Song Yuzhang: Chapter 67 - Broken Boat
Chapter 67: Broken Boat
When Song Yuzhang saw Shen Chengduo escorting Nie Yinbing out from upstairs, he felt a deep shock inside.
Nie Yinbing was back?
Wasn't he supposed to return at the end of the year?
When did this happen?
Just a few days ago, he'd even had a fever and slept for half a day at the Nie residence… The more Song Yuzhang thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. Especially when he saw the two of them return and heard their footsteps coming up the stairs again, he almost wanted to find a spot to jump out of—just like last time. But this was the second floor; if he jumped, he’d at least be crippled if not dead.
Just then, the two beautiful youths came out of the bathroom. In a flash of inspiration, Song Yuzhang grabbed them to use as cover.
With warm, fragrant bodies in his arms, he was as tense as if he were holding two rocks. Only when the footsteps quickly retreated did he finally break out in a cold sweat and push the two beautiful youths aside.
Song Yuzhang took a few drags from a cigarette, heart gradually calming. He turned his head and gave Shen Chengduo a composed smile. “Sorry to make you witness that, Brother Shen.”
Shen Chengduo looked at him with a rather strange expression. “Oh, it’s nothing. Why not keep playing?”
Song Yuzhang smiled again, this time a bit vaguely. “It’s getting late, I should be going.” He stood, but then remembered that Nie Yinbing had just left and sat back down. “Drank too much, my head’s a little dizzy.”
Shen Chengduo had always appreciated the more delicate beauty of men, and for someone like Song Yuzhang—tall, handsome, and imposing—he felt no attraction. If not distaste, then at most indifference; he’d never had that kind of interest in him.
But today, Song Yuzhang was… a bit intriguing.
Still, it was only a fleeting interest. Shen Chengduo wasn’t foolish enough to try seducing the president of Song Bank.
He looked like someone difficult to handle. Why bother? There were plenty of people out there—no need to pick the hard ones.
“Well then, Brother Song, take a rest here for a while.” Shen Chengdu waved and dismissed the two beautiful youths.
He took the boys next door and began interrogating them about what had happened after he left.
One of the boys was named A-Ye, the other A-Qing. A-Ye was bolder and more talkative. He said, “Fifth Young Master said we smelled too strongly of perfume and told us to go take a shower.”
Shen Chengduo leaned in to sniff—sure enough, they now only had the scent of clean water, no cosmetics or fragrance. It was indeed refreshing and had its own appeal.
“And then?” he asked.
“Then we came out all clean…” A-Ye giggled. “Fifth Young Master pulled us over.”
Shen Chengduo laughed too and pinched A-Ye’s chest. “Little rascal, having such a good-looking and refined man like Young Master Song all to yourself—must’ve made your day, huh? When we walked in, wasn’t he kissing you right here?”
A-Ye grinned. “No, Fifth Young Master just rested his forehead on my chest. Didn’t do anything. Very proper.”
Shen Chengduo’s temper flared. He squeezed harder. “So you’re saying I’m not proper, huh?” Then he motioned for A-Qing to sit on his lap too and kissed the boy’s neck. “And you? Where did Young Master Song touch you?”
A-Qing replied softly, “Just my back.”
“Take it off. Let me see.”
Shen Chengduo’s eyes moved like hooks across A-Qing’s back, as if trying to visualize how Song Yuzhang had touched him.
Unconsciously, he asked, “How did it feel when he touched you?”
A-Qing blushed, glanced shyly at Shen Chengduo, lightly bit his lip, and said in a low voice, “Fifth Young Master’s hand… was cold and smooth.”
Shen Chengduo couldn’t take it anymore—he grabbed the two boys and tumbled onto the bed.
When Song Yuzhang left, he was told that Shen Chengduo was ‘occupied,’ so he left a message behind, afraid Shen Chengduo would hold a grudge again for his unannounced departure. He added that tomorrow he would invite Shen Chengduo to the Song residence for a proper talk.
On the way back to the Song residance, Song Yuzhang was still feeling a little shaken, afraid a car might suddenly swerve at him, or a group of soldiers might drop from the sky.
His days hiding in Jiangzhou had truly traumatized him.
He really was unlucky.
He had provoked Meng Tingjing—a cold, poisonous snake.
Then Nie Yinbing—a mad dog who didn’t speak like a human being.
Sigh, looking around, only Song Mingzhao seemed adorable.
When Song Yuzhang got home, though reeking of smoke and alcohol, Song Mingzhao wasn’t angry. Like a gentle housekeeper, he asked if Song Yuzhang had eaten, eaten enough, enjoyed himself, if he was tired or thirsty, how his mood was. Song Yuzhang touched his defined jawline.
Song Mingzhao smiled, a little shyly.
The two brothers were like a pair of foreign siblings—always sticking close when they saw each other.
For Song Mingzhao, love made everything else irrelevant. As long as Song Yuzhang loved him, he had no worries. But the other three Song brothers seemed ready to go to war.
“You went to the bank today?” Song Jincheng asked, testing the waters.
“Mm.”
“That bastard’s gone?” Song Jincheng asked what he really wanted to know.
Song Qiyuan looked impatient, took a sip of chicken soup, and said, “Let’s eat. Tomorrow, go pick up Sister-in-law. Uncle Meng’s probably recovered by now.”
Hearing him make arrangements for even his personal affairs, Song Jincheng immediately felt annoyed. Those two slaps Song Qiyuan had given him were mostly healed now. Having forgotten the pain, he was ready to assert some ‘big brother authority’ again. Just as he was about to explode, Song Qiyuan coughed once, cleared his throat, and said mildly, “This chicken soup’s a bit salty.”
“Oh…” Song Jincheng backed off. “The chef we hired is from the North. Heavy seasoning.”
As the servants cleared the table, Song Qiyuan had already left. Song Jincheng turned to the always-silent Song Yekang and said, “Didn’t we agree to question him together? Why didn’t you speak up just now?”
Song Yekang, still recovering from his whipping, had grown much more obedient. “Eldest Brother, you were already talking. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Useless.” Song Jincheng sneered.
Song Yekang didn’t argue. “The real issue now is when Third Brother’s going to split the money with us. He was gone all day, and didn’t say a word about it when he came back tonight. Eldest Brother, don’t you think that’s odd?”
Song Jincheng did think it was odd, but since Song Qiyuan had already confided in them, he didn’t expect any changes. After all, if Song Qiyuan hadn’t said anything, who would’ve known that Song Zhenqiao had left behind some thirty million U.S. dollars for him in a Citibank account?
Song Jincheng walked toward the door, planning to go outside for some air, but unexpectedly saw Song Qiyuan talking to Liu Chuanzong at the entrance.
It was dark outside, and the lights near the door were dim. Narrowing his eyes, Song Jincheng vaguely saw Liu Chuanzong hand something to Song Qiyuan.
“Withdrawing from the bank—I can understand. But what is this? I’m the one covering all the withdrawals, but the deposits are all counted under his name?” Song Qiyuan was at a loss.
“Fifth Young Master said, if you’re not happy with it, he’ll just return the bank to you.”
Song Qiyuan had nothing more to say, so he simply wrote out a check and handed it over. “You’re by his side—can you tell whether he really has a way to save the bank?”
“Third Master, I’m just a servant. Whatever Fifth Young Master does, and what he intends by it, is not for me to guess.”
Song Qiyuan knew a bit of Liu Chuanzong’s personality—he was a heartless sort—so he didn’t press further and just said, “Stay close to him, and keep a closer eye on him.”
As Song Qiyuan turned to head back inside, he saw Song Jincheng standing there, hands behind his back, staring at him with an expression that was almost rolling its eyes.
Song Yuzhang had taken on a giant mess.
He himself had taken on a smaller one.
No matter what Song Yuzhang was thinking, Song Qiyuan was thoroughly fed up with his two foolish older brothers. Honestly, he was even beginning to miss the fourth brother. The fourth was dumb, yes, but he was sincere. These two, on the other hand, were obsessed with playing clever and full of dark thoughts. At this moment, Song Jincheng was smiling warmly, saying things like “The weather’s turned chilly, why didn’t you wear a coat when you went out,” but was no doubt secretly trying to guess what he’d just discussed with Liu Chuanzong.
Song Qiyuan didn’t want to explain. No reason. Just annoyed!
Nie Yinbing returned to the Nie residence and dragged out Nie Bonian.
“You’re not allowed to see that Song Yuzhang again.”
“Huh? Why?”
Nie Bonian looked completely innocent, holding half a boiled egg in his hand.
Nie Yinbing thought hard for a moment before finally coming up with a reason that wouldn’t agitate Nie Bonian but would get through to him. “He’s not hygienic.”
“Brother Yuzhang is very hygienic,” Nie Bonian protested. “He’s always clean and smells nice.”
Nie Yinbing smoothed his hair and said decisively, “In any case, you can’t play with him anymore.”
Having made his declaration, Nie Yinbing left without a second thought. Nie Bonian stood there with his half-eaten egg, stunned by the wind for a moment, then went back inside eating it. After all, Second Uncle often said strange things—better not to dwell on it.
Song Yuzhang reached an agreement with Shen Chengduo. They signed the contract in the Song family’s parlor. Shen Chengduo would invest 15 million US dollars. Of course, in return, Song Yuzhang promised a generous return—not too low, but also not exorbitant. Shen Chengduo didn’t care about that. He wasn’t in it for the interest.
“Brother Song, your house is so big—why are there so few people serving you?” Shen Chengduo asked.
“The family split. Many of the servants followed my brothers,” Song Yuzhang replied with a light smile. “Can’t have all the benefits fall to me.”
“That’s true. Still, this place is so big—with so few people, it feels cold. And it must be exhausting for them to keep it clean.” Shen Chengduo tried to hold back, but couldn’t resist grabbing Song Yuzhang’s hand. “Look at your hand—so cold.”
His comment was completely disjointed. Song Yuzhang thought: what does cleaning being hard have to do with whether my hands are cold or not? He looked at his own hand, confused. “The weather’s turned chilly these days.”
Shen Chengduo was inwardly panicking.
To him, Song Yuzhang was a friend, a brother he could go drinking and whoring with. Even if Song Yuzhang wasn’t into it, Shen Chengduo had mentally placed him in that category. After all, hadn’t they first met over that little jade courtesan? So this was all very natural in his mind.
But when he grabbed Song Yuzhang’s hand just now—quickly, not daring to linger lest Song Yuzhang grow suspicious—he felt it was completely different from grabbing one of those pretty boys. Not soft, but firm, with clear bones and tendons—a strong, powerful hand.
“Have a seat, Brother Shen. I’ll be right back.”
Song Yuzhang went upstairs with the documents.
As Shen Chengduo watched him go up, he noticed that although Song Yuzhang was tall and lean, the curve of his waist was surprisingly graceful—actually quite narrow when you looked closely.
Shen Chengduo’s thoughts wandered, but once Song Yuzhang’s figure vanished from view, his mind slowly cooled again.
What was he thinking?
When Song Yuzhang came back down, he brought a few more things for Shen Chengduo.
“Brother Shen, you’ve got a wide network. There are two things that only you can handle.”
Shen Chengduo thought: seems I’m really in demand lately.
Once Song Yuzhang explained, Shen Chengduo genuinely found it interesting.
First, someone had been forging bank notes. Not many, but the forgeries were coming from very specific locations. Song Yuzhang wanted Shen Chengduo to catch the culprits.
Second, there was a Director Liao at the Transport Bureau—wealthy, a gambler, a frequenter of brothels. Song Yuzhang wanted Shen Chengduo to dig into his background.
Both tasks were tricky in different ways, but perfectly suited for someone like Shen Chengduo.
“Leave it to me.”
“Thank you, Brother Shen. Sorry to trouble you,” Song Yuzhang said. “These two matters are crucial. Please give them top priority.”
“No problem,” Shen Chengduo replied. “We’re in the same boat—you can count on me.”
Even if the boat was a leaky one, the passengers were steadily increasing.
After Shen Chengduo left, Song Yuzhang crossed his legs, tapping his knee with his fingers as he plotted.
Liu Chuanzong, Shen Chengduo… and now Song Qiyuan, with one foot on board. Not bad. Almost gathered all the people he needed for this pilgrimage.
The one headache now was the unexpected reappearance of Nie Yinbing. That near miss last night had been far too close!
Song Yuzhang sat in silence for a long time, then rubbed his hands over his face.
If it’s fate, it’s fate. If it’s trouble, you can’t hide.
Through his fingers, his eyes glinted coldly. Nie Yinbing could say whatever he wanted—he was Song Yuzhang, not Zhao Jianfang. Zhao Jianfang had been hounded so badly he practically had to crawl into a dog hole. But Song Yuzhang? He wasn’t someone you could just point a gun at and force to take his pants off.
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