Song Yuzhang: Chapter 145 - Spring Breeze
Chapter 145: Spring Breeze
As soon as Zhang Changshan left, Liao Tiandong immediately invited Song Yuzhang to another meal, complaining that waiting on Zhang Changshan had left him tense and on edge. Song Yuzhang understood the hint; after the meal, he added a check, and Liao Tiandong’s mood instantly brightened. “Chairman Song, I didn’t misjudge you—you’re no ordinary man.”
Song Yuzhang responded modestly to the praise. “I still have to thank Director Liao for pointing the way.”
Liao Tiandong laughed. “I’m more than happy to make introductions for you. You won’t let me take a loss—I know that much.”
It wasn’t just Liao Tiandong who knew what kind of person Song Yuzhang was; the people of the Haizhou Chamber of Commerce knew it too. This time, the higher authorities waived one-third of Haizhou’s grain requisition, yet Song Yuzhang still contributed the original one-fifth as before. The pressure on those below immediately eased. They raised funds according to the original quota, and as a result, the matter passed smoothly and steadily—easier than in previous years.
The few who had stirred up trouble earlier gained tangible benefits. They were pleased, yet also uneasy, fearing that Song Yuzhang was merely baiting them—willingly taking the hook—and that once the Meng faction was toppled, he would settle scores afterward. So they accepted the benefits while remaining on guard.
More importantly, their leader stayed silent, and with him not making a move, they could only wait. In any case, no one dared ask Meng Tingjing what the next step should be.
These past two days, Meng Tingjing had been running hot—mouth sores flaring up, appetite gone, barely able to eat.
Setting up an arms factory… it was far too dangerous!
Meng Tingjing was furious to the point of madness, yet he couldn’t persuade him. Given his current relationship with Song Yuzhang, the moment he tried to advise him, Song Yuzhang wouldn’t listen—and might even end up arguing with him again.
With nowhere to vent his anger, the internal heat only worsened. He went straight to Meng Sushan’s courtyard and said vaguely, “Have him come over for a meal.”
Meng Sushan was selecting pearls from a box, choosing a pair of earrings for Wan Lan. Hearing this, she smiled. “Who should I invite?”
Meng Tingjing looked speechless.
Meng Sushan chuckled. “Fine, I’ll have Wan Lan go invite him, all right?”
Meng Tingjing’s expression softened; he nodded slightly. “Thank you, elder sister.”
He turned to leave, then paused and turned back. “I thought you didn’t want me spending time with him.”
Meng Sushan smiled, lowering her head as she continued picking pearls. “What does it matter whether I want it or not? I already explained things clearly to you, and you still wouldn’t let go. All I can do is help you. But in the end—” She looked up at him teasingly. “It still depends on whether Fifth Brother is willing.”
Meng Tingjing was struck at a sore spot. He didn’t lash out, only pointed at the pearl box; his sleeve brushed over the milky-white pearls. “Forget the pearls. I’ll give you a few diamonds instead.”
Wan Lan hurriedly said, “Second Master, these aren’t for Miss to wear herself—she’s picking them for me.”
“It’s all the same,” Meng Tingjing said, withdrawing his hand. “I’ll have someone deliver them later. You each make a pair.”
Watching Meng Tingjing leave, Wan Lan crouched and tugged at Meng Sushan’s sleeve. “Second Master’s temper seems a bit better than before.”
Meng Sushan smiled gently and continued sorting the pearls. “Temperament is like these pearls—it all needs polishing… This one has a hint of pink; it’ll be just right embroidered on your new cheongsam.”
Inside the bank, Song Yuzhang and Song Qiyuan sat opposite each other on the sofa.
“You really have to go?”
Song Qiyuan nodded slowly.
Song Yuzhang exhaled softly. “The factory site has already been decided. Construction will start before long.”
Song Qiyuan’s expression was calm. “Old Liu can oversee it. Handing it to the Nie family would work too.”
Song Yuzhang studied Song Qiyuan’s profile. “If you go searching like this—like a headless fly—you’ll waste effort, and you might not even find him.”
“I’ll try,” Song Qiyuan said. “I want to see Second Brother first, then look around elsewhere. Brothers have their ties—maybe I really will find him.”
Song Yuzhang looked at him in silence.
Song Qiyuan lowered his head slightly. “The bank is stable now. The grain requisition is over. Even if the people in the chamber resent you, they’ll still show you some respect on the surface. As for the factory, I can’t help much. I’ll leave you a few stocks—don’t sell them. I figure they’ll keep rising over the next few years…”
“Third Brother,” Song Yuzhang interrupted him. “Are you planning to leave and never come back?”
Song Qiyuan fell silent. After a while, he let out a breath and said softly, “Maybe.”
Song Yuzhang had a thousand words he could use to keep him—if not forever, then at least for a while. Song Qiyuan wasn’t ruthless enough; if he kept him, he’d always have ways to bind him again. But… why?
Song Zhenqiao was an old bastard who shed his skin like a cicada and left him carrying three hundred million in debt. But Song Yuzhang wasn’t some innocent saint either. If he capsized in a gutter, he had only himself to blame. He no longer held any particular resentment over it.
The Song family—however one ranked closeness or distance—were, in truth, all irrelevant to him.
Song Qiyuan had given money, done the work, spent more than half a year by his side, and committed not a single fault.
He was the last good seedling the Song family had left. Was he really going to clutch him tightly and choke him for an entire lifetime?
Song Yuzhang thought of Liu Chuanzong. Talented people couldn’t be kept. Force them to stay, and staying only bred enmity. Between him and Song Qiyuan—even if they weren’t blood brothers—there was still some measure of affection.
“All right,” Song Yuzhang said in a low voice. “Take more money with you. It’s chaotic out there right now—flying is safer. I’ll have Liao Tiandong keep an eye out; there are plenty of military flights to Nancheng. Take a plane.”
Song Qiyuan’s breath caught. He reached out and pressed his hand on Song Yuzhang’s knee. “Thank you.”
“You can handle things on your own now; you don’t need my help. The bank has long since become yours anyway… I don’t mean anything else by this. Since I’m leaving, I’m just speaking from the heart—not trying to glorify myself. Money, power, and status are good things, but they’re not what I want. As long as my brothers are alive, everyone can have food to eat, and in spare moments do what they like…”
Song Qiyuan smiled—a little bitter, but also a little relieved. “After thinking it through, I guess I’m just not very ambitious.”
“Everyone has their own aspirations—no rank of big or small,” Song Yuzhang said.
Song Qiyuan’s hand rested on Song Yuzhang’s knee. Lowering his head, he suddenly felt a twinge of shame.
Song Yuzhang was very good—but in the end, he wasn’t his real brother.
For his true brothers, he could sacrifice principles and freedom. For Song Yuzhang, at this point, he felt he couldn’t give any more.
Emotions surged in Song Qiyuan’s chest. Suddenly, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Song Yuzhang’s shoulders.
Song Yuzhang leaned back slightly against the sofa and returned the embrace.
Human warmth was always comforting. Song Yuzhang breathed in the scent of Song Qiyuan’s cologne. “Third Brother, you look better with curly hair.”
Song Qiyuan laughed. “Bastard—why don’t you get yours permed too?”
Song Yuzhang hugged him tighter, his arm brushing once across his back. “Come back to see me when you have time.”
Song Qiyuan’s nose burned. “I will.”
For Song Yuzhang, the ache of parting was something he had not felt in a long time. He suddenly thought of Chun Xing and wondered what kind of life the little girl was living now—perhaps she already had a child of her own.
All of a sudden, Song Yuzhang longed for a family member: someone bound to him by blood, someone no hardship or danger could ever sever from him.
A child? He shook his head inwardly. He truly could not muster any interest in women. Perhaps he could force himself if he tried, but to deliberately ruin a young woman just to have a child held little appeal. He wanted love, not resentment. He himself had grown up without a father—if he were to bring another child into the world without a mother, that would be inviting retribution upon himself.
It seemed that in this lifetime, he would never have any true family of his own. With that melancholy in his heart, he readily accepted when Wan Lan came to deliver Meng Sushan’s invitation.
If he could have a sister like Meng Sushan, he really would be content.
At five in the afternoon, Song Yuzhang got off work at the bank. At the back door, he and Song Qiyuan hugged and tugged at each other for quite some time. Song Qiyuan was a sentimental young master; Song Yuzhang, however, had already returned to his usual composure. Amid Song Qiyuan’s sighing, lingering embrace, Song Yuzhang gave him a firm pat on the backside. “If you really can’t bear to leave, then sleep with me for one night before you go.”
Song Qiyuan left immediately.
Song Yuzhang laughed as he got into the car—he hadn’t truly meant to sleep with him anyway.
Bored in the car, Song Yuzhang even asked the driver for some candy.
Song Qiyuan was right: now, Song Yuzhang didn’t really need anyone’s help anymore. The hardest part was getting started; now everything was on track. All he had to do was wait to reap the rewards. Money had a kind of magic—once you had enough of it, it would generate more on its own. And he was skilled at making money, so it came naturally, a steady, endless stream of wealth.
Song Yuzhang was always busy. Even when his body rested, his mind never stopped turning. It was only now, in this rare moment of idleness, that he realized he was at the height of his springtime success.
Outside the window, green willows and red blossoms painted a pleasant scene. Song Yuzhang rolled the window down, feeling the warm spring breeze on his face. A faint smile touched his lips—then quickly faded.
He seemed to be the sort of person plagued by bad luck.
Whenever he felt good about himself, it was as though Heaven took offense and insisted on making him stumble.
Recalling past experiences, Song Yuzhang remained wary even in comfort. Candy in his mouth, he sat upright and stopped smiling.
He always held a fondness for the Meng family’s cooking—and likewise for Meng Sushan and Wan Lan. As for Meng Tingjing, who appeared at the table without notice, Song Yuzhang could simply ignore him.
“Yuzhang,” Meng Sushan said in surprise the moment she saw him, “don’t you look thinner?”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “No, I haven’t lost weight.”
“How could you not have?” Meng Tingjing interjected. “Your waist is slimmer by a full inch.”
Song Yuzhang’s clothes were impeccably tailored, fitting him perfectly. If his waist had thinned even a little, the difference would show—but only to a careful eye.
Song Yuzhang glanced at Meng Tingjing and smiled faintly. “That’s really not the case. My tailor just cuts clothes well—it makes the waist look slim.”
Meng Tingjing said nothing more, his lips pressed into a straight line.
Meng Sushan served Song Yuzhang some food and asked calmly, almost casually, “Any news about Jincheng?”
“No. Third Brother plans to go look for him.”
“I see…” Meng Sushan nodded. “Let’s just hope everyone stays safe.”
“Yes. If everyone is safe, that’s the best outcome.”
At the table, Meng Tingjing restrained himself again and again, barely speaking a word. When the meal finally ended, he put down his chopsticks, about to speak—only for Song Yuzhang to wipe his mouth and rise to take his leave.
“Don’t go,” Meng Sushan said with a smile. “I’ve spent all day picking pearls, my eyes are spinning. I want to make a pair of earrings for Wan Lan—come help me choose.”
Meng Tingjing already had his hands on the table, ready to stand and stop him. Hearing this, he settled back down.
“Oh?” Song Yuzhang said.
Meng Sushan nodded with a gentle smile. “Wan Lan’s birthday is coming up.”
“Then I should prepare a gift as well,” Song Yuzhang said. “Since there’ll be earrings, how about I choose a diamond necklace for her too?”
As soon as he finished speaking, Meng Tingjing—sitting diagonally opposite—suddenly smiled. It was a smile so fresh and pleasant that it made Song Yuzhang wonder if he had said something wrong.
At that moment, a servant entered quietly and said softly, “Fifth Young Master, someone is here to see you.”
Ignoring Meng Tingjing, who was still smiling, Song Yuzhang gave Meng Sushan a slight nod and followed the servant out.
The visitor was Nie Mao. The moment Song Yuzhang saw him, he had a bad feeling. “Has something happened?”
Nie Mao gave him a bitter smile. “The young master fainted. He’s in the hospital. You’ve always been fond of him, so I took it upon myself to come and inform you.”
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