Song Yuzhang: Chapter 101 - Zhao Jianfang
Chapter 101: Zhao Jianfang
Inside the room, all was silent, save for the slow ticking of the clock.
Nie Xueping’s eyes were equally calm, reflecting a very beautiful image of Song Yuzhang.
This was the second time Song Yuzhang had ever broken up with someone.
To be honest, he wasn’t good at breakups—he dreaded emotional confrontations. In the past, whenever he wanted to end things, he would simply disappear.
But now, there was no escaping. To be Song Yuzhang meant bearing the responsibilities that came with the role.
Whether it was the bank or relationships—it was all the same.
Seeing that Nie Xueping wasn’t reacting for a long time, Song Yuzhang let go of him first, intending to slide off of him. But the moment he moved his hips, he was held tightly at the waist.
He looked at Nie Xueping.
Nie Xueping’s expression was calm, his gaze deep, but he didn’t say a word.
Song Yuzhang lowered his eyes slightly.
Nie Xueping hadn’t done anything wrong. The breakup was unreasonable. But hadn’t his previous lovers also done nothing wrong? Let’s just call it a case of no longer liking him.
So, with determination, Song Yuzhang said, “Mr. Nie, I’m tired of this.”
Nie Xueping still didn’t move. The fire between them slowly died down.
“Mr. Nie, you said before that I had a choice,” Song Yuzhang said, staring at the last button on Nie Xueping’s shirt. “Now, I choose to end this.”
When he finished speaking, silence returned again, the air around them seeming to solidify, an invisible pressure weighing heavily on Song Yuzhang. Then, a finger gently lifted his chin.
Song Yuzhang looked into Nie Xueping’s eyes.
Nie Xueping quietly stared back at him. There was something in his eyes, but Song Yuzhang could no longer read it.
If Nie Xueping decided to turn hostile, he would accept it. He had no other choice.
Still, Nie Xueping just looked at him. Song Yuzhang let him. And slowly, he noticed that Nie Xueping’s desire was returning.
He was a little surprised. Having resolved to cut ties with both Nie brothers, he decisively tried to get up. But his waist was still being held down.
“Mr. Nie…”
Song Yuzhang was silenced by a kiss.
Nie Xueping’s kiss was endlessly gentle and lingering, making it impossible for Song Yuzhang to resist.
As they kissed, Nie Xueping suddenly lifted him up. Off balance, Song Yuzhang wrapped his arms around Nie Xueping’s shoulders. As they turned, he was set down onto the desk.
The desk was cold and hard, and as he sat, a slight shiver ran through him. He pushed Nie Xueping away and murmured, “Mr. Nie, we agreed…”
But the last two words were swallowed in another kiss.
Nie Xueping had always been a gentleman. Whether in public or in private, Song Yuzhang could feel his restraint, his attentiveness.
This was a kind of pampering. Song Yuzhang hadn’t been pampered like this in a long time, and he was somewhat intoxicated by it.
But in love, you can’t just take and never give back.
Now he owed Nie Xueping something, too. That repayment would be severing ties with both Nie brothers.
Especially after what Nie Yinbing had said earlier—it showed he still cared enough to cover for him.
The least he could do was not harm the two brothers further.
Turning his thoughts over, Song Yuzhang turned his face away from Nie Xueping’s kiss. “Mr. Nie, let’s stop here!” He pushed Nie Xueping away, jumped down from the desk, and without looking back, walked straight out of the study.
Fortunately, he didn’t run into Nie Yinbing on the way out and exited the Nie residence smoothly. Climbing into the car, he let out a deep breath. Seeing his pale face in the rearview mirror, he rubbed his forehead and said, “Drive. Take me home.”
At the dock, a passenger ship docked, and several people were led into Meng Tingjing’s office. Meng Tingjing glanced around at the five of them and asked who they were.
They each introduced themselves: one was the owner of a horse racetrack, another a hotel owner, one a hotel cleaning staff member, another sold cigarettes at the racetrack, and the last was a flower-selling girl.
Meng Tingjing crossed his long legs, resting them on the desk, and scrutinized them all again.
Nie Xueping had formally asked him and Liao Tiandong to help find someone for Nie Yinbing. That was fine. But why had Song Yuzhang acted so strangely about it? There was definitely something suspicious going on.
Meng Tingjing lit a cigarette and asked lazily, “Tell me, what kind of person is this Zhao Jianfang?”
The racetrack owner jumped in first: “Mr. Zhao is incredibly handsome, even better-looking than movie stars—just exudes charm. When he came to our racetrack, people stopped watching the horses and just watched him.”
The cigarette vendor chimed in: “Mr. Zhao is really funny, always cracking jokes. And he’s very generous with tips.”
The flower girl said, “Mr. Zhao is a good man. He often bought flowers from me—always bought a whole basket.”
The cleaning staff said, “Mr. Zhao was polite, always spoke gently with us, and always gave us tips after we finished.”
Finally, the hotel owner added, “Mr. Zhao didn’t have any noticeable accent or traits. Aside from being tall and good-looking—oh, and he loved southern pastries and crab. I figure he’s probably from the south.”
Meng Tingjing had a cigarette hanging from his lips, though he didn’t light it—just let it dangle precariously, nearly falling onto his trousers.
After a while, he waved his hand, face full of complex emotions, and told his subordinate, “Take them away.”
The subordinate responded, and once the group had left, Meng Tingjing called in another subordinate. “Go lock those people up in a warehouse. If anyone asks, just say that ship hasn’t docked yet. Got it?”
“Yes, understood.”
Once the office was empty, Meng Tingjing began pacing, then exploded internally: “Bastard! Addicted to sleeping with men now?!”
He was absolutely furious—Song Yuzhang was truly outrageous. First the younger brother, now the elder one too. The man had no shame! And he had the nerve to accuse him of calling names like "slut" or "trash"? Wasn’t that accurate?
Scoundrel!
While Meng Tingjing was rampaging in his office, someone came to report: “Second Master Nie is here.”
Nie Yinbing? A buzz rang in Meng Tingjing’s ears. He shook his hand sharply and said stiffly, “Let him in.”
Nie Yinbing entered the office. Meng Tingjing had his back to him. The two only knew each other by name and weren’t close. Nie Yinbing got straight to the point: “Have those people arrived?”
The back before him stood straight and still. After a moment, a cold voice replied, “No.”
“If they do arrive, don’t let them disembark. Send them back immediately.”
Meng Tingjing’s eyes flicked sideways, but before he could say anything, Nie Yinbing had already turned and walked off, boots thudding.
The encounter left Meng Tingjing dizzy with rage. He had been trying to cultivate calm recently and had improved his self-control, but he hadn’t expected such a massive blow from the heavens. Steaming with fury, he sent someone to summon Song Yuzhang to the docks.
While waiting, Meng Tingjing went to the warehouse where the group was held. As he walked, he couldn’t help thinking how audacious Song Yuzhang was—not even afraid of bumping into Nie Yinbing? And now tangled up with Nie Xueping too? What on earth was going through Song Yuzhang’s mind? Seeking thrills?! If that was the case, then why treat him with such disdain? Talk about not wanting to be a "plaything"—how much sincerity did he have for anyone?
The more Meng Tingjing thought, the angrier he got. He wanted to grab a whip and lash everyone in the room—but rationally, he knew they were innocent. So he swallowed his temper and ordered someone to bring him a chair to sit down.
As for the five people from Jiangzhou, they had already been interrogated by the local soldiers a year ago when Zhao Jianfang disappeared. Nothing useful had come of it, and Nie Yinbing hadn’t allowed anyone to interfere during the sketching process, so they had gotten used to being questioned without result. They had not expected that this trip to Haizhou would feel so… off.
The warehouse was stuffy and dark, crates stacked high around them. The racetrack owner was worldly enough to realize this was the perfect place for murder and cover-up. Seeing Meng Tingjing’s cold, ruthless expression, he began to feel chilled. The others also grew uneasy—no one understood why they were being locked up like this.
“Come,” Meng Tingjing said coldly. “All of you. Tell me the story between Zhao Jianfang and Nie Yinbing.”
Meanwhile, Song Yuzhang had returned to the Song residence and collapsed into bed. He was exhausted—emotionally and physically drained.
He actually managed to dream—a rare occurrence. And in his dream were all his past lovers, every one of them furious at him, parading past like a lantern show. He woke up feeling like he’d been beaten by a mob.
Dazed, he sat on the bed. A servant came upstairs to tell him that someone from the Meng family had arrived and asked him to come to the docks to see Meng Tingjing.
At this point, just hearing the name of anyone he’d had "relations" with gave him a headache. He thought he might as well become a monk and live out his days alongside Song Yekang. He simply replied, “Tell them I’m busy. Not going.”
He went to the bathroom to clean himself up, changed into soft pajamas, and crawled back under the covers. He planned to sleep until everything passed and start over. From now on, if he ever got involved with another man, it would be one with no entangled interests.
He really should broaden his horizons. There was no need to fixate on men like the Nie brothers. A plain-looking, gentle man would do just fine—he didn’t need men to make his fortune. And as for who topped or bottomed, well, he actually preferred being on the bottom anyway, so why fuss? If Meng Tingjing wanted to throw a tantrum, let him! He’d just keep the man hidden at home—what could Meng Tingjing do?
Song Yuzhang fell asleep again.
Perhaps because he had thought about Meng Tingjing before sleeping, his dreams were full of him—staring with hatred, eyes gleaming fiercely.
In the dream, Song Yuzhang asked in confusion, “Tingjing, didn’t you say you changed?”
“Changed? You wish! I’m telling you, Song Yuzhang—meeting me was your bad luck. Don’t even think about getting rid of me in this lifetime!”
Startled, Song Yuzhang jolted awake.
His long lashes veiled his eyes as he turned his head in a daze—and saw a blur of blackness. He blinked several times, and his vision slowly cleared. He saw black robes. His gaze traveled upward—right into the cold, impassive face of Meng Tingjing.
“Awake?”
“No time to see me, but you have time to nap in broad daylight?”
“Well, at least no other man is hiding in the bed!”
The three rapid-fire blows left Song Yuzhang wide awake. “Tingjing?”
Meng Tingjing looked down at him—his sleep-flushed cheeks and drowsy eyes only deepened his fury and stirred a dangerous heat. He leaned down and kissed him.
Song Yuzhang, still groggy from sleep, somehow ended up welcoming a kiss from a beautiful man. Meng Tingjing’s mouth tasted cool and clean, like a refreshing winter breeze. Because he wasn’t fully conscious, Song Yuzhang didn’t resist and even returned the kiss a little, instinctively.
Meng Tingjing climbed into the bed, lifted the covers, and slipped under them. As he groped and kissed, Song Yuzhang—still drowsy from a long nap—started to feel something stir.
The fire that had been extinguished at the Nie residence was quietly rekindling.
But though his body responded, his heart didn’t want it. He dodged Meng Tingjing’s lips and said, “Tingjing, stop messing around. I’m not in the mood right now.”
Meng Tingjing wrapped the quilt tightly around both of them and said coldly, “Oh? Not in the mood with me, but having fun with both Nie brothers? Hmm? Zhao Jianfang?”
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