Song Yuzhang: Chapter 68 - To Be Dumbfounded
Chapter 68: To Be Dumbfounded
Nie Xueping was slightly nearsighted in his right eye, so when handling affairs, he wore a monocle on his face. His gaze, cast through the thin lens, exuded a calm and gentle light—but still made the servants afraid to meet his eyes directly.
“Please ask him to wait in the guest room. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, sir.”
The servant tiptoed away from the study. Nie Xueping leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a point in the air. After a moment of silent contemplation, he rose, took a couple of steps from behind the desk, then remembered to remove his monocle. His fingers slid toward his collar, which was already perfectly straight and didn’t need adjusting. His hand slid down anyway, just like the soft sigh that escaped his lips.
“Mr. Nie.”
Song Yuzhang stood up with a beaming smile to greet Nie Xueping.
Nie Xueping also smiled and nodded at him. “Mr. Song.”
The servant had already served the tea. After sitting down, Nie Xueping glanced at the teacup, raised a hand to call the servant, and instructed, “Bring Mr. Song a cup of black tea instead.”
Song Yuzhang said, “No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Nie. This tea is already quite good.”
Since he said so, Nie Xueping didn’t insist. Though he was at home, he had just returned from the chamber of commerce, so he was still dressed formally—appropriately for receiving guests. Song Yuzhang wore a light gray suit, the kind that was clearly tailored in Paris. Parisian tailors seemed to design clothes to deliberately defy expectations; their suits were intricate and difficult to wear well. It took someone like Song Yuzhang, with his tall and refined figure, to carry it off. Nie Xueping’s gaze lingered on him briefly, and said, “Mr. Song, you must be quite busy lately?”
“Indeed. I just took over the bank, and there are many things I still find difficult to handle.” Song Yuzhang raised his teacup and took a small sip.
The Nie family served Jade Dew tea to guests. Tea leaves now were as precious as gold, and Jade Dew was among the most expensive. It was hard to say whether the Nie family was simply lavish or if Song Yuzhang was considered a distinguished guest.
Song Yuzhang didn’t have a comparison point, so he couldn’t tell.
“Take it slow,” Nie Xueping said gently. “The beginning is always the hardest.”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “Mr. Nie, are you busy today?”
That question was actually unnecessary—Nie Xueping was never idle. Upon hearing it, Nie Xueping hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Not busy. Is there something you need, Mr. Song?”
“It’s nothing urgent. I just came by to visit and express my thanks. I behaved inappropriately at your residence recently, and I truly regret it. Thank you, Mr. Nie, for your help that day.”
“It was nothing. No need to keep it in mind, Mr. Song. Has your health recovered?”
“It has. I’m grateful to your house steward for the timely aid that day—otherwise, it could’ve been serious.”
Song Yuzhang took out a box he had been hiding behind his back. “Just a small gift. Please don’t refuse it, Mr. Nie.”
Nie Xueping declined immediately. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Song, but I really can’t accept it.”
But Song Yuzhang was determined to give the gift. After all, it was a collectible left behind by Song Zhenqiao—something he couldn’t turn into cash. Giving it to Nie Xueping in an act of flattery was at least putting it to use.
Previously, apart from using the Nie family as a stepping stone and having some contact with Nie Bonian, Song Yuzhang had always avoided the Nie family—for one reason: Nie Yinbing.
Now that Nie Yinbing had returned, Song Yuzhang had thought it over. Since both of them were in Haizhou, it was inevitable that they would cross paths. Rather than passively waiting to be confronted, it was better to make the first move and be prepared.
He had someone secretly watch the Nie household. As soon as Nie Yinbing left, he showed up immediately to pay his respects and deliver a gift, hoping to establish some rapport with Nie Xueping. That way, when something eventually happened, he might be able to leverage the goodwill to earn himself a chance to explain. Besides, the Nie family, along with the Meng family, were the top houses in Haizhou. If the bank was to stage a comeback, collaboration with the Nie family would be essential. From every angle, forging a good relationship with Nie Xueping was necessary.
Since it couldn’t be avoided, he would face it head-on.
“It’s just a small token. Didn’t you once gift me a seal and painting? Reciprocity is the way of friendship.”
Song Yuzhang placed the box next to his teacup and looked sincerely at Nie Xueping. “Mr. Nie, please accept it.”
Nie Xueping avoided his gaze and no longer insisted on refusing. He picked up his teacup and took a small sip. “The tea’s gone cold.”
The servant came up to change the tea, this time replacing it with black tea. It was also a rare variety, rich and fragrant. Song Yuzhang took a sip and offered a few compliments.
The two chatted for a while longer, exchanging polite and empty remarks—talking about tea and painting, just casual small talk.
After checking the time, Song Yuzhang became concerned that Nie Yinbing might return suddenly. “I’ve disturbed you long enough—it’s time I took my leave.”
Nie Xueping rose. At first, he planned to have the butler see the guest out, but since he had received the guest personally, it would be improper to delegate that task. So he gestured outward and said, “Allow me to walk you out.”
Song Yuzhang didn’t decline. The two walked side by side. The Nie residence was shaded with lush greenery, and the faint scent of fruit lingered in the air, refreshing and pleasant. Song Yuzhang walked quietly, as did Nie Xueping. Only the gentle chirping of birds filled the space between them.
Nie Xueping walked him all the way to the gate. Song Yuzhang said, “Thank you for your hospitality today. If you’re free another day, I’d love to treat you to a meal. Please honor me with your presence.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. Song.”
“It’s the least I can do. And again, thank you for your care the other day.”
No sooner had Song Yuzhang returned home and started wiping his hands with a hot towel than someone from the Nie household arrived at his door. He invited the person in. The servant brought a small box. “Young Master Song, the young master said since you enjoyed the tea, he’s sending you some more. Please keep it for yourself.”
“Oh, I really couldn’t accept that,” Song Yuzhang said.
The servant smiled and left the box anyway.
Song Yuzhang handed the towel to the servant and opened the box. Inside was a finely crafted tin can, printed with large, vivid flowers. As soon as he opened the lid, the rich fragrance of black tea rushed out, carrying a hint of grape aroma.
He inhaled the scent thoughtfully. It seemed the head of the Nie family was not someone easily swayed. Song Yuzhang had just given a gift, and Nie Xueping immediately returned one in kind—clearly indicating he wished to keep things clear-cut.
Song Yuzhang closed the tin without frustration.
Everything is difficult at the beginning, he thought. Didn’t Nie Xueping say the same?
The bank managed to hold out for a few days in relative calm, but Song Jincheng and Song Yekang finally lost their patience. They directly questioned Song Qiyuan about what was really going on.
Every day, Song Qiyuan entertained Liu Chuanzong and was starting to seem like the second-in-command at the bank. But in truth, his position was just for show—he was merely a purse holder. And since the bank needed funds, he changed his mind and kept the thirty million still untouched for now.
“Third Brother,” said Song Jincheng, still speaking with a mild tone and feigning a calm demeanor, “after all, the three of us are in this together. Don’t you think it’s time you explained a few things?”
But Song Qiyuan couldn’t be bothered with hollow niceties. He replied bluntly, “Things have changed. Eldest Brother, Second Brother—why don’t you just spend your time reading newspapers and practicing your calligraphy? Focus on self-cultivation, and stop overthinking everything.”
Being lectured like a child left Song Jincheng red in the face. He was over thirty, after all—was he supposed to be afraid of Song Qiyuan?
Rolling up his sleeves like an enraged bull, he prepared to challenge him head-on.
Song Qiyuan, full of pent-up frustration himself, knew all too well that these two brothers were like unruly children who needed a beating every few days to stay in line. With a loud slap on the table, he stood up. “Song Jincheng, what do you think you’re doing?!”
“You treat the bank like your personal property, guarding it day and night, yet you don’t even realize how deep a hole it’s fallen into. Even before Father died, he wouldn’t tell you anything. Why? Because he knew you were useless and talking to you was pointless! If the bank were still doing well, do you think you’d have a say in how it’s run? You’ve been dreaming for too long—you’re starting to believe your own fantasy! If you’re not convinced, go out right now and take control of the bank yourself. You handle the debts, too. That way you won’t waste your energy constantly scheming against your own brothers!”
With that, Song Qiyuan flung the newspaper on the table straight at Song Jincheng. “Get out!”
Song Jincheng was scolded so ferociously that his heart was pounding. He stumbled out of the study, only to find Song Yekang lurking by the door, eavesdropping. Furious and needing somewhere to unload his anger, Song Jincheng made to lash out at him, too. But Song Yekang saw it coming and quickly slammed the door shut.
Song Jincheng cursed under his breath, but then his mood turned despondent.
Indeed, why hadn’t Song Zhenqiao ever told him about the bank’s massive losses? He had worked diligently at the bank every day and noticed nothing wrong. Had their father truly seen him as nothing more than a fool?
He sat on the stairs for a while, then reluctantly went to the Meng residence to pick up Meng Sushan.
Meng Huanzhang had been ill recently, and Meng Sushan had gone to visit him. Song Jincheng hadn’t really wanted to fetch her. He no longer felt like the man he used to be—especially not in front of the Meng family, who now made him feel inferior.
Meng Sushan didn’t come home with him. She said Meng Huanzhang’s condition was still serious, and she needed to stay to care for him.
“Oh. Then take care of yourself. Leave the housework to the maids—your health isn’t great either.”
“I will.”
She asked gently, “And you? Are you doing alright?”
Song Jincheng felt bitter and speechless. He couldn't bring himself to say he was well. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Third Brother’s temper just keeps getting worse.”
Meng Sushan replied, “He’s someone who values his freedom. Now that he’s the head of the household, he can’t live as freely as before. Of course, he’s upset.”
“So he’s allowed to be upset, but I’m not? If he doesn’t want to be the head, I could’ve taken the role!” Song Jincheng said indignantly.
Meng Sushan just smiled faintly and said nothing.
As Song Jincheng was leaving, he happened to run into Meng Tingjing. Forcing himself to seem spirited, he greeted her. Meng Tingjing treated him as politely as ever. “Come to see my sister?” he asked.
“Yes, yes.” Song Jincheng glanced at him. He looked confident and spirited, which only made him feel all the more shabby.
Meng Tingjing asked casually, “Still living with your brothers? I thought the family had split up?”
Song Jincheng gave a wry smile. “Split, yes—but not really cleanly. We’ll see.”
Meng Tingjing gave a mild smile and went inside to see Meng Sushan.
“Song Jincheng really is down and out these days,” he commented.
Meng Sushan only smiled. “You must be tired after a long day. Have some tea.”
Meng Tingjing didn’t drink. Staring at her sister with thinly veiled disappointment, she said, “It’s no way for a whole family to be crammed in that house. I bought a courtyard home on the west side of the city. In a few days I’ll send someone to take you over to look. If you like it, move there with Song Jincheng.”
“There’s a house at home. He didn’t get one, but the family has extras. You don’t need to go to the trouble.”
Meng Tingjing lifted her teacup, but set it down again. Looking at Meng Sushan with a trace of scorn, he asked, “What’s so good about Song Jincheng? He’s in such a state and you still won’t let go. Don’t pretend to be clueless—there are no fools in the Meng family!”
Meng Sushan had been hearing this kind of talk for years—ever since her wedding. She had never responded directly. Now, she just sighed softly, looked tenderly at her cold-faced sister, and said, “I know I’m a fool for loving him. But Tingjing, do smart people not have the right to be foolish sometimes?”
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