Song Yuzhang: Chapter 144 - The Matter is Settled
Chapter 144: The Matter is Settled
For several days in a row, Song Yuzhang did no “real work” at all. His only real task now was one thing: accompanying Director Zhang.
Director Zhang was an extremely difficult guest to serve. He would turn hostile without warning. As a seasoned con artist, Song Yuzhang had his own methods for dealing with troublesome people. He knew very well that Zhang Changshan was merely testing his patience and loyalty. All he needed to do was display obedience as fully as possible. For a man to accomplish great things, enduring a bit of verbal humiliation and loss of face was nothing worth mentioning in Song Yuzhang’s eyes. Zhang Changshan was a smart man, and in front of smart people, it was best to appear a little foolish—that made one more likable.
Compared with Song Yuzhang, the taciturn Nie Yinbing clearly gained Zhang Changshan’s trust more quickly.
Whenever Zhang Changshan spoke with Nie Yinbing, he could not go three sentences without mentioning his younger brother, which made Song Yuzhang very curious as to whether Zhang Changyuan was exceptionally handsome and lovable.
Nie Yinbing said, “He looks a bit like his older brother.” He traced a line near his upper lip. “He keeps a little mustache here.”
Song Yuzhang truly found it hard to imagine someone with such an image being the “adorable little fluffball” Zhang Changshan always talked about.
A fluffball? Did that mean the mustache?
After several days of thunderous, rain-soaked testing, Zhang Changshan finally concluded that this handsome young man was indeed someone with potential.
A person, of course, had to be capable—but someone who was too capable, too proud, too ambitious, was also no good. Such people would be hard to control in the future.
An arm factory was no small matter. With guns and artillery in hand, what if it bred a little warlord who rebelled? That would be real trouble.
Seeing that Song Yuzhang was refined and gentlemanly, full of the mild elegance of a pampered young master, Zhang Changshan judged that he merely wanted to make money—something Zhang Changshan could easily provide.
The moment Zhang Changshan’s attitude shifted, Song Yuzhang noticed. When he went to see him again that very day, he brought along a small case. Half of it was filled with U.S. dollars, the other half with gold bars.
Zhang Changshan accepted it.
This was an extremely favorable sign. Song Yuzhang immediately redoubled his efforts in playing along. After accepting the money, Zhang Changshan secretly began to regard Song Yuzhang as one of his own people. Toward his own people, he was far more casual—so casual that he even began considering whether to sleep with Song Yuzhang.
Emotionally speaking, Zhang Changshan very much wanted to sleep with him.
Zhang Changshan adored beautiful men and was remarkably indiscriminate—he appreciated all types. Someone like Song Yuzhang, tall, upright, handsome, and dashing, was exactly his type. One of his trusted subordinates was of a similar sort and was extremely enthusiastic in bed.
But from a practical standpoint, Zhang Changshan felt that sleeping with Song Yuzhang would be too reckless.
The chairman of the Haizhou Chamber of Commerce.
With that status, he could force the matter if he wanted—but the aftermath would be troublesome.
Although Zhang Changshan was often vicious and ruthless by nature, he had a clear sense of self-awareness. At his age and with his looks, he knew he held no real attraction for beautiful men. They either sought an exchange of benefits or were compelled by sheer power.
Zhang Changshan did not mind that. As long as his desires were satisfied, that was enough. Nearing fifty, he had no interest in playing at romance with young beauties.
Song Yuzhang, of course, also wanted something from him—but Song Yuzhang was not trading his body. To sleep with him would lack justification and might create endless trouble afterward.
And yet, a beauty like Song Yuzhang—Zhang Changshan admitted to himself—he had only ever seen one in his lifetime. To not sleep with him felt like a waste.
Just as Zhang Changshan was hesitating, Song Yuzhang invited him to one of Shen Chengduo’s small villas.
“Boss Shen is a good friend of mine,” Song Yuzhang said. “He’s very interesting—perhaps you’ll get along well.”
With his hands clasped behind his back, Zhang Changshan smiled reservedly, that reserve tinged with a faint, lurking lewdness. Nie Yinbing was not present today; his brother’s classmate was absent, and Zhang Changshan’s thoughts grew ever more unrestrained. “Is that so?” He glanced at Song Yuzhang and smiled lightly. “If he’s as good-looking as you, Xiao Song, then we’ll surely get along.”
Song Yuzhang smiled, extending his arm forward to deflect the remark. “Please, go inside.”
Shen Chengduo had been waiting for some time. The moment Zhang Changshan entered, he greeted him enthusiastically. “Director Zhang, I’ve long admired you—”
Seeing a rough, bandit-faced brute, Zhang Changshan’s expression instantly cooled. After exchanging a few perfunctory pleasantries, Shen Chengduo waved his hand and called for tea.
The one who served the tea was a slender, beautiful youth. Kneeling on both knees, he brewed the tea for Zhang Changshan, lifting a jade-colored teacup with soft hands and presenting it. His large eyes were watery and bright, his voice delicate and tender. “Director Zhang, please have some tea.”
Zhang Changshan did not take the cup. Instead, he looked at Shen Chengduo. Shen Chengduo’s face was full of smiles, and in that instant, Zhang Changshan understood.
The three went upstairs to play mahjong—three players missing one. Shen Chengduo called in another clean-cut, handsome young man to join them. He had a scholarly air about him, a slim waist, straight posture. When his fingers placed the mahjong tiles on the table, one could hardly tell whether his hands were whiter or the tiles themselves.
After two rounds, Song Yuzhang excused himself and went downstairs. Shen Chengduo called in yet another young man to fill the seat—also tall and handsome, smiling pleasantly.
As Zhang Changshan handled the tiles, one slipped from his grasp. The youth beside him hurried to pick it up, handing it back; fingers brushed, eyes met, both making contact with Zhang Changshan at once.
Rolling the tile between his fingers, Zhang Changshan smiled faintly at Shen Chengduo. “What does this mean?”
Shen Chengduo looked confused. “Huh?”
Zhang Changshan’s expression darkened. With a loud crash, he flipped the mahjong table.
Downstairs, Song Yuzhang was smoking. Hearing the commotion, he immediately moved closer to the stairs, then steadied himself. No rush—wait a bit longer.
Upstairs, Shen Chengduo was startled at first, then began cursing the two handsome youths, slapping the one who had been flirting with Zhang Changshan while shouting for people to drag them away. The two who came thundering up to haul them off were themselves handsome young men.
At that moment, Zhang Changshan suddenly grabbed the youth who had just been slapped, like an eagle snatching a chick. He yanked the young man by the arm and pulled him down onto his thigh, looking sternly at Shen Chengduo. “Everything was going fine—why hit people?”
Hearing that things upstairs no longer sounded violent, Song Yuzhang stepped back down from the stairs. After finishing two or three cigarettes, Shen Chengduo finally came down.
“How did it go?” Song Yuzhang asked.
Shen Chengduo looked tense, holding himself stiffly for a moment before breaking into a grin. “They’ve already gotten down to it.”
Song Yuzhang patted Shen Chengduo on the shoulder. “Well done.”
“The old bastard really knows how to put on an act. Damn it—I prepared two, and he kept all four.”
“If he wants them, give them to him.”
“Of course. I’ve never lacked people here anyway—they’re all eager to climb higher and happy to oblige.”
“That’s good, then. This sort of thing should be based on mutual consent.”
“Consensual—very much so. They’re all scrambling to serve him. How many times in a lifetime do they get to meet a figure of that stature?”
“A big figure…” Song Yuzhang smiled around his cigarette. “All the more reason to curry favor.”
Shen Chengduo’s residence could be called a nest of beautiful men—even the ones sweeping the floors had clean, delicate features. Downstairs, Shen Chengduo stayed with Song Yuzhang, chatting and egging him on to pick someone to have fun with as well. After all, “idle is idle.”
Song Yuzhang shook his head, a lighter in his hand, clicking it open and shut.
“I’m not idle. I’m waiting.”
“He won’t be done that soon. I can tell—his body’s old, but his heart isn’t. That look in his eyes is fierce.”
Song Yuzhang ignored him.
With one hand pressed against the sofa, Shen Chengduo suddenly said, “Do you think it’s dirty? I’ve got some here who are untouched.”
Song Yuzhang glanced at him, the corner of his eye lifting slightly. “Dirty? If sleeping with someone is dirty, then you and I aren’t exactly clean either.”
“That’s different—what we do is…” Shen Chengduo remembered that Song Yuzhang seemed to prefer men with a rough, masculine air, hesitated, and couldn’t finish the sentence.
Leaning back, Song Yuzhang propped his legs on the coffee table. “Dirty or clean—everyone has their own scale in their heart. You think you’re clean, but maybe…” He turned his face and smiled at Shen Chengduo. “In their eyes, people like us are the dirtiest of all.”
Shen Chengduo was momentarily speechless. Seeing the sharp, detached expression on Song Yuzhang’s face, something inside him immediately felt restless.
No wonder Zhang Changshan coveted him. A man like Song Yuzhang—status, power, looks, temperament—sleeping with him once would be more exhilarating than sleeping with others countless times. Too bad he couldn’t get a taste.
And the rarest thing of all was precisely that bite one couldn’t get.
Shen Chengduo even felt a trace of resentment toward Song Yuzhang.
Someone so formidable—why did he also have to be so good-looking? Wasn’t that just tormenting people, letting them see but not touch?
Even four beautiful men failed to satisfy Zhang Changshan. The delicate youth who had poured tea went up again with another beautiful boy, and only then did Zhang Changshan’s rampant lust finally find release.
After this gathering, Zhang Changshan concluded that Song Yuzhang was not only clever but also knew how to read the situation and adapt—not some stubborn, hidebound fool. Such a person met his requirements perfectly. Liao Tiandong had been right: this was someone worth working with.
Having made up his mind, Zhang Changshan stopped relentlessly testing Song Yuzhang. He hit it off immediately with Shen Chengduo, Haizhou’s locally produced lecher, and spent all his time chasing pleasures.
At last, Song Yuzhang could relax. Over the past few days, he had lost a pound a day. It didn’t show much on his face—when he lost weight, it went first from his waist; even his trousers were starting to feel loose.
While he was at home drinking broth to nourish himself, a servant came in with a message.
“Second Master Meng invites you to the docks.”
Going to the docks meant business.
Song Yuzhang went upstairs to change.
Spring had arrived, but he was lazy and unwilling to spend much effort on his appearance. He grabbed a dark gray suit and headed out—there was no need to dress up to see Meng Tingjing anyway.
The docks in spring were far livelier than in winter. Snow-white waterbirds perched calmly along the embankment. Following directions, Song Yuzhang arrived before a warehouse. He hesitated slightly. “Your boss wants to talk business with me here?”
“The proprietor is inside.”
The man stepped forward and pulled open the warehouse doors. With a heavy creak, they swung open, and Song Yuzhang walked in.
Even in broad daylight, the warehouse was dim, light filtering only through high windows. Meng Tingjing stood in the open space with his back to him, dressed in a pale, moon-white robe.
As Song Yuzhang was considering how best to address him, Meng Tingjing turned around, his gaze settling evenly on Song Yuzhang. “You’re here.”
“What did you want to see me for?” Song Yuzhang dispensed with titles altogether.
“Come here.”
Hands in his pockets, Song Yuzhang tilted his head slightly, blinked slowly twice, pressed his lips together, and walked over. Only after stopping beside Meng Tingjing did he ask, “What is it?”
Meng Tingjing flicked his sleeve, and a short dagger slid out into his hand.
Song Yuzhang’s expression shifted; his brow furrowed. “What are you doing? Another blood oath? No need—say what you want to say.”
Meng Tingjing ignored him, drew the blade, and stabbed it into a sack beside them.
“Sha—”
The contents of the sack spilled out in a rush, quickly piling into a small mound of dark yellow at Song Yuzhang’s feet.
“There are twenty thousand jin of grain here,” Meng Tingjing said coolly. “Take it and advance half to them.”
The rice poured out just enough to expose an edge, then stopped, only a grain or two dropping by Song Yuzhang’s shoes. He lowered his head and stared at the rice. “What is this supposed to mean?”
“Advance half to them, and they’ll truly submit to you. Winning hearts—don’t tell me you don’t understand.”
Song Yuzhang was silent for a moment. “So this is you buying me off?”
Meng Tingjing gripped the dagger’s hilt. Anger flared in his heart; his expression had already darkened, but the warehouse was dim enough that it didn’t show. His tone remained steady. “Can’t I show you a bit of goodwill?”
Song Yuzhang smiled softly; the sound echoed faintly in the warehouse. He lifted his face and looked at Meng Tingjing in the low light. Meng Tingjing’s expression was not good. “I believe that at this moment, your feelings toward me are indeed goodwill. But I don’t know when you’ll take it back—and turn to hating me to the bone again… Shh—” Song Yuzhang cut off Meng Tingjing as he tried to speak, his expression earnest. “Tingjing, I don’t have the confidence to give you what you want. And you’re not someone who’s willing to make a losing deal. So your goodwill—I don’t want it.”
He turned his back on him. “I’ve already persuaded Director Zhang to report the construction of an arm factory in Haizhou. In return for full support of military production, he’s agreed to reduce this year’s grain levy in Haizhou by one third. Tingjing, thank you. I can take care of myself—so you should take care of yourself too.”
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