Song Yuzhang: Chapter 78 - Stalk
Chapter 78: Stalk
Song Yuzhang couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at the bruises on Liu Chuanzong’s face. “That brat actually hit you?”
“Yes,” Liu Chuanzong replied.
“Little wolf cub,” Song Yuzhang circled around to sit behind his desk. “If you really can’t handle him, I’ll just take him away.”
“I can handle him,” Liu Chuanzong said without hesitation.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly and looked up at him. Liu Chuanzong’s expression turned slightly unnatural as he avoided Song Yuzhang’s gaze. Song Yuzhang, with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, lowered his head again. “Then I’ll trouble you with him.”
Liu Chuanzong silently turned and left.
Song Yuzhang picked up his fountain pen, unable to stop smiling.
From the moment he saw that boy, he had thought he would be a perfect match for Liu Chuanzong to mentor.
They were both gifted youths. Surely, there’d be some mutual understanding. Liu Chuanzong was always solitary and lifeless—having a child around might not be so bad.
Not long after, Liu Chuanzong returned.
“Director Liao called. He wants to schedule a withdrawal for tomorrow.”
Song Yuzhang’s expression didn’t change. He simply said, “Got it.”
As expected.
Meng Tingjing was keeping tabs on him.
Though everything on the surface had seemed calm lately, Song Yuzhang was more inclined to believe that Meng Tingjing was enjoying the slow suffocation of watching him struggle.
What fun was there in crushing someone in a single blow? It was far more satisfying to apply pressure bit by bit, to watch a man full of hope descend into despair. That was how you really drove someone mad.
Song Yuzhang put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on the vivid red pigeon’s blood ruby on the desk.
No doubt countless eyes were watching his every move.
Was Meng Tingjing pleased with himself now?
Just yesterday, he had paid a visit to Director Liao and had a pleasant conversation. Now today, everything had changed. It was obvious that Meng Tingjing had pressured Director Liao.
Really, that wasn’t hard to figure out. As Shen Chengduo had said—what’s so impressive about holding office? There’s always a higher official above. Even if Liao Tiandong managed all of Haizhou’s transportation, he still had to take orders from the Meng family.
Meng Tingjing had the means. With a century-old maritime empire behind him, the foundation the Meng family had built was the envy of all—and practically unshakable.
Song Yuzhang carried on with his work steadily. That evening, after Song Qiyuan finished checking the accounts with Liu Chuanzong, Song Yuzhang said to him, “Third Brother, arrange a meeting with Director Liao tonight.”
Song Qiyuan’s thoughts stirred. “Where?”
“The same place as last time.”
“All right.”
Song Qiyuan hurried off, and Song Yuzhang stayed behind at the bank to eat the dry food Liu Chuanzong had brought. “These steamed buns are pretty good. Old Liu, is there anything you can’t do?”
Liu Chuanzong answered flatly, “There’s a lot I can’t do.”
Song Yuzhang realized Liu Chuanzong wasn’t naturally indifferent—he must’ve been worn down by something over time, turning him into this stiff, expressionless figure with all his thoughts buried deep inside.
Not wanting to tease him, Song Yuzhang finished half the bun, drank some water, and then said, “Come on, let’s go check on Third Brother.”
As instructed, Liu Chuanzong drove to the little house where the three Song brothers lived.
Technically, Song Qiyuan should’ve been at another private residence discussing things with Director Liao. But Song Yuzhang specifically told Liu Chuanzong to drive here instead. Liu Chuanzong, as always, asked no questions and dutifully did as he was told.
Song Yuzhang got out alone and rang the doorbell. It took a while before a servant opened the door in a rush. “Fifth Young Master, you’re here.”
“Why the rush? Someone chasing you?” Song Yuzhang smiled.
Just then, he heard what sounded like things being smashed inside. He understood immediately. “Second Brother?”
The servant gave a bitter nod.
Song Yuzhang smiled. “You’ve had a hard time. Where’s Third Brother?”
“He’s been out all afternoon. You might try the opera house.”
Song Yuzhang nodded, got back in the car, and said, “To the White Tower.”
Of course, there was no one at White Tower either, so Song Yuzhang naturally and unhurriedly went to considerable effort to just happen to find Song Qiyuan’s private residence, where he “accidentally” ran into Liao Tiandong.
Liao Tiandong, itching for some excitement that day, had brought along some treasured items to discuss and admire with Song Qiyuan. Though he felt a bit annoyed at the uninvited guest, he couldn’t say anything. After all, a younger brother visiting his elder to talk business—how could he stop that?
“I’ll take my leave so you two can talk.”
Liao Tiandong said with a slight bow and turned to go.
“Wait, Director Liao,” Song Yuzhang stepped forward, his eyes landing on the sword cradled in Liao Tiandong’s arms. He smiled, revealing his teeth. “That sword looks awfully familiar.”
Liao Tiandong glanced down at the sword, then looked at Song Yuzhang, a bit puzzled.
Song Qiyuan quickly stepped in, “Brother Tiandong, you may not know, but our fifth brother, even though he returned from England, is a huge opera fan. He used to be one of Xiao Yuxian’s biggest supporters.”
Liao Tiandong had heard rumors of a story between Song Yuzhang and Xiao Yuxian, but he never approved of such behavior—supporting an opera singer to the point of bringing him into your bed?
That wasn’t passion for opera. That was just prostitution.
Though nothing showed on his face, Liao Tiandong held the sword motionless in his arms. “Is that so? Then when Xiao Yuxian returned to his hometown, I imagine President Song must’ve been quite disappointed.”
“You jest, Director Liao. Actually, Xiao Yuxian and I weren’t…” Song Yuzhang smiled gently. “I just helped him out of a tight spot once. Who’d have thought it would turn into such a story? But I don’t mind. If tarnishing my reputation can allow him to focus on his craft, then I consider it worth it.”
Liao Tiandong seemed to suddenly understand. “Ah, so that’s how it was.”
Song Yuzhang smiled but said nothing.
Liao Tiandong believed what Song Yuzhang said almost without question. Given Song Yuzhang’s status, talent, and appearance, he really had no need to resort to paying for sex—there were already countless men and women flocking to him.
So, it was all just about loving opera.
Liao Tiandong said, “Although Xiao Yuxian has returned to his hometown, the newly arrived Xiao Fengxian at White Tower is quite good as well. Why haven’t I seen you at his shows?”
“Times have changed. I’m far too busy,” Song Yuzhang replied, placing a hand on Song Qiyuan’s shoulder. “Luckily, I have Third Brother to enjoy it on my behalf.”
“Go away—”
Song Qiyuan pushed his hand away.
Song Yuzhang chuckled. “Director Liao, this sword looks extraordinary. Since fate has brought us together today, why not let me appreciate it too?”
Holding a high position inevitably made Liao Tiandong wary. He found Song Yuzhang’s sudden appearance a little suspicious and suspected it was related to the two million US dollars. But he had no concrete evidence. And to suspect Song Yuzhang meant also suspecting Song Qiyuan.
Two brothers scheming in unison to get close to him—what were they really after?
Liao Tiandong remained skeptical but kept a calm expression. Graciously, he handed over the sword in his arms. “This belongs to the East City opera troupe. The performer’s not anyone famous, but the sword itself is a fine one—something from the Qing dynasty.”
“Really?”
Song Yuzhang accepted the sword—it was heavy. The scabbard was hard, and the red tassel danced lightly.
“May I draw it for a look?”
“Of course,” Liao Tiandong said, extending his arm in a gesture of invitation.
Song Yuzhang took two steps back.
This residence of Song Qiyuan’s was even smaller than the one shared by the three brothers. It had little furniture—just a sofa and coffee table in the sitting room. The crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the dark red floorboards, making them shine like agate. Standing beneath the chandelier, Song Yuzhang slowly drew the sword.
It truly was a fine weapon. The moment a sliver of the blade was exposed, its sharpness was evident. The snowy gleam flickered under the light, almost dazzling.
“Excellent sword,” Song Qiyuan couldn’t help but admire.
Liao Tiandong smiled faintly, hands behind his back. “It’s the real thing. Quite heavy. In a third-rate troupe, it’s a true treasure gathering dust. A shame, really.”
With a clang, Song Yuzhang unsheathed the sword fully and twirled it once. The movement wasn’t fast—his wrist turned slowly, and the blade glittered as it spun. Clearly, his motions were a bit unpracticed.
“Ah,” Liao Tiandong exclaimed. “President Song, a fellow opera enthusiast?”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “I’ve dabbled.”
“Not bad, not bad,” Liao Tiandong said in praise. “You’ve got some skill.”
Just as he finished speaking, Song Yuzhang twirled the sword again—this time faster. Before Liao Tiandong could comment, Song Yuzhang dropped his wrist, and a dazzling flourish of the blade whistled through the air right in front of Liao Tiandong’s face, cold light scattering everywhere. Still smiling, Song Yuzhang lowered the back of the blade behind himself.
“Director Liao, this sword really is exceptional.” Song Yuzhang slowly raised the blade, holding it horizontally before his eyes. His movements were calm, nothing out of the ordinary—but Liao Tiandong, with sharp eyes, immediately saw that Song Yuzhang had been trained from a young age. The snow-bright blade hovered in front of his focused gaze—one couldn’t even tell which was sharper: the sword or his eyes.
Dressed in a light gray suit, the ancient-style sword surprisingly suited him very well.
He said, “Director Liao, let’s talk.”
“They’ve come out.”
From a dark corner by the door, someone watched the three men intently, recording every detail of their interaction.
“He first went to the small residence on Beiyuan Road, then to White Tower, and finally to the small residence on Huidang Road. He stayed there for half an hour. When he came out, all three left together. Director Liao went first. The other two talked for a bit at the door—seemed like they parted on bad terms. Then he went home.”
“He went home?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t go to the Nie family?”
“No.”
Meng Tingjing looked thoughtfully at a lone star in the night sky. “Got it. You can go now. Keep watching.”
“Yes, sir.”
Meng Tingjing sat a while longer in the rocking chair, then stood and went inside. He picked up the phone, thought for a moment, and then set it down.
“Tingjing.”
Meng Sushan came out just in time to see him about to leave. She called out, “It’s so late, where are you going?”
“There’s something at the factory.”
“This late? Does it really have to be dealt with now?”
She pulled her shawl tighter, worry in her voice. “Take care of yourself. Weren’t you still dizzy during Mid-Autumn a few days ago?”
“I’m fine,” Meng Tingjing gave her a gentle smile. “Just a bit tired lately. Things will calm down soon.”
“That’s good...”
He hurried out. But Meng Sushan still looked worried. She felt something was wrong with him—but couldn’t quite say what. Lately, she’d been too busy taking care of Meng Huanzhang to pay proper attention to her younger brother. It had always been this way—she always had more important people and things to care about. If only someone could stay by his side, maybe then she could truly be at ease.
Meng Tingjing went personally to Liao Tiandong’s home.
Liao Tiandong welcomed him warmly. But Meng Tingjing didn’t mention Liao Tiandong’s meeting with the Song brothers—he had only ordered someone to tail Song Yuzhang, and if Liao Tiandong misunderstood, that would be problematic. So he simply asked indirectly about whether Liao Tiandong would withdraw his money tomorrow.
Liao Tiandong waved his hand casually. “Of course. If you say I should, then I know there’s a reason behind it.”
Meng Tingjing smiled faintly, set down his teacup, and said lightly, “Truth is, it’s a difficult situation for me. Technically speaking, the Songs and the Mengs are connected by marriage, but if I count carefully, my relationship with you, Director Liao, is even closer than that. So I have to weigh the pros and cons. To be frank, the Song Bank is currently in serious deficit. If you don’t withdraw your two million tomorrow, I’m afraid you’ll never see that money again.”
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