Song Yuzhang: Chapter 130 - Buyer
Chapter 130: Buyer
On the fifth day of the New Year, Yu Feiyu returned from his hometown. As soon as he got off the carriage, he went straight to the Song residence, bringing many gifts to pay New Year’s greetings.
“They’re all things from home — this dried meat was sun-cured by my father himself, the pig was raised by us too. And these flower teas, I grew and dried them myself. They’re great for the throat…”
Yu Feiyu presented the items one by one to Song Yuzhang, each word he spoke brimming with joy.
Song Yuzhang couldn’t help being infected by his cheerfulness; he smiled and nodded. “Thank you. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything homemade to offer in return.” He patted his own shirt. “Though I suppose I, myself, barely count.”
Yu Feiyu laughed. For someone so exceptionally intelligent, his laughter carried a certain foolish charm.
“These little gifts of mine aren’t worth such a heavy return gift.”
“Then how about a small one?”
Song Yuzhang crooked his finger at him.
A flush immediately spread across Yu Feiyu’s face. He wasn’t someone who blushed easily, yet Song Yuzhang had this uncanny ability — a single smile or gesture could leave him flustered and red-eared.
Song Yuzhang’s lips softly brushed his cheek, leaving behind a faint, foolish smile on Yu Feiyu’s face.
“These past few days apart, I kept thinking of you,” Yu Feiyu said. “And you? Did you think of me?”
His gaze was earnest, burning with longing. Song Yuzhang leaned closer and gently caught his lips. “Of course.”
Yu Feiyu’s head went dizzy; he felt as though the ground had disappeared beneath him. This time, he knew he was truly in love —
Because only love could turn someone like him into a fool.
Song Yuzhang did rather like Yu Feiyu. The happiness Yu Feiyu brought him was light and straightforward — like sugar-coated hawthorn from a street vendor, nothing elaborate, just sweet at first touch, without depth or aftertaste. But that was enough comfort for him right now.
On the sixth day, Xiao Fengxian performed in a grand opera. Song Yuzhang took Yu Feiyu and Song Qiyuan along, sharing a box with Liao Tiandong. Liao Tiandong recognized Yu Feiyu — knew he was an exceptionally sharp man — and greeted him with genuine respect, standing to shake both his hands.
When Yu Feiyu wasn’t around Song Yuzhang, his poise and presence were impressive — not just seemed so, he truly was a worldly, brilliant man. In just a few sentences, he had Liao Tiandong completely captivated.
“So you think our country’s future could surpass the West’s? But we’re far behind them in so many ways…” Liao Tiandong said, unconsciously slipping into his official tone.
Yu Feiyu replied, “What lags behind is only technology. Our wisdom and determination are no less than any Western nation’s.”
Liao Tiandong felt as if he’d met a kindred spirit. He eagerly pulled Yu Feiyu aside to talk about economics and politics.
Song Yuzhang sipped his tea and exchanged a look with Song Qiyuan.
Song Qiyuan caught on and chimed in at the right moment: “Mr. Yu is truly ambitious.”
“Yes,” Liao Tiandong agreed with feeling. “It’s fortunate someone like you came back to serve our country.”
Yu Feiyu said, “We should learn from the foreigners to overcome them. I studied advanced technology to serve the motherland — that’s my duty as a Chinese.”
“It’s just a pity the stage isn’t big enough,” Song Qiyuan remarked. “Mr. Yu, aside from railway construction, you’re mainly working on textile machinery now, aren’t you?”
Yu Feiyu corrected him, “Not merely repairing them — my focus is on improving efficiency and developing better machines.”
“Ah—” Liao Tiandong interjected. “Still, that’s wasting talent. A man like you should be in government!”
“Director Liao flatters me. My father forbade me from entering politics — said I’m not suited for it. He taught me that laborers and farmers are the foundation of our country, and aside from being one of them, I wouldn’t make a good anything else.”
“Mr. Yu is too modest. Being an official isn’t half as hard as your mechanical work,” Liao Tiandong chuckled.
To his surprise, Song Yuzhang realized that Yu Feiyu could handle polite conversation with perfect tact and sincerity — enough to win over a sly old bureaucrat like Liao Tiandong, who now called him “brother” and clung to his hand with enthusiasm.
Even Song Qiyuan hadn’t expected this — Yu Feiyu didn’t just look nothing like a bookish scholar; his conduct was meticulous, leaving no cracks, nothing of the socially inept academic type.
Song Qiyuan nudged Song Yuzhang under the table, glancing toward the two deep in conversation. In a low voice, he asked, “What do we do now?”
Song Yuzhang lifted his teacup to hide his mouth. “Watch the show.”
Xiao Fengxian, ever perceptive, performed with equal charm for everyone. He didn’t throw flirty glances at Song Yuzhang despite their past familiarity. Knowing when to show restraint — that was true tact. Song Yuzhang couldn’t help but think it was no wonder Xiao Fengxian was so beloved at the Little White Tower.
After the opera, they went for tea. Liao Tiandong left early for a dinner engagement.
Song Yuzhang and Song Qiyuan then invited Yu Feiyu to a Western restaurant. Yu Feiyu commented that the food was even better than what he’d had abroad. Still caught up in his earlier discussion with Liao Tiandong, he said, “Foreign Western food is actually quite ordinary. After adapting it to local tastes here, it’s much better.”
“Really?” Song Qiyuan smiled. “That makes sense. You can’t just copy foreign things wholesale — even technology has to be adapted domestically, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, exactly—”
Yu Feiyu suddenly stopped and looked toward Song Yuzhang. “That Meilong Town piece Xiao Fengxian sang earlier — it was so lively and joyful. His performance was charming and spirited.”
He had abruptly changed the subject. Song Yuzhang raised a brow. “Go on with your discussion — I find it rather interesting.”
“Do you?” Yu Feiyu smiled awkwardly. “I was rambling on so much, I worried I might bore you.”
“How could we be? Mr. Yu, insights like yours are priceless — even money couldn’t buy us the chance to hear them.”
Yu Feiyu waved his hand. “I’m no professor, and you’re not my students. Let’s just eat, shall we? Eat.”
After dinner, Song Qiyuan and Song Yuzhang left together. Song Qiyuan frowned and asked, “Do you think he noticed something and deliberately avoided the topic?”
Song Yuzhang tapped his knee thoughtfully. “Hard to say.”
Yu Feiyu was definitely not stupid — far from it. Anyone who could hold his own against an old fox like Liao Tiandong was no fool. A man might be awkward in love, but that didn’t mean he lacked wisdom elsewhere. Wasn’t Meng Tingjing the perfect example of that?
“You were going to use your looks to sway him, weren’t you? Why didn’t you say a word through dinner?”
“When did I ever say that?”
“Didn’t you hint at it last time?”
Song Yuzhang shook his head, smiling as he propped his chin on one hand and looked at his elder brother. “Third Brother, you’re really trying to sell me out for personal gain, aren’t you?”
Song Qiyuan shot back, “Don’t you turn the tables on me.”
Song Yuzhang pressed his lips together, still smiling — enough to make Song Qiyuan blush, as if he’d actually been caught scheming. He stammered, “Since he’s the one pursuing you, whatever you say to him will carry more weight than what I could. I’m not talking about exploiting him, but… if you could whisper a little—” Song Qiyuan caught himself before saying pillow talk and grimaced. “Ah, forget it. I can’t put it right — never mind.”
Song Yuzhang laughed outright at his brother’s embarrassment, giving his leg a friendly slap. “If I were to use my looks as a weapon, and only for something this trivial, that’d be an insult to this face of mine.”
Unable to stand his teasing, Song Qiyuan slapped his leg back — and indeed, found no argument.
For someone like Song Yuzhang — with his looks, his charm, and his refined nature — to resort to seduction merely to recruit talent would indeed be an awful waste. If he were to use that card, it ought to be for… No, Song Qiyuan stopped himself. Thinking further would be selling his brother for gain.
Song Yuzhang, for his part, didn’t think recruiting Yu Feiyu would be difficult. The challenge was making him stay wholeheartedly — and not just for his sake.
Talent that came easily could also leave just as easily. So, he wasn’t in any rush.
Whatever business they had remained business; he still saw Yu Feiyu socially, as usual. Their planned ski trip hadn’t happened — it hadn’t snowed around Haizhou at all. Traveling farther wasn’t convenient for Song Yuzhang either, and he had his own matters to attend to.
On the eighth day of the New Year, Nie Qingyun finally finished all her social obligations and could rest. During the whole holiday, she had been like a busy bee, flitting between gatherings, determined to weave a new network of connections in Haizhou.
In the past, she attended parties purely for fun. But now, with purpose behind every smile, she began to see things differently — some smiles weren’t real smiles, some warmth wasn’t genuine. In society, sincerity was rare, goodwill even rarer. If one wanted something, one had to give something; there was no such thing as a free lunch.
As Nie Qingyun sat on the sofa, massaging her swollen feet from too much dancing, Nie Mao came to report that Song Yuzhang had arrived.
Her feelings toward him had long since softened — perhaps even tinged with guilt. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt it nonetheless.
Nie Qingyun put her feet down and smoothed her skirt. “Show him in.”
When Song Yuzhang entered and saw the dark circles under her eyes, he smiled.
She didn’t know what he was smiling at and nervously checked herself.
“Sister Qingyun, Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.”
She gave a composed nod. “Please, sit.”
He said he was there to pay his New Year’s respects, though he came empty-handed. After a few pleasantries, he said, “You’ve been busy lately, haven’t you, Sister Qingyun?”
She immediately caught the undertone in his voice. Was it concern — or mockery? In just a few days of mingling in social circles, she had already learned the sting of words — both open and veiled. Now, it was as if she wore armor; whoever she faced, she always carried a quiet wariness within.
“Busy, yes. It’s the New Year — so many gatherings.”
“I’ve heard that you’ve been quite the sensation in society these days.”
Nie Qingyun smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t call it that. Just some dancing and polite conversation, that’s all.”
“There’s no need to be modest,” said Yuzhang. “If everyone only wants to dance with you, that’s a skill in itself.”
His tone seemed genuinely complimentary, and she relaxed slightly.
“Actually,” he continued, “you and Yinbing — you handle the outside and the inside, a perfect brother-sister partnership. It’s a pity the Nie family’s in such disorder right now. You’ll need some time to recover. Once things settle down, and you each focus on your strengths, I’m sure the Nie family will flourish again. Don’t you think so, Sister Qingyun?”
She studied him for a moment. Her thoughtful expression sharpened, and she turned to him. “Recover? What do you mean by that?”
Song Yuzhang took a slow sip of tea, fingers brushing the warm porcelain. “The Nie family’s current difficulties come down to two main problems — sabotage at the mining site, and transport troubles. Now, if there happened to be a buyer here in Haizhou — powerful enough to keep those saboteurs in check — wouldn’t that stabilize things considerably?”
“Of course it would,” she said. “But where would we find such a buyer?”
Song Yuzhang’s lips curved slightly, his smile calm and deliberate. “Far away in the heavens, yet right before your eyes.”
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