Song Yuzhang: Chapter 141 - Each Goes Their Own Way
Chapter 141: Each Goes Their Own Way
Familiarity makes things easier; on the second attempt, the two of them went straight to the Meng residence.
Song Jincheng wasn’t there. Song Qiyuan anxiously questioned the gatekeeper, and the gatekeeper answered honestly and with certainty that Song Jincheng had not come.
Only then did true panic hit Song Qiyuan.
“Where could Eldest Brother have gone? All his luggage is still with me!”
“Third Brother, don’t panic. Let’s go to the police station first.”
“Okay… okay…”
Song Qiyuan feared that Song Jincheng, overwhelmed, might do something drastic. Song Yuzhang didn’t share that worry—people who were ruthless in mind were rarely ruthless to themselves; they were ruthless to others. What he worried about more was Meng Sushan.
Song Qiyuan headed toward the police station, while Song Yuzhang said he would find some streetwise fellows to help search. Song Qiyuan quickly agreed. The two split up, and Song Yuzhang immediately went to Shen Chengduo’s small residence.
Shen Chengduo had just climbed out of a new lover’s bed. Still drowsy, he saw Song Yuzhang. After hearing what had happened, he stared blankly at Song Yuzhang’s clean, handsome face for a long moment before finally saying, “Huh?”
Song Yuzhang reached out and slapped his thigh hard. “Awake now?”
The sound was crisp as a slap. Only then did Shen Chengduo fully wake up. He tugged his robe closed, embarrassed by his own chest hair—next to someone as neatly dressed as Song Yuzhang, he suddenly felt shy.
“Who did you say went missing?”
“Song Jincheng.”
Shen Chengduo grabbed a cup of tea and gulped it down. “A big grown man like that…”
“Yes,” Song Yuzhang’s mood was foul, and his expression chilled. “A big grown man has gone missing. Hurry and help me find him.”
Shen Chengduo had never seen Song Yuzhang look so cold and intimidating. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh,” he said meekly, and immediately called his men to go out and search.
After giving orders, Shen Chengduo held his robe closed, twisting twice in the empty living room before suddenly realizing—why was he feeling shy? Chest hair was a symbol of manliness.
Thinking so, he boldly prepared to let his chest loose to the world… but Song Yuzhang was already lifting his rear from the sofa and waving a hand. “I’m leaving. Notify me if you find anything.”
Shen Chengduo’s chest hair fluttered uselessly in mid-air, appreciated by no one.
For three straight days, neither the police nor Shen Chengduo’s men found anything at all. It was as if Song Jincheng had vanished from the earth.
And then, Song Qiyuan finally noticed some clues.
Song Jincheng had secretly liquidated several of the stocks and bonds he held, selling them for a significant amount.
“He has at least a hundred thousand U.S. dollars on him now.” Song Qiyuan was truly panicked this time. One hundred thousand dollars could be used for many things—more than enough for someone to run far, far away. But where would Song Jincheng go? What would he do? He had no idea.
Song Yuzhang sat on the sofa, frowning as he smoked. “Could he… have gone to find Second Brother?”
“No,” Song Qiyuan shook his head firmly. “Those two can’t stand each other right now.”
Song Yuzhang exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “A grown man with money on him won’t get into too much trouble.”
But Song Qiyuan’s heart pounded faster and faster, almost bursting from his chest. He shot to his feet. “No, I can’t just sit here—I must find him!”
Watching him so restless and anxious, Song Yuzhang felt a subtle pang. If he were the one missing… would anyone search for him with such worry and devotion?
He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and stood. “Go back to the police station and ask again, and check with Shen Chengduo’s people too. I’ll go to the Mengs.”
“To the Mengs? But he wasn’t there!”
“Whoever ties the bell must untie it. I’ll ask Sister-in-law—she might know something.”
“I should go,” Song Qiyuan insisted. “You and Meng Tingjing are completely at odds now. Better if I go. At least I haven’t offended him.”
“My relationship with Meng Tingjing doesn’t affect my relationship with Sister-in-law. She’s a wise woman.” Song Yuzhang patted him on the back. “Less talking—we’ll split up. The bank still has mountains of work. Old Liu can’t hold on much longer. Go quickly.”
This time, the Meng family must have received new instructions from above. Song Yuzhang entered without obstruction and soon met Meng Sushan.
It was the first time Song Yuzhang had seen her since New Year’s Eve.
Meng Sushan looked well—she wore an ivory orchid-patterned cheongsam, simple and gentle. When she smiled at him, she was still as dignified and graceful as ever, with a soft, elder-sisterly affection. “Yuzhang, what’s wrong? You look anxious—you’re sweating.”
“Sister-in-law—Sushan,” he corrected himself, “Eldest Brother is missing again.”
She froze. “Jincheng…”
Song Yuzhang recounted everything: how Song Qiyuan had planned to take Song Jincheng abroad, how they arrived at the airport only for him to disappear.
“Sister Sushan, where do you think he might have gone?”
She looked lost. “I don’t know.”
They had been married for more than ten years. Naturally she knew him well—but he had never done anything akin to running away from home, so even she struggled to guess where he might go.
“Alright, Sister Sushan, sorry to trouble you. If you don’t know, I won’t stay. But…” He paused. “You should be careful these next few days. Best not to go out.”
She stiffened slightly, then understood his meaning. She gave a faint, bitter smile. “Yuzhang, you’re overthinking.” Then, with a steadier expression, “Jincheng… he would never hurt me.”
Song Yuzhang looked into her eyes. Her certainty wavered him a little—and made him feel regretful.
A day as husband and wife meant a hundred days of grace. To him, Song Jincheng might be nothing. To Song Qiyuan, he was a brother. To Meng Sushan, he was the man who had shared her pillow for over a decade.
Song Yuzhang stood. “In that case, I’ll go.”
She also rose, her white heels following him two steps. Softly, she said, “I’ll be careful.”
He paused and turned back.
She smiled gently. “I know you mean well. I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”
A breath escaped from his chest.
Toward Meng Sushan, he felt only goodwill and protectiveness. Nothing more. She possessed every feminine quality he admired. He wished her well—no matter what role she played in his life.
“Since you’re already here, stay a bit,” she said. “You look unwell—you must be exhausted from these days. Have some tea before you go.”
“No, there’s still a lot at the bank.”
“There’s always work to do.” She summoned Wan Lan and whispered instructions. Wan Lan nodded and left. Meng Sushan then held his arm gently. “At least wipe your sweat. We haven’t seen each other for so long—I really have missed you.”
Unable to refuse, Song Yuzhang sat.
Seeing his tall, straight posture and the maturity in his expression, she couldn’t help a quiet sigh. She had always regarded him as a younger brother.
“Congratulations on becoming the Chamber of Commerce’s chairman.”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “I was just shoved onto the stage like a duck driven up to a perch.”
“Don’t be modest,” Meng Sushan personally refilled his teacup. “You’re the first person who’s ever pushed Tingjing that far.”
Song Yuzhang lifted his eyes to look at her.
She gave him a gentle smile.
“Tingjing has always been proud and arrogant. I thought he would never, under any circumstance, give up the chamber’s chairmanship. I even wondered at first if he’d yielded because he liked you so much, that he’d willingly backed down for your sake. But later, the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was using retreat as an advance.” Meng Sushan covered her lips with her handkerchief and laughed softly. “He’s grown up all these years, and I’ve never once seen him play this kind of mind game with anyone.”
At first, Song Yuzhang listened with a calm expression, but as she continued, his composure completely slipped away.
In his heart, Meng Sushan was always the ideal image of a refined, gentle elder woman. The entanglements between him and Meng Tingjing—he had accepted them existing privately between the two of them, but hearing her lay everything bare so directly made him feel as if a senior had stumbled upon his private affairs. It was embarrassing in a way he had never experienced.
When Xiao Yingtao was still around, he had been a well-behaved child. After Xiao Yingtao passed, he became rebellious—but even then, no elder had ever stepped in to discipline him.
This truly was the first time in his life he felt like this.
He wanted to defend himself a little, but with Meng Sushan’s intelligence, he figured any defense should stay unsaid. He fell silent and managed a faint, helpless smile.
Seeing the tips of his ears slightly red, Meng Sushan didn’t press further. She simply said gently, “I asked the kitchen to prepare some pastries. Eat a little, and take some with you. You’ve always liked Chef Hu’s work best.”
His embarrassment had already passed; such a feeling was fleeting. Now he only felt numb, and replied calmly with a thank-you.
Not long after, Wan Lan entered—carrying pastries—and behind her was Meng Tingjing.
He had rushed back from the docks, looking slightly travel-worn. The hem of his pale blue robe was creased. Song Yuzhang, who had long grown used to seeing him dressed all in black, found the added bit of color unfamiliar and looked at him twice, guessing he had finally completed the mourning period.
“Elder Sister.”
“You’re back. Just in time—Yuzhang is here. Sit, let’s talk together.”
Meng Sushan invited Meng Tingjing to sit, exchanged a few words, then found an excuse to leave.
Only the two of them remained in the room. Song Yuzhang felt a little exasperated—what exactly was Meng Sushan doing? He wasn’t in the mood to chat with Meng Tingjing anyway, so he simply said, “Song Jincheng has gone missing again. Three days now. We’ve searched everywhere. I’m afraid he might do something to harm Sister Sushan. You should keep an eye on her safety.”
Meng Tingjing’s long brows knit together. “Missing? Missing where?”
“At the airport. Third Brother was sending him to America. He turned around for one moment, and the person was gone. He has money on him—I’m afraid he might do something…”
Song Yuzhang left the sentence unfinished; Meng Tingjing understood immediately. His fingers curled slightly against his knee, and his expression darkened completely. “I’ll send people out to look. You should have told me earlier.”
Song Yuzhang said evenly, “I wasn’t intentionally hiding it. He has nothing to do with the Meng family now. If we could find him ourselves, why trouble you?”
Meng Tingjing shot him a glance and quietly drew a breath. His tone softened slightly. “I’m not blaming you. I mean, if you’d told me earlier, we could have coordinated. Maybe he would’ve been found by now.”
Song Yuzhang said nothing. He pressed a hand to the armrest and stood. “I’ll go. Just be careful.”
“You’re leaving already?” Meng Tingjing stood as well. “You didn’t even touch the pastries Chef Hu just made.”
Song Yuzhang cast him a look and lowered his voice. “About the two of us—stop talking about it in front of Sister Sushan.”
Meng Tingjing lowered his own voice too. “You come and go so often—Elder Sister isn’t stupid. She can see it herself.”
“If she figured it out, she wouldn’t say it. If she’s saying it aloud, that means you gave yourself away somehow.”
Meng Tingjing caught a glimpse of the faint red on Song Yuzhang’s ears. He was startled—he’d known him for almost a year and had never seen him look the slightest bit shy.
“You’re just over twenty, right?” he suddenly asked.
Song Yuzhang frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Is it something you can’t say?”
“There’s nothing I can’t say,” Song Yuzhang replied calmly. “Once my birthday passes this year, I’ll be twenty-one.”
“When’s your birthday?”
Song Yuzhang didn’t answer; he waved a hand instead. “I’m going. Just be careful with Sister Sushan.”
Meng Tingjing watched his retreating back and followed him out.
Outside, Wan Lan was waiting with the food box. Song Yuzhang passed by so quickly she didn’t manage to hand it to him. Meng Tingjing reached out and grabbed the box before she could.
He held it up against Song Yuzhang’s chest. The bright red lacquered box couldn’t hide the fragrance of the pastries inside. Song Yuzhang took it with both hands, hearing Meng Tingjing say, “When it’s your birthday, let me know.”
“…We’ll see.”
He left carrying the box. He really did like Chef Hu’s pastries. As for Meng Tingjing—he truly was an exceptional man, but if they went through another round of torment like before, he really couldn’t endure it again.
Song Jincheng’s sudden disappearance put both the Song and Meng families on alert. The police and various unofficial networks were all mobilized. Yet half a month passed without the slightest trace of him.
It was as if Song Jincheng had evaporated from the world.
Meanwhile, the two people Song Yuzhang had sent off previously each arrived safely at their destinations.
After Yu Feiyu arrived, he first worked with the laborers to set up temporary shelters. Once they were built, he hid inside and wrote his first letter to Song Yuzhang. He wrote it without sending it, knowing there was no spare manpower to deliver letters this time. After finishing, he tucked the letter and the unfinished portrait together for safekeeping, then stepped out into the dust and announced to everyone: “Prepare the explosives. We blast the mountain tomorrow.”
Xiao Fengxian lifted the carriage curtain, swaying with the movement of the wagon. Outside, the spring scenery was at its peak, filled with the scent of grass and trees. He took a deep breath, leaned out toward the city gates, and smiled lightly. Another beautiful year. He was returning to see Master again.
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