Song Yuzhang: Chapter 108 - Alive
Chapter 108: Alive
Song Yuzhang was placed in Nie Xueping’s room. Nie Yinbing immediately summoned three doctors—two Western physicians and one traditional Chinese doctor. His instructions were clear: even if Song Yuzhang lost a single strand of hair, the three of them wouldn’t get off easy.
The doctors were experienced and skilled, often called upon by Haizhou’s high-ranking officials and wealthy families. They’d faced similar threats before and were unfazed, simply tending seriously to Song Yuzhang’s injuries.
The wound on his shoulder had been properly bandaged and didn’t need redressing, but the soles of his feet were covered in small cuts. One of the Western doctors treated them and said, “This will sting a little—bear with it.”
But Song Yuzhang didn’t feel any pain. His body was still alternately hot and cold, and his expression remained dazed. The doctor noticed and quickly put him on an IV, fearing that the fever might worsen and cause his wounds to become infected.
Song Yuzhang let them move him as they pleased. Tears leaked unconsciously from the corners of his eyes, just like the wounds on his body—completely numb.
After a fierce argument with the Song brothers at the police station, Nie Qingyun returned. When she heard that Nie Yinbing was back, she rushed into the inner hall and threw herself at him as soon as she saw him.
“Second Brother—”
After sobbing several times, she raised her tear-streaked face. “The police won’t let me in to see Song Mingzhao. Did you find Song Yuzhang?”
“I did.”
“Where is he? Did he say anything? What exactly happened?” Nie Qingyun grew agitated, clutching Nie Yinbing’s sleeve and looking at him desperately.
Nie Yinbing hesitated to speak. Though others often thought he spoke without thinking, in truth, he always chose his words carefully—only they never seemed to come out quite right.
“He’s injured. He needs rest.”
Nie Qingyun nearly blacked out from that response. She knew this was just like him and snapped, “Where is he? I’ll ask him myself!”
“He needs rest,” Nie Yinbing repeated. “Don’t disturb him.”
Nie Qingyun jerked her arm free and shouted, “Nie Mao! Nie Mao!”
Nie Mao ran in, and Nie Qingyun asked, “Where’s Song Yuzhang?”
Nie Mao glanced at Nie Yinbing, who calmly answered, “He’s in Eldest Brother’s room. You can’t go in.”
Nie Qingyun stared in disbelief. “What did you say? He’s in Eldest Brother’s room? Why? Why would he be in that room?! What gives him the right?!”
Nie Yinbing stood with his hands behind his back, calmly watching her hysteria. “Because Eldest Brother loved him.”
Nie Qingyun’s eyes widened.
“Eldest Brother loved him very much. If he were a girl, you’d be calling him ‘sister-in-law.’”
“Bullshit——”
Nie Qingyun screamed uncontrollably. “Absurd! Nonsense! My sister-in-law is Li Yingmei—she died years ago! How could Eldest Brother have anything with him?!” She was so agitated she nearly passed out. Gripping her waist, she tried to steady her breath and spoke in what she thought was a rational, calm tone: “Song Yuzhang and Meng Tingjing are the ones who are together. They’re the couple—I know it, and Eldest Brother knew it too. That day was Uncle Meng’s death anniversary—yes, Second Brother, you were out of town then.” She looked at Nie Yinbing, her brow furrowed tight, trying to hold back tears. “Second Brother, this isn’t possible. It really isn’t possible…”
Nie Yinbing said, “Go rest. It’s late.”
Nie Qingyun started walking inward, but her arm was grabbed.
“Let go, Second Brother—I want to ask him myself. Even if Eldest Brother loved him, why did he die in the Song residence? He’s always been cautious when going out. I have to ask—I need to know, Second Brother, please let me ask…”
Nie Qingyun clung to Nie Yinbing’s arm, crying miserably. He didn’t offer any comfort, only ran his hand along her trembling back and said to Nie Mao, “Take Third Miss to rest. Notify all the relatives—start the mourning arrangements.”
***
Nie Xueping’s death sent shockwaves through Haizhou.
In just six short months, the Chen family had gone bankrupt and fled, and each of the three major families—Song, Meng, and Nie—had suffered losses, shaking Haizhou’s elite to the core. What’s more, Nie Xueping’s death was tied to the Song family, making the whole affair even more murky and confusing.
For a time, all of Haizhou was buzzing about the shooting.
***
At the center of the storm, Song Yuzhang remained secluded in the Nie residence, recuperating.
More accurately, he was being kept under soft house arrest.
When his fever subsided a bit, he asked to see Nie Xueping. The servants went to inform Nie Yinbing, who came and felt Song Yuzhang’s forehead. “Still warm.”
“It’s fine,” Song Yuzhang said. “I’m much better now. I want to see him.”
Nie Yinbing lowered his hand and looked to the Western doctor nearby.
The doctor replied honestly: Song Yuzhang’s injuries weren’t critical, but he would need time to recover. He wasn’t in any danger of dying.
Nie Yinbing said, “They’re preparing his body. Wait a bit—it’ll look better.”
Song Yuzhang sat quietly, closed his eyes, then opened them again slowly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.”
Nie Yinbing called for servants to bring some of Nie Xueping’s old clothes. Song Yuzhang changed into them. The clothes were a bit big, and the pants too long. He bent down to roll up the cuffs, but Nie Yinbing stopped him. “Don’t bend down.”
Nie Yinbing knelt to roll up the cuffs for him, then suddenly picked him up.
Song Yuzhang instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck. “I can walk on my own.”
Nie Yinbing didn’t respond. Carrying him out, he simply said, “Better to be careful.”
Nie Xueping’s body was still in the inner hall. When Nie Yinbing carried Song Yuzhang in, the body had already been cleaned and dressed. The mortician was contouring his face. Song Yuzhang took one look—then turned away.
“Nie Xueping is dead.” He knew this in his heart, understood it clearly. Yet seeing Nie Xueping’s body still sent a sharp, almost surreal wave of pain through him.
Nie Yinbing placed him in a chair beside the body and left.
Song Yuzhang sat and looked at Nie Xueping again.
The bloody clothes had been removed, and he now wore a dark Zhongshan suit. After watching him for a while, a tear suddenly rolled down Song Yuzhang’s cheek.
The hall was utterly quiet. Song Yuzhang sat there in silence, watching as Nie Xueping returned to his usual appearance—so much so that he really looked as though he were just sleeping.
Song Yuzhang stared at his short, thick eyelashes and, for a brief moment, had the illusion that Nie Xueping might open his eyes at any second and give him a gentle smile.
But that was impossible.
"The dead cannot come back to life" — Song Yuzhang had understood this truth since the age of fourteen.
He could only accept it.
There was nothing else but acceptance.
Song Yuzhang, draped in one of Nie Xueping’s old coats, asked the mortician beside him, “Can I touch him?”
“You can,” the mortician replied straightforwardly. “Just be careful not to press too hard.”
Song Yuzhang reached out and lightly touched Nie Xueping’s cheek with his fingertips.
Nie Xueping’s cheek was icy — neither warm nor soft. Song Yuzhang withdrew his hand and touched his own face; his own cheek was burning hot and damp.
He sat in silence for a while, until he heard some commotion outside — it sounded like someone was arguing. He looked at Nie Xueping and murmured, “I’ll go see what’s happening outside.”
“I’m not allowed in?”
Nie Qingyun’s face was pale with fury. “He’s my own eldest brother — I’m not allowed in to see him? What kind of logic is that?”
Nie Mao was blocking her. “Third Miss, please don’t get upset.”
Nie Qingyun sneered and nodded. “I see. He’s in there, isn’t he? Fine. That makes me more determined to go in. Song Mingzhao hides at the police station, and he hides in the Nie residence — hides in my brother’s mourning hall—”
“Third Miss, Second Master said…”
“Sister Qingyun.”
Song Yuzhang stepped out from the inner hall.
The moment Nie Qingyun saw him, she lunged forward in anger, only to be held back firmly by Nie Mao and several house servants. “Don’t act on impulse, Third Miss!”
“Song Yuzhang, I want a clear answer — how did my brother die?!”
“He went to the Song residence perfectly fine — why would Song Mingzhao kill him…”
Nie Qingyun had been in a state of distress all day and night. She no longer had the strength to be furious. Her body slackened against the arms holding her back, tears spilling down as she sank to the floor. “Will any of you give me an answer…”
The servants hurried to support her. Song Yuzhang walked over, bent down, and reached out to help her up. But Nie Qingyun seized his arm and yanked him down to the floor. The servants rushed to help them both, but she ignored the hands reaching toward her and stared directly at Song Yuzhang, locking eyes with him. “You tell me, Yuzhang — tell your sister Qingyun. How did my brother die?”
Song Yuzhang knelt before her and said softly, “He shielded me. Took a bullet for me.”
Nie Qingyun was stunned. Tears kept pouring down her cheeks. She choked out, “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Nie Qingyun turned her head, took a deep breath, then looked back at him, her eyes bloodshot. “At Meng Huanzhang’s funeral that day — in Meng Tingjing’s courtyard — the one being intimate with him, was that you?”
“Yes.”
“Then what about my brother?” Nie Qingyun asked, disbelieving. “What did he mean to you?”
Song Yuzhang lowered his gaze. “He loved me. And I… once loved him too.”
Nie Qingyun was stunned again. She sat numbly on the ground, suddenly recalling a conversation she’d had with Song Yuzhang — they had laughed and talked about misguided affections, and she’d casually made a remark, even getting Song Yuzhang to agree with her. She suddenly shut her eyes. Tears streamed hot down her cheeks. Her palm clenched the dusty ground beneath her. She had no words. Truly, she had no words left.
“Second Master…”
Nie Mao looked up in alarm. Nie Yinbing strode in with long, steady steps. The servants, seeing him, immediately stepped aside. He said, “Why is everyone sitting on the ground?” He bent down, slipped his arms beneath Song Yuzhang’s waist and knees, and lifted him up again. The servants quickly helped Nie Qingyun to her feet as well.
“Qingyun,” Nie Yinbing turned to her. She lifted her face in a daze as he said solemnly, “This is the person our eldest brother died protecting.”
Nie Qingyun swallowed hard and slowly nodded. She finally understood what this strange second brother of hers meant. Her lashes fluttered for a moment before she pushed aside the servants’ hands and staggered to stand before Nie Yinbing, meeting Song Yuzhang’s gaze in his arms.
Song Yuzhang was truly beautiful — even with a pale face, he had a fragile and touching kind of handsomeness.
Nie Qingyun said, “My brother didn’t want you to die. So live well.”
Song Yuzhang looked at her quietly.
Nie Qingyun continued, “For the rest of your life, you must… live for my brother.”
The final word — “live” — left her lips with a kind of bitter resentment, falling cold and sharp into the air. She gave Song Yuzhang one last deep look, then turned and walked away.
Nie Yinbing carried Song Yuzhang back inside. In his arms, Song Yuzhang’s cheeks were still burning, but his heart was perfectly calm.
Nie Yinbing brought him back to Nie Xueping’s room and told the servants to bring some warm water. He rolled up Song Yuzhang’s trouser leg, revealing a scraped and reddened calf.
Nie Yinbing placed the injured leg on his own knee, head lowered as he examined the abrasion. “Be more careful next time. Don’t get hurt again.”
Song Yuzhang said nothing, only lowered his lashes silently.
The servants brought warm water. Nie Yinbing wrung out a towel and gently cleaned the wound on his leg. His touch was soft. After cleaning it, he picked up some medicine nearby. “This will sting.”
As the medicinal powder touched his leg, Song Yuzhang showed no reaction at all. He simply stared fixedly at Nie Yinbing.
After applying the medicine, Nie Yinbing rolled his pant leg back down. Suddenly, Song Yuzhang spoke: “I do carry guilt in my heart.”
Nie Yinbing looked up. There were still tear tracks on Song Yuzhang’s face. “I owe him a life. I can repay him with mine.” Song Yuzhang looked calmly at Nie Yinbing. “But Yinbing… I won’t live for anyone.”
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