Song Yuzhang: Chapter 69 - Waver
Chapter 69: Waver
Shen Chengduo’s men dragged Qian Laosan straight out of bed in a brothel. Qian Laosan was the type who indulged in every vice—eating, drinking, whoring, gambling, you name it. As soon as they yanked his hair and pulled him off, he immediately begged for mercy: “Good sir, spare my life, let’s talk this out—I’ll pay the money back right away!”
“Shut your filthy mouth, you reek of opium!”
Qian Laosan was kicked and punched all the way into the car. His eyes were covered with a black cloth, and his hands were tied. He was very familiar with these methods, so he didn’t resist at all. He even opened his mouth obediently to bite down on the gag they gave him, which made the men laugh. “This bastard actually knows how to behave. Since you’re being so cooperative, let me tell you—you’ve landed in our Master Shen’s hands. Mind your dog mouth later and think carefully before you speak.”
Hearing that, Qian Laosan nodded desperately, making muffled ‘mmm mmm’ sounds, thoroughly subdued.
Shen Chengduo was having a meal when he heard the man had been caught, so he quickly put down his chopsticks and came to take a look. One glance at Qian Laosan’s face, which showed no trace of intelligence, made him doubt they had the right guy. He exchanged a glance with his men, who immediately stepped forward and gave Qian Laosan a brutal beating.
“You’re Qian Laosan?”
“Yes—yes,” Qian Laosan answered after the beating, hissing in pain but not daring to cry out. “Master Shen, spare me, please!”
Shen Chengduo thought, This idiot made counterfeit banknotes? He stomped on Qian Laosan’s head and asked if he’d done it.
Qian Laosan admitted he’d used counterfeit notes to scam people, but said he didn’t make them—he found them. After picking them up, he couldn’t exchange them at the bank, so he got the idea to use them to con people. He hadn’t done it many times, only when he was really short on cash. Most people wouldn’t fall for it.
“Found them?”
Shen Chengduo half-believed him and had his men beat Qian Laosan again until he barely breathed. Then he questioned him once more: “You really found them?”
Qian Laosan’s face was swollen like a pig’s head. Coughing up blood, he weakly replied, “Yes… I… found… them…”
Shen Chengduo was speechless. He ordered his men to keep interrogating him, to get him to say when and where he’d found the notes.
At the same time, he sent people to search Qian Laosan’s home for clues and asked someone to fetch Song Yuzhang.
“You’re saying the notes weren’t made by him?”
“Exactly. One look at the guy and you’ll know he can’t manage such fine work. He’s an opium addict with a dumb look. I doubt he even knows how to write.”
Song Yuzhang trusted Shen Chengduo’s judgment. In fact, he had suspected as much himself.
There are all kinds of scammers—some clever, some crude. Making counterfeit notes is difficult and labor-intensive, but it pays off long term. In contrast, Qian Laosan’s small-time scam was a one-off con. The inconsistency was obvious.
Also, the denominations of the notes weren’t large. They looked more like test runs or defective products made during attempts to create convincing forgeries. If Qian Laosan just picked them up, the story made more sense.
“Where did he find them?”
“He said he forgot.” Shen Chengduo chuckled. “I’ve got someone helping him remember.”
Song Yuzhang understood exactly what that meant and smiled faintly. “I’ll trouble you then, Brother Shen. If you find any leads, do let me know. As for the person behind all this—if you catch them, don’t be as rough as you were with Qian Laosan.”
Shen Chengduo said, “I understand. Even when I catch cheaters in my casino, I don’t go too hard on them. I just make them work for me to spot other cheaters. Their eyes are sharper than any of my men.”
“Wise of you,” Song Yuzhang complimented.
“Not at all,” Shen Chengduo laughed. “You’re wise yourself, Brother Song.”
As they were flattering each other, the men sent to Qian Laosan’s place returned. They brought back two unused counterfeit notes and a yellow-haired little girl—literally yellow-haired. Her face was sallow and skinny, her body nothing but bones, her hair a mess of dry, yellow strands. Only her eyes were bright and full of terror.
“Well now, who’s this? Qian Laosan’s daughter?” Shen Chengduo slapped his thigh and said.
“Nope. She’s a little girl he got with those fake notes. That bastard planned to sell her to a brothel but wanted to have a go at her first himself. The kid’s still too young to handle that, so he used her as a servant for now. When we showed up, she was polishing his shoes.”
“Fuck that son of a bitch. He’s a wreck himself and still keeps a servant.”
Shen Chengduo cursed with a laugh. He had no shortage of servants himself, and this little girl didn’t look like much, so he ordered his men to throw her out.
“Wait.”
Song Yuzhang raised a hand and looked at the trembling girl. “Is your name Juan’er?”
The girl’s eyes lit up. Trembling, she said, “Yes…”
Song Yuzhang beckoned the man holding her and whispered a few words.
“Yes, understood, Fifth Young Master. Don’t worry.”
Shen Chengduo puffed on his cigar and grinned. “Fifth Young Master, you sure have a soft spot for damsels in distress.”
“She’s just a little girl—nothing resembling a damsel,” Song Yuzhang said as he sipped his tea. “If you’re going to do business, Brother Shen, best to also accumulate some virtue. That’s the way to lasting success, don’t you agree?”
Shen Chengduo was the least virtuous man around, yet under Song Yuzhang’s gentle gaze, he couldn’t help but feel a faint stir of conscience and nod along.
After Song Yuzhang left, Shen Chengduo snapped out of it, thinking, Virtue, my ass—I don’t believe in that stuff!
When Song Yuzhang returned to the Song residence, the servants hurried over to report that Third Young Master had arrived.
“Where is he?” Song Yuzhang asked, undoing the buttons of his coat.
“In the rear garden, talking with Fourth Young Master.”
Song Yuzhang handed over his coat. The smell of Shen Chengduo’s cigars clung to it, which Song Mingzhao would surely wrinkle his nose at.
As Song Yuzhang made his way to the garden, he saw the two Song brothers standing beneath an osmanthus tree that hadn’t yet bloomed. Though the blossoms were still just small buds, they were already faintly fragrant. The two were chatting calmly and peacefully.
“…That’s good then.”
That was all Song Yuzhang caught of Song Qiyuan’s words before the man fell silent upon seeing him approach.
Song Mingzhao’s face lit up when he saw him. “Xiao Yu, you’re back!”
He wanted to hug or kiss him, but felt shy doing so in front of Song Qiyuan. Though there was nothing improper about his brotherly affection, he still hesitated—like someone who had picked up a treasure from the street, knowing it was good but feeling unworthy to show it off.
“Fourth Brother,” Song Yuzhang greeted him first, then turned to the other. “Third Brother, you’re here.”
Song Qiyuan nodded slightly.
In the past, whenever Song Yuzhang saw Song Qiyuan, the latter would always be smiling. But ever since Song Zhenqiao’s death, that smile had mostly vanished, replaced by a faint air of resentment.
“It’s almost the fifteenth—I came to check in,” Song Qiyuan said.
“It’s the day after tomorrow, right?” Song Yuzhang replied, then turned to Song Mingzhao. “Fourth Brother, tell the kitchen to box up some of our homemade mooncakes for Third Brother to take with him.”
“Oh, okay.”
Song Mingzhao left without hesitation.
Song Yuzhang watched him go, and when he looked back, he saw Song Qiyuan watching him with a rather complicated expression. “Fourth Brother really listens to you.”
Song Yuzhang smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Eldest Brother and Second Brother are hard to manage, huh?”
Both of them knew full well about Song Yuzhang's true identity. His casual tone carried a hint of teasing. Song Qiyuan had been frowning for days, constantly lecturing others. For once, he couldn't help but joke, “Yes, they're hard to manage. I brought them to you—how about you take over for a few days?”
“I’d rather not,” Song Yuzhang said, leisurely shaking his head with his hands behind his back. “One fool is enough. Three fools together can beat Zhuge Liang—I’m afraid I can’t handle that.”
Song Qiyuan couldn't help but laugh.
Liu Chuanzong had been relaying messages between the two. Song Qiyuan, observing from the sidelines, saw that Song Yuzhang seemed genuinely committed to running the bank well. After today's discussion with Song Mingzhao and learning how well he treated Song Mingzhao, Song Qiyuan couldn’t help but see him in a new light.
Who cared if they were real brothers or not? Even real brothers might not share the same mind. Song Qiyuan tried to set aside the fact that Song Yuzhang had assumed another's identity and judge the man objectively. No matter what, what Song Yuzhang was doing now was what he himself had wanted to do—but never dared. Just for that, he had to give the man some respect. He, himself, was just pretending to be carefree while actually avoiding responsibility. That wasn’t anything admirable—so what right did he have to look down on Song Yuzhang?
Calmly, Song Qiyuan said, “The bank can still hold up for now, but by the end of the month, not only will Director Liao’s two million be due, there’s also a huge batch of quarterly interest payments. All together, it’s not a small amount.”
“I know.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“Let’s try to postpone Director Liao’s payment.”
Song Qiyuan couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you even know who Director Liao is? You think you can just tell him to wait, and he will? Are you two close or something?”
“I don’t know him,” Song Yuzhang replied. “But I heard he really likes opera.”
“So?” asked Song Qiyuan. “What play are you planning to sing for him?”
“Why would it be me? Isn’t the person in our family who knows opera best you, Third Brother?”
“Me?” Song Qiyuan’s eyes widened slightly. “You want me to convince Director Liao? That’s impossible,” he said flatly. “First of all, I hate socializing with people like him. Second, what reason do I even have to ask him to delay?”
Song Yuzhang walked a bit closer to the flowering trees, enjoying their fragrant scent. He said softly, “Today at Shen Chengduo’s place, I ran into a little girl.”
“She’s twelve. Her own mother sold her to an opium addict.”
“Third Brother, what do you think will become of her?”
Song Qiyuan frowned. “Why are you telling me this? What does that have to do with Director Liao?”
“What does it have to do with him?” Song Yuzhang turned, his expression calm. “Do you know why her mother sold her?”
“'There’s no food at home, we’re desperate. Master, have mercy,'”
Song Yuzhang said, mimicking the woman’s words in a soft voice. Then he continued, “If the bank collapses, do you know how many more mothers and daughters like them will appear? They don’t ask for much—just enough to eat. What about you, Third Brother? I bet you think you don’t ask for much either.”
“You want to be the elegant Third Young Master Song, waving your sleeves and receiving a standing ovation at the White Tower. You want to be carefree, unbothered by worldly concerns. You’re resentful—resentful that you’ve been dragged into things you don’t want to deal with. But Third Brother, how many years have you lived like that? Compared to them, have you ever worried for even a moment about where your next meal would come from?”
“You didn’t know what sorrow was as a youth, Third Brother—you’re a young master who’s never known sorrow. At best, you’re detached from worldly affairs. At worst, you’re just being pretentious. Do you really think your own comfort is more important than everything else?”
“Think hard, Third Brother. With all that cleverness in your head—what have you actually done that’s useful?”
Song Qiyuan said nothing, his face pale. In truth, he didn’t entirely fail to understand—it was just easier to pretend not to. He couldn’t bear the weight, yet couldn’t escape it either, constantly pulled in opposite directions. That was his weakness, and his tragedy.
“You don’t need to convince Director Liao,” Song Yuzhang said gently. “Just maintain a good relationship with him. In the future, help make some introductions. I’m not shirking—I really do have things I need to handle right now. I’ll explain later—you’ll understand.”
Song Qiyuan was silent for a while, then slowly said, “Alright.”
Song Yuzhang asked, “Have you eaten yet? If not, stay and eat. You didn’t take any of the cooks with you. After eating here for so many years, I bet nothing outside tastes right.”
“No need.”
Song Qiyuan walked away, hollow-eyed. But Song Yuzhang, in contrast, was in high spirits.
Judging by how he reacted to Xiao Yuxian, Song Yuzhang knew that Song Qiyuan could be swayed.
After all this time of slow-boiling the frog, today’s hard push had shaken him by at least fifty or sixty percent. Sooner or later, both the man and his money would fall into his hands.
And when that time came, if he didn’t wring every ounce of usefulness out of Song Qiyuan, then Song Zhenqiao really would have died in vain!
Back upstairs, Song Mingzhao was warming his bed. He got out of bed to hug him. “It’s so cold outside, and you didn’t even wear a coat. Your body’s freezing.”
“I wore one—I just took it off when I got back.” Song Yuzhang beamed. “Third Brother was here just now. I noticed you were a little shy.”
“What were you talking about down there with Third Brother for so long?”
“The bank.”
“The bank? You want him to help out at the bank?”
“That’s the plan.”
Song Mingzhao responded with an ‘oh,’ sounding a bit glum. Song Yuzhang looked up at him. “What, you're not happy?”
Song Mingzhao forced a smile. “Of course I’m happy.”
“If you want to work at the bank too, I can arrange a position for you.”
“No need. I like it at school.”
Song Yuzhang held his hand gently. “Don’t overthink things, Fourth Brother. Among all my brothers, you’re the only one I’m truly close to. As for Third Brother—he’s different.”
Song Mingzhao felt a little sour and a little sweet, and responded with a quiet “Mm. I know.”
Just as the two were enjoying their sweet moment, a servant called from downstairs: someone was outside kneeling, begging to see Song Yuzhang. He went down to look and found that it was Sun Qiniang with that little girl.
“Master, please take Juan’er in. Let her be a maid for you. I’m useless. If she stays with me, we’ll both starve to death. I’ve already sold her once—I can’t do it again. I’m old—my life doesn’t matter. But she’s still young. You’re a kind man—please, I beg you, take her in. I’ll kowtow…”
Song Yuzhang told the servants to help the mother and daughter up. Then he turned to them and said, “Take them to Third Young Master.”
"Third Young Master?"
“Just take them—Third Brother will know what to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
The servant brought the mother and daughter to the small building where Song Qiyuan lived. After hearing what had happened, Song Qiyuan said nothing for a long while, then gave a slight wave of his hand. “Let them stay.”
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