Song Yuzhang: Chapter 122 - Night Visit
Chapter 122: Night Visit
The Nie family’s business had suffered a heavy blow.
That blow had already begun while Nie Xueping was still alive.
The mines kept exploding, the ore that was dug out was hijacked during transport, and after Nie Xueping’s death, the Nie family naturally fell into chaos for a while. Once they barely steadied themselves, more explosions followed. The ore they had delayed in delivering had to be handed over; otherwise, the buyers would no longer be polite.
The Nie family’s business had always been with dangerous people—lavish in spending, but also ruthless and vicious.
Nie Yinbing could not allow this deal to fall through, so he planned to personally lead the team to deliver the ore.
He didn’t think of it as taking a risk, for fighting bandits had become second nature.
Even if it was a risk, he had no choice but to go. The Nie family’s business rested on his shoulders—if he had to bear it with his life, then he would bear it.
When Nie Qingyun heard about it, she immediately tried to dissuade him. “Second Brother, no, it’s not yet the end of the road. You can’t take such a risk. At worst… at worst, we’ll just spend more money to hire more men. But if something happens to you, what will I do? What will Bonian do?!”
Nie Yinbing said coldly, “If I don’t go, you and Bonian will be the ones in danger.”
Nie Qingyun was no longer the carefree young lady she once was. Deep down, she understood he was right. If this deal failed, the credibility crisis and chain reaction that followed would bring ruin upon the Nie family.
But compared to the rise and fall of the family, in her heart, it was the real, flesh-and-blood relatives who mattered more.
She had already lost one brother—she could not lose a second.
Nie Qingyun even began to feel a kind of hatred, hatred toward herself—for having only ever known how to enjoy comfort, for being utterly useless now, incapable of offering even the slightest help.
There was no way out. No way at all. She had cried and pleaded, but Nie Yinbing was firm. He was determined to go. When she realized he was about to lock her away, she gave up on illusion and slipped out of the house.
In her desperation, she thought of Song Yuzhang—thought of that embrace under the blaze of fire at the foot of the mine. She had no other choice. Pride be damned. She even prayed—prayed that Nie Yinbing still held feelings for Song Yuzhang, that he might save her second brother. She swore that if Song Yuzhang would extend this grace, she would repay him with all her heart, and never, ever harbor any resentment again.
“Qingyun, don’t worry,” Song Yuzhang grasped her cold hand, “I’ll go back with you right away.”
“O-okay…”
Nie Qingyun wiped away her tears and quickly pulled him into the car.
It had been some time since Song Yuzhang last saw Nie Yinbing.
To be precise, ever since he had gotten together with Meng Tingjing, he hadn’t seen him again.
Several times when he went to visit Nie Bonian, he hadn’t run into Nie Yinbing.
Nie Yinbing was keeping his word—resolutely maintaining his distance.
And Song Yuzhang himself had not thought of Nie Yinbing at all. In this new chapter of his life, he had cut out that part of him completely, for Nie Yinbing was not someone who brought him happiness.
But in the car, Song Yuzhang found himself lost in thought.
Life couldn’t just be about happiness.
Given the Nie family’s current plight, he was at least half responsible.
The logic was simple: if Nie Xueping were still alive, even in troubled times he would have been able to manage. At the very least, it wouldn’t have come to Nie Yinbing gambling his life.
Nie Xueping had died—died saving him. Even if Nie Xueping had been a total stranger, he owed his benefactor’s family a debt. To stand by and watch Nie Yinbing march to his death—then he would truly be less than human.
The Nie household was deathly quiet. At the gate, Nie Mao met them and, seeing the situation, knowingly led Song Yuzhang toward Nie Yinbing’s courtyard.
There were still lights burning in Nie Yinbing’s quarters. At the courtyard gate, Song Yuzhang turned to Nie Qingyun and Nie Mao and said, “Wait here. I’ll go in alone.”
Nie Mao let out a quiet “Eh.”
Nie Qingyun looked at Song Yuzhang through tear-filled eyes—everything she wanted to say was already in her gaze.
Song Yuzhang turned his head away, then stepped heavily into the courtyard.
Inside, Nie Yinbing was cleaning his weaponry. When Song Yuzhang entered, he saw him running a rod through the barrel of a gun, then blowing sharply into it.
Hearing the footsteps, Nie Yinbing didn’t even lift his head.
Likely he’d grown tired of all the repeated attempts to dissuade him. He wasn’t willing to listen anymore.
“Yinbing.”
The familiar voice made his hand freeze mid-motion.
He hesitated for a few seconds before slowly turning his face.
Song Yuzhang’s cheeks were flushed pale-red from the winter wind, his clothes crumpled, his whole appearance weary and travel-worn. His brows were faintly furrowed as he looked at Nie Yinbing. For a brief instant, Nie Yinbing could not tell whether this was reality or a dream.
Song Yuzhang’s eyes flicked to the gun in his hand. These days, the sight of guns filled him with inexplicable loathing. He snatched it away and tossed it aside.
“Qingyun said you plan to escort the goods yourself? Do you even realize there’s a war raging in the north right now?” Song Yuzhang fixed him with a cold, sharp stare. “Do you think having a gun makes you invincible? Will artillery shells swerve away from your weapon? Nie Yinbing, you think you’re going to play the hero—what you’re really doing is walking to your death!”
Nie Yinbing sat motionless, his eyes calmly fixed on Song Yuzhang.
In those pupils, Song Yuzhang saw only the reflection of his own grim face. He barked, “Nie Yinbing, answer me!”
Nie Yinbing just kept looking at him, his lashes slowly trembling once, and said softly, “You came.”
Song Yuzhang knew that words would be hard-won. He simply dragged over a chair, sat beside him at an angle, and declared firmly, “You can’t go. It’s too dangerous.” He turned his face again and repeated, “Far too dangerous.”
“I know.”
“You know, and you’re still going?”
Nie Yinbing’s head hung low. Even in the dead of winter, he wore little—just a thin shirt. His hair, tied short at the nape, revealed the jutting bones of his back.
After a long pause, he said, “I have to go.”
Raising his face, he looked at Song Yuzhang. “There’s never a time without danger. I didn’t die then, and I won’t die now.”
“What makes you so sure?” Song Yuzhang’s brows drew together, a trace of anger flashing in his eyes. “Did you expect Nie Xueping to die like that?”
Nie Yinbing stayed silent, only staring at him.
“Who can ever foresee how they’ll die?”
“Yinbing, I’m not afraid to tell you—six months ago, I survived a shipwreck, and I nearly died. Before boarding, I would never have imagined I’d be in mortal danger. Life is unpredictable, and a person only has one life. No—” Song Yuzhang slammed one hand on the table, his eyes fixed ahead, his heart pounding heavily. In a commanding tone, he said, “I won’t allow you to go.”
He looked at Nie Yinbing again, locking eyes. Song Yuzhang stared intently, as if he could force his will straight into him. “Nie Yinbing, I won’t allow you to go.”
He was using his feelings as leverage, a one-sided emotional hostage-taking. It was arrogant, shameless, and wrong—but if it could save Nie Yinbing’s life, it was a mistake he was willing to make.
As expected, Nie Yinbing remained silent. He neither agreed nor disagreed, just sat quietly.
In Nie Yinbing’s mind, the family’s fate and personal emotions were incomparable—entirely different matters.
He was willing to give up Song Yuzhang for Nie Xueping because he had feelings for both of them. The combined weight of both relationships outweighed that of his own, so he could let go. But business and emotion were separate; he could not compare them, nor could he respond.
Song Yuzhang’s heart sank into a deep pit.
Nie Yinbing had his own code of conduct. Song Yuzhang could force him not to like him, but he could not force him to value his own life.
Perhaps, in Nie Yinbing’s mind, his life was not as important as the family’s fate, so he was willing to sacrifice himself.
There was no reasoning with him—Song Yuzhang had to find another way.
All the way there, Song Yuzhang thought hard, and finally came up with one possible solution.
He knew the month of happiness he’d enjoyed might be ending, so he calmly proposed: “One day. Give me one day—at least don’t go tomorrow.”
Nie Yinbing lowered his face. After a moment, he slowly said, “Fine.”
Song Yuzhang immediately stood and left.
Nie Qingyun was waiting at the gate. As soon as he emerged, she hurried up to him, her eyes sparkling. “So? Did Second Brother agree to stay?”
“He’s not leaving for now. Keep an eye on him—I’m afraid he might change his mind. If he insists on going later, send someone to Meng’s residence to find me immediately.”
“Okay.”
She agreed at once, then hesitated. “Meng’s residence?”
Song Yuzhang said, “I need to go to the Mengs’. If it goes smoothly, I’ll send word to you.”
Seeing his serious expression, Nie Qingyun slowly understood. She was no longer a carefree young lady. After a few mental turns, she said, “You want to ask Meng Tingjing to let us use the waterways?”
“It’s a negotiation, not a request.”
Her lips trembled. “Meng Tingjing… he may not agree. We’ve always kept to ourselves, but the railway reconstruction was a huge offense to him. The Mengs have never been easy to deal with. When our eldest brother was alive, he could barely maintain appearances. Now, what leverage do we have to negotiate…”
“I suggested building the railway, so the offense is mine. Don’t worry. Either way, payment will be made. Goods for a cut—no one refuses money.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“No, you stay,” Song Yuzhang said. “He may not treat your family kindly. If you go, it could make things worse. Stay here and watch over Yinbing. Wait for my signal.”
Song Yuzhang’s mind was crystal clear. With the Nie family’s situation, if Meng Tingjing didn’t thrash them, it would be fortunate enough—let alone offer help. Nie Qingyun lacked the weight, and even if Nie Yinbing went himself, he likely couldn’t negotiate successfully. Given his sharp tongue and Meng Tingjing’s temperament, one wrong word could erupt into violence.
Only he—Song Yuzhang—could do it.
He left the Nie residence, driven entirely by impulse, and ordered the driver to head straight to the Meng residence.
On the way, he rolled down the window. The cold wind cut sharply, and the speeding car turned it into a near gale. Song Yuzhang’s face felt numb from the wind.
At the Meng residence, Meng Tingjing returned to his small courtyard. After leisurely finishing his evening grooming, he sat at the bedside, tilting his head over the ledger. Suddenly, he thought: “I need another chair.”
Aside from the bed, a soft seat, and the chair at the desk, there was nowhere else to sit in his room. Hence, whenever he and Song Yuzhang were together, they always ended up rolling onto the bed.
Rolling onto the bed was fun—but fun alone wasn’t enough.
Meng Tingjing had an idea. He lifted the blanket and got out of bed, pacing the room for a moment before deciding what new items to add.
He strolled out into the dim courtyard. The grass was lush, the sky clear with a few stars. Looking up at the moon, he looked down at the grass and thought: “A rocking chair too.”
Then he thought again: one rocking chair would suffice. Song Yuzhang could sit on his lap.
Moonless night, high wind. Meng Tingjing’s features were sharp and handsome, his thoughts wickedly self-satisfied.
When Song Yuzhang finally arrived at the courtyard, Meng Tingjing initially refused to believe he was real, thinking he’d imagined the scene too vividly. For a moment, he felt embarrassed.
Meng Tingjing raised an eyebrow slightly, concealing his delight in the subtle gesture. “Back again?” His tone was calm, faintly proud, as if annoyed that Song Yuzhang had returned. He reached for Song Yuzhang’s hand. Song Yuzhang paused slightly. “Your hands are like ice.” Without another word, Meng Tingjing pulled him inside.
Inside, it was warm. The electric light was bright, revealing Song Yuzhang’s flushed cheeks. The color wasn’t healthy; it looked almost sickly. Meng Tingjing frowned and reached out, touching his face. “What’s wrong? Your face is ice-cold.”
Meng Tingjing’s hands were warm. As they touched him, Song Yuzhang’s cheeks instantly burned like fever. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and spoke quickly and evenly: “The Nie family’s ore can’t travel by land. There’s a war up north. We need to use your waterways. What’s the cut? How much? Boss Meng, you decide.”
He spoke rapidly, almost abruptly. Meng Tingjing heard it like a gust of wind, and it took two or three minutes for his mind to catch the words and piece them together.
Once assembled, he understood Song Yuzhang’s meaning. Meng Tingjing stared at him for a moment. Song Yuzhang met his gaze calmly, completely unperturbed.
“What did you say?” Meng Tingjing asked quietly. “Say it again. I didn’t catch it.”
----------
If you like my translation, please support me by buying me a coffee:
0 comments: