Song Yuzhang: Chapter 61 - Ordinary
Chapter 61: Ordinary
The two brothers stuck together like conjoined twins all afternoon and evening, completely satisfying Song Mingzhao’s private longing. This was exactly the kind of time he had dreamed of spending with Song Yuzhang after getting what he wanted—no scheming elder brother, no manipulative games, just the two of them, heart to heart, simple and happy.
Song Yuzhang had taken fever medicine in the afternoon and still had a mild fever in the evening. Song Mingzhao was worried and chose to sleep with him to take care of him. It was early autumn, and two grown men sleeping under one blanket was definitely a bit too warm. But Song Mingzhao really couldn’t rest easy about Song Yuzhang. He felt something was off about him, though he couldn’t say exactly what.
Song Mingzhao gently bit Song Yuzhang on the shoulder.
Song Yuzhang’s arm, draped behind him, gave a crisp smack to his back.
“Xiao Yu…”
Leaning on his shoulder, Song Yuzhang gave a slight smile. He still had a mild fever, so his face was a bit flushed. “What, you're allowed to bite me, but I can't smack you? Or did I hit too hard?”
Song Mingzhao blushed too. “It didn’t really hurt…”
His voice trailed off. Under Song Yuzhang’s tender gaze, he suddenly hugged him tightly, as if pressured. Sensing that all his muscles were tense with nervousness, Song Yuzhang closed his eyes and leaned against his shoulder.
“Fourth Brother.”
“Hm?”
“Do you love me?”
Song Mingzhao, having received a Western education, understood that there were many kinds of love in this world—familial, friendly, romantic. All of them could be called love. Though different, they had something in common.
Song Yuzhang had descended into his life like fate, becoming the embodiment of all the kinds of love he held most dear. He was the younger brother he loved most.
“I love you,” Song Mingzhao hugged him even tighter and said with certainty, “Xiao Yu, I love you.”
Song Yuzhang gently kissed his ear and held him just as tightly, as if he were a treasure.
By dawn, Song Yuzhang’s fever had subsided. He got out of bed to bathe, wash up, and change into fresh clothes, regaining his vigor.
Song Mingzhao was still fast asleep.
Every time the two of them slept together, Song Mingzhao always slept deeply in the morning.
He had trouble falling asleep when lying next to Song Yuzhang and only managed to drift off long after Song Yuzhang was already asleep, so by the time morning came, he was like Sleeping Beauty, completely out.
Song Yuzhang went to his desk and retrieved a small box, taking only the checks and the envelope Meng Tingjing had given him. Then he walked over to the bed and looked down at Song Mingzhao.
Song Mingzhao was sound asleep, unaware of anything.
After one last look, Song Yuzhang turned and left without hesitation.
The family driver took him to the bank. Upon entering, Song Yuzhang was greeted with a flurry of respectful salutations.
“Good morning, Mr. Song.”
“Good morning, President Song.”
Song Yuzhang immediately realized this was orchestrated by Liu Chuanzong.
To pin the blame on him, they had to make sure everyone knew that the scapegoat’s name was Song Yuzhang.
Though fury rose in his chest, Song Yuzhang kept a springlike smile on his face, a smile that swept through the autumn day and toppled a crowd of hearts.
He went quickly upstairs. As he walked past waves of “Good morning, President Song,” he seethed with rage inside and arrived at the office door. The moment he pushed it open, a loud bang went off, and his face and head were showered with silver and gold streamers.
Shen Chengduo laughed heartily and exclaimed, “Brother Song, you really hid your talents well!”
Upon hearing that Song Yuzhang had inherited the family bank, Shen Chengduo’s final doubts vanished, and he came immediately with the contract in hand, ready to strike while the iron was hot.
When Song Zhenqiao had just died, others were busy with mourning rituals, and it wouldn’t have been appropriate to bring up business. But now he could finally come to the bank and talk business.
Seeing Shen Chengduo hit a different nerve for Song Yuzhang.
He had believed he could gain something through Shen Chengduo, never expecting it to end like this.
Of course, Shen Chengduo wasn’t at fault. Song Yuzhang realized it was his own unbalanced mindset making him lash out at everyone, which wasn’t healthy.
Smiling, he said, “Brother Shen, there’s no rush. I’ve only just taken over the bank, and there are many matters to sort out. I’m overwhelmed. Please give me a little more time.”
As soon as Shen Chengduo heard his tone, he sensed something had changed.
In business, even a signed contract doesn’t guarantee anything, let alone a verbal agreement.
When they made their agreement, Song Yuzhang had only been one of the heirs to the Song family. Now the situation around him had changed. Wasn’t it natural that plans would change, too?
Shen Chengduo, a seasoned and shrewd businessman, assumed that Song Yuzhang wanted to back out—either dissatisfied with the terms or having found a better partner. Worst-case scenario, the Nie family didn’t want him involved at all.
His thoughts spun rapidly, but he maintained only a light smile. “Alright, then. We’ll talk in a few days.”
Once Shen Chengduo was gone, Song Yuzhang rushed to find Liu Chuanzong.
Liu Chuanzong had left word that he was at Citibank. Song Yuzhang let out a breath of relief and took the key to the vault to inspect it—only to find that just one-fifth of the legal tender remained.
He wasn’t worried that Liu Chuanzong had stolen the money and fled. If he had planned to do that, he would’ve done it long ago.
Song Yuzhang locked up the vault again and returned the key to its place.
“President Song, take care.”
The bank staff treated him with great deference—the kind of reverence from the powerless toward the powerful. It was pious, respectful.
Song Yuzhang walked a few steps and arrived at the second floor of the bank, where he could overlook the entire main hall.
From where he stood, he could see everything clearly.
There were many people in the bank, bustling about. Everything seemed orderly and normal.
Who would have thought that this was a ship already riddled with rot?
Tottering on the edge, a great collapse was near.
Song Yuzhang gripped the railing with both hands, his gaze deep as he looked down at the crowd below.
Deposits and withdrawals had separate lines, and both were packed full.
The Song family was enormously wealthy in Haizhou, and their bank also enjoyed a solid reputation, so business was brisk, with a steady stream of customers.
Song Yuzhang had reviewed the bank’s accounts, and from the looks of it, the ‘water’ in those books was probably deeper than the lake at the Song residence.
Whether the numbers were real or not, judging by the accounts, the bulk of the deposits came from small account holders.
You could understand that just by looking at Shen Chengduo.
The wealthy had their own ways of generating wealth—why would they leave their money sitting in a bank earning scraps of interest?
If it hadn’t been for him seizing on Shen Chengduo’s weakness, even if Shen Chengduo were given ten thousand chances to choose, he would never have opted to invest in a bank.
What a pity... the effort collapsed just before success.
Liu Chuanzong hadn’t explained exactly how Song Zhenqiao had created such a massive shortfall.
It was baffling to Song Yuzhang—how could someone manage to run a bank into deficit?
While he was still deep in thought, a disturbance broke out downstairs in the main hall.
There seemed to be someone causing trouble in the withdrawal line.
The bank’s many guards immediately dragged the troublemaker outside.
Song Yuzhang’s gaze flicked over, and he thought to himself that after today, by tomorrow... the whole place might erupt.
He felt a heavy discomfort in his heart and headed downstairs. As he descended, people greeted him one after another. Hearing the repeated calls of “President Song,” those passing by couldn’t help but look his way, and they were all unknowingly charmed by his presence.
Song Yuzhang found those stunned, admiring gazes oddly difficult to endure.
He’d long been used to such attention.
Yet now, for some reason, it suddenly felt unbearable.
He walked out of the bank.
“...Damn that bastard Qian Laosan! I curse your whole family, may you die rotting from the inside out...”
“Hey now, if Qian Laosan cheated you, go find him! Why cause a scene in front of our bank?”
“I—where the hell am I supposed to find Qian Laosan, that dog! Juan’er was such a sweet, delicate girl, only twelve, and I sold her to him for just two hundred yuan—and he still tricked me! May his guts rot and his family never find peace in the afterlife...”
The woman cried like the sky was falling. No matter what was said, she refused to move, sitting right there on the ground. A bank guard drew his baton to beat her, but Song Yuzhang stopped him.
“Stop.”
The guards, recognizing his commanding presence, immediately realized this was the new bank president—Young Master Song, the fifth son—and said quickly, “President, this woman’s making a scene. She sold her daughter and got a two-hundred-yuan note. It’s stamped with our bank’s name, but the seal is fake. It’s a forged note. Stuff like this happens every day. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“You say the seal is fake, and that makes it fake?!”
Seeing someone intervene, the woman quickly stood up and changed her tune: “It’s real! The note is real, and the stamp is too!”
“Let me see it,” Song Yuzhang said.
The woman hurriedly pulled the note from her chest and handed it over.
The moment he looked at it, Song Yuzhang knew it was indeed fake.
The woman had already dropped to her knees, bowing hard. “Please, sir, have mercy. We have nothing to eat at home. I’m truly out of options. Please, sir, take a close look—please...”
Song Yuzhang’s gaze lingered on the note, then briefly on the woman. He handed it to the guard beside him. “Go exchange it for her.”
The guard was caught off guard, but only for a moment. He immediately responded, “Yes, sir.”
The woman on the ground was slower to react than the guard. She remained frozen in her bowing posture, stunned.
Song Yuzhang bent on one knee. “Get up. Go inside and get the money.”
The woman lifted her tear-streaked face. “Thank you, sir, thank you...”
She followed the guard inside, while Song Yuzhang remained standing at the bank entrance.
The Song Bank was located in one of Haizhou’s most bustling areas. Nearby were countless department stores, watch shops, gold shops, dance halls, and casinos. Naturally, this also meant there were plenty of ragged people loitering nearby. Rich areas attracted more beggars, too.
Song Yuzhang recalled the days when he and Chun Xing had been on the run.
In the most desperate moment, Chun Xing had once taken his hand and said, “Young Master, if we really have nothing to eat... sell me.”
She had meant it sincerely. There was no sorrow in her eyes over being a servant, only a calm, practical evaluation of her worth. She had been sold by her family before and knew how it worked.
Selling sons and daughters—just to get a bite of food.
Song Yuzhang turned and went back into the bank.
The woman had already exchanged her money and, upon seeing him, grabbed her collar in fear and ran.
He knew she was afraid he’d change his mind.
He didn’t really care. The bank was about to collapse anyway—if he could give someone a ‘bite to eat,’ he would.
Song Yuzhang returned to the second floor.
This was the first time he didn’t go back to the office, instead choosing to observe the ‘human landscape’ below.
But there wasn’t much to see—just ordinary things. People depositing, withdrawing, the occasional dispute.
Too ordinary.
These people were so ordinary they’d never even register on Song Yuzhang’s radar.
So painfully ordinary.
Liu Chuanzong returned, carrying a small leather case. When he came upstairs and saw Song Yuzhang looking down over the railing, he said, “Fifth Young Master Song, the money’s been exchanged.”
Song Yuzhang’s eyes swept coolly over the case in his hand.
“How much?”
“The legal tender fell again today. We only got twenty thousand pounds.”
Twenty thousand pounds.
Three hundred million U.S. dollars.
The gap between the two might as well be a bottomless chasm.
Song Yuzhang placed his palm on the railing.
Its construction was similar to the railing on a ship.
That day on the stormy sea, he’d gripped Chen Hanmin with one hand and the railing with the other—so hard it nearly dislocated both arms.
Though he ultimately failed to save Chen Hanmin and all his effort was in vain, he didn’t regret doing it.
For no other reason than that he, Song Yuzhang, had wanted to do it.
“Before the bank closes today,” Song Yuzhang said calmly, “go exchange the pounds back into legal tender.”
Liu Chuanzong was silent for a moment, his eyes resting on Song Yuzhang.
His profile was sharp and elegant, his face a little pale, but still radiating unmatched grace and fierce intensity.
Liu Chuanzong lowered his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
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