Song Yuzhang: Chapter 128 - Hospital
Chapter 128: Hospital
Song Yuzhang immediately stood up. “Gone?”
“Yes,” the servant said. “The nurses said Eldest Young Master had been resting in bed the whole time, but when Third Young Master arrived, somehow he was gone. Third Young Master went out right away to look for him.”
Song Yuzhang frowned slightly, thinking irritably that Meng Tingjing should’ve hit harder that time—broken both of Song Jincheng’s legs, preferably!
He couldn’t care less whether Song Jincheng lived or died, but he did have genuine brotherly affection for Song Qiyuan.
After a brief pause, Song Yuzhang waved his hand. “Find him!”
Song Qiyuan wasn’t hard to locate—he was already out on Huadong Street. When Song Yuzhang arrived, he found him flushed and drenched in sweat from searching.
“Third Brother.”
“Fifth…” Song Qiyuan turned at the sound, reached out to brace himself against him, and said hurriedly, “Why did you come out?”
“I came to help you look.”
Song Qiyuan’s eyes stung. He knew SongYuzhang had no affection whatsoever for their eldest brother—he hadn’t even bothered informing him when Song Jincheng went missing. He hadn’t expected Song Yuzhang to lend a hand.
“No matter how bad he is,” Song Qiyuan said evenly, “he’s still the only brother we have left. Fourth Brother’s gone—I didn’t protect him. I can’t…”
“Enough,” Song Yuzhang interrupted, patting his shoulder. “Let’s just look.”
Given his injuries, Song Jincheng shouldn’t have been able to get far. Yet they scoured every corner near the hospital and found nothing. At this rate, they might not even get to celebrate the new year. Song Yuzhang thought for a moment, suspecting that Song Jincheng might have gone to find Meng Sushan.
“Of course,” Song Qiyuan said suddenly, eyes widening. “He kept insisting he wanted to see Sister-in-law…”
They quickly got into the car, heading toward the Meng residence.
“Don’t panic, Third Brother,” Song Yuzhang said.
Song Qiyuan’s legs were trembling. “He’s still injured—if he angers Meng Tingjing…”
Song Yuzhang pressed his hand down firmly on Song Qiyuan’s thigh. “It’ll be fine. No one’s going to die. Calm down.”
Song Qiyuan stared anxiously out the car window, and when they neared the Meng residence, his eyes lit up. “There! That’s him!”
Song Yuzhang saw him too.
In the winter chill, the hospital’s heating had clearly failed him—Song Jincheng was wearing only a thin hospital gown, barefoot, sitting at the Meng family’s gate. He was pointing at the door, swaying, as if trying to speak.
“Eldest Brother!”
Song Qiyuan ran to him and tried to help him up.
“What are you doing? Get up!”
“I want to see Sushan… Don’t stop me, I have to see her…”
“Eldest Brother, stop this. It’s New Year’s Eve. If you want to see her, wait until you’ve recovered.”
“No!”
Song Jincheng shouted, suddenly mustering enough strength to shove Song Qiyuan to the ground. “I must see her now! If I wait, it’ll be too late! You—” He turned to the Meng family’s guards, gasping for breath. “Go tell her—I… I must see Sushan!”
The guards merely stared at him impassively.
“Sushan!”
Song Jincheng’s voice cracked as he shouted, “Sushan!”
In the car, Song Yuzhang said to the driver, “Go help Third Brother drag him back.”
“Yes, sir.”
With the driver’s help, Song Qiyuan tried again to lift Song Jincheng,
But, he refused, struggling violently until he started coughing up blood, splattering his chest with crimson.
Song Qiyuan could only stare helplessly, not knowing what to do.
From inside the car, Song Yuzhang watched quietly. For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether Song Jincheng truly loved Meng Sushan—or not at all
Tapping his temple with a finger, Song Yuzhang finally got out of the car. Just as he stepped forward, the Meng family’s gate opened from within.
“Sushan—”
Song Jincheng tried to rush forward but collapsed immediately, falling to the ground. Song Qiyuan hurried to support him, glancing warily toward the doorway.
Meng Sushan and Meng Tingjing stepped out together, both dressed for the new year. Though they still wore mourning colors, at least their clothing wasn’t entirely somber.
Song Yuzhang’s eyes flicked briefly toward the red plum blossoms embroidered on Meng Tingjing’s robe, arching an eyebrow.
Meng Tingjing, noticing Song Yuzhang’s snow-white robe also adorned with red plum blossoms, quickly averted his gaze.
Song Yuzhang didn’t look at him again; his eyes turned to Meng Sushan.
Her face was gentle but weary, carrying a quiet sadness.
“Sushan…”
Propped up by Song Qiyuan and the driver, Song Jincheng stood shakily, hastily wiping the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes lit up. “Sushan, I knew you couldn’t be so heartless—the divorce notice in the paper, it wasn’t your idea, was it?”
Meng Sushan said softly, “Jincheng, go back.”
Song Jincheng froze for a moment. “Sushan, I…”
“The divorce was my idea,” she said gently. “Jincheng, please go back, take care of your injuries, don’t wander around.”
Her voice was tender as always, yet that tenderness shattered Song Jincheng completely. He knew, after more than ten years of marriage, that she truly meant to sever everything this time.
“Sushan, I—I don’t understand… I know I was wrong, I promise I’ll never… please forgive me, just this once—for the sake of all our years together, Sushan, I beg you…”
His knees began to buckle as he tried to kneel, but Song Qiyuan pulled him up with all his strength. “Eldest Brother, don’t do this.”
Meng Sushan looked at him deeply. “Jincheng, live well,” she said softly, then turned and went inside.
Song Jincheng stood dazed, motionless, until her figure disappeared completely behind the door. Only then did he seem to realize she was truly gone.
Meng Tingjing also turned to go in. As he stepped through the doorway, he glanced to his right—and saw Meng Sushan standing just beyond the wall, silently weeping.
He walked toward her.
“Weren’t you the one who decided to leave him?”
Tears streamed down Meng Sushan’s cheeks as she shook her head, her tone calm rather than choked. “I’m fine. I just… can’t control myself.”
“He used to be such a good man. I was seventeen, he was twenty. I didn’t have much education or experience, and he was well-read, worldly. He once asked if I knew how to play tennis. I didn’t even know what tennis was. I was too embarrassed to answer. He said it didn’t matter, that he’d teach me. He taught me for three days—I still couldn’t play—but he never once lost patience…”
Meng Tingjing stepped forward and drew her into his arms.
“It’s all over now. If you want to play tennis again, I’ll find someone to teach you.”
Tears soaked through Meng Sushan’s clothes as she whispered, “The moment he taught me, I understood. I just wanted to spend more time with him…”
A dull ache tightened in Meng Tingjing’s chest. He gently stroked her hair. “It’s alright. It’s over now.”
After crying for a while, Meng Sushan gradually calmed down. She pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s the New Year… really, enough of this. Let’s go back inside.”
Meng Tingjing walked a few steps, but the cold night wind brushed through his hair and grazed his cheeks, and suddenly he stopped, turned, and strode back to the gate.
“Second Master,” the Meng family guard greeted quickly as he saw him return.
Outside, the Song family’s car had already left. Only a few dark bloodstains remained on the ground.
Meng Tingjing looked down the long street, where bare trees cast faint shadows. After a long silence, he turned his head and said quietly, “Clean up the entrance.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he turned back, his steps grew slower, his gaze distant, his fingers curling slightly at his side.
“He’s gone?”
Meng Tingjing looked ahead.
Meng Sushan was waiting where she stood, face lowered, pressing her handkerchief to her cheek. Her voice was soft: “Let’s go back.”
Meng Tingjing walked up to her, one deliberate step at a time. “You saw through it?”
Meng Sushan smiled faintly, her tone gentle. “You’re my brother. How could I not?”
Meng Tingjing’s expression cooled. “It’s over for us too.”
“Really?” Meng Sushan asked.
“…”
“If it truly were, you wouldn’t have turned back.”
She sighed softly. “With all I’ve been through, I’m hardly fit to advise you. Tingjing, you’re too proud. I’m proud too—who isn’t? But for his sake, I was willing to play the fool. The trouble is, when you play the fool too long, you become one.” She reached out and lightly brushed his sleeve. “You’re my brother. I know you—unyielding, too proud to bend. A temperament like yours needs someone gentle and compliant. But Fifth Brother isn’t like that.”
“For the two of you, no matter who changes for whom, it would be a pity. Because by then, he wouldn’t be himself, and you wouldn’t be yourself either.”
“So, Tingjing… let go.”
Her voice softened. “Whether you like men or women, finding someone tender and kind isn’t hard. There are those who love each other but don’t suit, and those who suit but don’t love. I wish you could have both—but life rarely grants such fortune. You’re wiser than I am; you’ll understand in time…”
“Do you regret it?” Meng Tingjing suddenly asked, looking straight at her. “Marrying Song Jincheng.”
Meng Sushan’s eyes reddened. She gave a faint, knowing smile. “Tingjing, you know us. We’re not the kind of people who regret.”
Meng Tingjing was silent for a moment, then his face settled into calm. “Let’s celebrate the New Year first,” he said, walking ahead.
Song Qiyuan and Song Yuzhang spent the New Year at the hospital.
Song Jincheng had undergone another surgery. Song Qiyuan stayed out of concern, waiting for him to come out of the operating room. Song Yuzhang said he’d stay too. “It’s boring to be home alone.”
“Hey,” Song Qiyuan clasped his hand, “I feel bad for troubling you.”
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly, resting his head on Song Qiyuan’s shoulder.
“Third Brother.”
“Mm?”
“Do you think Eldest Brother really loves Sister-in-law?”
Song Qiyuan snorted. “Love, my ass. Only people who lose something realize what it meant—but that’s not love, that’s just self-inflicted misery.”
Song Yuzhang burst out laughing.
Song Qiyuan, still fuming, added, “If Sister-in-law forgave him now, he’d be back to his old ways in no time. A dog can’t stop itself from eating shit!”
Song Yuzhang trembled with laughter against his shoulder.
Song Qiyuan frowned. “Stop laughing. We’re outside an operating room—show some respect.”
Song Yuzhang gradually stopped smiling. Inwardly, he thought, He’s right. People don’t change.
He couldn’t stop being sentimental. And Meng Tingjing couldn’t stop being proud.
He’d known from the start that they could never last—that if they tried, they’d destroy each other.
A brief stretch of happiness was enough.
Better to stay as rivals—life and death at odds, just as they were meant to be.
Song Yuzhang rubbed his head lightly against Song Qiyuan’s shoulder. “There’s a full Manchu feast waiting at home.”
“Then go eat. I’ll stay here. Don’t worry about me—there’s staff at home, it’ll still be lively. Have you seen Juan’er? She’s been thinking about you.”
“I have…”
“President!”
A shout came from the hallway. Song Yuzhang turned his head.
Dressed in bright red, Liu Chu came trotting over with a grin, followed at a slower pace by Liu Chuanzong, who gave Song Yuzhang a polite bow.
“We came to pay a New Year’s visit. No one was home, so the porter said you were here. Old Liu made some steamed cakes—eat them and you’ll rise higher every year!”
They brought heaps of food, and only then did Song Yuzhang and Song Qiyuan realize how hungry they were. Song Yuzhang said, “Here’s what we’ll do—I’ll have the servants bring all the dishes from home. We’ll celebrate New Year’s Eve right here. Liu Chu, Old Liu, stay if you like—or go if you must.”
“I’m staying! I’m sick of all the New Year’s food at home!” Liu Chu shouted.
If Liu Chu stayed, Liu Chuanzong naturally couldn’t leave either. The room soon filled with noise and warmth again.
Song Yuzhang quickly sent the driver home to fetch the food. As the driver turned the corner, Song Yuzhang caught a glimpse of a tall figure at the end of the corridor. He hesitated, turned back, and called softly— “Yinbing?”
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