Song Yuzhang: Chapter 102 - Talks of the Century
Chapter 102: Talks of the Century
Meng Tingjing stared hard at Song Yuzhang, trying to read his reaction. But Song Yuzhang responded with complete calm: “So you found out.”
Meng Tingjing was so furious his teeth itched. He leaned in to growl at Song Yuzhang’s ear, “They’re locked up in the warehouse at the dock. Tell me—should I let them go, or kill them all to keep their mouths shut?”
Song Yuzhang didn’t hesitate. “Don’t kill them.”
“Then I’ll just deliver them to the Nie family,” Meng Tingjing said.
Song Yuzhang turned his face and buried it into the covers. “Do whatever you want.”
“Bastard!” Meng Tingjing finally couldn’t hold back his curse. He wrapped his arms tightly around Song Yuzhang from behind. “You just think I can’t bring myself to hurt you, don’t you?!”
Song Yuzhang lifted his head, his face turning slightly with an expression of surprise. “What is it you can’t bear to do?”
“Don’t you wish I had nothing left, so you could make me kneel and beg?” Song Yuzhang turned away again, trying to bury his face back in the covers, but Meng Tingjing cupped his face and pulled it back out, leaning down to kiss him again.
The warmth under the blanket gave the kiss a sweetness it didn’t originally have.
Holding Song Yuzhang tightly, Meng Tingjing confirmed once again—this man was a shameless, unrepentant bastard. But he liked him. He really liked him. He wanted him.
“They’re all still locked up. Nie Yinbing came and told me to send them back the way they came. I’ve already put them on a boat back to Jiangzhou,” Meng Tingjing said softly, pinching Song Yuzhang’s cheek. “You’re bold, sneaking in and out of the Nie house like that.”
Song Yuzhang chuckled sleepily. “Fortune favors the bold.”
Meng Tingjing was speechless. “Weren’t you afraid you’d run into Nie Yinbing?”
“We’ve already met.”
Meng Tingjing was stunned at first, but his brilliant mind quickly ran through Nie Yinbing’s possible reactions. He stared daggers at Song Yuzhang. “You’d beg anyone for help—but not me?”
“How do you know I begged him, and he didn’t offer on his own?”
Once again, Meng Tingjing had no reply. He stared at Song Yuzhang’s flawless sleeping face, white and soft against the bedding, and said objectively, “You really are the kind of person who deserves a beating.”
“I agree,” Song Yuzhang replied. “Go ahead, strangle me.”
Meng Tingjing gripped his neck and gave him another kiss. “Don’t tempt me. I’m not falling for that.”
Song Yuzhang couldn’t sleep anymore after being messed with like that—not that he wanted to sleep. He’d just wanted to use sleep to cleanse himself, to be reborn. But that was self-deception, so he let the idea go. He sat up, half-reclining on the bed, and gave Meng Tingjing a sidelong glance. “You’re still in mourning. Lying in my bed like this doesn’t look great.”
Meng Tingjing glanced at him sideways and said coldly, “What, you think I’m trying to rape you?”
“You’re clinging to me, kissing me, squeezing me—if this isn’t rape, are you trying to pay respects to my ancestors?” Song Yuzhang said. “Don’t act like I owe you something. Get up and bring me a pack of cigarettes.”
Fuming, Meng Tingjing pulled a pack and a matchbox straight from his pocket. “Light it yourself!”
Song Yuzhang chuckled. “Thanks.”
He struck a match, lit the cigarette, and exhaled a slow puff. After a while, he heard Meng Tingjing ask, “Why did you run away back then? I mean Nie Yinbing.”
Song Yuzhang glanced at him, figured there was no harm in telling. Meng Tingjing probably knew more about his secrets than anyone in Haizhou. “He pointed a gun at me and told me to take off my pants.”
Meng Tingjing was briefly speechless, then gave his support. “Then you should have run.”
Song Yuzhang looked at him with a half-smile. “I ran from your bed too. Was I wrong to do that?”
Meng Tingjing frowned. “I didn’t force you. You came on your own.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Song Yuzhang said, tapping his forehead with his cigarette hand. “That night, I originally meant to sleep with Chen Hanmin.”
Meng Tingjing looked even more confused. “And I’m worse than Chen Hanmin how?”
“You…” Song Yuzhang lay on his side, lazily exhaling smoke. Through the haze, he looked at Meng Tingjing. “You made me very uncomfortable.”
Meng Tingjing’s expression darkened. “What?!”
Song Yuzhang half-closed his eyes, smiling faintly. “The truth stings, doesn’t it?”
Meng Tingjing leapt up in the bed.
“Song Yuzhang, have a conscience when you speak. Uncomfortable? That night—you were clearly in ecstasy!”
Strangely, Song Yuzhang didn’t feel angry at all. Watching Meng Tingjing flushed and fuming, he just found it funny. “No. You hurt me that night.”
“My thighs hurt for three days afterward. My ass too. I stayed in bed all day. The next day, you came banging on my door—what do you think I was bedridden for?”
Meng Tingjing rifled through his memory like reviewing case files. He remembered Song Yuzhang’s sickly look that day, and his bluster faded a bit. He sat back down and muttered, “I thought you were experienced… who knew you’d be so delicate.”
“Experienced?” Song Yuzhang shook his head. “Did you forget the ‘first-time bonus’ you gave me? A blank check. Big spender, Meng Tingjing. Don’t do that again. What if someone ruthless filled in a million or eight? A few rounds of that and even the Meng family fortune wouldn’t survive.”
Meng Tingjing was silent for a while. Then he turned to look at him. “You know better than anyone whether you’re ruthless or not.”
Song Yuzhang was briefly stunned.
Meng Tingjing moved closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “So just for that… I’m not lovable anymore?”
“Of course not.”
Song Yuzhang exhaled slowly. “But talking about all this is pointless. It’s in the past.”
Meng Tingjing looked down at his face. “But I can’t move on.”
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly and didn’t respond.
“Song Yuzhang, break things off with Nie Xueping,” Meng Tingjing said, eyes fixed on him. As if making a resolution: “Give me another chance. I won’t hurt you again.”
The words were hard to say. It meant giving up control. But he said them anyway—not from his head, but his heart.
Song Yuzhang didn’t respond right away. His head leaned crookedly on Meng Tingjing’s shoulder, eyes growing dazed through the drifting smoke. “I already broke up with Nie Xueping,” he said. Before Meng Tingjing could be happy, he added, “But I don’t want to be with you either.”
Meng Tingjing froze, staring at him angrily. “Why? Why not? Why won’t you just bow your head to me for once?!”
“This is the reason,” Song Yuzhang slipped out of Meng Tingjing’s embrace and sat cross-legged facing him. “Why do you always want me to bow down to you?”
“Tingjing, I really don’t know what it is you actually want. Do you want me to grovel at your feet, wag my tail, and beg? Do you want me to come and go at your command? Do you want me to obey you, submit to your control, and be your well-behaved little lover? Tingjing, that’s never going to happen.”
“Of course, I understand that you, Meng Tingjing, would never lower your head to anyone in this life. Even now, saying these words to me—you’re doing it while holding your nose, grudgingly and unwillingly. The way you look at me, it’s like loving me is the greatest injustice that’s ever happened to you. Tingjing, maybe you really do think too highly of yourself.”
“That’s why there’s a deadlock between us. Maybe on a whim, I’ll be happy to mess around with you. You’re very much my type—don’t glare at me—yes, I like casually sleeping with people. See? You can’t stand that either. The two of us are simply not meant to be together.”
“It's not like we haven’t been together before. Back then, I had to constantly accommodate you, coax you. But I’m not willing, and I won’t coax you for a lifetime. With your temperament, if you can’t be lovers, you’ll insist on becoming enemies. So I think—rather than making a mess of things later, why not just stay friends?”
“Or don’t be friends, that’s fine too,” Song Yuzhang lowered his head and took a drag from his cigarette. “Just saying,” he waved a hand, as if settling it once and for all. “We’re not suited to be together. If we are, trouble’s bound to happen. Either you’ll end up killing me, or I’ll kill you. Forget it—we should both try to live a little longer.”
With that, Song Yuzhang got off the bed and went to the bathroom to pee. He had barely unbuttoned his pants when Meng Tingjing followed him in.
Song Yuzhang glanced at him. “Don’t try anything funny.”
Meng Tingjing’s expression was calm. “Afraid I’ll pounce on you?”
“Can’t say,” Song Yuzhang replied. “I might not want a taste of you, but I’ve still got a sense of self-preservation.”
Meng Tingjing’s face darkened slightly. He admitted calmly, “I was furious and lost control that time.”
Song Yuzhang gave him a curious look.
“You said you’d choose anyone but me…” Meng Tingjing’s face turned colder. No matter what, he still couldn’t calmly accept those words. “I felt humiliated.”
“So you humiliated me in return?”
Meng Tingjing turned his face away, presenting a rigid jawline as an unspoken answer.
Song Yuzhang ignored him and proceeded to pee.
“Fine. Let’s call that even, then. I won’t hold it against you either—as long as you stop going crazy,” Song Yuzhang zipped up, turned on the faucet, and washed his hands. “We can still work together to fix the railway.”
“'Going crazy'?” Meng Tingjing latched onto the phrase.
Song Yuzhang finished washing and looked at him with a teasing smile. “Don’t lose it over just two words now.”
He stepped out of the bathroom, but Meng Tingjing grabbed him again. As he turned his head, Meng Tingjing kissed his neck. Song Yuzhang said, “Didn’t we just agree—no more madness?”
Meng Tingjing continued kissing the side of his neck, murmuring, “Didn’t you also just say—if the mood strikes, we can still mess around?”
Song Yuzhang placed a hand on his cheek and gently pushed it aside. “Save it for when the mood strikes. I’m not in the mood right now.” He turned and headed toward the door.
Meng Tingjing followed him. “You’re not saving yourself for Nie Xueping, are you?”
Song Yuzhang let out a short laugh. From a distance, he said, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not even keeping mourning for your own father—why would I stay chaste for him?”
Song Yuzhang hadn’t eaten much all day, so he asked the Song family chef to make him a bowl of chicken noodle soup—plain noodles with just an egg.
Meng Tingjing remarked, “That’s pretty damn pitiful.”
Song Yuzhang picked up a mouthful without looking up. “Can’t help it. I’m drowning in debt—dead broke.’
Hearing this, Meng Tingjing hesitated for a moment, then sat beside him, resting a hand on his thigh. “You’re not putting that debt on me, are you?”
“No. I don’t blame anyone for it. It was my own choice,” Song Yuzhang shot him a sidelong glance and smiled. “Like I said—no need to bring up the past.”
Meng Tingjing bowed his head. After a moment, he asked, “Because there’s no love left, and no hate either?”
“Mm.”
“What about Nie Xueping?”
“I loved it—but not enough.”
Meng Tingjing, trying hard to stay calm, asked, “And I? You don’t think you love it?”
Song Yuzhang sipped his soup and glanced back with a smile. “Not the same.”
“What’s not the same?”
Song Yuzhang kept his head down, speaking around a mouthful of noodles. “You made me hurt like hell.”
Meng Tingjing nearly slammed the table. “He’s been married—I haven’t! I don’t have experience!”
Song Yuzhang replied, “The first time I slept with someone, I didn’t hurt them.”
Meng Tingjing hadn’t expected to come accuse Song Yuzhang only to end up discussing his sexual history. His voice turned cold. “Wow. Amazing. Sounds like you were born for this.”
Song Yuzhang nodded while eating. After he finished the large bowl of soup noodles, he felt warm and content. He had to admit—Meng Tingjing’s presence had indeed diluted much of the longing and melancholy he’d been feeling for the Nie brothers. He turned to Meng Tingjing and said with a faint smile, “Since we’re on the subject, when are you going to lie down and let me top you once or twice?”
Meng Tingjing glared. “However many times you’ve slept with Nie Xueping, I’ll let you do me that many.”
Song Yuzhang shook his head slowly. “It’s not the same. You made me hurt. He didn’t. He made me feel good.”
At that, Meng Tingjing’s self-control finally snapped. He shoved the empty bowl aside with a loud clatter. “Just wait—I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be crying for your father and mother!”
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