finally caught up, his little legs trotting, and bowed just as properly. “I’m back too.”
Nie Xueping looked at the big and small ones standing side by side and let a rare warmth show in his eyes. “Good, you’re both back.”
Nie Bonian had worked up a sweat from riding earlier, and Nie Xueping was worried he’d catch a cold once it dried. He instructed the servants to take him for a bath, leaving Nie Yinbing behind for a private conversation.
“How have things been these six months?”
“Very well.”
“Nie Mao said you ran into some bandits on the way back?”
“Yes. A few border soldiers turned to banditry, preying on travelers.”
Nie Xueping ran his fingers along the lid of his teacup. “You killed them?”
“Killed them,” Nie Yinbing paused, then added, “All of them.”
The lid scraped softly against the rim of the teacup. Nie Xueping said nothing at first, his expression calm. In the end, he merely said, “You must be tired. Go wash up and rest.”
“Mm.”
Nie Yinbing stood, then paused and turned back. “Eldest Brother, I want to ask the Haizhou informants to help me find someone.”
Though Nie Xueping wasn’t in Jiangzhou, he’d heard some of the news from afar. He took a sip of tea and said, “Do as you see fit.”
Nie Yinbing then asked, “Are there any good portrait artists in Haizhou?”
He hadn’t expected Zhao Jianfang to disappear like that, so he had no photograph to work with. As for drawing, he lacked the skill himself, so he had to describe the man to artists to have them sketch a likeness. But no matter what they drew, Nie Yinbing always felt the result looked nothing like him.
“No, the eyes lack spirit.”
“The lips are too thick—make them a bit thinner. The lower lip should protrude slightly.”
“The cheeks are too wide.”
“The tail of the eyebrows isn’t supposed to be that thin. They should look bolder.”
The portrait artists, growing increasingly nervous, found themselves drawing what felt more and more like a handsome ideal rather than a wanted criminal. No matter how they tried, their client remained dissatisfied, claiming they couldn’t capture the man’s charm.
“Haizhou artists…” Nie Xueping considered for a moment. “Mr. Dongyue’s landscape paintings are second to none.”
“I don’t need landscapes. I need a portrait.”
“A portrait?”
Nie Xueping immediately understood his intent.
Though he didn’t quite approve of Nie Yinbing going to such lengths to catch a petty conman, he knew his brother had his own internal logic, difficult to sway. And really, Nie Yinbing hadn’t crossed any serious lines, so he decided to turn a blind eye.
“Mr. Tian, the one who teaches Bonian to paint, isn’t bad. He’s coming to teach tomorrow. I’ll have him stay a bit longer afterward.”
“Thank you, Eldest Brother.”
Nie Yinbing turned to go, but Nie Xueping called him back. “But to take a man’s life over a matter of a thousand or so yuan is excessive.”
Nie Yinbing lowered his head and said softly, “I don’t want his life.”
“Oh?”
“I want him.”
Nie Xueping set down his teacup and replied mildly, “If you want him, then don’t go around saying things like ‘dead or alive.’”
Nie Yinbing realized the problem. “That was ambiguous?”
Nie Xueping gave a small nod.
After thinking for a moment, Nie Yinbing explained clearly, “What I meant was—whether he’s alive or dead, I want him either way.”
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