Song Yuzhang: Chapter 149 - Walden
Chapter 149: Walden
Song Yuzhang sat on the bed reading.
Meng Tingjing was wearing his pajamas. They were all loose-fitting, and Meng Tingjing’s build fit them just fine. He sat by Song Yuzhang’s bed and launched into a long, uninterrupted monologue, laying out in meticulous detail the tangled web of interests between the major existing arm factories and the upper echelons.
Song Yuzhang gave him a bored glance. “Are you done?”
Meng Tingjing said, “You still think I’m just making excuses for myself?”
Song Yuzhang closed his book and turned to face him. “Fine, let’s say you’re helping me shoulder my worries. But did I ask you to?”
Meng Tingjing said, “All right, then let’s say I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Good that you admit it.” Song Yuzhang turned away again and reopened his book.
Sitting at the head of the bed, Meng Tingjing couldn’t help saying, “Then do you at least admit I meant well?”
“So what if you did?” Song Yuzhang snapped the book shut with a slap. “Just because you mean well, I have to accept it?”
“I’m not opposing you, nor am I trying to control you. I just want to protect you. Where exactly is that wrong? — I’m asking sincerely, not trying to argue. Please don’t get worked up,” Meng Tingjing said calmly.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly. “Actually, dock business is pretty risky too. In Haizhou, your Meng family has the only dock—so many eyes are fixed on it, and there’s been no shortage of accidents. How about this: I’ll help you shoulder some of that risk as well?”
Meng Tingjing stared at him. “If I agreed, would you stop being angry with me?”
Song Yuzhang said, “The way you’re putting it makes it sound like I’m coveting your dock business.”
“Didn’t you just think I was coveting your arm factory business?”
“I didn’t say that. I know the Meng family has vast assets—you wouldn’t care about it.”
“I meant I don’t lack an arm factory, not that I look down on it.”
Song Yuzhang turned his face away and opened the book again. “Save your breath. Look at you, gritting your teeth—must be exhausting to talk. Half an hour left. When time’s up, get lost.”
Meng Tingjing really was grinding his teeth now. As he spoke, he couldn’t help getting heated. In truth, his temper had improved a lot lately; it was just that whatever Song Yuzhang casually said or did always made him lose control a little.
Especially when Song Yuzhang misunderstood his good intentions—he found that particularly unbearable.
But everything had its causes and effects. There had once been a chance for him to soften Song Yuzhang’s heart; he simply hadn’t been able to keep his composure and had missed it.
It was as if Song Yuzhang were his destined nemesis. Whenever he encountered him, he sometimes became unlike himself—unable to help swinging wildly between excitement, anger, resentment, joy, pain, sorrow… Meng Sushan said that was a pity, but he felt that such profound emotions could only be brought out by Song Yuzhang, and that they were all precious.
And this so-called “not being himself”—wasn’t it simply another self?
Perhaps that self was the real one, one that existed only for Song Yuzhang.
While Meng Tingjing was off on his own path of realization, Song Yuzhang suddenly found he couldn’t read anymore. He tossed the book to Meng Tingjing. “Read to me. I want to sleep.”
Meng Tingjing picked up the book and glanced at the cover. “Madame Bovary? Can you really sleep well after listening to this? On such a joyful birthday, you should read something that puts you in a pleasant mood.”
Song Yuzhang lay back on the bed, propping his cheek with one hand, watching Meng Tingjing take it upon himself to browse the bookcase, half amused and half exasperated.
It really was Meng Tingjing’s style.
No matter what you wanted, he insisted on imposing his own will on you.
Meng Tingjing chose quite seriously. After three to five minutes, he came back holding a thin book. It was in English—Song Yuzhang couldn’t even make out the words on the cover.
“Walden,” Meng Tingjing said as he sat down. He crossed one leg over the other. In the dim yellow lamplight, his face was like fine jade; his expression carried its usual natural arrogance. Even when reading aloud to someone, he bore an air of condescension. “How about the ‘Spring’ chapter?”
Song Yuzhang adopted an “I’ll go with the flow” attitude, placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes lightly. “I’ve never read it. Whatever you like.”
When Meng Tingjing read English aloud, his voice was unexpectedly gentle and pleasant, with a particularly distinctive cadence. Song Yuzhang understood virtually none of it, but that didn’t stop it from sounding soothing and agreeable. He really did begin to drift into a sweet drowsiness.
“You can’t understand it, can you?”
Half-dreaming, Song Yuzhang suddenly heard Meng Tingjing’s calm voice.
“I forgot—you haven’t studied English for long. Should I translate it and then read it to you?”
Song Yuzhang opened his eyes and looked at Meng Tingjing with a faint, ambiguous smile, speaking softly: “Get lost.”
Annoyance flared in Meng Tingjing’s heart. What exactly had he said wrong this time?!
But on second thought, Song Yuzhang was always such a paragon of elegance—throwing a punch at him one moment, telling him to get lost the next. Wasn’t that, in its own way, something special?
Song Yuzhang was special to him like this; perhaps he wasn’t without a special place in Song Yuzhang’s heart either.
Meng Tingjing’s anger turned into delight, and his voice softened. “If you don’t understand it, just say so. Don’t pretend otherwise. I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“If I tell you to get lost, then get lost. Don’t linger here. I’m not joking with you.”
“Then get out of bed and chase me away.”
Song Yuzhang had no reply. He pulled the blanket up over his face, turned around, and faced away from the edge of the bed.
Before long, a voice rose again—not loud, not soft—still a deep, magnetic English sentence, followed by a beautiful, resonant Chinese one.
With his eyes closed, Song Yuzhang thought, Is Meng Tingjing giving me an English lesson now?
Obnoxious bastard. Annoying creature. Moody lunatic. Madman who can’t understand human speech… Song Yuzhang silently cursed him, yet gradually, sleep reclaimed him.
Meng Tingjing closed the book, set it on the table, and gently pulled the blanket down.
Song Yuzhang was asleep now, his eyelashes resting lightly, sleeping like a painting.
Meng Tingjing gazed at that painting for a long time, sighed softly in his heart, and thought: Live—live on like this, so beautifully.
When Song Yuzhang woke up, Meng Tingjing was already gone. A velvet box lay pressed atop Walden on the bedside table. Song Yuzhang sat up, opened the velvet box, and glanced again at the enormous jade stone inside. He thought to himself that he had no idea how much it was worth. Closing the box and setting it aside, he picked up the book and flipped through a few pages, then immediately shut it again.
It was far too difficult—he couldn’t understand a thing!
Later, in the chairman’s office of the Chamber of Commerce, Song Yuzhang calmly discussed the matter of the arm factory with Meng Tingjing.
“The written order—let me have a look.”
Meng Tingjing set the written order down on the desk.
Black characters on white paper, a red official seal—its rank was high. No wonder Zhang Changshan hadn’t uttered a single word of objection, nor even given him advance notice. But then again, it was he who had gone begging Zhang Changshan—why would Zhang Changshan need to notify him at all?
“How did you get this?” Song Yuzhang handed the order back to him.
“However, you persuaded Zhang Changshan, that’s how I did it. These people are all driven by wine, women, money, and power,” Meng Tingjing said with a trace of disgust in his expression. “And the fate of the nation is in the hands of such parasites!”
“You’d better watch your mouth—be careful with what you say,” Song Yuzhang replied.
Meng Tingjing shot him a glance. “In front of you, can’t I even say a few words from the heart?”
“Careful, or I’ll go lodge a complaint with the authorities,” Song Yuzhang lifted his eyes, smiling without quite smiling. “Then you’ll really be in trouble.”
Meng Tingjing smiled faintly. “Go ahead. Try.”
“You think I wouldn’t dare?”
“I know you would,” Meng Tingjing said. “But you won’t. And I’m not afraid anyway.”
Song Yuzhang suddenly smiled. “If you love me, why don’t you say something nice once in a while?”
Meng Tingjing’s expression changed. “Is that something you can joke about?”
“If you don’t like it, then get lost.”
“Didn’t you say public matters are public, private matters are private? We’re talking about official business now—why bring this up?”
“Before criticizing others, look at yourself first. Meng Tingjing, when have you ever truly kept public and private separate?”
“I’ve never claimed that I do.”
“How did I never realize you were this unreasonable?”
“I try to talk to you properly, but it’s not like you ever really listen.”
Inside the room, the two of them traded words back and forth, faster and faster, their voices growing louder and louder. The chairman’s office was upstairs; people coming and going downstairs could only hear that there was an argument above, though not clearly what it was about. Uneasy and curious, they couldn’t help looking up.
“Get out—!”
Those four words were heard distinctly by everyone.
A moment later, the office door upstairs was flung open. Meng Tingjing, dressed in a white long gown embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns, strode out. Turning back, he shouted, “Think it through properly yourself!”
The chairman and deputy-chairman were at loggerheads; downstairs, the clearly divided factions glared angrily at one another.
Meng Tingjing hurried down to the first floor and strode out. Someone stepped forward. “Boss Meng—”
Meng Tingjing waved a hand brusquely, his face dark, clearly unwilling to deal with anyone.
“Why was the argument so fierce?”
“Wasn’t it over the arm factory? Boss Meng forced his way in—how could Chairman Song not be angry?”
“What do you mean ‘forced his way in’? That’s Boss Meng’s ability.”
“If you’ve got the ability, then set one up yourself. What kind of behavior is it to shamelessly squeeze your way in?”
The two groups downstairs began arguing as well, the quarrel growing increasingly heated, with signs that it might turn physical. The clamor was so loud that even Song Yuzhang inside the office was annoyed. He stepped out, about to stop it, when another shout rang out from below.
“What are you all shouting about—!”
Meng Tingjing had returned. He was holding a box under his arm, his expression gloomy as he swept his gaze over the crowd. “If you’ve got business, get to it. If not, disperse. This is the Chamber of Commerce, not a vegetable market!”
After scolding everyone, Meng Tingjing strode back upstairs. Seeing him come up, Song Yuzhang turned and went back into the office.
“What are you back for now?” Song Yuzhang said coldly, his back to him. “Since the joint operation of the arm factory is the decision from above, then let’s do it that way.”
“You’re such a busy man—you say things and then don’t take them to heart. The necklace and earrings are finished. Come take a look.”
Song Yuzhang turned around. Meng Tingjing had already opened the box. Inside, diamonds glittered dazzlingly—far from ordinary pieces. There were two pairs of earrings and two necklaces, exquisitely elegant in design.
“I forgot,” Song Yuzhang suddenly recalled. “That day, Bonian fell ill. I panicked and forgot everything.”
“I know you forgot,” Meng Tingjing said. “You’re not going to blame me for not reminding you again, are you?”
Song Yuzhang shot him a look. “You could remind me? You were busy socializing with people in the South City—how were you supposed to remind me?”
Meng Tingjing’s expression tightened slightly. “I’m not going to argue with you about this anymore. The top sets the example, the bottom follows—look at what a mess things have become.”
Song Yuzhang drew a quiet breath. “I don’t want to argue with you either. The diamonds are nice, but I don’t need you to do me favors. I’ll go buy them myself later.”
Meng Tingjing closed the box, his expression neutral, a hint of something unusual flickering in his eyes. “That jade—was it good?”
“Since you ask,” Song Yuzhang said, “I don’t have any special interest in these things. Don’t give me gifts like that again.”
“……”
Meng Tingjing closed the box again, restraining himself. “Then what do you like?”
Song Yuzhang half-leaned against the desk, took out a cigarette, and lit it with a sharp strike. He took a drag and said, “I like it when you don’t meddle in my affairs.”
“How have I meddled?” Meng Tingjing said. “By ‘don’t meddle,’ do you mean being like strangers—no contact, no concern? I can’t do that!”
Song Yuzhang exhaled a plume of smoke and said flatly, “I really should’ve drowned you last night.”
Meng Tingjing’s expression didn’t change. “It’s not too late to regret it. Tonight we can make an appointment to go swimming together.”
Song Yuzhang held back and held back, but finally couldn’t anymore. “Get out, get out, get out.” With a cigarette clenched between his lips, he shoved Meng Tingjing toward the door. Backing away, Meng Tingjing said, “This is the third floor. If you push me down and I end up injured—missing an arm or breaking a leg—don’t blame me for really extorting you.”
Song Yuzhang pushed him out the door. “You’re tough. I won’t worry about that.”
The door slammed shut with a bang. Leaning against it, Song Yuzhang blew out a mouthful of smoke and shook his head with a touch of helplessness.
Inside the Chamber of Commerce, people were coming and going. Someone carried a shoulder pole of vegetables into the kitchen. The cook glanced at them and said, “These vegetables don’t look very fresh today.”
“They were picked fresh today—how could they not be fresh? If they don’t look good, then just pay a bit less.”
Hearing this, the cook came over and rummaged through them casually. “They really aren’t fresh. Knock ten dollars off!”
“Fine, fine—whatever you say.”
The cook paid the money and pocketed a little extra, then said contentedly, “Carry them to the back courtyard.”
A tall man wearing a melon-shaped cap nodded, hunching his back as he carried the load of vegetables into the rear courtyard. The two baskets bent the carrying pole across his shoulders, and with a gentle sway, they were set down on the ground.
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